My Mr. Rochester 1(28)

“True, Jane. It was my pleasure.”

“You’re the only one who ever loved me, Bessie. Bishop Brocklehurst took them away with all my decent clothes, but I’ve never forgotten your kind gift.”

“I’m glad, Miss Jane. For look what I have here for you.”

She brought the hat and scarf out of her bag and handed them to me. I buried my face in their softness.

“When I saw that sad pile of your nice things on the table in the morning room, I wanted to scream,” she said. “The bishop told Mrs. Reed to give them to the poor box at church, and Mrs. Reed ordered me to take them away. I did nothing wrong to save these two items for you, since they never did belong to Mrs. Reed. I knew—or hoped—I’d see you again one day.”

A whistle blew and the board flashed, announcing the Zephyr’s arrival. I left Bessie with all my best wishes. As my train pulled away, I felt happy. I wasn’t alone in the world. Bessie cared for me. So had Miss Miller in her way. And Helen Burns. I wondered if Helen’s spirit conversed with my guardian angel in heaven. Were they watching over me now?

I was a hundred miles away from Gateshead before I realized I’d forgotten to ask about Eliza. If only I could forget Mrs. Reed and her son so easily.





« Chapter 11 »

Stranger on a Train


My accommodations on the Zephyr must have cost a couple thousand dollars. Mrs. Fairfax provided the ticket, but I expected the amount would be deducted from my grand new salary. No rational person who works for her living travels first class, but I put aside my irritation at the extravagance. There was nothing I could do about it now.

In the private compartment, two plush seats faced each other and a window ran the length of the space. The United States-based Zephyr was limited to civilized speeds within New Judah’s borders, but it was impossible to hide away its heathen amenities.

The compartment was electrified. The porter showed me how to turn on the lights and extend the seats into beds. The refrigerator contained wine and cheese and fresh fruit. One machine made food instantly hot, and another brewed a single cup of fresh coffee or tea. The lighting was soft and easy on the eyes—far better for reading than candlelight. This was the seductive side of technology.

I could live with it.

My light lunch didn’t stay with me long, and I was hungry by time for the evening meal. The dining car would be full of Americans, and I changed into one of my navy teacher’s dresses and put on my plainest white collar. The uniform announced that I belonged somewhere, that I was under someone’s protection.

I moved through the dining car, hoping to find a genial New Judean party with an open seat, ideally someone who liked to talk and knew something of Millcote County. I should have arrived earlier. The only empty seat was at a table with three sour-looking clergymen, by their hats two rectors and a vicar. They wore their white cravats as I did my collar—defensively. I was about to sit down with the chokers when someone called my name.

“Jane!” A hand shot up near the far end of the car, and an American rose. “Jane Eyre! Come join me!”

The woman was about twenty-four years old with dark hair cut to her jaw line and thick bangs over arching eyebrows. Her face was painted like a China doll, and her pink and black earbobs danced as she grinned and waved. “Come, Jane. Don’t you know me?”

“Georgiana Reed.”

I wouldn’t know her without Bessie’s heads-up. No one would take her for a New Judean. She wore shiny black pants and a loose pink cotton sweater with a low scooped neckline. Her lips made me smile. Candy-apple red. She always did like makeup.

“It’s Georgie now. I’d know you anywhere, Jane,” she said. “I hoped I’d see you on the train. Turn around. Let me look at you.”

She fixed on my one vanity. I wore my hair in a French braid, the style adapted from Miss Temple. I’d let the braid fall to my waist instead of tucking it in.

“Deluxe.” She made the X into a kssss and flashed her eyes. “You’re plain as ever, but don’t let anyone tell you plain is ugly. You’re like a little sparrow. You’ve got great thick hair, such a lovely honey color—and look at that figure!”

I felt my face go hot and quickly sat down.

“And still proud, I see.” Georgiana refilled her wine from the bottle on the table. She poured some for me and raised her glass to mine. “Congratulations on your licensure. I’m gratified you considered my advice.”

I drank, if only to afford myself some space. She was so effervescent!

“Bessie tells me you’re going to be a doctor,” I said.

“I am a doctor,” she said. “But I’m training in a specialty.”