Pride and Prejudice: Spin the Wheel
Elizabeth's sister, Jane, is getting married to a rich man by the name of Charles Bingley. A past affair unremembered creates confusion and despair in the hearts of two of the characters. Then this man, Fitzwilliam Darcy, enters the picture. Will this marriage crisis be put to an end or will it become much more complicated? Romance. Pairings will be revealed as the story progresses.
I. Deceit and Despair – Sometimes, not meaning what you say might just kill someone.
Be there such a thing as ending up with the wrong person, Elizabeth Bennet must have greatly attested if not for her complicated situation. Complicated, defined, might for now be a serious state of confusion…or a denial of denial itself. We really don't know.
April 23rd marked an important day for the Bennets. It was the day of Jane's (the eldest of the sisters) engagement party. The lucky man was Charles Bingley, an affluent man who moved to Netherfield Park months ago with her sister, Caroline. Jane and Charles were acquainted when Caroline threw a ball for all women in Longbourn. Definitely friendly and desperate to make some, Caroline, upon arrival at Netherfield Park, asked Mr. Bingley for permission to throw a ball. There Charles met Jane, stunning as she always was. The man instantly fell for her, and at the same time securing close ties with the Bennets especially the second eldest, Elizabeth.
Jane entered the room for the last time, then sat on the bed beside her sister, Elizabeth, who was not looking as cheerful as she always was.
"Lizzie, can you believe it? I'm actually getting married!" she squeaked excitedly. The younger looked away. "Yeah, now I'm the only one not," she turned. "I'm absolutely happy for you, dear Jane. You deserve this. All of these." She looked down. Her big brown eyes dramatically dropped. She was obviously not happy.
"I won't leave your side," the elder hugged her. "Here, take this." From her pocket she drew a pendant. It was about five centimeters long and was oblong in shape. The beautiful carvings on the gold pendant glimmered as the warm rays of the sun hit its surface. "If that melts," Jane smilingly said, "then we're through. Deal?"
Elizabeth held the pendant in her hand. "It's beautiful," she said. Then she extended her hand to Jane. "Deal."
The Bingley mansion looked stunning that night. Bright lights lit the path where the coaches passed. Inside, walls and ceilings of gold welcomed the astonished guests. Hundreds of thousands of whit roses surrounded the place. A live orchestra played Beethoven from the balcony. The air was romantic. A tinkling of glass was heard. The people at the dining table turned their attention to the holder of the glass.
Charles Bingley held his glass high in the air. "I would like to propose a toast," he started, "to my beautiful wife-to-be, Jane Bennet. May she be always as lovely as she is right now." The people raised their glasses. "to Jane," they said in unison. Charles started speaking again. But this time, reader, we won't hear him. For right now, we enter the head of Elizabeth Bennet…
Elizabeth sat near the end of the table beside her sister Jane. She was looking at Bingley. She observed his red hair, his lovely smile, his every action. Bingley was such a perfect guy. Perfect for Jane, not for me, she thought. But still, she couldn't help but think… only two months ago…
"Elizabeth Bennet, you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met in my entire life!" He bent his head toward her and planted a small kiss on her cheek.
"Ah, Mister Bingley, you sir, are drunk," Elizabeth smiled and jokingly hit him on the nape. "My sister'd get jealous if she saw us two."
"Jane? Nah… She is the person I fancy, a lot. You, on the other hand, I love."
"Pardon, Mr. Bingley?"
Next thing she knew, Charles held his finger to her lips. He was closing in on her until they were only millimeters apart from each other. Elizabeth closed her eyes. Bingley held her smooth face and kissed her softly and lovingly on the lips. The kiss was long and perfect. After the kiss, Charles fell down, asleep. Elizabeth stayed put. She still felt the lingering sensation of Charles' kiss. It felt wrongly right.
And then you forget. The younger Bennet looked at her untouched asparagus soup. You simply forget. You wake up the next morning and you don't remember a thing. She felt the pain in her chest. It wasn't her tight corset. It was expectation failed. She thought too much. Was it her fault to fall for the wrong guy? All her life, all she ever wanted was for someone to really care for her—bigtime. All her sisters had partners—Lydia, Kitty, and Mary settled with some officers last year. Now Jane, and Jane had her only hope. Charles. She couldn't get him out of her head. Charles. This is wrong, really. Charles. He was purposely kidding me. And he was drunk. Charles.
"You, on the other hand, I love…"
"STOOOP!" She jumped back to her senses. Everyone at the table was staring at her—some half chewing their lamb chops. She was standing on her place, her clenched fists rested firmly on the table, her soup everywhere. Slowly, silent teardrops fell from her eyes. Why, why me? A man with dark, mysterious eyes observed her quietly from afar. Bingley looked surprised. Her sister looked worried. "Excuse me," and she ran out as fast as she can.
