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leave, and we can speak when I return.”
    “Very well,” he said dryly and stormed
out of the room. I wondered just how demanding he could become if his mother
were not there to placate his impulsive character.
    I could not imagine my life without him,
but I realised my life would not be mine to govern if I gave in to his wishes.
Was I destined to remain at his beck and call for the rest of my days? Would I
remain in the shadow of his wife and family, always present, albeit relegated
to the background, like one of his paintings or hunting trophies? Would I ever
have a life of my own? A family of my own? A house of my own? A man who loved
me over everything else?
    I returned to my room to write my letter
and pack my case, trying to remember when I had ever made a decision regarding
where to go and what to do. Never, I concluded sorrowfully. I felt like a
feather flying to their whims.
    ***
     

Chapter IV – Lunch
at Thorpe House
    The journey to Thorpe Hall, the home of Admiral
and Mrs. Fitzjames, was long and bumpy. Jane had insisted on accepting her
cousin’s invitation because she did not intend to prepare any big celebrations
for Christmas this year at Eyre Hall, and she would like to make sure she saw
one of her two only living relatives, apart from her son. She had asked me to
travel with her and I had obliged, glad to be away from John and think about
his passionate yet disturbing letters. 
    “Thank you for accompanying me, Annette.
I did not care to make the journey alone. I tire easily.”
    “Jane, I still can’t believe you were so
ill and never let us know. You should have told us you were unwell last winter.
I would have stayed with you, so would Adele. I am glad you are almost
recovered.”
    “Nonsense, I was well looked after by
the young Dr. Carter, he’s an excellent doctor and a very good person; nothing
like his father, I might add. Anyway, you all had to get on with your own
lives, and I needed to be alone, for a time. You have been a wonderful
companion for me these past months, Annette. It is very generous of you to
spend time with a boring writer.”
    “Not at all, Jane. I have learned a
great deal from you. I felt lonely in Belgium, and I found French hard to
master.”
    “Now that the Christmas season is
approaching, life will be merrier for you at Eyre Hall, and although I do not
plan any big celebrations, you will no doubt be invited to many balls, and
Adele and Mr. Greenwood will be arriving soon. He would like you to meet his
son, Dante.”
    “I will be glad to make his acquaintance
and see Adele and Mr. Greenwood again, but I am not prepared for marriage,
especially to a man I do not know.”
    “There is no pressure on you, at all,
Annette. You do not have to marry, now or ever, if you do not wish, but I ask
you to be kind to young Dante Greenwood. I have heard he is a successful
painter, and an honest, intelligent young man. Give him the opportunity of
getting to know you, before you make any decisions.”
    I nodded and smiled. She did not know
that John and I were in love and conspiring to be in each other’s company as
often as possible. She had spent most of the summer in her room, writing her novel,
or reading with Nell. She seemed to have lost all interest in anything that
happened around her at Eyre Hall.
    It had been easy for John and me to
spend days on our own, getting to know each other, and falling in love. I was
more convinced now than ever that I could not marry John, so I would undoubtedly
remain single. Although Jane was becoming fond of me, her plans for John and me
did not include a marriage, and of course, there was the charade of our
supposed sibling relationship, which I had begun to seriously doubt. In any
case, she was determined to see John married to Phoebe, and she would almost
certainly get her own way. John would never reject any of his mother’s
requests.
    She had asked me to call her Jane, just
a few weeks ago. She was changed. Much calmer, perhaps less