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."
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Well, so far, so good (I hope!). Please review, and tell me what you think; any ideas, complaints, or compliments are welcome. Please Review, and thanks for reading this, even if you don't review, I hope you liked it!
~Kit ;)
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"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."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, so far, so good (I hope!). Please review, and tell me what you think; any ideas, complaints, or compliments are welcome. Please Review, and thanks for reading this, even if you don't review, I hope you liked it!
~Kit ;)