March came and brought spring with it.

All at once, Thornfield was green again, the flowerbeds rising up and beginning to bloom after their long slumber through winter. The roses that clung to the facade of the west wing were sprouting thousands of buds, and they too would soon shower the whole side of the building with an eruption of brilliant red.

A month had passed since Edward was called away to Paris on business, and it had been a happy time, the comings and goings of the hotel returning to normal. The storm that had followed Edward’s and my affair and the subsequent breakup and terror of Blanche Ingram had all but cleared, the dust settling.

Alice was beside herself with joy at the news of Edward’s and my tentative reconciliation, and the whole household celebrated. We’d finally come to our senses, or so she put it.

During this time, I received word from Mr. Briggs that my uncle’s finances and holdings had been transferred into my name, and I was now a millionaire. I was bursting to tell someone, but I kept the news close, hoping I could tell Edward soon after his arrival. It was a long four weeks to pass within the sleepy walls of such a mystery-filled house, and when the master finally returned, I was in the garden whiling away a hazy afternoon.

At the bottom of the garden was the sunken bluestone fence that led to the moor beyond, the same fence I’d climbed the day I ran from Thornfield and Edward’s secrets. Behind me was a grand chestnut tree, its leaves fresh and green upon its boughs, a wooden seat circling its trunk. Here, one could wander unseen, and it had become one of my favorite places to come and think in the last weeks.

I felt as if I could let my spirit roam free forever in this wild hidden spot, but as I stood by the crumbling fence, I stilled, the solitary comfort of my refuge shattering. I could feel eyes upon me, watching me from the yonder path. Turning, I found Edward there, tall and stark in his navy suit and tie.

For a long moment, we stared at one another, the moment bursting full of romance at lovers reunited, but neither one of us moved to embrace the other. My eye studied his refined features, took in his dark brow, his stubble-coated jaw, and his hard lips, and I knew I’d made the right decision to hold him apart from me the last time I’d been with him. If I allowed him, he would pull me under, and I would be lost in a sea of primal lust. It would be delightful to partake in his naked body, but it was not love. It was only a small amount of the whole.

Finally, after he’d spent a long minute raking his gaze over me as I had just done him, his mouth curved into a smile. Once, it had been so uncharacteristic of him to be anything but sour and brooding, but life had returned to Edward Rochester, and his eyes sparkled. I didn’t dare believe it was my doing lest it unraveled the spell.

“Jane,” he said, his voice carrying across the garden.

We met in the middle of the lawn, our shadows mingling as we came together.

“The sun does you well,” he remarked, the smile never leaving his lips.

“Shut up and kiss me, Edward Rochester,” I declared.

He laughed, pulling me roughly against his chest, and his mouth met mine with blistering passion. As his tongue forced its way into my mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers stroking the hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. I tilted my head to the side, and our embrace deepened further still, his touch firming against my back.

Finally, we managed to part.

“It’s never a small taste with you, is it?” I asked, resting my forehead against his cheek.

“Never,” was his reply.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just now. Alice said you were in the garden, so I came to find you at once.”

“You must be tired.” His words pleased me, but he’d traveled all the way from Paris.

“It is of little consequence when you are so near,” he whispered. “It has been a long time since I have seen your face, sweet Jane. Knowing you are mine to touch once more, it has been torture.”

Not waiting for my reply, he leaned down, caught my lips with his, and kissed me once more, this time, more feverish. My passion rose, my veins hot with my desire for him, and I responded with just as much fervor as he.

He undid the button on my jeans and lowered the zipper, his lips barely leaving mine. When I was bare, he lowered his trousers and sat on the bench surrounding the chestnut tree, pulling me astride his lap. I felt his firmness against me, but before I could gather my conviction, he entered my body with a moan so full of longing it stirred me to life.

“Jane…” he muttered, his hands grasping my hips and guiding me over his manhood.

Fisting my hands through his hair, I moved with him, panting and trembling as pleasure began to rise. His invasion was sudden and overwhelming, my body melding around his as if it had been waiting for this moment.

