My Mr. Rochester

My Mr. Rochester 1 (Jane Eyre Retold) 

Copyright 2013 L.K. Rigel
Published by Beastie Press

Cover design by eyemaidthis

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Ebooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, with the exception of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews, without written permission from the author. The unauthorized reproduction and distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

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Table of Contents
My Legacy
Madam Mope
The Red Room
Brocklehurst
Goodbye To Gateshead
Bishop’s Charity
Helen
To Hate Him More
I Scandalize Myself

News From Gateshead
Stranger On A Train

Thornfield Righteous Estate

Dusk

The Master

My Mr. Rochester
( Jane Eyre Retold )
Episode 1

l.k. rigel

« Chapter 1 »
My Legacy

Anno Domini 2081

One rainy afternoon when I was thirteen, I was summoned to the morning room to sit with Mrs. Reed and her two younger children. This was no kindness on Mrs. Reed’s part. The vicar was coming for tea. No doubt she meant to show how well she cared for me.

I am an orphan. I belong to no one. My mother died not long after I was born, and it’s said my father died of grief within six months of her death.

According to custom I should have gone to my father’s brother. But my mother’s brother was an Anointed Elder, well connected and financially comfortable, so I was sent to him at Gateshead Righteous Household near New Bellefleur in the south of Idaho.

Uncle Reed also succumbed to an early death, from a wasting disease no one would ever speak of. When he lay dying upstairs a year after my arrival, he made his wife swear before God to keep me and raise me as she would her own children. Mr. Fleming, the vicar, was witness to her solemn oath.

I didn’t mind going to the morning room to see the vicar. Mrs. Reed was always civil to me in front of visitors, and there were sure to be raspberry teacakes. I didn’t particularly like Mr. Fleming, but that was unremarkable. I didn’t particularly like anybody.

I didn’t dislike him.

In a mood to seek approval, I brushed my hair and secured it in a chignon at the nape of my neck. I changed into my new dress, a soft white cotton and silk blend with a high waist and a scooped neck. The skirt flowed from just below my breasts to mid calf length. I put on my gold cross pendant, my one piece of jewelry and the only memento from my mother.

Mrs. Reed nodded approval when I entered the room. John Reed scowled as usual then pretended not to see me.

Eliza, two years younger than me, had the honor of pouring Mr. Fleming’s tea. As the pot wavered in her hands, Mrs. Reed frowned, making her more nervous. The vicar kindly tried to divert attention from Eliza, and his gaze landed on me.

“How is Jane Eyre coming along?” His smile fell when he really looked at me. If he meant to instigate some pleasant chit-chat, he’d picked the wrong subject. “Not another Georgiana, I see. Not destined for great beauty.”

“Another Georgiana?” John Reed snickered and looked at me sideways. “Don’t hold your breath, vicar.”

John Reed was seventeen and heir to Gateshead, though his sister Georgiana was his superior in age and character. Under the Edicts, Decrees, and Laws of New Judah, a female can inherit only in the absence of a male.

Georgiana was also
my
superior in character. By now I would have murdered John Reed, if not for the inheritance then to rid the world of a meritless pest.

He was tall and thick for his age, with limp hair the color of dirt in August, ruddy skin, and persistent acne. He gorged himself at every meal, resulting in flabby cheeks, a general repulsive softness, and a belly which spilled over his belt. At the moment, the crumbly evidence of raspberry teacake covered that belly.

“Are you enjoying your sabbatical, John?” I said.

His face darkened, as I’d intended. I felt a small victory in delivering the sting. It was a sensitive subject. He ought to be away at school, but he’d had trouble finding one to accept him.

“Oh, Jane Eyre. Why did you remind me?” Mrs. Reed rubbed the furrow between her eyes. “California, Mr. Fleming. I don’t think I can bear it!”

In accordance with his late father’s final instructions, John had applied to Princeton in the heathen old country. Unfortunately he’d never taken the trouble to study, relying instead on the legacy position he was sure awaited him. Princeton declined Mrs. Reed’s little prince, as did Harvard, Columbia, Brigham Young and several lesser lights. Only one approved university accepted the darling. Pepperdine in the dreaded west.

