The Young Man, The Older Man and The Letter
Chapter 1: The Young Man and The Letter
Disclaimer: Well you probably know the rigmarole (story), but I'll say it anyway. most of the places, people, or things in this story come form Pride and Prejudice. They are Jane Austen's and not mine. I made up Jonathan Brown, but all other characters are Jane Austen's.
Background: For those of you who don't know or forgot or whatever, here is a little basic background for my story. This takes place in Chapter 38. Elizabeth has gotten the letter from Mr. Darcy and is now at Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's House in London "where they were to remain for a few days" (p. 162)
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). I had to write this for school and I thought it would be cool to put the story up. I tried to fit the story in so it was possible for it to happen. I tired to honor Mrs. Austen's writing and tried VERY HARD to stick to the story, so bear with me.
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"Where do I begin?" thought Elizabeth Bennet. Absently the attractive, 20- year-old young lady rubbed the quill pen's feather with her finger. She stared at the piece of paper and at what she had written: Grosvenor Street, London, along with the date and time. Finally heaving a sigh, she got as far as to write "Dear sir," before there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" she called, turning to face the door. The door opened and a young man, perhaps 24, entered the room. He was clean-shaven, and had dark brown hair that hung down to his ears.
He smiled at Elizabeth and said, "Well, no shopping today?" his eyebrows crinkled up in amusement, though he did not laugh. She smiled too, though it was a distracted one. "No, no, I'm." she trailed off not knowing what to say, or how much to say of what she did know. "What's wrong Liza? You've been down since you came here." he asked her. At her still silent face he continued, this time his eyebrows crinkling in anxiety. "Liza, we have been friends since you first met the Gardiner's and I first came to work here. Tell me what ails you, for I can tell something does. Your eyes rarely sparkle with joy now. What is it?" He dropped onto a crouch to stare into Elizabeth's downcast eyes. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it, and started, "John-" She stopped but continued, "Do you know of Fitzwilliam Darcy?"
A while later, if one looked into the room of Elizabeth Bennet at Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's house in London, one would see Elizabeth Bennet herself and Jonathan Brown, one of Mr. Gardiner's man-servants and a good friend of Elizabeth and Jane Bennet's, sitting, Elizabeth looking spent having just told John of all her troubles with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. After Elizabeth had stopped, the two just sat there while John tried to soak everything in and to come up with something to say, but all that came out was a sigh that was almost a whistle. "Well, Liza, I must say, you don't go half-way," he grinned at her scowling look. "Cheer up, you like him, don't you?" before she could protest he continued, "You've been moping around here despite seeing your sister again and going shopping for all your sisters. On which you drag me so I can carry all the stuff that you get," he playfully reproached her, she grinned appreciatively. "There's the Liza I know." He chuckled, "Write to him." Before any words could get out of her opening mouth he cut her off again, "Liza, I know you as well as I know my own sister, better probably, because I liked you a lot better than her. Think about it; Darcy just proposed to you, you turned him down, he wrote a letter to you explaining everything you protested against him with, you carry that same letter around in your purse and take it out to read when you think no one is watching, you've read it so many times, it is permanently creasing, and your sad. Put that together Liza, you've got the head for it. I'll be polishing the carriage, come to me if you are stuck, and I'll see what I can do." He winked jovially at her, and stood up, causing her head tilt up to watch him. "Liza, you know your own heart better than anyone, read what is plainly written there and follow your own heart's advise." With a kindly, yet affectionate way, he gently kissed her hand and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She sighed; John had merely enforced what she knew she must do and kept her from chickening out, which is what she had considered. But it felt good to let her feelings out to someone, and tell what had happened o her. As she turned to the table again, she saw the cream colored paper again, with the heading and address clearly stated upon it. She had forgotten all about it while she relived her adventure to John, "He must have seen it. It was out on the desk, he probably did and did not want to say anything about it." She sighed and again picked up the quill pen and started to write, not yet sure what would come up, but just let her feelings flow out.
