Jealous

*- These characters belong to Miss Austen. I am simply a humble admirer.

*-Based on the relationship between David Morrisey and Charity Wakefield in the 2008 Sense and Sensibility.

Jealous

It was a beautiful day as Marianne stepped into the garden to cut the flowers. The roses had begun to bloom into a pretty shade of blush.

As she finished her task, she could feel a set of male arms wrapping themselves around her.

Christopher had traveled to town for Navy business; he had left early yesterday morning and was expected to return in time for dinner tonight. He had proposed a holiday to Brighton next month, Marianne had promised to consider the idea while he was away.

“Darling you’re back early”

“Mhmm” came the response as he buried his face into her blonde curls.

“I think you are right, a holiday to Brighton would be a good thing. The children are eager for the sea, as am I. Perhaps mama could join us, she had been altered since Margaret married…”.

“Why don’t we leave your mother and the children at home, we can holiday just you and I?” Marianne knew then that the man behind her was not her husband.

“Willoughy!” Marianne exclaimed as Christopher raced toward her with two burly stable boys behind him. The stable boys held Willoughby back as Christopher fought to contain his anger.

“You, sir, will stay away from my wife and remove yourself from my land; otherwise I will set the law on you”.

“Are you hurt?” Christopher inquired, searching his wife for any injuries.

“No, I am uninjured”.

“Marianne, please, I love you, I’ve always loved you” Willoughby begged as he was dragged away.

Before he was forced back to where his horse was tethered, Marianne walked up to Willoughby, looking him straight in the eye.

“I am not the girl you once knew. You have made your choices and I have made mine. I suggest, sir that you forget about me and return to your wife. Good day, Mr. Willoughby”.

Though Willoughby had been forced out hours before, Christopher could not get the image of his wife and Mr. Willoughby out of his mind.

Mr. Willoughby and Marianne were of a similar age and temperament. Christopher was her second choice, she might still love him, a jealous voice inside of him reminded him.

“Darling, you were quiet during dinner. You mustn’t be jealous of Mr. Willoughby” Marianne sometimes thought back to those days, how blind she had been.

“He is handsome and charming….”.

Marianne put down her hair brush and settled herself comfortably on her husbands lap.

“Handsome and charming he may be, but Mr. Willoughby is also inconstant, thinking of his own desires before any one else’s. While you, my darling husband, are also handsome and charming, you are also constant, giving and one of the best man I know. You have made me a happy woman these past ten years and I wouldn’t have it any other way” She kissed him lightly on the lips, wishing to eradicate his anxieties for good.

They made love slowly that night, relishing their time together and forgetting the past.

The next morning, their children descended into the bedroom, eager to start a new day. Mr. Willoughby was no more.

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Dissapear

*-Of course I do not own either Jane Eyre or this fabulous song. I’m just borrowing both.

 *-Disappear By Hoobastank.

 *-Reviews are always welcome

 Disappear

he entered the room meekly, pointing Adele to the direction of his guests.

 He had watched her closely since their first encounter on the road.  This was not the first time he was in love, but this girl was different.  He knew it was wrong, that he would hurt her in the end. But he had to know if she felt the same way.

 There’s a pain that sleeps inside
It sleeps with just one eye

Despite his wealth and his status, Edward Fairfax Rochester was lonely. The heartache of the betrayal of his father and brother still stung as if was yesterday and not fifteen years ago.

 And awakens the moment that you leave

 She seemed to understand his pain, to sooth the demons that continued to plague him.

Though I try to look away

 He told himself to find a woman who suited his status, a woman like Blanche Igram.

The pain it still remains
Only leaving when you’re next to me

Do you know, that every time you’re near
Everybody else seems far away

 But no matter how he told himself to look away, to find a woman of his status, his heart returned to the one female he knew he could not have. Externally, Blanche Ingram was everything he should seek in a wife. But he knew she was cold and was only seeking him for his money and his status, a concept which he detested.

So can you come and make them disappear
Make them disappear and we can stay

So I stand and look around
Distracted by the sounds

The room was full, but he saw no one except her. She left the party as quietly as she entered, his footsteps echoing her own. Even in the darkness, he could see her pain, Lady Ingram’s remarks had hit their target.

  “How do you do?” he asked.

 “I am very well, sir.”

 “Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?”

 I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I would not take that freedom. I answered —

 “I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir.”

 “What have you been doing during my absence?”

 “Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual.”

 “And getting a good deal paler than you were — as I saw at first sight. What is the matter?”

 “Nothing at all, sir.”

 “Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?”

