I was awoken some time later by a strange face.

He looked different in the daylight, but I immediately recognized Dr. Carter. The first and last time I’d seen the man was the night Mason was attacked by an unknown assailant, and the memory lit up my mind with renewed ferocity.

“Miss Doe,” he said, sitting beside me. “How are you feeling?”

I thought this a strange question as I felt extremely poorly, but I told him, explaining how I’d fallen. As he inspected my various hurts, I studied his features closely, though my head throbbed with an ache that hadn’t dulled since I’d injured it earlier.

I’d scarcely looked upon him the night I’d been roused to care for Mason. I’d been too fixated on the violence and mystery of the evening to worry about what a stranger looked like. Now that I was the patient, I was free to study him. He was an older man, perhaps in his fifties, his hair had a generous helping of gray, his skin was lined with fine wrinkles, and his eyes were kind yet stern.

“And you hit your temple?” he asked. “Nowhere else on your head?”

“I have a headache, but I don’t think so. It happened so fast I can hardly remember it all.”

“Then you must drink lots of water,” he said. “Some mild pain killers like ibuprofen will help with the aches and pains, but only take two every four hours.”

Dr. Carter took great care to explain my injuries to me, and I assumed Edward had explained it in full whereas I’d only told him the bare necessities. He looked grave as he spoke, his brow furrowed as if the goings-on within the hotel were of great concern to him. He was not alone in his thinking. I too shared the same misgivings.

He told me the knife had only scored my flesh, opening a wound but causing no lasting damage. He’d used a bonding agent—a special glue—used in surgeries to close the gash in lieu of stitches and told me it would dissolve once my body had healed itself enough. I was bruised and battered from my fall, but he could discern no broken bones, though he would convince Edward to bring me to his practice in the village for some X-rays to make sure. I also had a concussion from the blow to my head and would need watching for the next few days, but he considered me lucky.

I didn’t feel that way. There were so many things wrong with how I’d conducted myself over the last few months I scarcely knew where to begin. The blow to my temple had caused my view to shift, and things I should never have forgotten had dislodged and bobbed to the surface like rich, red apples in a bucket of water.

Mason, Grace Poole, the fire, the laughter, the secrecy, Edward’s demon, Blanche Ingram… Had I been that embroiled in my own despair at losing Edward’s love? I’d forgotten myself entirely.

It felt as if something dark and sinister conspired to thwart my attempts to leave Thornfield. My path was scrambled and confused, and every time I made a decision, another event transpired to change my mind. Whether it was the strange laughter, fire, the arrival of Blanche Ingram, my cousin Georgiana, and Aunt Sarah, or Edward himself, all of these things forced me to linger when all I wanted to do was start afresh.

Still, I could only ask the doctor about the one thing he knew of, and I wasn’t about to let this chance slip through my fingers.

“What do you know of Mason?” I asked.

“Mason?” Dr. Carter frowned, looking confused.

“The man who was attacked here a few months ago,” I explained. “What do you know of him?”

His lips thinned. “I cared for him as best I could, and he went away the following day. As far as I know, he is well, although he has a few new scars. Of more, I am uncertain.”

“Did he say anything of how he received his injuries?”

Dr. Carter shook his head and rose to his feet, collecting his bag. He looked out the window at the sky beyond for an age before he turned back to me.

“It’s curious,” he replied after a moment. “The times I’ve been called here for various things.”

I stared at him, attempting to puzzle out his words. “This hasn’t been the first or second time you’ve come to Thornfield like this?”

He opened his mouth, but whatever he wanted to say was abruptly silenced as the door opened, and Bessie came scurrying in wheeling a tray.

“Oh, hello, Dr. Carter,” she said, positioning the tray beside the bed. “I didn’t know you were still here. Shall I come back?”

He glanced at me, and then shook his head. “I’m quite finished, thank you. I must speak to Mr. Rochester before I depart. Do you know where he is?”

“I think he is in his study. If you give me a moment, I shall take you there.”

She busied herself with the tray, placing it on the bed beside me. Once she was finished, she led the doctor from the room, and that was that. It was as if I’d been the one to be dismissed, all my questions and longings not important enough to warrant simple answers. It was the story of my life.

I stared at the back of the door for a long moment, lamenting at the frustration my life had become, before turning to the tray Bessie had left. Opening the little box of ibuprofen that sat beside a plate of food, I took two of the white tablets and closed my eyes.

