"Papa, you're not truly leaving me here, are you?" Kara asked. It almost came out as begging. Her bags were here, he was dressed in his new uniform.

"I'm afraid I must, sweetie. I should be back in a few months. Pemberley Academy is a fine finishing school."

"I'm sure it is, papa." Even though the name does sound like a place for old spinsters. "But do you really have to go?"

"Sweetie, this is a very important voyage for England. If I can bring back the treasure, the country will be rich. And I will be a wealthy man, with the finder's fee."

"Papa, what if your former…associates… are after the treasure?"

"Oh, they most certainly will be. Don't concern yourself with that. I can handle them."

He patted the sword at his side meaningfully, and then rapped on the door. It opened, and a tall, lean woman stood in the doorway. Her dress was black, with long sleeves and a high collar. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head. Her round face was pale, with a long nose, thin lips frowning, brown eyes glaring severely.

"You must be Captain Bennett, and Miss Kara Bennett. I am Mrs. Moore, Headmistress of Pemberley Academy." Captain Bennett bowed formally while Kara curtsied, both murmuring greetings. "We are very pleased to have you here, Kara, and rest assured, Captain, we will turn her into a proper Englishwoman in no time."

"Of course. And while she's here, she is to have everything she desires. Dresses, jewels, exotic scents, whatever she wants."

"That's rather extravagant, Captain. Are you quite certain?"

"Absolutely. Now, I've got to go, sweetie."

Father and daughter embraced, her cheek resting against his deep blue scarf. "I love you, papa."

"I love you too, sweetie."

As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Moore turner to Kara and said, "Gather your bags, and I will show you to your room."

Kara did so, a little put off by her attitude. No welcoming smile, no offer of something to drink. Her room was nice, however. It had a vanity dresser with a mirror, an armoire, shelves of books, and a four poster bed with silk sheets. A pale blue dress with short sleeves was laid out on the bed.

"This is your uniform. Put it on, and I will take you to French class," said Mrs. Moore.

Kara took the dress behind the changing screen in the corner, and once she was ready, she was taken to a room with five other girls who were eighteen like herself.

"Ladies, this is Kara Bennett. I expect you'll be agreeable to her."

The girls chorused agreement, but as soon as Mrs. Moore was gone, the claws came out.

"So, where exactly do you come from? I'm afraid I am unaware of any notable Bennett's in London" "Erm, I- my papa is a Captain. I grew up with him on his ship."

"Oh, really? He's in Her Majesty's Navy?"

"Not exactly."

A cold laugh echoed through the room, coming from a girl with a long blonde braid. Her grey eyes were frigid, her eyebrows arched, her nose slightly upturned. Here was trouble.

"I know who she is. Her father is a pirate."

"Papa prefers the term 'opportunist'," Kara corrected her, "And, actually, he's a privateer now. Queen Victoria made this arrangement herself."

"What arrangement?"

"He's recovering some items of considerable value for her. It will make England very rich, and gain us Her Majesty's favor."

"So you say," Said the blonde, "But, growing up on a pirate ship like a savage, you can hardly fit into proper English society. Bit hard to gain a Queen's favor with such deplorable social skills."

Kara's cheeks were pink with anger. "Well, I suppose that's why I'm here to learn about these things," she murmured quietly.

"Come, class, to your French lesson," the teacher said as she entered the room suddenly.

After a day of lessons that included French, deportment, art, and music, then a dinner, the girls got two hours of free time. Kara sat alone, working on her stitching. Or rather, she attempted to sit alone.

"Do you have any idea of the importance of this school?" The blonde from earlier in French class asked Kara. The Privateer's daughter learned earlier that her name was Amelia Price.

"To impress people at redundant parties?" Kara guessed, snipping off a thread.

"Those parties are a girl's season, signaling her debut into society and her eligibility for marriage."

"Mmm. Being tied down is important, is it?"

"'Tied down'? You know nothing. Marriage is security."

"Sounds like imprisonment to me."

"Well, what can I expect from a pirate's daughter that doesn't pay attention in class?"

"Privateer," Kara snapped, "And I'm already fluent in French. Madame was only giving me old information."

"How is it you are fluent in French?"

"Papa gave me what education he thought useful. Beyond that, I got to learn what interested me. Is there a point to all these questions beyond supplying you and your friends with fresh gossip about me?"

Amelia sniffed disdainfully. "Very well, I can see you're determined to be completely incorrigible, so I shall leave you to simmer in your bitterness."

Kara glared after her. She hadn't meant to be rude, but Amelia and her superiority rubbed her the wrong way.

She shook her head and went back to her stitching. This was actually an activity that she enjoyed and learned by requesting the information from her papa, who got her a teacher. Stitching was important to her because it was relaxing. Just her and the cloth, no complications.

And it took months, but Kara finally felt like she was making progress. With classes, anyway, if not her classmates. She was expecting to hear from her papa any day now. She got word of him, if in a left handed sort of way.

A solider came to Pemberley with a somber expression and her father's blue scarf in hand. Shocked into silence, Kara took it and ran to her room, where she could commence her crying in peace. A few hours later, Mrs. Moore came to her. By this time, Kara's hazel eyes were dry, and she was curled up on the seat by the window.