"Dear Sir,
You need not worry that I will repeat any allegations that I accused you of earlier. That is not the purpose of my writing to you. I want to apologize. I have pondered much on your letter and I hove come to some conclusions. Firstly, about Jane and Bingley, my sister is a quiet and reserved girl. She does not want to push feelings that are not their own on anyone. I would have though you would be able to see that, but I admit, she does hide her feelings well, even from me, her own sister and best friend. I grant to you that your heart was placed right even if your observations weren't. Forgive my sir, I did not mean for it to come out like that. Your observations were a very fair guesses as much as I hate to admit it. But you must also grant me partiality on my sister's side, she has been extremely sad ever sine she parted from Bingley, and I am worried about her. Secondly, about my family, I admit my family is not the best at times, but that can happen to any family. If you would grant me pardon, then I would like to point out Lady Catherine de Bourge in your family. Thirdly, concerning Mr. Wickham, he is a deceiving fellow, as you yourself know. I can hardly be blamed for having been misled by him. He has taken in your own sister and many people wiser than myself. He has a fair face, a soft voice, potent words, and wonderful timing of telling his story. Which was not helped by your lack of speaking or talking to anyone. It only made his case stronger and yours weaker. But as I think yet again on Wickham, I am forced to believe in your view of events. Please forgive my of any offences I have made upon you and I hope this letter will restore your good faith in my name and hope that not all people are bad in your heart. God bless.
Elizabeth Bennet"
She signed her name with a flourish and took the letter out to read to John and to see what he had to say. John had his sleeves rolled up and a bucket of soapy water on the ground next to him as he scrubbed down the carriage. When she walked in he turned, and gave her a brilliant smile that made her courage all the greater. She smiled and said simply, "I wrote it. Do you want to hear?" He grinned devilishly and said blatantly, "Is this a trick question? Of course! Sit down on the bench over in that corner and read it to me while I finish up, I'm almost done." She settled herself down on the bench, taking more time than she needed. She glanced up to see John looking amused, she snapped, "What?" "You," he shrugged and turned back to the black carriage, "Nervous?" She didn't answer and he didn't turn around to look. She cleared her throat and started.
As she finished, John was sitting down on the driver's bench in the front of the carriage. He was silent for a moment, but said in a tone so quiet she had to stand up and walk over to hear him, "my Liza, that was the best damn letter I've ever heard you write," she swatted him playfully on the head, but his face remain ed serious. "No I mean it, you've have written longer and more poetic ones, God knows I've delivered enough of them, but this comes from your heart, you mean this, and it's hard to admit. Elizabeth," he slid down and stood eye to eye in front of her, "Liza, I would be honored beyond all telling to deliver this letter for you." He held her hands and gazed into her eyes.
Shudders shook her and she wobbled, John pulled her into his arms as she sobbed out her heart, her muffled words were still audible though, "I wantt- t-t-tted to say s-s-so-so-something to hi-i-i-im-im but I co-co-coul-l- ldn't-t-t. I do li-li-li-like him J-j-jo-ohn." She gasped for breath and went ranting on, her words growing clearer as her feelings intensified, "I, w-wa-wa-nted to te-te-ll him I be-be-li-lieve him, but I ca-ca-can't! He is stuck in my head, I close my eyes and see him, at n-n-n-ni-ight I dream of him, I my spare time he comes strolling in-in-in-nto my thoughts, daydreams, and plans! Why? Why?" Gradually her cries died down and her fists that had been pounding John's chest with every statement and question which he could not answer, which was all of them, finally slowed, brew weaker and stopped. She aged against him and he helped her to the bench.
John had always been like the big brother that Elizabeth never had. Elizabeth was the naughty yet incredibly intelligent younger sister he yearned to tease with and be able to share feelings with. The two had always had a strong relationship, a friendship with love; a love that was respect, honor, and willingness to do whatever for the other that would make them happy again. He knelt before her yet again, and picked her head up from her hands between her knees. He wiped the tear stains from her face with his thumbs and held her face, "Slam down Liza, you'll be fine. I'll take the letter To Darcy today and I swear on my honor that I will try my best to be there when he reads the letter and tell you what his reactions are."
