A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic (24 page)

Mrs. Jennings acknowledged Ellie’s silence as disbelief. “Yes! It’s true. See for yourself,” she pressed, handing the magazine to Ellie.

Ellie looked to where Mrs. Jennings pointed and saw the picture of Willoughby with that same woman from the charity event. The mystery woman was a Ms. Paris Grey, and along with their picture was the headline “Engaged!” written at top. Looking inside at the article, it read:

Paris Grey of the Greys of Manhattan has found quite a match in New Yorker art critic Jim Willoughby of Colorado. In just two short weeks, their wedding will be held at the Hilton hotel where some 2,000 guests are invited.

Ellie glanced over at Mrs. Jennings and shared her frown. “She must be very rich.”

“She is,” Mrs. Jennings confirmed matter-of-factly. “Poor Marianne. . .” she paused to lament, “But tell her to take
care. There are plenty of eligible men in this world, and with movie star good looks like hers, I have a feeling she won’t be single long.” With that, Mrs. Jennings closed the magazine and turned to leave as a mischievous smile lit up her face. “In fact, I can only imagine what Brandon is thinking right now. . . .”

Ellie hated to admit it, but it was getting harder to deny the signs that Marianne was growing worse every day. She had hoped her efforts in nursing her sister back to good health would not be in vain—but the improvements Ellie so strongly desired to see were still lacking. It was perplexing to witness the once lively and exuberant Marianne looking like a mere shadow of herself.

Managing to coax the heart-sick girl from her room, Ellie and Marianne were now lounging on the leather couch together watching some TV.

“Ellie, Marianne,” Charlotte called as she stepped into view. “Brandon’s here to see you.” Acknowledging this, Ellie stood while Charlotte disappeared to show him in.

“Why can’t he just leave us alone!” the exhausted Marianne exclaimed before getting up to make an escape. But just as Marianne was about to succeed, Brandon entered the room and the two nearly collided. “Oh, excuse me,” she said without remorse, maneuvering around him to exit. Brandon lingered at the door, his eyes clouded with sadness.

Mortified by her sister’s behavior, Ellie smiled awkwardly in greeting. “Hello, Brandon,” she shuffled her feet.

“How is she?” Brandon cut to the chase, his voice laden with concern. Although he hadn’t seen Marianne since the evening of the charity ball, her alteration had not gone unnoticed by him.

“Marianne . . . she. . .” Ellie wasn’t quite sure how to begin, but reminded herself that Brandon was a friend and could be trusted. Starting over, she didn’t try to give him the run around. “She takes things very hard. In her mind, she is still trying to justify Jim’s actions.” Ellie motioned for Brandon to follow her example and sit.

Instead, Brandon looked pensive as he walked to the other end of the room. “Do you . . . would it be okay if,” he began carefully, “if I related some circumstances concerning Jim that might lessen your sister’s despair?”

What could Brandon possibly know about Willoughby that could make Marianne feel better? Nevertheless, whatever he had to share must be important, so Ellie nodded and waited for him to continue.

“When I left Portland this last summer. . .” Brandon continued, “No . . . I must go back further.” He sighed and turned from the window to look at her. “I once knew a girl much like Marianne—the same warmth of heart, the same passion for life and expression. I was very much in love with her, but my dad disapproved of the match and sent me overseas. Being financially dependent on my dad, I went, believing she would wait for me. I completely lost touch with her. When I came back three years later, the first thing I did was try to find her. At last, after six months of searching, I eventually found her. She was in a shelter, dying, and, as I was to discover, had mothered a child who was then only two. I was with Sophie in her last moments. She made me promise to raise Skylar, her daughter who was then in state custody, as if she were my own. When Skylar turned fifteen, I placed her in a school and visited whenever I could. But last February she suddenly disappeared. I had allowed her to go to New York with a friend, and this friend either didn’t know where Skylar had gone, or wouldn’t tell, so I was left to think the worst for eight long months. I received the first bit of news regarding Skylar’s whereabouts the day of the picnic. She was pregnant, and the man responsible had deserted her—”

“Jim?” Ellie asked, breathless.

“Yes,” Brandon answered resolutely. “Jim left Skylar with nothing—not even for the child.”

Ellie shook her head with disbelief. She could believe Willoughby to be the cruel destroyer of hearts, but never thought him capable of something this bad.

“With your sister though,” Brandon began to explain, finally taking a seat next to Ellie. “I sincerely believe Jim’s feelings were geniune. His aunt has since informed me that he had every intention of asking Marianne to marry him. Although she insisted he marry Skylar, to the point of disinheriting him, Jim refused and panicked, giving up his plan of proposing to Marianne and fleeing immediately to New York. Apparently he was relying on his aunt’s money to offset the fact that Marianne was penniless—and love wasn’t enough for Jim to forgo his lifestyle.”

So Willoughby had meant to propose, but his past came to haunt him. Though Ellie received this information with an odd feeling of relief, how on earth was she supposed to tell Marianne about it without further heartbreak? For someone with Marianne’s sensibilities, what could be more romantically devastating than a man who meant to propose but circumstances got in the way?

After Brandon left, Ellie remained downstairs in the solemnity of the family room to further digest Brandon’s revelation. Although she’d rather keep the information to herself, Ellie knew it wouldn’t be fair to Marianne or Brandon. Yet, she couldn’t stop agonizing about how and when to approach Marianne so as to lessen the blow it most surely would cause.