II. Dejavu Distress – Bingley drinks with his fiancée, Jane. Then he remembers something that happened two months ago…
The world was falling, resting on her weak shoulders. She ran and ran until she could no more. Out of air, she stopped, panted, and fell of desperation to the ground. She was now lying in the middle of the Bingley's vast and well kept lawn, where Bermuda grass and rose bushes just seemed to fall into the right places. She covered her face with her soft hands, as if hiding from all the humiliation she had faced earlier. Bingley belongs to your sister, dumbass, she thought. Quick and sensible Elizabeth was, but for her choices in love, she was not popular. She was just preparing to get up when she heard footsteps advancing toward her.
"Beautiful night." It was her sister, Jane. Lizzie looked up, then down again. "What's wrong, Lizzie? Tell me."
Silence.
"You know, if you still feel bad about me moving away, you can live with us… if you want."
More silence.
"Or I'd come over often… of course I'll visit you!"
Silence again.
Elizabeth stood up. She walked away. Jane followed her. "Lizzy, wait up! Tell me… it isn't that, right?" The younger Bennet faced the older. She looked straight into her eyes. "Yes."
The older looked concerned. "What is it?"
"Why is it that everytime I fall in love, it's always so impossible? You and Lydia and Kitty and Mary already have your men… how about me? For Pete's sake, I'm turning twenty one next month and still, I remain unmarried. It just feels bad, you know," she looked down again.
"Who's the guy, Lizzie?" Jane inquired.
"You'd better not know."
"Do I know him? Maybe I can help you!"
"No you can't."
"Then, dear sister," Jane approached her, "I'm sure that it's the man's loss for not choosing you. You are an extraordinary girl, Lizzie, and I'm sure any man here would want you." She hugged her. "Just follow your heart, you know. If you think he's the one, fight for him. That's what I did with Charles."
Yes. Your Charles. Who will never be mine. Who is the guy I am talking about.
"Yeah, thanks." And with that, she pulled off and walked away.
Jane walked alone toward Bingley mansion, still thinking about her depressed sister. Who could the guy be? Who could hurt her so? The only time Jane saw her sister hurt like this was the time when Mr. Bennet left. Yes, dad's death was a big blow to her. Was it possible that this guy she loved so much died?
When she finally reached Bingley mansion, the guests were starting to go and people bade her goodbye from their carriages. She returned their farewells and with a last wave of a hand, she entered the house's enormous wooden doors. There she saw Charles, waiting for her near the fireplace. He was drunk.
"Jane, my beloved!" he cried out to her. Jane approached her gleeful husband-to-be. Charles started speaking. "Jane Bennet, you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met in my entire life!" He bent his head toward her and planted a small kiss on her cheek.
"Ah, Mister Bingley, you sir, are drunk," Jane smiled and jokingly hit him on the nape. Suddenly, Bingley froze. Clear pictures flashed in his head. Elizabeth. Yes, this thing happened to him before. Elizabeth. Not with Jane, but with her sister, Elizabeth. Elizabeth. No, this can't be.
Jane inched toward him and hugged him passionately. "I love you, Charles." Bingley held his glass as he continued to remember the past. Absentmindedly, he returned the hug. "I love you too, dear Jane."
From afar, a girl named Elizabeth watched the two silhouettes become one beside the firelight.
III. Unwanted Frailty – An accident unfortunately (or fortunately?) brings two people together.
Elizabeth opened her eyes. Still wearing the dress from yesterday's party, she rose from her bed and opened the windows only to reveal a sad, sad, weather. It was dark and gloomy outside, and rain was pouring hard from the heavens. The weather corresponded well to her mood, really. All feelings that she held in her heart last night began to pour out through the rain. She felt better. She looked down through her window. A man, wearing a blue trench coat was walking towards her abode. He had red hair, a tall but lean body, and he was soaked. It was Bingley.
She didn't really feel like talking to him. But alas, the man was wet. She reluctantly headed for the door. She opened it. Charles Bingley stood there, more handsome than he could have been. A soft "Come in," was all she could utter.
Bingley spoke. "I remember."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Bingley. What are you talking about?"
"I remember. I remember everything. Listen Lizzie, did you take the thing I said to heart?"
"I... I… I don't know."
"Did you?"
"…"
"Because dear Elizabeth, I don't know if what I said was true or not. I'm sorry." And with a final kiss on the forehead, he marched out and closed the door.
