Page 53 of Zenith
“Why is that?”
“Why? She’s a wild thing, Miss.” She waved her hand at my chest. “You’ve seen it.”
I narrowed my eyes, reluctant to voice my misgivings, but I had to in order to discern Grace’s motives and if we were to continue placing our trust in her abilities.
“Are you happy here, Grace?”
“Happy?” Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t call it happiness, but Mr. Rochester pays me well, and I know the lady’s tells. I do well enough.”
I considered her words with an air of skepticism and found her tone to be unfulfilled. Grace Poole was unhappy and had become disillusioned. Considering the place I now found myself in, it was wholly expected. It took a person of great conviction to be able to care for a violent madwoman, I saw it now.
I was also shocked at what I found here, knowing the hotel had been in operation the whole time. Despite Edward’s assurances the guests had been completely safe, I knew for a fact Bertha had escaped on many occasions. Where had Grace been then?
“Tell me, Grace,” I began. “Where were you those times Bertha found herself wandering the halls and scratching at my door? Where were you when she set Edward’s bed alight?”
“It’s not an easy task, Miss,” she said, her gaze falling to the floor. “She is cunning.”
“It seems simple to me,” I declared, reaching behind her and plucking the bottle of scotch from the shelf.
“No!” she cried. “It’s not like that!”
“You’re not happy at all, are you? I wouldn’t blame you if you said you hated this foul place. Not at all. But to drink at your post? That is inexcusable considering the person you are meant to care for.” Grace began to look panicked, her gaze darting between me and the scotch. “You told Blanche Ingram.” It was not a question or a statement. It was a direct threat, and from the look of pure fear that passed across her face, Grace knew it too.
“I’m sorry, Miss!” she exclaimed, almost falling to her knees before me. “She promised—”
“Her promises are worthless,” I interrupted. “Do you not see the damage she has wrought because of your slip of the tongue? If you were unhappy, you could have addressed it to Edward. Instead, you gave Blanche all the ammunition she needed to destroy his entire life. None of us are safe from the fallout, Grace. Not you, not me, and not Bertha.”
“Not Bertha!Not Bertha!” screeched the madwoman through her door.
We both glanced up at the sound, and a chill raced down my spine. What an impossible scenario.
“Please, don’t tell Mr. Rochester,” Grace pleaded.
I shook my head as I backed out of the room. “I’m not sure I can let it go.”
Leaving Grace behind, I ventured back down into the house, my mind more chaotic than ever before. I was want to overthink everything, considering all angles so thoroughly my intent often became muddled. It was safe to say, I now saw things more clearly than ever before. After all the insanity Thornfield had thrust upon me, I was no longer shaken by such madness.
Something had to be done about Bertha. She couldn’t continue to live like this. Surely, there was a better option for her? Someplace where she could be cared for by professionals and be treated more like a human being than a caged animal. I didn’t understand the Masons and what they could possibly do to harm her. Edward had said his father had tried to do away with her permanently… Did the Mason’s want the same thing?
I didn’t want to bother Edward with my prying, and I was sure he would be livid when he found out I’d gone to see Grace. But something had to be done. No matter what Bertha had done to harm me and others in the past, she deserved a chance as much as anyone.
Bertha must get proper care and soon.