We writhed together, the world falling away until only our pleasure remained. Edward placed his fingers between us and pinched, sending a spark through my body so euphoric I came then and there. I tightened, and passion overwhelmed us both as he spilled hot and hard inside me.

I slumped against his chest, his lips against my neck, and breathed hard, catching my breath. He flexed inside me, his hands rubbing my back as I trembled. Finally, he lifted me off him and assisted with righting my clothing before attending to his. I sat on the bench and watched, all of my nerve endings glowing brightly.

“I have a strange feeling sometimes in regards to you,” he said as he fixed his trousers into place.

I studied him carefully, my body still buzzing with pleasure. “How so?”

He sat beside me. “I feel as if a string connects us, and when we are near, it pulls taught, leading me to you. A connection that has no explanation.” I smiled as he confided the exact sensation I’d felt on many occasions. “I feared distance would cause it to snap, and that when I returned, you would have departed Thornfield and left me. There was no string left to bind us.”

I leaned against him, my cheek pressing against his shoulder. “I am still here, Edward. I promised.”

“I know,” he replied with amusement. “I hope it was you and not your spirit I have just made love to in the garden.”

“Will you ever discard your sphinx mask?” I inquired.

“Of course. Allow me to speak plainly to you,” he said, his voice becoming serious.

I nodded, uncertainty beginning to settle in my veins.

“I owe you an explanation in regards to my broken engagement to Blanche, and you may anger in knowing it, but I made a promise to you. I intend to keep it fully.”

“I don’t need to hear it, Edward. You intended to marry for convenience as you did before you met me. I understand.”

“No, Jane. You do not.”

“Then what could it be?” I stilled, glancing at him. “If this is not the reason, then what is your explanation?”

“I never intended to marry Blanche, nor did I intend for her to come back to Thornfield at all.”

My stomach rolled, and I shook my head in confusion. “What?”

“I would never have let the wedding go ahead,” he said. “Before or after.”

“Why?”

“Because her family sought to ruin mine, and when it was no longer convenient, they attempted to mend it with a broken marriage. When I met you, my plans changed, though I continued the ruse.”

I was struck incomprehensible. “You were plotting revenge against the Ingram family?”

“Yes.”

“You were using Blanche for your own ends?”

“Yes,” he confirmed again.

“Then you are cruel,” I shot back at him.

“Are you worried about the feelings of a woman who harmed you so, Jane? Why should you care for Blanche?”

“I do not care for her. I care about your actions!”

“I am a lovesick fool,” he all but bellowed. “I wished to render you as madly in love with me as I was with you. I hoped jealousy would bring you back to me.”

“And there it is,” I whispered, hardly believing the things he was saying to me in such reverence. He loved me, and he was finally able to feel something other than gloom, but how he showed that love! It was incredulous.

“There, indeed!”

“I loved you from the first, Edward Rochester,” I declared.

“Even as you stared me in the face that day on the moor and told me you would have loved me?” he asked. “Did you lie, Jane?”

I shook my head. “I’d never been in love or had been loved until you devoured me, so how was I to understand? I don’t think you even know the weight your words have had on me.”

“I felt it as we came together, Jane. I felt it as I thrust into your body, the most intimate thing two lovers can share. We belong together, and I had to make you see it. I will have you as you wish to have me, no matter the cost.”

I stared at him, unable to form any coherent thought.

“Do you think I can stay here knowing the cruelty you have laid upon others?” I asked. “Do you think I am impervious to your heartless dealings? I did not ask you to cause pain on my behalf, nor would I ever ask it of you! Do you think me an emotionless machine?” He stepped toward me, but I shoved him back with the flats of my palms. “Do you think because I am nothing and nobody, I have no heart or soul? You would be wrong! I have as much heart as you do and as much soul! Despite all we have been through, your respect for my wishes is still meager, and the games continue. Stay this madness! Be calm and still, and pay the world no mind! You wish me to stay and love you, but you are making it extremely hard not to turn and run.”