Elizabeth walked along the alleyway, still thinking about what Bingley told her. "I don't know if what I said was true or not…" So THERE was a chance that he really did love her. Taken away from reality by her thoughts, Lizzie did not notice that as she was crossing the street, a carriage was rushing nearby. A loud crash was heard, a faint scream, then some hurried footsteps. It was quite a scene. Elizabeth lay there, unconscious, in the middle of four horses that obviously lost balance upon meeting her up the street. The driver of the carriage looked uneasy, and was trying to get to the unconscious. The man inside the carriage remained a passenger, but his face looked annoyed as he stuck it out the window.
"Joseph, place her inside the carriage. We'll heal her wounds till she gets better," the passenger said with a tone so indifferent. The driver followed the man's instructions. The carriage ran off.
Elizabeth opened her eyes for the second time. The air smelled different. She was in a different place, a different room, a different bed. The place she was in right now spelt but one simple word: grand. Drapes of red and gold clothed gigantic windows as luxurious beddings covered her frail body. She tried to move her arm. Ouch, that hurt. A lot, she thought. She rummaged through the layers of cloth to find her hand. Bandaged. She looked at her chest. Bandaged. She felt her head. This one's bandaged, too. What ever happened to her? And where am I? She tried to stand up, but she failed to do so. On a nearby table lay her clothes. She tried to crawl out of bed to reach for them. Thud. Oh, no. She couldn't get up. She was stuck there, half her body on the bed, and half on the floor. She heard the door open.
"Miss, are you quite alright?" a small woman squeaked, as she pulled Elizabeth right back to bed. The small woman clearly was a fille de chambre, who was probably ordered by her master to check on Lizzie. "I see you are better now," she sweetly said.
"Where am I?"
"You are in Darcy mansion. It's in Pemberley, an estate owned by my master, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"Wait. That's like, far from where I'm from. Why am I here?"
"From what I heard, you were run over by my master's coach three days ago. Then they took you here to heal your wounds." The maid opened the drapes, letting in the golden rays of the sun. "It's good to know that you're feeling better now, Madam."
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Bennet."
"Yes, Miss Elizabeth."
"So, you mean I've been asleep for three days now?" Elizabeth was in disbelief. Was she in a horrible dream?
"Yes. If you have been just so sensible as to look at where you're going, you wouldn't be staying here right now," a low voice echoed from behind the door. A man in a handsome black coat entered the room. He stood there with great finesse, his fingers lazily holding a glass of sparkly wine. His eyes were deep and mysterious. He seems horribly familiar to me, Elizabeth thought. He was tall, and his messily groomed hair beautifully complemented his fine-looking face. His nose was perfectly chiseled, and his physique was tall and powerful.
The chambermaid curtsied. "Good morning, Mister Darcy." The man nodded his head. The maid exited.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, stared coldly at his dark eyes. "You weren't so smart either. If you looked at where you were going, you shouldn't have run over me." Darcy's face reddened, relaxed, then indifferently, he said: "You are now residing in my property, and you have no right to converse with me that way."
"Who told you I wanted to be here, anyway?"
"I'm doing this out of justice. If I knew that your attitude was as rotten as what I'm seeing right now, I should have left you lying there on the ground."
"I'm leaving." Elizabeth attempted to stand. She fell flat on her face. Darcy remained standing, looking quite amused. He watched the poor girl cry in pain, desperately trying to reach for her clothes. Darcy finally decided to end her suffering. "Elena!"
The chambermaid rushed to the room, and upon seeing Elizabeth on the floor (again), she immediately approached the lady and helped her up. "Oh, Miss Bennet," the chambermaid said. "You poor, poor thing."
Darcy snorted. He silently walked away.
Two weeks after the atrocious incident, Lizzie finally managed to walk again. Her body was still in pain, but regular meetings with Darcy's doctor gradually took away the excruciation. The doctor advised her not to leave the mansion until she was perfectly well, and so, she had to remain for at least a week more. Darcy was doing his very least to make her stay at the least comfortable, though of course she was given more than enough food, a comfy bed, and all the luxuries the mansion could offer. The two evidently detested each other's presence, and conversations were cut to a maximum of five words per day. Elizabeth still cannot convince her self to thank the man for taking her in, as Darcy couldn't utter a single word of apology for his driver's recklessness. Their relationship was very civil, and they both tried their best to avoid each other during the day.
The two were quietly eating their breakfast one morning when Gerard, Darcy's butler, entered the dining hall. As Elizabeth was sitting at the far end of the table, she had a hard time deciphering what the butler was telling Darcy. After hearing what the butler had to say, Darcy nodded in approval. Gerard left. After a few minutes, he came back, this time, with a man in a dark blue coat. The guy had red hair, a tall, lean body, and a great smile.