 “Not the least.”

 “Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early.”

 “I am tired, sir.”

 He looked at her for a minute.

 “And a little depressed,” he said. “What about? Tell me.”

 “Nothing — nothing, sir. I am not depressed.”

 “But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would bring tears to your eyes — indeed, they are there now, shining and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, to-night I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don’t neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my — “He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left her.

 Of everyone and everything I see
And I search through every face
Without a single trace, of the person
The person that I need

She started to walk to her room and was surprised when instead of returning to the party, he followed her.

 “Mr. Rochester?” She asked, not expecting him to follow her.

 “Jane, I…” he stopped suddenly not knowing what to say.

 “Your company sir” she reminded him.

 “Do you think I give a whit about them, Jane?”.

 “I wouldn’t know, sir, I have never had any reason to have guests over”.

 He half smiled, that was his faerie, always to the point.

 “Edward…” Blanche Ingram’s voice drifted upstairs.

 “You should return to your guests and your bride sir”.

 “I am looking at her” he replied with a frankness that even surprised him.

 “Sir?”.

 “I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you–especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you–you’d forget me”.

 “Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal — as we are!”

 She suddenly burst out, a show of emotion he had not seen before and he knew that for certain that his love was not one sided.

Do you know, that every time you’re near
Everybody else seems far away
So can you come and make them disappear
Make them disappear and we can stay

Edward Fairfax Rochester was not a passionate man, at least to the casual observer.  But few knew the man under the cold, polite façade and that moment, he cared not for what others thought of him, only of the faerie who stood before him. He did the one thing he knew would shock them all and he didn’t care. He kissed her.

Can you make them disappear?
Make them disappear

 To his delight, she responded to his kiss with a warmth not even he had anticipated.

 “Let’s get married tonight, no one else will know”.

 “It is late sir; I doubt the vicar would be awake”

 That was his Jane, always thinking logically.

 “Then tomorrow”.

“Yes” she agreed.

 There’s a pain that sleeps inside
Sleeps with just one eye
And awakens, the moment that you leave
And I search through every face
Without a single trace, of the person
The person that I need

 He forgot everything that moment, the only thing that mattered was that he had found his true match.

Do you know, that every time you’re near
Everybody else seems far away
So can you come and make them disappear
Make them disappear and we can stay

 Then the image dissipated. He watched her walk up the stairs to her room and hearing the voices of his guests, despite his heart, returned to his company.

Discovery

Of course, these characters are not mine, however, that does not mean I don’t appreciate reviews.

 Discovery

 The plan had been simple. The maid was easily startled and Thornfield seemed right of a gothic novel with its dark and mysterious corridors. It didn’t make much for Blanche to convince the girl to create the diversion. She knew where his room was, it would only take correct timing to ensure that her place as Mrs. Rochester would never be doubted.

 The maid screamed and as expected, all ran out of their room and Blanche came out of the nook leading to his room and joined the hysteria.

“Where the devil is Rochester?” cried Colonel Dent. “I can not find him in his bed.”

“Here! here!” was shouted in return. “Be composed, all of you: I’m coming.”

And the door at the end of the gallery opened, and Mr. Rochester advanced with a candle: he had just descended from the upper story. One of the ladies ran to him directly; she seized his arm: it was Miss Ingram.

“What awful event has taken place?” said she. “Speak! let us know the worst at once!”

“But don’t pull me down or strangle me,” he replied: for the Misses Eshton were clinging about him now; and the two dowagers, in vast white wrappers, were bearing down on him like ships in full sail.

“All’s right!—all’s right!” he cried. “It’s a mere rehearsal of “Much Ado about Nothing.” Ladies, keep off, or I shall wax dangerous.”

And dangerous he looked: his black eyes darted sparks. Calming himself by an effort, he added, “A servant has had the nightmare; that is all. She’s an excitable, nervous person: she construed her dream into an apparition, or something of that sort, no doubt; and has taken a fit with fright. Now, then, I must see you all back into your rooms; for, till the house is settled, she can not be looked after. Gentlemen, have the goodness to set the ladies the example. Miss Ingram, I am sure you will not fail in evincing superiority to idle terrors. Amy and Louisa, return to your nests like a pair of doves, as you are. Mesdames” (to the dowagers) “you will take cold, to a dead certainty, if you stay in this chill gallery any longer.”

What Blanche was unaware of is that Edward Rochester had other matrimonial plans; his plans included a young woman few in the party truly saw.

Some two months later, the summer sun started to disappear into the hills; Edward Rochester made his passionate declaration, of which the results were surprising even to him.

