The Impoverished Orphan (Pride & Prejudice Variation)

Chapter 1 Life with the Bartons

Knight's Manor, Wiltshire

Elizabeth

My kind, grey-haired nurse, Mrs. Oakley, led me to the doorway of my aunt’s morning-room, a bright space decorated in green and gold. “Here she is, madam.” She patted my back, urging me onwards, then retreated to the hall.

With a bright smile, my aunt stood from her chair and beckoned. “Come here, Lizzy.”

“Aunt Barton!” I rushed across the soft, floral carpet towards her but made a sudden stop. Moments earlier, my nurse had admonished me to give my aunt a proper greeting. She had reminded me, You are five years old now and no longer a baby. I dropped into a hurried curtsey. “Good day, Aunt Barton.”

A pink glow lit my aunt’s fair skin, making her even more pretty than usual.

“Very nice, my sweet girl, and good day to you, too. Now, may I have a hug?” She opened her arms, and I ran into her embrace.

She lifted me, rocking us back and forth.

No one else gave hugs like she did! Aunt Barton resumed her seat, placing me sideways upon her lap.

Her bulging belly pressed against my hip.

I stared at her swollen stomach. “When will the baby come?”

“In a few more weeks, I think. Are you eager to meet him or her?”

“Yes, I want another cousin to play with.”

Her arm encircled my shoulder. “You are such a comfort to me, Lizzy. Although you are three months younger than Cassie, you are much more mature. You are kind and protective of her, like an ideal sister. And you are a fine playmate for Noah.”

I could not help but grin. How I loved my aunt’s praise!

“Ah!” Aunt Barton held still. “The baby is kicking. Here, give me your hand.” She pressed my palm to her swollen skin, and a tiny bubble of pressure pushed against me.

“I felt the baby move!” I giggled.

“He or she has been very active today.” Aunt Barton released my hand. “I have received a letter from your uncle Gardiner. When he stayed here at Christmastide, he spent a great deal of time with you. I believe you liked him very much.”

I nodded and pictured my uncle Gardiner, a brown-haired young man with an agreeable face. He had joked with me, read to me, and even given me a fine doll.

“Well, Mr. Gardiner shared happy news. Next month, he will move into the home of his employer, a Mr. Pembroke. He has spoken of you to Mr. Pembroke and his wife, and they have extended an invitation for you to stay at their house this September. This will be a fine opportunity for you to spend time with your uncle.”

What? Why should I do that? I chewed upon the inside of my cheek.

“Will you, Noah, and Cassie stay there too?” I did not include my uncle Barton because he did not like me; it would not matter whether he came or not.

On his infrequent visits to the nursery, he saved his attention and smiles for Noah and Cassie.

“No, my sweet, the invitation is for you in particular. Your uncle Gardiner is your late mother’s brother, and he wants to spend more time with you. I think you are mature enough for this trip. I plan to travel to the Pembroke home with you and ensure you are comfortable there before I depart.”

“Oh.” My parents and my sister, Jane, lived in Heaven, and I had no memories of them or of my previous home. But I loved Aunt Barton and my two cousins very much and would not want to be in a strange house without them. “I should much rather stay here with you.”

My aunt moved a dark curl out of my eyes. “You need not fret. Your uncle Gardiner is an amiable man, and the Pembrokes have been most gracious to him, so I am certain you will be content. We shall plan your first visit to be a brief stay of no more than a se’nnight.”

Seven days? That sounded like a very long time! Yet my aunt’s cheerful manner soothed me, and I did not speak the words. After all, she liked my uncle Gardiner, and he had been kind to me. He must be a nice person.

“Now you had better run along with Mrs. Oakley and resume your studies.” She lowered me to the floor. With a parting curtsey, I removed to the hall, and my nurse urged me towards the stairs.

At the second-floor landing, I tugged upon Mrs. Oakley’s hand. “May we stop in the sitting-room to see the portrait?”

She nodded. “Yes, we may stay there for a short time.”

The painting adorned the wall opposite the fireplace.

Light from the adjacent window allowed for a clear view of my parents’ faces.

Mother sat in a green chair looking happy and regal.

I admired her golden hair and blue eyes.

She must have been no less beautiful than Aunt Barton.

My aunt has said that my mother loved to entertain, and she laughed often.