Before them stood Charles Bingley.
IV. Infidelities – An unexpected lodger brings out a dark secret.
"Ah, Charles, my good friend! What brings you here on such a fine day?" Darcy stood up and hugged his friend tightly. Bingley returned his friend's hug, then let go. "I'm staying here for a while, if you don't mind. Caroline invited some friends to stay at Netherfield, and I can't stand those girls," Bingley irritatingly replied.
"Of course," Darcy nodded. He then remembered that another person was inside the room. He motioned his hand toward her. "Of course you know Elizabeth Bennet," he told Bingley. Elizabeth curtsied. Bingley simply nodded. "May I know the reason for her stay?" he asked politely. "A horrible accident. Miss Bennet is in my care until she gets better." "Oh," Bingley whispered. "So, Charles, would you like to join us for breakfast?"
Tick. The clock struck seven. How unfortunate can I be? Elizabeth didn't know what to do. She was desperately trying to keep herself together. No doubt about it, she was hopelessly in love with Bingley. She was smitten first by his good manners, and his sentience greatly appealed to her. The man can feel me. His ways were definitely congenial to hers, and by these given reasons, she had come to a conclusion that he was indeed the man for her. But how could this man be mine if he belongs to my dear sibling? The man has found his dulcinea, and it's not you. Though Elizabeth knew that what she felt for Charles was wrong, there was this secret feeling that was still hopeful of a happy ending. In an instant, she remembered the comforting words that her sister gave her weeks ago…
"Just follow your heart, you know. If you think he's the one, fight for him."
Follow my heart. Hmmm…
A soft knock on the door ended her deep musing. "Oh, hi Elena. Come in." Elena, the chambermaid, entered the room. "Miss Bennet, are you not coming down for supper?"
"I don't want to, Elena."
"Why, miss?"
"Because, nothing."
"…"
"Elena, I don't want to eat supper. I'm sorry. Just clean up my plate and go to sleep. You need not worry about me." Elena nodded. She walked toward the huge oak door of the room. With a last curtsy, she exited.
Elizabeth lay awake on her bed. Brrmble. That was her stomach. She needed to at least eat a biscuit. Thinking that everyone was asleep, she put on her robe, and snuck downstairs.
The hallway to the kitchen was dark. A single lamp illuminated the way to the room. Tap tap. Someone was following her. She turned around to see who it was. Nobody. Tap tap tap. Now there really was someone. She decided to ignore the slight sounds. As she was about to turn the knob of the kitchen door, a strong hand covered her mouth. Another hand opened the kitchen door, and she was gently let in the kitchen. The man turned on the lights.
"Charles?"
The man looked at her smilingly, and then folded his hands on his chest. "What are you doing here, Elizabeth?"
"I was hungry so I decided to look for some food." Her cheeks blushed furiously. Bingley laughed. "Why didn't you go down for supper?"
"I was…"
"Are you avoiding me, for any reason?" the man jokingly said.
"I… I, yes. I'm sorry Charles."
"Oh."
"…"
"I understand you, Lizzie. But please, do not avoid me. I love you, you know."
"Pardon, Mr. Bingley?"
Bingley smiled.
"Mr. Bingley, if you are, by any chance, playing with my feelings, I beg of you to stop it. You know of my heart's poor condition."
"No, but it's true, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth stated to walk away from the scene. Bingley ran after her. He pleaded her to stop.
"Elizabeth, you never fail to charm me, you know that!"
The woman let out a puff of air. "Mister Bingley, I am not the seductress that you are giving me the impression that I am! Yes, I admit it, I am very, no, MADLY in love with you—but you have my sister Jane, now. So, get off my back, I don't want to hurt anybody. Not you, not my sister, and especially not myself! So please," there were tears in her eyes now. "Just go away." Bingley moved forward. "Go away!" Elizabeth repeated.
"I won't."
The woman stared at her darkly.
"I won't leave you."
More staring.
"You have bewitched me, Elizabeth Bennet. It's not anybody's fault, now. I'm in love with you." Elizabeth jaw dropped. She looked hopelessly at Bingley. Things were becoming very complicated now.
"You love Jane?"
"Yes."
Then how can this be? "Then you're kidding me."
"No."
"Explain yourself."
"I love your sister. That would continue to be true until the end of time. But I love you, too. I love you like I love your sister. There's something about you that makes me feel genuinely different."
Elizabeth continued to listen.
"I know it's confusing, but please, let me love you." Bingley walked towards her and placed his hands on her face. "Elizabeth Bennet, you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met in my entire life." He bent his head toward her and kissed her passionately in the middle of the dark, deserted hallway.
V. Pemberley – A shocking visit surprises Elizabeth on her birthday.
"So, Mr. Bingley, tell me, why did you decide to stay here at Pemberley again?" Elizabeth threw him a sly look as she threw a rock against the gentle waters of the lake. Mr. Darcy Senior had done a wonderful job in sculpting this place to what it is right now, in her opinion. The evergreens were greener than all the rest of the evergreens put together, and the landscaping was just superb. She then sat on a nearby rock.
Bingley laughed gently and faced Elizabeth. "It's Caroline, like I told Darcy earlier. She threw this many-dayed overnight party at our place. You know how she is—always desperate to make acquaintances and the like. Being the only man in the house, I won't be able to stand all those ladies, squealing and laughing of nonsensicality all the time. So I decided to stay here. I wasn't expecting you at all, though."
"How is my sister? You left her alone there?"
"Oh, I'm sure she's having lots of fun with Caroline and the other girls."
"How long have you known Mister Darcy?"
"We have been the best of friends since childhood, why ask?"
"Nothing. It's just seems really odd that you two, though the very best of friends, possess very different personalities. Mr. Darcy is quiet and sometimes, forgive me, rude. You, on the other hand, are very agreeable and well-mannered."
"You make my head blow up, Lizzie," Mr. Bingley laughingly commented.
"No, but it's true!" the girl protested.
"Then you must know little about my friend. He has been most faithful and supportive of me. I will never find a friend as good as him in the entire world."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"He's a brother to me."
"Then I extol you for bearing with him despite your contrastive attitudes," the girl bowed.
"I must return that compliment then, for you and your sister Jane have very different personalities as well," Bingley joked.
Elizabeth fell silent. "What's the matter, Lizzie?"
"I'm just really confused, Charles. Jane and I are sharing this love from you and in the end, one of us will surely get hurt. Who will it be, then? I just don't think it's mortally possible for a man to equally love two women at the same time."
Silence from Bingley.
"I mean, it's just so… I don't know. You've got to love one of us more… And I'm not sure if this would work, you know. Me knowing that I'm not the only one you love doesn't make me feel good at all. And me knowing that it's my sister, Jane, whom I'm hurting here pains me more. Maybe we should stop this." She threw another stone against the waters and watched it bounce and bounce until it sank. Her eyes were looking far… far from what she was seeing then. All horrible might-be results of what she was doing flashed before her eyes. Jane crying… and hating her. Bingley leaving her for Jane. Everybody thinking she's a desperate man-stealing whore. No, I don't want that to happen. But everything there is possible. I seriously don't want that to happen.
"Lizzie."
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear what her companion was telling her. "Ah yes, Mr. Bingley, what were you saying?"
"I said that I won't give you up. What will happen will happen, Lizzie. And that, we know not yet. All I know is that I have this deep feeling for you, and I can't help it. I don't know what I'd do without you, and Jane has been a most wonderful woman." Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know, Mr. Bingley, this seems impossible." The man kissed her on the forehead. "Nothing is impossible, Lizzie. Especially with love."
The next day Elizabeth woke up with more pleasure than usual. Her day started with a soft knock on the door. Elena, the maid, walked in, an envelope in her hands. "A letter for you, Miss Bennet."
"Thank you, Elena." Elizabeth sat up on her bed and took the letter from Elena's grip. It read:
My dearest Elizabeth,
Happy birthday! Meet me in the dining room now.
Yours, ETC.
The brunette Bennet smiled heartily. She put on her robe and rushed downstairs.
When she finally reached the dining hall, she found it empty. A joke. Hah, she thought. She looked around the room. No sign of a living person. Eventually, her eyes rested on a big bouquet of the reddest roses placed on one end of the long dining table. She walked slowly towards it. The roses were very beautiful indeed. The finest she had ever seen in her life. She held it to her nose. And they smell darn good, too. How much sweeter can the giver be! She hugged and felt and played with the roses for minutes until she felt a presence behind her. She just knew it was him. Oh, how am I going to thank him? She finally figured that a kiss would do them both good. Oh, but a hug first would be better, she decided. When she finally made up her mind on how she was going to welcome her beloved gift-giver, she then spun around, and hugged the person tight.
"Oh thank you, thank you so much for remembering my birthday! I love you, my dear."
"Well of course, how could I forget? I love you too, Elizabeth."
Wait. That didn't sound right. "Who are—?" The Bennet pulled away from the intimate hug.
"Happy birthday again, Lizzie. I surprised you, didn't I?"
Elizabeth's eyes went wide in shock. It was Jane.
VI. Elizabeth's Birthday – How will Bingley and Elizabeth hide from Jane?
"Why do you look at me like so, dear Elizabeth?" Jane inquired anxiously. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" The older Bennet laughed gently.
The younger flashed a fake smile. "It's because… because, you surprised me so, dear Jane! You didn't even tell me that you were coming."
"That's why it's called a surprise, dunderhead."
"I never thought you'd call me that, Jane!" Lizzie poked her sister jokingly.
"I was kidding," the sister placed her hands on her hips. "Let's steer away from that topic. First, can you tell me why you are here?" She rolled her eyes mischievously.
"I was run over by Mr. Darcy's carriage a few weeks ago.
"Mister Darcy's carriage—you were—what? Oh that—I really must talk to him!"
Elizabeth pulled her sister's sleeve. "No."
"Why not? He hurt you."
"But he nursed me back to health. But I must say, he has quite an attitude. But he nursed me back to health. So there's no point in arguing." Elizabeth didn't know what she was saying, but her heart and mind were sure that she detested the man. However there was this feeling inside of her that made her not hate Darcy to death. Maybe it was gratitude. Maybe it was guilt. She didn't know.
Jane patted her on the shoulder. "You're a good person, Lizzie. I think you're the only person who'll never pick a fight with other people. I don't even think you'd hurt people yourself." Suddenly a cold guilt sensation slithered along Elizabeth's nape. She thinks I'm good. Little does she know… An oh-my-gosh-what-am-I-doing feeling rushed through her veins. She loved her sister. And she was taking her beloved away from her. "Hey Lizzie, do you mind if a leave you first? I'm out to find Charles." Her sister winked. Elizabeth slightly nodded in agreement.
Elizabeth started to walk back to her room. She wasn't dressed yet. As she made her way out of the dining hall, she came across a pair of dark, mysterious eyes. The pair stared straight into hers, and after a while she found herself lost in his two pools. She tried to walk again but… BUMP! Then a crash. Oh no. Turned out that when she tried to move her two feet, a maid opened the door, which apparently she was leaning on, she fell towards Mister Darcy, her bouquet of roses went flying across the air and on the floor and was scattered everywhere, and now, she was lying on her chest on top of Darcy. Why is it that everytime we meet up, there'd always be a crash or an almost unconscious casualty? But it seemed like the world stopped for the two of them. Time moved slowly. She looked into his eyes again. He stared at hers. She looked surprised. He was annoyed. She got up.
"You know nothing but bring mischance to other people," he said vexedly as he brushed dirt off his sleeve, and with one last angry look at Elizabeth (which Elizabeth gladly returned), he walked away. Hell good way to start my day, she thought.
Breakfast was worse. The party went on with their consumption of porridge as mutely as possible. The only lively soul in the room was Jane, who kept on rambling about how things were at Netherfield Park and how Ms. Turner, a well-known glutton and one of the invited gentlewomen, managed to sneak into the house a sack of cream tarts which were recommended by her doctor for her to not take. "I mean, how can she be healed of her gluttony if she does not follow what is recommended of her? Right, Lizzie?" Elizabeth looked at her sister. "Yes," was all she could say. Jane was not satisfied with her sister's reply. Very civilly, she asked Mr. Darcy the same question. "Do you think not, Mr. Darcy?" She still would not let go of the fact that the man who owned the estate she was standing on right now had to do with the injury of her sister. Jane loved Elizabeth a great deal, and she'd stand up to anyone who'd get in her sister's way.
"I think that taking in a generous amount of food is forgivable but gluttony, a sin. However I also think that Ms. Turner's case is inescapable, given that she continuously fails to control her diet."
"Thank you, Mister Darcy." The man only gave a slight nod in return. Jane was starting to feel the tension in the air. She found the silence peculiar, but she dared not ask for the reason. Instead, she tried again to set out a conversation between the people in the room. This time she turned to her sister, Elizabeth.
"Lizzy, dare I ask, have these two gentlemen greeted you?"
"Dear Jane, please do not try to insinuate in the conversation—"
"But Lizzie, they certainly must know—"
"I beg of you, Jane, I should live without denoting—"
Surprisingly, Darcy, the very quiet and indifferent Darcy, was the one who inquired of the warming conversation's object. Jane at once replied that it was her sister's birthday. Darcy gave out an unaffectionate grunt in return. "Are you not going to greet him, Mr. Darcy?"
Mister Bingley, as though he was the man Darcy, was the one who performed the desired act. "Happy Birthday, Eliza. I wish you all the love in the world." Bingley looked at her with all fondness. Jane failed to realize that beyond that look was the desire of seeing her sister after breakfast and presenting her with the most wonderful gift a man could offer. The older Bennet was too blinded by her love for her sister and her fiancé to see the deceit that they were playing behind her back. Elizabeth again felt guilt prick her nape as her sister smiled euphorically at her.
Jane's hatred towards Darcy came out as ferociously as ever. She was able to restore her calm progressively and then she said to Bingley: "Charles, my love, do tell your friend to bring out his hidden evil when no one is around. He will shame himself if he is not careful." Bingley only looked at Darcy. The latter stood up from where he was seated. "I am awfully sorry," he went, "but more shame I will bring unto myself if I continue to be better than civil to ungrateful, unthinking people like her. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go write some letters." He walked out graciously. Jane looked furious. Elizabeth was simply red all over.
"This is, by far, the worst birthday I have ever had." Elizabeth said to Bingley as they picked berries from Pemberley field that day. She picked a blueberry from its bush and placed it in her basket. "You'll find your light, Lizzie," Bingley said as he picked some fine berries himself. Lizzie faced the man. "I am so glad to have found some talk time with you now that Jane's around." "We just have to meet at the right times. Like, when she's asleep or something—as what she's doing right now." Elizabeth smiled. "You never fail to make me feel better, Charles." Bingley only looked at her.
"Elizabeth, look inside your basket."
The girl, following the sweet order, reached inside her basket. There, she found a velvety case covered in fruity blueberry juice. "What a sweet presentation. It'll soon delight the roaming ants, I believe," Elizabeth smartly inferred. She opened the case. "Oh my goodness. Charles, it's beautiful!" Inside was a silver locket, designed with such intricate and elegant carvings and sparkling crystals. A soft letter "E" was engraved on the front part of the locket, and inside was a small note from Bingley to herself. Defying the laws of love were the words. "I love you Elizabeth. And if I have to withstand all the set rules of the word, I will for you."
Elizabeth laughed femininely. "You are the cheesiest man in the world, Charles Bingley." Bingley offered to place the locket 'round her neck. As he was putting it on, he noticed something. "Lizzie, there's a pendant around your neck." "Oh," Elizabeth reacted. She removed the pendant that she wore first a month ago. Now, the locket Bingley gave her fit securely around her porcelain neck. She shoved the removed pendant into the blueberry case. Deal almost let go. Good thing it hasn't melted yet.
VII. Wedding Preparations – The upcoming wedding stirs confusion.
A soft knock on the door awakens Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, supper." Elena the chambermaid entered the room. "What's for dinner?" "Lamb chops, I believe. Mister Darcy has taken a fancy out of them since the engagement party of Miss Bennet and Mister Bingley." "Oh. I see. I shall be going down in a minute then," the Bennet replied.
Elizabeth rose from her bed. In her head, the complications she was thinking of before started to escape her. I am following my heart. What ever could be wrong with that? Something was telling her that what she was doing was right and if it's right, then nothing should stop her from doing it. She stared at a case resting on her bedside table. A gold oblong-shaped pendant sat on a blue, velvety box. She held it in her hands. I still love you, Jane. She placed it inside the box again. But I love Bingley, too. She closed the box, holding a promise prisoner of her own desires.
Dinner was quiet still. The only improvement was that Mister Bingley spoke more than a while ago. The reason probably was that he was well over the shock that was caused by Jane's sudden visit. The latter was still talkative, but not as desperate as breakfast, for she has already adapted to the silence that is meal time. Her topics were not as nonsensical as earlier. However, as Darcy was having his joy in not hearing Jane speak about utter randomness, Elizabeth was having her share of acute heartaches and uneasiness as her sister spoke. The reason for that was that Jane now was asking Bingley if he had already talked to the bishop who was going to wed them. The question led to other topics regarding the wedding, and Bingley's answers were far from what Jane expected. The man was starting to get confused about everything, and he wanted to temporarily end the conversation. He looked pleadingly at Lizzie, who was sitting two chairs from him, as if asking her to distract Jane. The girl got what he was saying, and turned her head towards Jane. "Jane." "Yes, Lizzie?" "I composed a song yesterday. Do you want to hear it?" "Sure, Lizzie."
As Elizabeth was well done with her supper, she stood up with a polite "Excuse me" and slowly walked towards the pianoforte. With nothing in mind and obviously no song composed, she sat nervously in front of the piano. This better come out good. Help me, God. She started experimenting with a few notes. After what was supposedly her intro, she started singing a few made-up lines.