 “Come to my side Jane, and let us explain and understand one another.”

“I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and can not return.”

“But, Jane, I summon you as my wife: it is you only I intend to marry.”

I was silent: I thought he mocked me.

“Come, Jane—come hither.”

“Your bride stands between us.”

He rose, and with a stride reached me.

“My bride is here,” he said, again drawing me to him, “because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?”

Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his grasp: for I was still incredulous.

“Do you doubt me, Jane?”

“Entirely.”

“You have no faith in me?”

“Not a whit.”

“Am I a liar in your eyes?” he asked passionately. “Little skeptic, you shall be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to prove; I caused a rumor to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed, and after that I presented myself to see the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not—I could not—marry Miss Ingram. You—you strange—you almost unearthly thing!—I love as my own flesh. You—poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are—I entreat to accept me as a husband.”

“What, me?” I ejaculated: beginning in his earnestness—and especially in his incivility—to credit his sincerity: “me who have not a friend in the world but you—if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have given me?”

“You, Jane. I must have you for my own—entirely my own. Will you be mine? Say yes, quickly.”

“I cannot”.

“Tell me why not”.

“I saw Miss Ingram come out of your room the night Mr. Mason was injured”.

He saw the tears in her eyes; how his actions had hurt the one woman he loved most in the world.

“Jane, come here, please allow me to explain” he held out his hand to her.

“I cannot”

“Jane, come back”.

“I am sorry, Mr. Rochester, but I will not” he watched her back disappear as she ran back inside the hall.

For the next few weeks, she avoided him and took her meals with Adele and Mrs. Fairfax.

“Mrs. Fairfax, where has Miss Eyre gone to?”  Edward asked, she had not been seen since midday.

“I do not know, sir”.

“Is she in her room?’.

“I do not know” the housekeeper replied.

He walked towards her room and knocked on the door, she did not answer.

“I believe I saw Miss Eyre walking to Hay, she mentioned something of a letter that was waiting for her” Leah informed him.

“Tell John to saddle my horse”.

“As you wish, sir” Leah turned around to find John.

He found her on the lane returning from Hay.

“Why did you go alone, Janet?” he asked.

“I had a letter waiting for me”.

“You should have told me where you going, I would have at least send the carriage to take you”.

“The walk was reasonable; there was no need of taking the carriage”.

“Will you at least ride back with me?”.

“I can walk”.

“If that is what you wish, I will walk with you” he got off his horse and began to walk with her.

They walked for nearly 30 minutes in silence.

“You must know, Janet, I meant what I said. My heart, as well everything I own, is yours, if you will have me”.

“You know I cannot. In fact, I will be leaving”.

“Janet, you cannot be serious”.

“I am perfectly serious; my uncle has written to me, he is on death bed”.

“Where is this uncle of yours, you have never mentioned him before”.

“I only learned of him when I went to visit Aunt Reed, he had been searching for me while I was still at Lowood”.

“You would leave me, Jane, forever” Edward balked.

“You are a married man; I will not be your mistress”.

“I care nothing for Miss Ingram”.

“I am referring to your living wife, if I do not say goodbye now, I shall never say goodbye”.

“What wife? Have you heard speak of a wife? I have no wife, save for you, if you will only tell me that you will marry me”.

“You know I cannot”.

“Janet…” again he watched her enter Thornfield and go up the stairs toward her room.

Two days later, the carriage disappeared into Hay and away from Thornfield, the letter from her uncle, John Eyre in her bag.

“My dearest niece,

I must apologize for not being able to locate you sooner, as I was unaware of the fabrication of Mrs. Reed.

I feel I must explain my actions. Your late father and I did not get along as we should have as boys and quarreled often. One quarrel led our separation, which I now regret. My physician says that I am on my deathbed, which has led me to locate you. I am unmarried and without children and I wish to leave you all of my worldly possessions.

I have heard through channels that you are currently employed by Edward Rochester of Thornfield Hall, whose reputation precedes him. I warn you Jane, keep your guard around him, for he is not what he seems. If he should propose marriage, I warn to decline, my contacts warn me that he has a wife living, though she is mad.

Please come dearest Jane, so I may see you with my own eyes and make amends for my past.

Yours, etc

John Eyre”

The next day, she was met by her uncle’s manservant at the dock in Portsmith, where a ship would take her to Madeira, where her new life would begin.

He would never know her tears, or the heartbreak of the lies he had created. But no matter how many years she lived or if she had the opportunity to marry for true affection, Edward Fairfax Rochester would forever live in her heart.