Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy Read Free

revealing uneven grey teeth. “She won’t bother us.”
    In spite of the blazing flames and
well-furnished room, I thought of hairy spiders crawling up my sleeves. I shivered
and rubbed my arms.
    “You’re cold. Don’t stand in the doorway,
Jane. Come inside. This will be your room from now on. I want you to write a
list of the food you like to eat, and the clothes and other personal items you’d
like to have.”
    “Why?” I whispered.
    “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll look after you
while you’re here and, in compensation, you’ll be my mistress.”
    I held my breath. “Why?” I repeated,
trying to make sense of this bizarre situation.
    “Because I want you, and I am in a
position to have you.”
    “I’d like to return to my room, please.”
I tried to sound assertive, but my voice was unsteady.
    “There is no going back, I’m afraid. You
will stay here and oblige me. You’ll find I’m easy to please.” He took my limp
hand and pressed it to his mouth. The room swirled like a tornado, sucking me
into its twisting eye.
    When I woke up I was in my new bed and the
doctor was taking my pulse. “You must eat, Mrs. Mason, or you will make
yourself ill. Do you want to be force fed?”
    He showed me a long tube and motioned it
towards my mouth. I shook my head energetically.
    “Then you must eat everything on the
tray before Mr. Poole returns. There is nothing else physically wrong with
you.”
    The food on the tray, cheese, cold meat,
and fruit, would have looked appealing in any other place, but my lips felt as
if they were glued together. I managed to pull them apart to speak to the
doctor.
    “Could I see my son, or Archbishop
Templar, please?”
    “No visitors are allowed for the
moment.”
    “When can I have visitors?”
    “Perhaps in the spring, when you’re
feeling better.”
    I asked for a Bible and read the Gospel
according to St. Mathew, which I had read so often with Helen, in the hope that
it would give me the strength to endure Poole’s designs on me as our Lord had suffered
on the cross. Why had I been forsaken?    
    The Bible gave me little comfort. I
cried for the injustice in my life and wished for a quick death, instead of the
slow poisoning awaiting me. I remembered Michael’s words. “No one will keep us
apart,” he had promised. I closed my eyes and recalled the joyful moments we had
experienced a few months earlier.
    ****

Chapter II - The Best of Times
    Michael had almost recovered from the wounds
inflicted during his kidnapping, when we arrived back at Eyre Hall after our
voyage from Jamaica in June, and he soon grew even stronger than he had been
before. He ate voraciously and spent much of the day working on the estate, which
had been much neglected during the previous months I had been away.
    We called Mr. Smythe, who had been
managing matters during my absence. Michael and Smythe got on splendidly, especially
after Smythe told him about the pirate’s visit. He said he had the greatest
admiration for a lady who was able to negotiate and threaten a pirate, and
travel to Jamaica, in order to recover her betrothed. Michael laughed and told
him that, to his knowledge, I had used a stoker to great effect with several
scoundrels.
    Smythe informed us that there was much
to be improved on the Rochester Estate after my long absence. He was too far
away in London to pay close attention to matters. John was in Boston, and in
any case, he had never taken any interest in the running of the estate. Annette
was doing an excellent job running Eyre Hall with Leah’s help, but she had no
idea how to deal with the rest of the holdings.
    Smythe informed us the rents were too
low and that the homes and farms needed repairs. He suggested we should invest
in renovating the houses on the estate and make sure the farms were well-equipped,
before increasing the rent. There were roofs to fix, fences to repair, and livestock
and tenant farmers to deal with.
    Michael and I visited all the