The day began as usual- Charlotte was already out of bed and doing her chores, she works so hard the poor thing. I ate breakfast with my father who was too bitter from his overdrinking the night before to even carry on a pleasant conversation. After morning began to draw on I took my morning walk rather reluctantly, making sure to stay near the house and not going too far into the woods. My French lesson came and went, my piano lesson did the same, but then, as I was walking to my weekly embroidering lesson I saw Charlotte dusting off inside of the dining room and I took my chance.
"Good morning!" I called out to her, cheerfully.
She looked at me and smiled as she realised who it was, even though no one else in the house would bother to greet her I knew it always took her a while to recognise me when she was so deep into her work. "Oh, good morning, miss Elliot."
"So, I wanted to ask you something," I began as I walked over and she looked at me, "Yes?"
"Last night--"
"Shh," Charlotte's eyes widened and she looked around. In understanding I hushed my voice and continued, "As I was saying, last night you asked if the man I had seen had been blonde."
I could see Charlotte's mood drop as she looked at her work again, "Yes, miss, I did."
"Well, I was wondering if you could tell as to why you asked me. Did you know the man?"
"Don't be silly," She laughed nervously and I knew that was I was asking was uncomfortable, but I pressed on.
"Oh, you know me, I'm always silly," I chuckled, attempting to make her more comfortable and, to my relief, she did exhale a breath of amusement.
"Lottie, you know you could tell me anything, right?" I took her hand into mine and she looked around nervously, "Don't you worry about your superiors, I am theirs."
Charlotte nodded and finally looked at me, "It's silly, Jane. There are many blonde men in the world and, even if it had been a phantom, it couldn't have been who I think it was."
"Do you wish me to confirm it for you?" I asked, thinking at the time only of comforting my friend.
"Oh no, you can never go to that graveyard again. At least not unaccompanied," Charlotte said in slight shock and I rolled my eyes,
"These rules of etiquette mean nothing to me as of present, I only wish to help ease your mind."
"That's not what I mean," She sighed and I knew that my limited intelligence had let my down again, like many other times before, "I mean that you shouldn't be alone, you could get hurt."
"But don't spirit's only frighten? I've heard that they can not touch the living, and as you can see by my complexion and breath that I am much alive as of present," I joked and Charlotte was amused, "I shall see what I can remember of his attire and person next--"
But she cut me off, "No, Jane. You're not going back there."
"Excuse me, but who is the superior here?" I scoffed and her expression turned sour,
"You're the one that always says that we are equal so do not talk of superiority to me. As your equal I'm asking this of you- Do not go back to the graveyard. Will you promise me that?"
"I can not promise something. I might be obliged to break it..."
Charlotte let my hands go and frowned, "I only wish to protect you... I can assure you that I'm quite content and do not need any confirmation. My mind is quite at ease," She tried to give a reassuring smile but I took a step back,
"You're doing a great job, Lottie," I complimented her work before I began walking away. Half in hope that she would forgive me for bothering her and bringing her distress and half in truth, her work is always very good.
I now sit taking tea, since my father is out hunting I am alone, and I have made up my mind- I shall go to the graveyard. I made no promise but I pray that my dear Lottie shall forgive me since this shall be done to ease her mind. In truth, there is a dark and curious part of me that wishes to be frightened and see the phantom once more. The deed shall be done later tonight, perhaps even past midnight, and therefore I shall have nothing else to say in this diary entry.
So wish me luck, dear diary, I may not even make it out of this alive. Yet, for some odd reason, I am all right with that.
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Diary of Jane Elliot
RomanceJane Elliot was the young daughter of a wealthy gentleman in Victorian era England. In 1851 she began to write a secret diary. A diary that has survived to this very day. She was married to a man she did not love, she got sent to an asylum, fe...