The vicar said, “I assure you, Mrs. Reed, Pepperdine is an oasis of righteousness. John will receive a good moral education there.”

And not a moment before time
, I thought. I caught Mr. Fleming’s eye, and I knew he thought the same.

Mr. Fleming added, “If John is to take Mr. Reed’s place on the council of elders one day, he must graduate from a listed university. Pepperdine is
,
after all, on the list.”

I turned my face to the window, but John saw my smile in the reflection and scowled at me again. I wished he’d already gone. He’d begged a year off, a sabbatical from study, which his mother agreed to—owing to his delicate health, of course. Everyone could see he was headed for ruin. Everyone but Mrs. Reed.

“The mirrors crack when Jane Eyre walks by.” He returned to the subject of my looks. If he’d been closer, I’m sure he would have kicked me out of habit. “No one can compare her to Georgiana.”

It was true. I have always been plain. My hair is a mystery color, neither brown nor blond. My eyes are hazel, neither blue nor green. My complexion is clear but unremarkable. I was thin even then, not from lack of good food but from lack of appetite.

I was, however, beginning to develop a figure. I’d recently started my courses, to Mrs. Reed’s disgust. She sent me to Bessie, the housekeeper, for instruction on becoming a woman. As Bessie described the business, it all sounded like a lot of mess and bother and humiliation without much reward.

Bessie said it proved God meant women for service and not for authority. I asked her why then did we have authority to run households and care for children and manage so much hard and dirty work? For which cleverness my reward was a slap across the face.

“Jane has her own virtues.” Eliza looked at me kindly. Some innate goodness remained in her—though her brother did his best to drive it out. “But no one’s as pretty as Georgiana. I can’t wait for her to come home.”

Eliza was right about Georgiana. The oldest Reed child was unlike any of her family. I fancied she favored my uncle and not her mother.

Georgiana Reed was quick and clever, and she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She had thick raven hair that followed any pattern Abbot, her lady’s maid, tried with it. Her blue eyes twinkled with fun and mischief. Her complexion was like rose-tinged porcelain, and her lips were a perfect shape and color. (She used rouge and lipstick, but Mrs. Reed seemed to believe her daughter’s features were struck upon her at birth by angel kisses.)

Georgiana was never cruel to me, and sometimes she was actively kind. Only one thing could explain it. As an infant she must have been switched out of her crib by goblins. I chuckled at the picture of it. Were the goblins disappointed or happy with the sour and mean child they brought back to their kingdom in Georgiana’s stead?

Such philosophical questions sustained me in my loneliness.

“Your sister will be home for the Christmas holiday, my pet.” Mrs. Reed took the pot from Eliza to refill her own cup. “My youngest child is correct, Mr. Fleming. Georgiana’s become quite the beauty.”

“Curves enough to tempt but not so much as to intoxicate,” Mr. Fleming said genially.

I thought the coarse remark was shocking. Eliza standing next to him appeared not to hear it, and John grinned and nodded.

Mrs. Reed took no offense. “She gives me no worries. She’ll make a wonderful match.”

“And yet… Harvard?” Mr. Fleming said in honest perplexity. “Curious giving a daughter such an expensive education—and in the United States.”

It was bad enough New Judah was forced to send its sons out to the heathen old country for their degrees. Most good families kept their daughters close to home until marriage. A degree from a local college was sufficient.

It wasn’t as if Georgiana would become a physician or engineer or anything so unsuited to a lady of her rank.

“Those dreadful last instructions.” Mrs. Reed gave the vicar a sharp look. “I’ve carried out my husband’s wishes, even those which cause me grief, as you well know.”

“Yes, Mrs. Reed. Of course, Mrs. Reed.”

“Vaccinations, evolution…” Mrs. Reed grumbled under her breath.

“Troubling things,” Mr. Fleming said. “But Mr. Reed
was
an Anointed Elder. His authority can’t be questioned.”

I turned again to the window, relieved I wasn’t mentioned in the list of Mrs. Reed’s painful obligations. Once I caught her notice, it never turned out well. Georgiana was so lucky.