Duty and Desire chapter 17: Easter part II

I do not own Twilight or Pride and Prejudice.




I trudged forward with purpose, unhindered by the rain, which was falling now in heavy sheets. The mud from the trail was caked on my boots, my clothing thoroughly soaked and clinging to my body. But that meant nothing- any inconvenience could be overlooked; the only thing that mattered was her.

How could Jasper allow her to walk home unaccompanied?

What was he thinking?

She could be hurt!

It was this thought that spurred me on; I was practically running. I could not lose her- I seemed to lose everyone I loved.

The trail from the church to the parsonage crossed a bridge, and then led past a mausoleum. It had decent overhangs which would provide adequate shelter from the rain. I wondered if she would have stopped to seek shelter. But when I thought back to our first meeting, that first vision of Isabella, arms stretched out, dancing in the rain… I think not. Yet this rain was coming down much harder.

I decided to check. If anything, I could move on to the next possibility, with confidence that I’d investigated every avenue, until I found her.

I approached the mausoleum, which held my uncle Aro and previous generations of his family. The structure was round in shape, with a dome ceiling. Pillars lined the outer ring, and beautifully carved statues graced the inner porticos. I had never been one for the use of Greek architecture, yet this was beautifully done.

Stepping onto the marble landing, I started walking in a clockwise direction. I stopped suddenly, hearing a barley distinguishable sound.

And then I heard it again- only this time it was much more distinct.

It was a woman weeping.

I was sure the woman was Isabella, yet I remained rooted in place. What would I say to her? