Page 1 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
W ith her ear pressed to the closed door, Elizabeth could hear the soft, heart-wrenching sobs her elder sister sought to hide.
Only minutes ago, Jane had rushed past her into their shared bedchamber and slammed the door, obviously in a state of some significant distress.
Knocking had received no response; neither had any enquiries as to the state of her health.
Elizabeth was inching ever closer to the edge of panic.
“Jane?” She rattled the latch, but it was locked against her. “Jane, let me in! Tell me what’s wrong!”
“ Go away !”
Jane’s shrill tone, uncomfortably similar to their mother’s, sent Elizabeth reeling back from the door.
What had happened to put her sister in such a state?
Her moods were more changeable during her monthlies, and she was often out of sorts when suffering from ennui.
Could either of those be the source of her affliction ?
“Come away from the door, Lizzy. Jane requires privacy at the moment.”
Turning her baffled gaze to her aunt, who stood at the head of the stairs looking grave, Elizabeth asked, “Why? Is she ill?”
Mrs Gardiner breathed a soft sigh and shook her head. “Not precisely. Come, let us go down to breakfast and I shall explain.”
With another anxious look at the impassive door, Elizabeth followed this directive without further question. Jane’s piteous wails haunted her steps as she abandoned her sister to enigmatic misery.
In the breakfast room, Mrs Gardiner bustled about making each of them a cup of chocolate before she would fulfil her younger niece’s fretful curiosity. At length, she exhaled another sigh and began, “You remember Mr Wilbur, do you not?”
Puzzled by this change of subject, her acknowledgement was delayed in its arrival. “Yes.”
“He is married.”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “What? That is impossible! He likes Jane! How can he be married to someone else?”
Shaking her head with palpable disapproval, Mrs Gardiner produced a newspaper and placed it before her niece. She then pointed to a particular spot on the page. Elizabeth read:
Married Friday last in London, Mr James Wilbur, barrister, to Miss Sophia White, daughter of Mr Jonathan White, proprietor of White he had even scribed poetry—most of it unforgivably atrocious, in her opinion—in her name and recited it to Jane on bended knee.
He had left none of them in any doubt of his attraction, though apparently they had all been duped as to his intentions.
“How can he have done it?” cried Elizabeth, slapping her hand upon the offending newspaper. “He had to have known he was getting married! Did he expect it to be called off?”
“I daresay he has been engaged to, or at least courting, his wife since Jane made his acquaintance. I am only surprised that I did not hear of it before now. I suppose my recent confinement has left me ignorant.”
“It is not your fault!” Elizabeth objected, her voice rising in both volume and pitch. “You have only just re-entered society and cannot be blamed for being unaware of his deceit. It is Mr Wilbur who ought to be ashamed!”
Mrs Gardiner smiled weakly at Elizabeth’s emphatic defence. “I thank you for that, but the truth is I still feel somewhat responsible. It is my duty to protect you girls from the more unpleasant aspects of life whilst you are with us. It seems I have failed.”
“Oh, Aunt…”
“I wish I could say that Mr Wilbur’s behaviour is irregular, but the sad fact is that it is all too common.
Certain gentlemen—if ‘gentlemen’ they can be called—feel no compunction in making a young lady fall in love with them only to abandon her.
Many innocent hearts have been broken in this fashion.
We may be thankful that Mr Wilbur only trifled with her affections and nothing else.
Time will heal Jane’s wounds, but not everything is so easily mended. ”
Elizabeth tilted her head curiously at Mrs Gardiner. “What do you mean?”
With a bright flush in her cheeks, Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat before replying, “Never you mind. It is not for a young girl not even out to know.”
Elizabeth longed to hint that a little more knowledge in this area might have assisted Jane in guarding herself against Mr Wilbur’s machinations, but she bit her tongue. She still entirely blamed that rake for her sister’s sorry state, and it was not fair to wound her aunt by suggesting otherwise.
“At least you and Jane may draw from this situation a useful lesson—a young woman cannot be too guarded in her dealings with the undeserving of the opposite sex. A gentleman might say one thing and behave another way, as we have seen with Mr Wilbur. A lady would do well to protect her most tender feelings until she is reasonably certain that a suitor can be trusted with them.”
She again considered Mr Wilbur’s behaviour, how convincing his fraudulent devotion was.
He had not only tricked Jane— poor, poor Jane!
—into loving him, but also herself and the Gardiners into welcoming him into the family.
His verses, while dreadful, seemed full of sincere feeling, his intentions pure.
That he could act so without any hint of falsehood upon his countenance was greatly disturbing to Elizabeth; despite her young age, she had not believed herself so wretchedly credulous.
And what of the Gardiners? They were full grown, had lived in the world, and even they had not seen Mr Wilbur for what he was.
How was anyone to ever trust a suitor well enough to marry him?
And what could be done for poor Jane?
Perhaps reading this in Elizabeth’s expression, Mrs Gardiner squeezed her hand and said gently, “Do not worry overmuch for Jane. She is but fifteen, only recently out, and will have many more opportunities to fall in love. In time, she will recover from her disappointment and be as she ever was. Better, even, for the experience, for she will not be so easily misled again. In the meantime, we shall treat her with shopping trips and ices. How does that sound?”
Glancing up at the ceiling to where she knew Jane dwelt above them, weeping brokenly over Mr Wilbur’s treachery, Elizabeth swallowed back her own tears.
She trusted her aunt that Jane would be well, but she also vowed in that moment to do her utmost to stand between her sister and heartache from thenceforth.
No alleged ‘gentleman’ would ever abuse her artless, angelic sister’s goodness again, not so long as Elizabeth was there to stand sentry over Jane’s tender heart.
And none would ever beguile Elizabeth into handing her own over so easily either.