Page 42 of Zenith
It was just after midday when the car turned up the long driveway toward the manor. The last time I was here, the grounds were covered in a fine layer of snow, but now they shone with shades of brilliant green, the garden beds were bursting with row upon row of lavender, and blue sky stretched above. The memories it brought back of my childhood were sharp, and I could almost believe I was coming home in a way, no matter how I’d been treated.
The driver set me down at the entrance where he remained with instructions to wait for my return, and the maid greeted me at the front door. She recognized me from the year before and escorted me inside to the sitting room where I found Georgiana.
My cousin was just as I remembered—her golden hair shone, her clothing was impeccable, and her skin as silky as cream, but when she turned, I could see how tired she’d become. Her eyes bore a sadness that spoke to me clearer than she possibly understood. It was a feeling I’d endured for many years and was as familiar to me as the sight of her features.
“Jane?” Georgiana rose from the couch, a startled look upon her face. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to have not called first,” I replied. “But I have something urgent I wish to discuss with you.”
“Urgent?” she parroted, her cheeks flushing pink. “With me?”
Standing before her, I took her hands in mine, ignoring the fact she was looking at me, but her gaze did not meet my own. I was quite certain she was hiding something. Her friendship with Blanche, her disappointment in me, her sadness…it could be any of those things. I mustn’t jump to any conclusions and say my piece.
“I have wronged you,” I said. “I wished to keep you free from the burden of my troubles, and in doing so, I harmed you instead. All you wanted was to be my sister and forget the past we shared. I am truly sorry, Georgiana.” She looked startled as she sat on the couch, and I perched beside her, taking her hand in mine. “I must ask… Did you tell Blanche Ingram of my inheritance? No one else knew…”
“I told her. You are right,” she replied haughtily, snatching her hand away. “I overheard Mr. Farnham and Mr. Briggs discussing you months ago. I waited for you to confide in me, but you did not. I didn’t hear from you at all!” She wiped away a tear and turned her face from mine.
“Georgiana,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry to have not told you, but my life was in complete chaos. I did not know how to deal with it. I told no one at all.”
“Not even your Edward Rochester?” she asked, scowling quite furiously. “No, you never told me about him, either!”
I bowed my head, cursing my closed nature. Emerging from behind my walls was the hardest thing I’d had to do, but then there was the act of trusting someone who had slighted me in the past. Forgiveness was truly the most difficult thing a human being could part with next to love.
“It’s not my wish to regale you with excuses,” I said. “I could spend all day justifying my actions, but it doesn’t mean anything. Our past is a troubled one, cousin, I’m sure you would agree. I find it hard to trust anyone at all, and that is my failing. I’m sorry to not have given you a chance to prove our past is exactly where it should remain. In the past. When I left Thornfield, I should have come to you.”
“Yes, you should have! I would have protected you, Jane.”
“I see that now, and I am truly sorry.”
She sniffed, her features tight with the effort she was using to contain her tears. Had I truly broken her heart so? Oh, how the human spirit was so easily cracked even when one was attempting to save it from complete destruction. Life was so fragile that sometimes, it was a burden too heavy to bear, but bear it we must.
“Georgiana, I worry for you,” I continued. “I saw the photograph of you and Blanche in the society pages today, and it caused a burst of fear so strong I could hardly contain it. You must see her for who she really is. She is using you for her own ends, to spy and manipulate others. Surely, you must see how one-sided your relationship is. I cannot allow her to hurt you so.”
Georgiana looked aghast. “You wish me to cease all communication with my only friend? For that is what she is, you know. I have no one here my own age. I am cut off from the world, and my entire family is dead! My own cousin, who I’d hoped would be my sister, wanted nothing to do with me! I have no one!”
“I am here!” I pleaded. “I wish to know you, Georgiana. You are the last of my family, and I am the last of yours. We must know one another!”
“How can I trust you?”
“Georgiana, you must,” I replied. “Spreading information to Blanche is not the way to win affection.”
“I suppose you want me to spy on her, too!”
“She is not to be trusted. Once you have become of no use to her, she will turn on you the same as all the rest. I’ve seen it happen with my very own eyes! She is not offering friendship, for true friendship is not as toxic as this.”
She pouted, showing she was just as stubborn as her mother had been.
“Georgiana, you must listen! She manipulated the artist friend I was staying with, John Rivers. She told him half-truths and lies to turned him against me. He almost strangled me to death because of it!”
“Lies…” she said, shaking her head, refusing to believe.
“Then allow me to tell you all of it. From beginning to end. Once you hear it, then you can decide if you still want to throw your lot in with Blanche.”
I told her everything, then. From my first meeting with Edward, the events of last summer, and my time in London. Her skin began to pale as I confided the moment Blanche attacked me at Thornfield, and when I exposed the scars on my chest and told her the sad story of insane Bertha Mason, she burst into tears, sobbing quite uncontrollably.
“Jane!” she cried. “Is it really true?”
“I would dearly like to say it is all a wonderful story from a novel, but yes. All of it is true.”