♫ I looked out the window
And saw you pass by my apartment
You were with her
I looked out the window
And I started hoping
I am a dreamer
Yesterday you told me dear that your love for me was true
But what chance'll I take I far by know that what I wanted to find was you
Your island girl she knows not of the feelings that we share
She hides behind her devil's lair too blind to see I care…
She paused. The three people in the room with her displayed very different reactions. Bingley looked shocked (and scared). He could feel that the song spoke much of their ongoing affair and he was scared that Jane may find out everything. Jane's reaction was the opposite. Her face looked relaxed and appreciative of Elizabeth's composition. Her eyes spelled out the wonder that was caused by the song—as if she wanted to know the true meaning of every word of each line. Darcy reaction, however, was scary. He looked like he was studying everyone's faces. He could be trouble, Elizabeth thought. Then she continued her song.
♫ Oooohhhh…
I've been forever dreaming of this world that's all our own
With no rules to control us, but our feelings alone
People say the right things that we should be doing
But what's love's real meaning?...
She ended. Jane clapped, her eyes moist. She went towards Elizabeth, who still can't get over what she just did. Her sister hugged her. "Lizzie, that song was beautiful! I bet it took you some inspiration!" "Yes, I think. Maybe." Jane, who was very much taken by Elizabeth's impromptu song, completely forgot about the discussion on the wedding. Elizabeth looked again at Bingley. He looked amused. She shifted her view to Darcy. Those observing eyes better stop, she thought.
Dinner was over. The party left the dining hall and proceeded to their rooms.
She couldn't sleep that night. The air was cold and she felt as if it was haunting her senses. She wasn't at peace. Convinced that she wouldn't be able to go to sleep 'till she let her feelings out, she reached for a nearby gas lamp, and walked out of her room. The hallway was still dark, and the dim light of the lamp helped little in giving light to her path. She knew where she was going. A right turn, a left, a straight. She rested her eyes on a door just at the end of the hallway. She walked with cat feet towards the door. She needed to talk…
"Looking for me, Elizabeth?"
She turned around. "Charles!" She hugged him tight, as if it was the last hug she was going to give him. "I couldn't sleep."
"Me too."
"Oh."
"Listen Lizzie, I think we have to…" "I have something to tell you…" The two blurted out at the same time.
"Okay, you first," the gentleman offered.
"I… I've been thinking. I've been considering everything you told me this afternoon while we were picking berries. You know, defying the laws of love. I think… I seriously think we should give it a shot."
"Oh."
"Don't you like it, Charles? I love you, you know that. And I won't ever let you go. To hell with Jane, to hell with everybody! I am gonna fight for what we have, and I won't let anyone get in the way. Not even my sister." Elizabeth, at this moment, thought of no one but Bingley and herself. "I won't let you go…" She raised her heels and made her lips touch his. "You love me, don't you?"
Bingley wrapped his arms around her. "I do. I love you." He was surprised with what came out of Elizabeth that night. His unfinished statement was forgotten. He continued to kiss her passionately. What he wanted to say was the total opposite of what Elizabeth told him. He placed his hands on her gentle cheeks. He was totally screwed. She hugged him again. A soft bump was heard from the near end of the hall. The two stopped. They stood frozen.
A man with deep, dark, mysterious eyes watched them attentively behind a wall.
VIII. Stuff – Little by little, a dark secret gets unveiled…
No sound followed after the little noise heard by the two last night. They settled with the idea that it was a force of nature—a stray cat or a mouse or the wind, perhaps. Inside a person's heart, the situation must be like this: you know, when fear is stimulated by a source a person fails to identify, it would then be likely for him to assume that a perfectly untroubling, logical explanation possibly would be able to answer the question. It's like how we face the supernatural—we combat them with presumptions of hallucinations, mental disability or physical impairment. Elizabeth, being the cool, logical girl that she was did not think like so, for intelligence requires more than just the usual, predictable reaction. It entails something more. Curiosity, inquisitiveness. That's what it needs.
The dear miss, who celebrated her birthday yesterday, had a hard time getting up that morning. She felt herself unusually heavy. She absolutely did not like what she felt—a mixture of unknown disability and feverish chills. Great, fever. A knock on the door.
"Hello, Elizabeth dear." Jane entered the room, looking quite fine in a beautiful, exquisite white dress which accentuated her small, tight waist. "Like it? Robert the tailor's here to fit me my wedding dress. You like it?"
"Yes, it's perfect for you."
"Charles also thought that," Jane smiled peacefully. "Oh Lizzie, I'm so excited. I'm getting married in a week and everything seems so… grand." Lizzie looked really depressed now. "What's the matter, Lizzie?"
"I… I have t-to…" Darkness fell and everything just seemed to fall out of place. Distance cries were heard. A scream. Some hurried footsteps. A cry. Nothingness.