Mr. Rochester

She shook her head slowly.

“You know it will,” I said. “How did you find that life, eh? How does any woman find that life? Because it is all she has, is that not the truth? And is that what will become of Adèle?” I had no interest in adding to my responsibilities. But how could I leave Adèle to the fate I could foresee? “Is this what you have been waiting for?” I continued. “For me—or anyone else—to come and claim her? Or is it”—the thought was still dawning as I spoke—“just that you have not yet found a man who will pay your price?”

“You threaten me?” she asked, defiant.

“How much?”

She smiled cautiously. “You will take her?”

“How much?”

She named a figure. It was far too much, but I was in no mood to bargain over the life of a child I did not even want. “I will return in three hours. Be ready to bring her to a solicitor’s and we will make it legal.”

“She is to be your child?”

“She is to be my ward. I will house her and feed and clothe her and make sure she is educated to be a proper kind of young lady.” And that would be all.

*



By the end of the day, Adèle was mine, though I had no idea what to do with her, or even how to speak to her. As unused to children as I was, I did, thank God, have the wisdom not to immediately disrupt Adèle’s life any more than it had been already, and so I determined we should stay on in Paris for some time. I found an apartment with two bedrooms and moved her there. The very first thing I did was go to a convent school and make arrangements for a nurse for Adèle, as it was clear that I could not bring up a child on my own. And the second thing was to inform her, as gently as possible, that I was not her papa, which would have been a great trauma for her if it hadn’t been for the presence of Pilot, whom she petted and fondled as if he himself had been her parent. That great beast had grown to a massive adulthood with a patience with Adèle that outlasted any human’s. Even so, and despite the nurse’s capable, loving presence, Adèle so desperately clung to me if I tried to leave the hotel without her that I made sure to bring new clothes and toys and books when I returned. It was the only way I could think of to get her to allow me to leave.

Finally, after a few weeks, when I felt Adèle and the nurse and I were more comfortable with one another, I arranged for our departure to England.





Chapter 8



We stopped for a few days in London, where I thought Adèle would feel at home, having lived in a city all her life, but she found it disagreeable—filthy and common—and she was not afraid to say so. Having just come from Paris, I had to admit I felt the same, and therefore as soon as I had completed my business, I hurried her on to Thornfield, accompanied by Sophie, the nurse. I had high hopes that Adèle would find the Hall as warm and inviting as I had as a child, and indeed she did. She ran from room to room when we first arrived, enthralled and impressed by the size of the place and by its furnishings. Adèle was, in so many ways, her mother’s daughter.

As soon as we arrived in England I tried teaching Adèle rudimentary English, for this was to be her language, but she said she found it “difficile et détonné,” and she refused even to try. Nevertheless, I went on speaking to her in English, which she sometimes pretended not to hear or understand, and she carried on her conversations almost totally with Sophie. I felt sorry for the child but also on occasion found her as aggravatingly silly as her mother had sometimes been. The sooner she made the best of her new situation, the better, and I tried to impress this on her as firmly as I could. It is possible that, on occasion, I was too gruff—as yet I had so little experience with children. Fortunately, once Adèle was at Thornfield, Mrs. Fairfax’s unassuming gentleness won first Sophie and then Adèle herself. And it did not hurt that Pilot was always ready for a retrieving game or a belly rub.

Mrs. Fairfax had the good sense to say nothing until we were alone, when she asked after Adèle’s provenance. “She is the daughter of a friend of mine, now recently deceased,” I responded. I reassured the widow that I expected to put Adèle into a school as soon as I found one suitable.

Mrs. Fairfax raised her eyebrows. “Is it indeed wise to send her off to school when she is so recently removed from all she knew, and where she does not even speak the language?”

I was not used to being questioned, and I am afraid I was rather harsh with my response. “It will be good for her, and God knows I cannot imagine having her here all the time.”

“If you will pardon my saying so—”

“I will not, as a matter of fact,” I snapped, and turned on my heel. I had thought, when I took Adèle on as my ward, that it would be merely a legality, a charitable act to keep her out of the clutches of anyone who would make her into a miniature strumpet. Why should she not be sent off to school? That was what my father had done with me, when I was not much older than Adèle was now, and that experience had turned out well enough.

The very next day, I paid a call on Everson for recommendations of a suitable school for Adèle, but he frowned when he heard that she spoke only French, and when I explained that she had been brought up in Paris and had some distinctly Parisian ways, he frowned further and suggested a governess instead.

A governess! What a terrible idea, I thought. Adèle at Thornfield, and Bertha upstairs? I remembered Tiso’s escaping Bertha’s chamber, exploring the attic storerooms—I remembered myself doing the same. Bertha’s chamber only yards away from where Adèle might innocently wander. Absolutely not! But when I visited several schools for young girls in the county, at each one I saw prim and neatly uniformed children, two to a desk, heads bent over their lessons. Much as I wished to see Adèle ensconced in such an ambience, it was plainly impossible to drop her into such a place now. I returned to Thornfield disappointed, and I called Mrs. Fairfax into my library that evening and allowed that it would indeed seem best for her to find a governess as soon as possible.

“I, sir?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, “who else is there?”

“Is that not your responsibility, as her guardian?” she responded.

“You are twice the guardian that I am,” I said, and I walked off. It was true; she had a way with Adèle that I could not fathom. Though Adèle spoke little English still, she chattered incessantly in French to Mrs. Fairfax, who would smile and nod and go about her business.

A week or two later Mrs. Fairfax came to me with a notice from the Herald—a young lady, an experienced teacher, it seemed, looking for a position with a family. Mrs. Fairfax appeared content with the applicant’s qualifications, and thus I considered the matter closed. I would be coming and going and have little contact with any of the women now suddenly filling my Hall.

*

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