Standing behind her, my father made for a more sedate figure. Although I should not call him handsome, he looked very learned. He held a book against his waistcoat. My aunt has described him as ‘wise and scholarly’. Once I grew older, I should read each one of his books that had been left to me.

On a few occasions, my parents appeared in my dreams; they would come to stay at Knight’s Manor. Sometimes Jane accompanied them. I had no portrait of my sister, but Aunt Barton remembered her as a sweet, shy blonde-haired child.

Mrs. Oakley placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let us return to the nursery now, Miss Bennet.”

“Very well.” I allowed her to lead me away but took a backwards glance. Good day, Mama and Papa.

June 1801

Knight's Manor

Elizabeth

I knocked upon the door to my uncle’s study and entered at his invitation.

Uncle Barton stood from behind his desk.

He had never been an especially attractive man, but ever since my dear aunt and her baby had died in childbirth five years ago, he had aged quite a bit.

The grey hairs in his thick mane threatened to overtake the brown ones.

Excess pounds had settled around his middle, and the lines beneath his eyes often lent him a haggard look, as they did today.

He appeared far different from the painting of him and Aunt Barton that held a prominent position in the portrait gallery.

Since my aunt’s demise, the entire household had undergone a profound alteration from a sunny, happy home to a far more subdued one.

As the years passed, Cassie and I struggled to preserve our fuzzy remembrances of her.

Noah, now thirteen years of age, retained many more memories of his mother, and we often called upon him to recount these anecdotes for us.

No one, though, had suffered more for Aunt Barton’s death than my uncle. He had cherished her.

Within the last few years, my association with Uncle Barton had greatly improved to the point that he now took an interest in me and my activities. His opinion of me had altered for the better, and I held him in affection. In fact, he had become akin to a paternal figure.

I approached his desk. “You wished to see me, Uncle?”

“Yes, Lizzy, sit down.”

I lowered myself upon the chair and crossed my ankles.

“Miss Green tells me that you are advanced in your studies for your age, and your reading comprehension is impressive.” My uncle pursed his lips. “I only wish Cassie would follow your example.”

Devoid of a defence for my cousin, I made no comment. Cassie did not share my love of learning and took little interest in Miss Green’s lessons. She often tried our governess’s patience.

“You are ten years old now, and you ought to be made aware of a few facts, though you may find them difficult to hear.”

My back stiffened. What could he mean?

“Upon your parents’ marriage, your mother received a settlement of five thousand pounds.

So, when your parents and sister succumbed to ague seven years ago, I assumed those funds had gone to you, though your aunt Barton and I never discussed the matter.

However, after my wife’s death, I went through her desk and discovered documents that indicated your father had invested in a Northumberland silver mine. ”

My uncle stroked his chin. “Unfortunately, the mine proved to be barren, and your father lost every penny of his investment.” He shuffled a bundle of papers on his desk. “Do you understand what that means?”

A memory niggled at me. Aunt Barton had once made a passing mention of my ‘inheritance’, but the details of her comment had faded beyond my grasp; she must have referred to the books in my room that once belonged to my father. “I suppose you are saying that I do not have a dowry.”

“That is correct. Cassie has one, but you do not.”

Just yesterday, Cassie had broached the subject of her fortune, worth over fifteen thousand pounds, and had wanted to know the value of mine. I had replied that I did not know; no doubt she had asked her father that question, precipitating this meeting. “Yes, I see.”

“In light of this disparity, once you enter society, you will need to be mindful that your experience will differ from Cassie’s.

While I expect her to make a fine match one day, your situation is more complicated.

Most eligible gentlemen of substance expect the lady they wed to bring their own portion to the union. ”

I sucked upon my lower lip. Uncle seemed to believe that no gentleman would ever offer for me. I swallowed. “What will become of me if I never marry?”

“Rest assured, you will always have a home here. Neither I nor Noah should ever turn you out. Still, I wanted to prepare you so when the time comes, you will not have unrealistic expectations.”

“Very well.” It seemed my future would be dissimilar from Cassie’s. However, maybe this would not matter so much—after all, she and I had few preferences in common.

“What I have to say next may come as a shock.” He leaned forwards and beheld me with a benevolent expression. “Despite what we have led you to believe, you are not, in truth, my niece.” His voice had a soft, measured tone. “You are neither related to me nor to my late wife.”

I gasped. Could this be true? “But you must be my uncle. Aunt Barton always called me her niece.”