Later that night, Ellie plucked up her courage and told Marianne. Her sister cried and cried until she couldn’t cry any more. It was the knowledge that Willoughby had loved her and intended to propose which broke Marianne’s heart all over again. A rat was a rat, even if he had fallen in love,
and because he was not the man she had believed him to be, it was like losing him twice.

Watching her sister try to stomach the fact that Willoughby would never be a part of her life, Ellie tried to soothe by brushing Marianne’s hair. “At least now you know. . .” Ellie began softly, “. . .he did love you, and saw a future with you.”

Marianne felt as if her life were over. She would never love again—it wasn’t possible. How could someone’s heart, which was once filled with the truest love, be emptied by neglect and refilled by another?

Ellie woke early the next morning to find Marianne still cuddled up next to her, sleeping heavily. She watched the slow rise and fall of her sister’s chest and felt peaceful seeing her exhausted sibling now resting without signs of defeat or worry. Laying her head back down onto the pillow, Ellie tried to fall back asleep but her mind was just too wired to shut off. Quietly getting up, she wandered into the Palmers’ library and selected a book from among Charlotte’s extensive collection of classics. Then, settling onto the comfortable living room couch, Ellie readied herself for some quality relaxation and reading time—something she hadn’t had the luxury of doing for weeks, maybe even months.

Ellie devoured the first chapter of
None but You
, supposedly Rick Wentworth’s adaptation of Jane Austen’s
Persuasion
. Skipping quickly through the ship description, which bored her, Ellie was finally getting to the interesting part: Rick’s thoughts concerning the break-up. But the interruption she had dreaded came to fruition when Lucy wandered most annoyingly into the room while talking on the phone. Ellie glanced up with irritation, finding it extremely difficult to stay focused on her book.

“Okay, sounds good!” Lucy’s excited voice seemed to echo throughout the room. “Yeah, I can’t wait! Okay, bye,” she finished, turning off her phone and sitting on the couch next to Ellie. The movement upset not only Ellie’s perfectly
comfortable seating position, but also her nerves. “Ellie, you never told me Francil was so nice!” Lucy chided. “We seem to have hit it off! She just now invited me to lunch this weekend!” Lucy thought this information would make Ellie incredibly jealous. But, in fact, it did just the opposite.

The doorbell rang, saving Ellie from further conversation, and she quickly put her book down to answer it. Opening the front door, she was caught breathless by the sight of their visitor.

“Ellie!” he greeted with obvious pleasure.

“Edward?!?” Ellie couldn’t disguise the delight from her tone—despite Lucy’s presence. It was obvious Edward couldn’t see Lucy from where he was standing, and for half a second Ellie wasn’t sure whether she should clue him in or not.

“I’m embarrassed it’s taken me so long to visit,” Edward put one foot inside, “I would have come sooner except—”

“Won’t you come in?” Ellie interrupted him, “I believe you know Lucy Steele,” she said, stepping aside to reveal the unhappy Lucy.

One look at Lucy and dread filled Edward’s face. Slowly following Ellie inside, he sat awkwardly on the couch opposite them.

Observing Edward squirm was not as amusing as Ellie had imagined—she cared for him too much to see him like this. Eager to escape this uncomfortable moment, Ellie realized she had the perfect out. Marianne—of course her sister would want to see Edward!

“You know, Marianne would be really disappointed if she didn’t get to see you,” Ellie began, “I think I should go get her. . . .” Without waiting for a reply, Ellie got up and headed toward the stairs with surprising speed.

But to Ellie’s dismay, Marianne bounded down the stairs just then. “Edward? Edward!” she exclaimed with joy, sending her sister a special smile. “I thought I heard your voice.”

Edward stood and received Marianne in a friendly embrace. Studying her face afterward, he was taken aback by the change in both her appearance and countenance. “Are you feeling all right?” Edward asked with concern, taking in every feature.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. . .” Marianne turned to look at her sister, “Ellie is doing well, that’s all that matters.”

As the two of them sat down, Ellie slowly resumed her place next to Lucy, trying hard to avoid the perturbed expression on her couchmate’s face. Lucy’s behavior reminded Ellie that Edward was not a free man, and that this encounter with him might be her last. The thought made her feel more sullen than ever.

Glancing at Ellie just then, Marianne was confused by her sister’s expression. Why wasn’t Ellie glowing? Marianne couldn’t understand what was wrong.

“Do you like New York?” Edward inquired of Marianne, the only neutral party to whom he could speak.

“Not at all,” she confessed outright. “Seeing you has been the highlight of my trip!” Marianne turned and smiled at her sister again, feeling she was voicing Ellie’s sentiments. “Why haven’t you visited us sooner?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

Marianne’s chiding made Edward feel anxious. “I’m sorry to say I’ve had other engagements,” he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Edward, that is no excuse!” Marianne admonished, though with a smile to let him know she had already forgiven him.

While Marianne and Edward continued their superficial conversation, Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. One more insinuation about Edward and Ellie being more than just friends and she would snap. She hadn’t come halfway across the country and danced her way around that old fuddy-duddy Mrs. Jennings just so she could sit around and watch Edward slip away! When Lucy had heard Edward
mention Ellie one too many times in his correspondence and during visits, she’d known it was time to intervene. It was to
her
Edward made his promise long ago, and no matter how much he now regretted it, she would do everything in her power to make him keep it.

“Perhaps, Marianne,” Lucy began, her voice full of venom, “you think that young men never keep their engagements, large or small. I myself believe that once a man says he will do something he should keep his word, even if another tempting
diversion
comes along.”