I was much too tired to ponder the awful day’s events further, and despite my best attempts to remain alert, I fell into a fitful sleep.

When I awoke, the tray was gone.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I saw only a few hours had passed since Dr. Carter had departed. I lay prone for a moment, my limbs protesting with every tiny movement, and when I could bear it enough, I rose to my feet.

I seemed to be wearing a different set of clothes, and I felt myself flush at the thought of being handled like a child. The jumper and long-sleeve T-shirt I’d donned that morning were gone, replaced with soft woolen fabric that pressed against my tender flesh. I didn’t recognize it, but from the feminine cut, I assumed it belonged to either Alice or Bessie. Rolling up the sleeves, I saw my skin was already dark with some impressive bruises from my tumble down the stairs.

Desperate to know what was going on, I shuffled toward the door. I didn’t like being apart, not in this, so I took it upon myself to investigate. I wouldn’t be lied to anymore.

Opening the door, I felt like an escapee from a prison, and a thrill shuddered through my body. Peering into the empty hallway beyond, I recognized the furnishings and realized I had been placed in a suite in the upper west wing of the hotel, the closest room to Edward’s in the whole of Thornfield.

So much for not being caged.

The stairs were hard work for my aching legs, so it took some time to reach the balcony above the main gallery. When I finally reached it, I found the most unexpected sight, and my mouth fell open in shock.

“You attempted grievous bodily harm against her!” Edward’s voice boomed, seeming to echo into infinity.

I lingered at the top of the stairs, unable to comprehend the scene unfolding below me.

Edward and Blanche stood in the center of the gallery, her suitcases piled around them. Alice was in the doorway of the office, and many sets of eyes were peeking through a gap in the sitting room doors, spying on the unfolding spectacle.

“But, Edward!” Blanche cried, a hair’s breadth away from stamping her foot in a tantrum.

“Do not think me a fool,” he snapped. “You think I was marrying you for love? Do you think that any of this was genuine?”

“What?” She looked genuinely shocked at his words.

“Why do the rich marry anyone,” he roared, echoing the very words he’d used in conversation with me to justify his engagement.

“Is everything a game to you Rochesters?” she cried, her shock changing to anger as she lashed out. “Screwing the staff, embezzling money at every turn, ruining lives, gambling with affection! Your brother deserved what he got, and so did Jane Doe.”

My breath caught, and I clutched the balustrade, my blood whooshing through my veins. He’d never spoken to me about his brother, and I wondered what she meant. My gaze flickered to Edward, and another rush of emotion pulsed through my body. I’d seen anger on his handsome and terrible face before, but it was nothing like the rage marring it now.

“Never forget I have the power to ruin you and your entire family.” He snarled, his tone frightening even me. “Do not think to test me.”

She stared at him, her nostrils flaring as he clicked his fingers, his gaze trapped with hers in a battle of wills. Two male housekeeping attendants appeared and began gathering up the luggage and ferrying it outside to a waiting car.

Blanche didn’t utter another complaint, seeming to have accepted Edward’s word as final. She was done, and she knew it.

Turning, her gaze found mine as if she knew I’d been standing there, witness to her downfall all along. Her blue eyes lingered, and a smile crept onto her face. It was so serene after such a public shaming that it chilled my already icy bones.

Another omen? I thought so. Somehow, I knew this wouldn’t be the last time either of us would be hearing the name Blanche Ingram.

Edward seemed to notice something was amiss and turned to follow her stare. When he saw me lingering at the top of the stairs, he strode forth. He didn’t even wait to make sure Blanche had left before he showed his interest, and it bothered me. Taking the stairs two at a time, he was before me, moving so fast I began to believe he was the spirit he so often claimed I was.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked, his voice so gentle it shocked and warmed me all at once. Such a stark contrast to his display of power downstairs.

“I am fine,” I replied, my gaze avoiding his. The front door closed, signaling Blanche had gone, but I still felt on edge.

“She won’t be coming back, Jane,” he said, frowning. “What she did was unforgivable.”

“So she admitted to it?” I focused on his dark features and wished he wouldn’t champion me so.

“Willingly, though I will never understand why you wouldn’t name her.” My hand tightened around the banister, and the motion didn’t go undetected. “Jane, you must go back to bed.”

“I’m fine,” I argued, but he wouldn’t hear it.