The look of gratitude on her face was so starkly plain, that John nearly grinned. "Stand up you goose. Put the letter in an envelope and I'll leave as soon as I can." He took the letter from the driver's bench, the place he had put it lest it get torn during Elizabeth's fury, and closed her fingers around it. He didn't say anything but gave her a look that told her that he was proud of her and would stand by her no matter what. Her face regained its composure and serenity, then the sparkle of laughter flitted into her eyes, "I must look horrible." He put one hand on her cheek and said, "You never could, as much as you tried."
An hour later John galloped off to find Mr. Darcy. After asking around and inquiring of his sources, he finally was able to find the man. It took more time to get into him, it turns out that Darcy's servants were extremely protective of him, "They must love him very much." He thought absently. As soon as Darcy had the letter in his hand he forgot the dirty rider who had brought it. Darcy's world had narrowed down to that single letter, the letter that would bring him utter hope, or utter failure. This was well for John, he could see Darcy's reactions for Elizabeth.
Darcy tore open the letter and quickly flipped open the single sheet of paper. As he read it despair and hope warred on his face. Hope came, his face almost glowed heavenly with the joy of her introduction, then he read some then despair came to the helm. Then, "Oh, Elizabeth, could I but grant you a thousand pardons!" He cried desperately, as if to call though time and space to her. Then his face furrowed in puzzlement and consternation as he read on, "Lady Catherine de Bourgh?" Darcy paced up and down in front of a great fireplace in his room, still reading. His moods swung again, and he exclaimed, "My dear Elizabeth, there are none wiser than you!" his face spoke of all he wanted to tell her and give to her, but could not. His face fell again as he plummeted down as he read on. "I forgive you, I forgive you." his face showed his thoughtfulness and pain and he sank onto the edge of his bed.
John was fascinated to see a single tear, almost as pure as a single diamond balance on Darcy's cheek. John felt that this whole crazy relationship was balanced as delicately as this little teardrop. Perfect in its purity and the emotions it contained, yet only hanging on by a single thread. The light shimmered around the drop and made it seem to shine for a second, before it fell and splattered onto the letter Darcy held to his bosom.
John heard Darcy whisper "God bless you, dear lady," then John stepped forward. Darcy was immediately aware of him and his current state and posture. Darcy cleared his face to neutrality and put he letter down on his lap. "You are the messenger?" he asked his voice steady now. John had intended to see Darcy's reactions then leave, but now that he saw the strength of his feelings he couldn't help but want to help him. "It was no wonder now how this man inspires such loyalty." John thought wonderingly. "Yes Sir, I am a friend of Liz- Elizabeth Bennet's." Darcy had obviously caught this accidental drop of information. "Anyone who is on a nickname term basis with Elizabeth is a friend of mine. Please sit down," he pointed to a chair opposite where he sat on the bed.
John sat down and a silence fell, both studied each other. Finally John snapped out a question, "You really love her don't you? I never would have believed it if I had not seen you read that letter." Darcy blushed slightly, bit answered softly, "Yes, I am." Then it was Darcy's turn, "Do you love her?" and immediately looked like he wanted to take the question back but wanted desperately to know. John answered truthfully and thoughtfully, "At one point I loved her as you love her now, but she did not return my affections, we were separated for some time and next time I saw her, I realized my love had turned down a different path, no less intense, but in a different way. I love her as a brother loves a favored sister." He glanced up his mind jerked from the past to the present.
He answered Darcy's unstated question "You need to be gentle, Darcy. She is scared, I don't think she has ever felt this or been through this before. You need be friendly and attentive; she does not want an aloof gentleman, but a friendly, informative, and kind friend who just happens to be a perfect gentleman. A man who will descend to any level to be with her, who will transgress any level, plain, or passage to bring her and her friends and family happiness, health, and prosperity. She wants an equal, not a tyrant." John leaned forward and sat up straight, his arms flailing, now fully into his lecture. Darcy simply sat there and listened, only his keen and bright, perhaps over bright, eyes showed his thoughts. John continued, "Show your love and respect for her, Darcy, not your money or majesty. She has glimpsed the man behind the mask and has had hints in dozens of him; show her that man. Other girls may want the money, or majesty, or prestige that comes with you. But she only wants happiness and a true love with whom she can be an equal with a learn from and always be friends with until the end of both their days." He stopped suddenly and grimaced, "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that to you." he trailed off, and glanced hurriedly up at Darcy.
