Page 75 of John Eyre

“Not afraid, no. But I didn’t much look forward to Mr. Poole coming out of that inner room behind the tapestry.”

“You had no cause to worry on that score. The door was bolted.”

“And what of the man inside the room?”

“What about him?”

“Will he live here still? Or have you made other arrangements for his care?”

A pensive frown touched her lips. “You’re speaking of Mr. Poole.”

“Who else?”

Her brows knit. She bent her head, her gaze lingering on their joined hands. “Yes, he’ll remain here. But you needn’t worry about him.”

“How can I not? You must see that the man is dangerous.”

“Things aren’t always as they seem.”

“No,” he agreed. “Often they’re worse.”

She huffed a short laugh. “I thought you more optimistic.”

“I am when it’s called for, but in this case…” His thumb moved over the curve of her knuckle in an unconscious caress. “You’re not safe with him here. No one is. If he can do such a thing to Mrs. Wren—”

“Spare your sympathy. Mrs. Wren will be fine.”

“I trust she will be. But it isn’t her I’m concerned with. It’s you, and the boys. It’s all the rest of us living here at Thornfield. If, at any given instant, Mr. Poole can lose his head, surely it must be better for him to be put somewhere?”

“I have the matter under control now. No one else will be hurt. I can promise you that.”

“But you won’t dismiss him.”

“Mr. Poole is no threat to you. No more than I am.” She drew his hand onto her lap. “But enough about him. Tell me, are you still taking your tonic?”

“I am.”

“Good. Good.” A breath of relief sounded in her voice. “I know you’re wary of patent medicines, but I have faith in the mixture. Though I don’t suppose it’s helped your headaches as much as the laudanum.”

“It has, actually.”

She gave him a startled look. “Truly?”

“They come less frequently now. Some days not at all.” He smiled, a little rueful. “I daresay it’s because I’m happy here.”

A flicker of emotion passed over her face, gone before he could grasp it. “Are you happy, John? Despite all of…this?”

“I believe I am. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved with the boys. And I realize it isn’t ideal, not for a man in my position, but I must admit, I’ve come to care for them.”

“Only them?”

His heart thumped heavily. He was silent for a long a while. And then: “You know what happened in my former position.”

“Don’t say you’re comparing me to Lady Helen?”

“No. God, no. You’re not at all the same. But I am. I’m still a teacher—a subordinate, if not in spirit, then in fact. And you’re…”

“What?”