A Different Storybook Ending
That which is unexpected is perhaps sometimes best experienced.The news had circulated with stunning speed and swift clarity that Netherfield was let at last to a man named Mr. Darcy. He was, by the rumours, keeping it for his friend who would not leave town at the precise moment and would be remaining there within its halls until the good Mr. Bingley arrived. With
“Please, Papa,” Kitty had been pleading for days, yet. Without
Mr. Bennet had, with the aid of his wife, consented to introducing himself to this Mr. Darcy so that the girls could properly meet him at the ball, set to be held in Meryton.
The squeal of happiness that Kitty did let out was heard all through Longbourn, it was so prevalent. And yet, it made Jane smile complacently to hear her sister so very content. She dashed off with the urgent need to find herself ribbons and proper shoes and poor Mary was dragged along with her.
“Jane,” Mrs. Bennet insisted. “My dearest Jane. He has ten thousand a year. You must be your most handsome for the ball and see to it that you glow as you never have before.”
“Careful, my dear,” Mr. Bennet noted wryly, face hidden by a letter from town. “If she overly glows, she will blind Mr. Darcy and then his ten thousand a year shall be put to allowing him sight once more.” Such words did not discourage Mrs. Bennet, however, as she did whisk Jane away with great alacrity, poor Jane looking over her shoulder at her Papa with great surprise and a look of quiet protest upon her face.
Mr. Bennet continued, simply, to read his novels.
Mrs. Bennet hurried Jane along the stairs, in a hurry to find her proper ribbons and a dress that would compliment her skin and every other word she did pinch Jane’s cheeks to contribute colour. “Jane,” Mrs. Bennet said at her very most serious. “You must take great pains to enchant Mr. Darcy with your beauty, which should be no difficult task, and you must be charming and good. Oh! But what am I saying? You are my very best girl, Jane, my good girl.”
Jane listened to every word and endured Kitty’s excited tossing of ribbons over her hair and even sat with Mary to practice a piece as her accompaniment. Though Jane could not boast the singing voice of
“Jane,” Mrs. Bennet whispered as they passed through the door. “You are absolutely radiant. “Mrs. Lucas will have no such luck in trying to pair her Charlotte up with dear Mr. Darcy, not when you are the most beautiful in the entire county!”
“Mama,” Jane softly protested, hanging her head in quiet shame and embarrassment. She gave a nod to her Mama as she parted ways to find Charlotte in the crowd, glad for a familiar face and though she was far better a friend to Elizabeth, Jane found her perfectly lovely and in return, Charlotte enjoyed Jane’s company. It was, after all, very difficult to find Jane anything but pleasant.
They made their way to a safe bastion at the edge of the ball as
“If my dear Mama has her way, he shall not be shy,” Jane said, watching the door anxiously, “but rather overwhelmed. She does intend for me to dance with him, but I shall not think so much of myself to believe that will happen.”
Though
*
“Mary,” Kitty hissed in whispered excitement, tugging on her nightgowns as the candles flickered and gave them only the smallest of light to see with. “Mary, wake up! I must tell you about Mr. Darcy.”
“I want to sleep,” Mary pleaded, head pressed firmly to the pillow. “And Mama has already told it twice.”
Kitty groaned and flopped over on the bed with an irritable sigh. This would not be if Lydia were still about and she could tell her of the way that Jane and Mr. Darcy had danced three times, though he had insisted he did not want to dance and had only buckled when Jane had begun speaking to him of books. And then, at the end of the night, there had even been a glimpse of a smile upon his face! It was so utterly romantic, as though melting ice and discovering a true prince! Though they had only really had one dance before he had found his way into a deep and dark corner like some sort of creature, Kitty already knew that the grounds had been set and it was impossible to not love Jane, for her beauty or her grace or her demeanour. “Mary!” Kitty hissed.
“I am sleeping,” Mary announced in a deep, serious tone. “And I cannot speak when I am sleeping.”
Such words sent Kitty into a sulk, so she resolved to tell the story to her dolls come the morning.
*
Over the many weeks that passed, Mr. Darcy came to call upon Miss Bennet with regularity, though not a dinner was had nor was any hint of a ball made. Rather, Mr. Darcy invited Jane upon many a walk through the nearby estate that belonged to his dear friend Mr. Bingley. “If you would permit my saying,” Darcy spoke, his normally stoic expression faltering mildly in the topic of Bingley, “but you remind me very much of him in countenance and demeanour.”
“I should be glad to remind you of a friend,” Jane said, kindly. “For I would greatly hate to remind you of an enemy.”
That earned the rarest of treasures and a sight that rendered Jane breathless, for as they walked, she did see the barest glimmer of a genuine smile from Mr. Darcy as he took her hand to aid her over a muddy patch (so as to not stain the hem of her dress). She would not have minded, for she did not have the presence of mind to believe that she was above a spot of dirt here or there. And yet, within her gloved hand, his fingers felt warmer than she had ever experienced before and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, the colour of rare roses in lush gardens.
They spent the remainder of the walk in silence, but Mr. Darcy did not return Jane home until she had accepted an invitation to dine with both himself and with Georgiana, who was to visit Netherfield and spend time with her dear brother.
Jane was most happy to accept and for the first time, allowed a genuine smile to appear on her face, the curves of her lips turning upwards without pause and in the light of the sun, it did almost seem as though she were as radiant as any angel.
*
It seemed a rush of activity, for Mr. Darcy had been to ask Mr. Bennet his permission for Jane’s hand and Mrs. Bennet had yet to stop crowing loudly of such a thing, that the family was saved and Lydia and Elizabeth must be summoned back immediately, simply immediately (if the stories were correct, Elizabeth had enchanted a very wealthy man herself, of nearly five thousand a year and of some royal lineage who wished to pursue her back to Longbourn and propose quite immediately). Mr. Bennet summoned Jane in before he could truly give her away and when Jane insisted that she felt as though the world moved when in the presence of Mr. Darcy and detailed how he made her feel safe and content, it was decided that there would be a spring wedding for the two.
Such details seemed to occur in great speed from the planning of each ribbon and Jane’s dress to the ceremony.
It was standing upon the altar in her whitest dress and standing opposite a man that Jane had come to love while being watched by the ones she loved the most that she supposed she felt true happiness; true and honest happiness. Jane felt as though her nerves would hardly contain themselves as she leaned in upon the very tips of her toes to press her lips to Mr. Darcy and consummate their union with a single, yet deep kiss – proper in the eyes of God, yet enough of a claim to genuinely speak of the feelings developed between them.
When it came time to part, Mr. Darcy gently reached for her hand and threaded their fingers slowly together, the warmth of each of their hands causing shivers that ran wild and free. “Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Indeed,” Jane agreed, happier than she had ever been before in her life.