Winding his arm through mine, he led me back to the suite. His was touch uncharacteristically gentle, and his attention, after so much trouble and anguish, was perplexing. Had he suffered a change of heart? I’d been hoodwinked so many times I didn’t dare believe he had.

I had neither the strength nor conviction to pull away, so I allowed him to escort me back to the suite. Once inside, he lowered me gently onto the bed, grasping my limbs and arranging my body just so on the soft mattress.

“There,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Isn’t that much better?”

He lingered, sitting beside me on the bed, obviously wanting to talk more, and his hesitation only added to my worries.

“What of your aunt?” he finally asked.

“Dead,” I replied.

“That is very forthright.”

“I do not harbor any good or bad feelings toward her, so how else am I meant to say it?”

“You could be more pleasant about it,” he said. “You could have said she has passed on, but why should Jane Doe be polite when she can call a spade a spade?”

“You know how I feel about my aunt,” I said, not wanting to get into yet another argument, not when everything ached so. “And you know how I felt about Blanche. I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t want to be in this position, and I didn’t want to… You know.” I gestured to the scrape on my temple.

“Of course, you didn’t, Jane,” he declared. “Who asks to be attacked? No one.”

“Like Mason,” I challenged. “Do you remember him?” He looked aghast, and I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “From the look on your face, I’m sure you expected me to have let it go by now. Well, you almost succeeded in distracting me from all the queer happenings in this house, but I fear the blow to my head has dislodged them once more.”

He remained stoic, refusing to answer my accusation with words or emotion. He didn’t move at all.

“Your bag was packed,” he said with a frown.

“I have been attempting to leave this accursed place since last September,” I said sullenly. “After your behavior last night, I intended to leave this morning. But…”

“I see. You were just going to disappear, I suppose.” Edward’s eyes narrowed, but it was all the emotion he showed.

“You delight in my torment.”

“That is false.” He shifted on the bed, tucking his left leg under his right, and faced me fully. “If I had intended to be as spiteful a man as I once was, perhaps I would have delighted in it. You were the one to cast me away, after all. I’ve learned a great many things since I stumbled upon you, Jane. A great many…” He trailed off, not seeming to know how to articulate his thoughts.

“You frightened me, Edward. I don’t know how to take you,” I said. “You are the ultimate paradox. Danger surrounds you, yet…”

“Yet?” he prodded.

I turned away, my palm resting against my forehead.

“You must stay until you are healed,” he went on, granting me a brief reprieve from the insanity that was out relationship. “I couldn’t bear it knowing you left feeling so poorly.”

I shook my head, returning my gaze to his so he would understand I meant what I was about to say. “It is yet another excuse to force me to linger. There have been too many.”

“She attacked you, but I was the cause.”

I turned away from him, the force of his gaze too heavy to bear. “So it is your guilt which drives you to imprison me.”

“Jane.”

“Do you think because she is gone and you are now free of the burden of marriage, I will fall into your arms and plead for you to take me back? Nothing has changed, Edward. You are still as closed to me as that day on the moor, and I still want nothing less than your full and complete love!”

“I see it now,” he murmured, his gaze drinking in my features. “What could have been wrested from me with such finality. You say it so plainly, and I wonder why I could never see it so. You have used the word paradox several times now—yes, I have remembered every word from your precious lips, Jane—and I am guilty. I am tormented beyond compare.”

I was powerless under his scrutiny, and I bore it as he mused his deepest thoughts. Hardly understanding what was happening, I listened. Not just to his words, but to the meaning.

“I’ve attempted to trick you, but your mind is too sharp,” he went on. “I fancy you deserve a much better man than I, but I am unable to let you go. It is a curious thing, you know. What drives a man to want the things he does.”

“But the barrier remains,” I returned. “You are the one who has to remove it, Edward. I cannot continue on this path. It’s too much to take. The lies, the secrets, the pain…”

He lowered his gaze and wetted his lips, his shoulders tensing. Then he stood, removed my boots, and fixed the blankets around me, frowning at the darkening bruises on my exposed arms.

I hardly knew if my words had made a dent in his hard exterior, and I wanted to question him further—to talk and expose the things which kept us close yet drove us apart—but it was never meant to be. Would I ever know? It was unlikely, and I wondered if I would ever be able to escape Thornfield without some unexpected drama to ensnare me.

“Rest,” Edward said, then he left me to my solitude like the phantom he was.