CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The Day of the Wedding
No friends of family went with Mr. Rochester and I to the church. I had not told my Reed cousins about my wedding, because I knew they would not care. However, I had written to my uncle, John Eyre, in Madeira. Mr. Rochester was in such a hurry that I had only a few minutes to put on my wedding dress!
“Jane, you look beautiful!” he said. “But you can only have ten minutes for breakfast!” We went quickly to the church, Mr. Rochester’s strong hand holding mine. His face looked worried, and firm. He did not speak. I wondered why he did not look happy.
The priest was waiting for us in the church. There was no one else there, except for two men who stood by the door. Mr. Rochester did not seem to notice them, but I did. The wedding began, and soon I heard the priest ask a common question. “is there any reason why these two people should not be married?
Suddenly, I heard a voice say clearly,
“There is a reason. These people cannot be married.”
The priest stared at the man who had spoken, and said nothing. Mr. Rochester did not turn around, but only said, “continue with the wedding.” The priest shock his head. “No, sir. I must let this man speak.” The man came forward and said, calmly and quietly,
“They cannot be married, because Edward Rochester already has a wife.”
I felt as if I had been hit. Mr. Rochester’s face was like stone.
“Who are you?” he said to the stranger. “And tell me why you think I am already married!”
“I am a lawyer, sir. I have a paper here, which says that fifteen years ago, you married Bertha Mason in the West Indies.”
“That may prove I’ve been married,” Mr. Rochester said coldly and angrily, “but it doesn’t prove that she’s still alive.”
“There is a man here who has seen her alive.” The lawyer stared at Mr. Rochester as if he hated him.
“Show him to me---or go to hell!” said Mr. Rochester.
“Mr. Mason1” called the lawyer. The second man came forward. His face was pale, but firm. Mr. Rochester shouted, “Mason!” and raised his strong arm. For a second I thought he was going to hit Mason.
“Edward, no!” shouted Mason. Mr. Rochester dropped his arm and turned away from us. “Sir,” said the priest, frowning, do not forget we are in the house of God! Now, Mr. Mason, please tell us what you know.”
“His wife is alive, and she’s living at Thornfield Hall,” said mason in a strong voice. I cried out in shock. How could this be? “I’m her brother, and I’ve seen her there!”
“She lives at Thornfield Hall?” said the priest. “I have lived here for years, and I never knew Edward Rochester had a wife.”
“I was careful to keep her a secret.” Said Mr. Rochester, frowning. Then he said,
“I must tell the truth, I suppose. There will be no wedding today. God will punish me for this. These men are telling you the truth. I am married, and my wife is alive! I was tricked into marrying her when I was young, in the West Indies. There is much madness in her family, but they did not tell me that. Now it is too late. For many years. Bertha has been more like an animal than a human being. I keep her hidden in my house, and the servant Grace Poole watches her. Come to my house to see her, and decide whether I had the right to ask this innocent young woman to marry me. Follow me!”
He held my hand tightly, without speaking, and we all left the church. At the door of Thornfield Hall, all the servants and Adele were waiting for us.
“Too late!” cried Mr. Rochester. “Your congratulations are fifteen years too late!” we went up to the top floor, and entered the room where Mason had been attacked. As I watched, Mr. Rochester opened the secret door and showed us a little room inside. Grace Poole was making soup over a fire, and behind her a woman crawled on the floor. She growled like a wild animal, but wore clothes, and had long, thick, dark hair! This was the woman I had seen! Mr. Rochester’s wife!
“How are you, Mrs. Poole?” said Mr. Rochester. “And how is your patient today?”
“Not bad, sir,” said Grace, “but be careful. She is upset, so don’t let her see you!” suddenly, the woman turned and attacked Mr. Rochester! I recognized her face. It was pale, and I thought that once, long ago, it might have been pretty. With Grace Poole’s help, Mr. Rochester was able to tie the woman to a chair. Then he turned to us, with a bitter smile. “You see, gentlemen, this is my wife. This is the partner I must live with forever. And instead, I wanted to have Jane Eyre, this young girl. Can you honestly blame me? Compare the two, and then tell me you think I am wrong!”
We all left the room silently. As we went downstairs the lawyer said to quietly, “Miss Eyre, I know you did not know about Bertha Mason. None of this is your fault; it is Edward Rochester’s terrible mistake. Mr. Mason will tell your uncle what happened when he returns to Madeira.”
“Do you know my uncle?” I asked, surprised.
“I am John Eyre’s lawyer, also. Your uncle and Mr. Mason know each other. On his way back to the West Indies, Mr. Mason stopped in Madeira and stayed with Mr. Eyre. He told Mason that you were going to marry a Mr. Rochester in England.”
“Yes, I wrote to tell I was getting married,: I said.
“Well, when Mr. Mason told him that Mr. Rochester was already married, your uncle told him to return here immediately, to stop you from marring Rochester. I’m afraid your uncle is ill, and he may die soon. I think you should stay in England, until he or I write you a letter.”
After the men had left, I went to my room and locked the door. Slowly I took off my wedding dress and veil. I was tired, and my head hurt as I began to think about what had happened. Could I ever trust Mr. Rochester again? Had he ever really loved me? My hopes were all dead, and my future was empty. I lay on my bed, and wanted to die. |