Edward grasped my arm. “We are equals, Jane.”

“Are we?”

“I want to give you the entire world,” he said, loosening his fingers. “Everything I have, without a second thought, will be yours. I have thought long and hard these past weeks as to how I can show you, Jane, and how I can redeem myself in your eyes, the most judgmental of all.”

“I am not—”

“You are, you know, but I do not hold it against you. The world has shaped you that way through its cruelty. You cannot help who you are just as I cannot help who I am. We are already made, our cores solid. What I seek to change is to allow you to see into the most secret places inside me, Jane. To see the entire truth and hope you still love me. I would do that and more to secure your love for me…and my love for you. For I do, you know. Love you.”

I stared at him, my heart beating against my chest like a thousand drums. “You love me?”

He nodded. “I thought it was clear. All this time, it has been so, but as you said only a minute past, I have not felt it before, so I didn’t understand…but I see clearly now, Jane.”

He let me go and reached into his jacket pocket, and when he turned out his palm, the world seemed to cease all motion.

Against his skin sat a white-gold ring with a sparkling diamond. I could formulate no words or thoughts as my resolve and anger entirely crumbled at the sight of such a delicate little object.

“No one shall decide your destiny but you, Jane,” he whispered. “I offer you everything I am. If you take it, my heart is yours forever. If you decline, then I…” He blinked furiously, his eyes beginning to tear. “Jane, will you pass through life at my side as my better? Will you marry me?”

A breeze began to blow, ruffling my untamed hair and a strand settled across my face, catching on my lips. I trembled even though the branches of the chestnut tree sheltered us from the changing weather. A storm was coming. The sun had dampened, the air had cooled, and I could feel moisture building above us.

Edward stood, his palm still outstretched, offering me the ring. He was quiet, his expression hopeful in his strength and certainty.

“You strange and unearthly thing,” I whispered, a tear escaping from my eye.

“You have no faith in me?” he asked, never moving an inch.

“Not a whit.”

“I have done you wrong, played with your affections, but I made my intentions clear before I left for Paris. I care not for your past, lack of a name, or scant fortune. It is my soul that speaks to yours. It is my very being that calls to you. Everything else is of no consequence. I lay myself before you as your slave. Marry me, Jane.”

I knew if I turned from him now, I would regret it the rest of my life. He was offering me everything I’d ever desired, and I would be a fool to deny him.

“Yes,” I said. “I will marry you.”

He drew in a sharp breath and grasped my hand, sliding the ring onto my finger. Then he kissed me again and again, muttering, “I will atone. You will be mine. I will make you happy. I shall be happy.”

“We will be happy, Edward,” I said as he held me close, trembling.

To see a man quiver as he did just now, a man usually so composed in his strength, was unnerving and relieving all at the same time.

He was mine, reader. Not completely—that would come in time—but he was going be mine in the eyes of the world, and I was going to be his. We were going to marry, and it was a wonderful thing.

Lightning lit up the sky, and we turned our faces upward to behold it as rain began to fall. A crash and a bang boomed in the sky, a peal of thunder signaling the storm had arrived, and I clung to Edward’s jacket.

“Come,” he said. “We must turn in.”

Grasping my hand, we ran as rain beat down in heavy sheets, drenching us to the bone. Our clothes clung to our skin, and my hair streamed with water as we climbed the same stairs I’d been cast down by Blanche, now hand in hand with my husband-to-be.

Finally, we rounded the house and stumbled into the main gallery in a heap, leaving puddles in our wake on the polished floorboards. Edward caught my hand before I could slip and pulled me about, holding me in a tight embrace. Laughter was upon his lips, and it was infectious, my smile matching his.

“I shall make you the happiest wife there has ever been,” he said, then kissed me right there in the entrance to Thornfield for all to see.

I had never been happier than I was at that moment. Thornfield had ended me all those months ago on the moor, but now new life had been bequeathed upon my soul, and I saw her with fresh eyes.

Home was not a place. It was not Thornfield. No, home was wherever Edward Rochester was present.