He was smiling. John stared, Darcy answered his questioning look, "No wonder you two are friends, you two are like two peas in a pod. Both of you get carried away in eloquence and your beliefs. But Elizabeth holds herself in better." He grinned. John smiled a rueful small smile, but there was sadness in there too as he pondered Liza's outburst earlier. Darcy caught onto his mood and sobered, "What is it?" he asked. John hesitated before answering weighing his words carefully. "Liza, Elizabeth to you, isn't as strong as you and the rest of the world make her out to be. She puts up a shield, it is a tight fitting one and she lets just enough of herself to shine through to make it natural. I have only seen it let down on rare times. One was when I told here that I loved her," he shuddered remembering the look in her eyes, it was as if he, her best friend had died, and it could never go back to being the same thing ever again. Seeing that look he quickly turned it into a joke and she regained her wits and her shield. He had hid from her all feelings, and when the love he felt for her turned down a different road, it was almost as if both felt the change and welcomed it.
"The other time was today-" John broke off. Darcy leaned forward eagerly, John stood up, he had not meant to say anything of Elizabeth's feelings only scope out Darcy's. Darcy realized this and just barely concealed his disappointment, but he could fit just enough together to piece together what it was about. "I really must be going, I am sorry, but I really must." John started to leave, but Darcy cried out, "Wait, let me write a letter to her!" he hurried to his desk and started to rip out supplies.
A sound rap echoed from the large ornate doors. Darcy cursed, one of the rare times he ever had. "Come in!" he yelled to the door. A manservant came in. He started to tell Darcy the message, but stopped when he saw John. "Just say it Mathews, he's a friend." The man continued, "Sir, you have a verbal message from Mrs. Reynolds." Darcy frowned and said "later" to John and motioned for the man to continue. "Miss Georgiana has taken ill with the fever, and Mrs. Reynolds requests that you come home right away. Darcy stood stunned for a second before telling the man to go. He turned to John, "Mrs. Reynolds, is my housekeeper and as dear to me as you are to Elizabeth, close in all but blood."
Both realized that this meant he would have to leave immediately; there was no time for letters now. Darcy started and said, "Can you take a verbal message to Elizabeth? Tell her I love her and-," but John interrupted him saying, "Darcy, do you really want to do it this way? I know Elizabeth, and it will be better for her to have no message. She will forget the good and exploit the bad. She will believe you made it all up, that I convinced you to do it to ease her poor ego. She'll need proof, proof that you really are who you really are, I wouldn't advise it, I'll deal with her and I'll tell her that I could only get it to you by sending it though an inside source and they got caught and so they couldn't watch your reaction. That wil satisfy her. But meet her sometime Darcy, and when you do, be kind." With a bow and a farewell wave Jonathan Brown, a good friend and almost brother to Elizabeth Bennet, a good friend to Jane and the Gardiners, and a new friend of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, left the room. But he paused at the doorway and turned his head slightly and said in almost a whisper to Darcy, "Make her happy in the way I never could," and he left.
As Darcy sat next to his frail sister back at Pemberly, he thought about and read Elizabeth's letter a lot. He even told and read the letter to Georgiana, though she was having fevered dreams at the time so it would be highly doubtful if she remembered any of it. All she remembered was to wake up and see her dear brother sitting there holding her hand or sleeping, his head on the bed, seated on a chair next to the bed. Even in sleep he would not let go of her hand. She would gently stroke Darcy's face and hair, then curl up next to him and hold his hand tightly and go to sleep. The servants would remember looking in on the brother and sister and seeing the two lying there asleep, and they would think of what a wonderful young master and mistress they had. If only the right women and man would come along to make them happy. Most even thought of the young women that Darcy was so infatuated with, others wouldn't. But when Darcy slept or woke, or dreamt, the same thing that happened to Elizabeth happened to him, Elizabeth Bennet wandered in his thoughts, her eyes, her hair, her smile, her laugh, her witty remarks, the way she walked, the way she looked, everything. Yet the time for the two to meet was not yet ripe, but it would be, it would be.