Reborn as 8yo Regency Girl, OP All the Way

Chapter 3 The Future·Learning

As darkness fell, Mrs. Hill, the Bennets’ housekeeper, climbed the stairs to carry away the sleeping Jane. Before leaving, she pressed a gentle kiss to Elara’s forehead.

“Sweet dreams, dear Elara. Goodnight, my child,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Hill,” Elara replied softly.

Mrs. Hill tucked Elara under the covers, blew out the candle, and pulled the window shut. Watching her retreating figure, Elara sighed quietly. It was plain to see her own family’s modest circumstances—they didn’t even have a proper housekeeper, only one maid and one manservant to handle all the work.

The maid, Ruth, doubled as laundress, cleaner, and cook; the manservant juggled the roles of groom and valet. Mr. Harrington insisted on such frugality to save for his children’s dowries and inheritances.

Elara had two younger siblings: a brother, Theodore, who was the apple of Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s eyes, and a baby sister, Maria, just a year old. Maria was cared for by an elderly widow from Longbourn— a woman who’d lost all her family and struggled to make ends meet. Recommended by the parish priest, she lived at the Harringtons’ rent-free with three meals a day, in exchange for looking after Maria. She rarely ventured out of the nursery.

Elara did the math silently. Given the Harringtons’ current finances, her dowry would likely be no more than eight hundred to a thousand pounds. In this era, a pound held considerable purchasing power—a common laborer earned roughly one pound a week, so eight hundred pounds could keep someone fed for years. But the Harringtons were a family of status; respectability demanded costly upkeep.

Take clothing, for instance: a decent suit for a gentleman cost fifteen pounds, while a lady’s silk gown ranged from five to fifteen pounds depending on fabric and embellishments. During the social season, a lady needed at least three new gowns, totaling nearly fifty pounds—without counting hats, gloves, shoes, brooches, and other accessories. A middle-class lady’s annual expenses easily exceeded a hundred pounds.

An eight-hundred to a thousand-pound dowry would leave her living in tight straits if she wished to maintain her station. Yet wages for respectable work were meager: a clergyman earned about thirty pounds a year, and a governess’s salary ranged from thirty to fifty pounds annually. By comparison, being a governess was truly a dignified occupation.

The noise from downstairs kept Elara awake, so she continued her calculations. The party was still in full swing—she could hear the trill of a piano and the rustle of dancing feet. But the merriment wouldn’t last long; candles were expensive, and once they burned low, the guests would take the hint and depart gracefully.

After much thought, Elara realized her only path forward was to attend a girls’ school. The Harringtons couldn’t afford a private governess, so sending her away to school was the only option. But with Theodore just three years old, Mr. Harrington would undoubtedly prioritize his son’s education first. Her best chance lay in finding a charitable school with reduced fees—otherwise, she’d have no access to education at all.

Elara tossed and turned, plotting how to convince her father to let her go to school, and how to win her mother’s support to speak on her behalf. Moonlight seeped through the window cracks, casting silvery streaks across the worn wooden floor—marks of time’s passage. Tomorrow promised to be sunny, perfect for a walk.

Dawn broke, and sunlight flooded the countryside. Mrs. Harrington rose early, directing Ruth in the kitchen as she baked bread. There were two kinds: white bread for the family, and oat bread for the servants. The bread had a slight sour tang from fermentation, and no sugar was added to save money.

Elara ate her slightly sour white bread without butter—she couldn’t stand the stuff—dipping it instead in a runny egg yolk. She paired it with fresh lettuce and a bowl of mushroom cream soup, and her breakfast was complete. While Mrs. Harrington and Ruth set about cleaning the house and checking on Maria, Theodore still slept soundly—he never rose until the sun was high in the sky.

Spotting Mr. Harrington reading the newspaper, Elara gathered her courage and approached him. “Father, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

Mr. Harrington didn’t look up from his paper. “What is it, my dear Elara?” he asked casually.

“Father,” Elara said again, her voice serious and determined.

Mr. Harrington set down the newspaper, his curiosity piqued. “Very well, my love. What is on your mind?” He suspected it was some trivial request—pocket money for a ribbon, perhaps, or new buttons. Little girls were always wanting such things.

Elara met his eyes earnestly. “Father, I want to go to school.”

Mr. Harrington looked surprised. “Go to school? Why, Elara?”

“During my illness, I thought long and hard about what I want to do with my life,” she replied. At the mention of her sickness, a flicker of guilt crossed Mr. Harrington’s face—he’d been too dismissive at the time, nearly letting her condition worsen.

“I want to study the skills a lady ought to have, properly and systematically—embroidery, needlework, French, the piano. Mother cannot teach me these things alone. Theodore is three now; he needs to learn the ways of a gentleman, and Mother’s energy must be devoted to him. When he is ten or so, he’ll need to go to the city to continue his studies and prepare for a respectable career. And Maria needs her care too. Mother simply doesn’t have the time to teach me everything I need to know.”

Mr. Harrington was genuinely astonished. Such thoughtful reasoning hardly seemed possible from an eight-year-old child. He studied her closely. “Elara, who told you all this?”

Elara feigned innocence, her eyes wide with childish wonder. “Isn’t it in the books? I’ve read the ones in your study, Father, and Mr. Bennet is kind enough to lend me his as well. The books say a lady must possess noble virtues and exceptional talents. As a knight’s daughter, I ought to be a true lady—and that means learning these skills.”

The doubt in Mr. Harrington’s eyes faded. It was common knowledge in Longbourn that Elara loved reading; books were always among her birthday gifts. He nodded slowly. “You speak wisely, my dear. I will give it careful consideration.”

“Thank you, Father!” Elara’s face lit up with joy. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You are the best father in the whole world!”