"I am here to explain things to you, Miss Bennett," said the Headmistress, "Your father is dead. What's more, he did not find the treasure he was after. You are an orphan now, no longer special. You may stay on at this Academy, but not as a student. You will be a servant. Which means this is no longer your room. All yours things will be sold to provide your upkeep and you must move to the attic. Change your uniform and go."

A dress was thrown at her, and Mrs. Moore exited. Kara stood and held it against herself. The color was dark brown, it was sleeveless, and the skirt was ripped past the knee. Surely she wasn't meant to wear this?

Kara looked around for something to wear under it. She chose a long sleeved, cleavage baring, simple grey dress. The brown dress was put on over it, hiding a little cleavage. There, that helped. And if her bare feet peeked out from the skirts as she walked, so what? At least it wasn't her ankles. She put her long, wavy, auburn hair into a bun at the base of her skull, leaving two thin locks framing her ivory face. Now that was better. She was as clean and presentable as she could be dressed in rags with no shoes or accessories.

Silently, she took her scarf and trekked up to the attic. It was spacious, as it took up the length and width of the building. A column of bricks against the far wall was a chimney that was from the sitting room fire place downstairs. To the right of the room was a low cot with a single pillow and thin blanket.

Next to that was a small nightstand, which held a single candle in its holder, some matches, a comb, and a pitcher of water accompanied by a bowl, soap, and a towel for washing her face. Above the nightstand was a small mirror barely able to show her whole face. To the left was a window, big enough for a person to step through, the two glass doors open to let in the fresh air. That was all. It was quite a plain place. But she'd have to get on somehow.

So she put her scarf on the cot and went back downstairs to start cleaning. There were windows, floors to be cleaned, silver to be polished, rugs to be beat, and she had to fetch groceries for the cook. All day she worked. At the end of the day, she was given a small loaf of bread and a cup of water.

"What? This can't be all I get for dinner."

"You'll learn to take what you can have, you ungrateful little bastard child!" the cook snarled suddenly.

Kara gaped at her, flabbergasted. "I-I-I beg your pardon!" she stammered.

The nice lady that was so pleasant to her just the other day that now turned so cruel was shocking to see. What a twisted transformation!

Kara scampered up to the attic and ate on her bed, jumping at shadows. Eventually, she removed her brown work dress, deciding to use the grey one as a night dress and an under slip.

She took her hair down and crawled onto the cot, covering herself with the blanket. She fell asleep, but it was far from a restful slumber. She was hungry and cold, unable to rest. When she woke, she found she was still tired. Kara shook her head, determined to continue on. She got up and went to the window, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the vibrant sunrise.

"Bonjour," a cheerful voice exclaimed. Kara squeaked, jumping in fear, and looked quickly over to the roof on the right. There was a man there, dressed in dark, formal clothing.

"Bonjour," Kara replied uncertainly, "Umm, who are you?"

"Ah, my name is Leon. I am the butler for Monsieur Destler, the master of this manor."

"Oh. My name is Kara. Aren't you afraid you'll fall off that roof?"

"Not at all. Before Monsieur Destler took me in, I was an orphan roaming the roofs of London, scavenging for food. My past is above this city. The roofs are my life."

Kara smiled at him, and he smiled back. He seemed nice, his chestnut brown hair shining in the sun and his blue eyes shimmering, white teeth against tan skin flashing at her. Suddenly she became aware that her thin dress clung to her figure and showed quite a bit of her bosom.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, covering her chest with her arms, "It was very nice to meet you, Leon, but I- I need to get to work now." She gave a quick smile and ducked back into the attic, closing the window doors.

Leon chuckled. She was quite an agreeable girl, he thought. Kind, concerned for others, and beautiful. With the sun illuminating her ivory skin, and setting free the fire in her loose auburn hair, she seemed to blaze with light from within. The dress, revealing her curves, was simple yet becoming. She wore no jewels or cosmetics, her lips a natural red. A true beauty.

There was something in her hazel eyes when he mentioned his life as an orphan. Sadness? Pity? No, sympathy. Understanding. Was she alone too?

And what work could a young lady like her possibly have? That building was for teaching young ladies domestic arts and accomplishments. So she wasn't a governess, as that place had no tiny children. From the simplicity of her appearance and the fact that she slept in the attic suggested she was a servant for the small school.

Intrigued by the mysterious girl in the attic, Leon went back inside the manor, deciding to keep an eye on her. And perhaps, in the process, he would find out more.

Author's Note: I'd like to mention this is my first story on Fanfiction, so reviews are highly anticipated and welcome. I set this story during Queen Victoria's reign, because this story is based on Gaston Leroux's novel. It was published in 1910, and in the beginning of the book, he says the events with Erik and Christine happened not thirty years ago, putting the date that happened around 1870. The events of my story happen somewhere after that. The story is named as it is because while Andrew Webber wrote his own sequel to Phantom of the Opera, I want to make my own sequel, because I don't like Christine and OC's are much more conducive to the imagination. So, Love Never Dies never happened, and I proudly present Love Lingers.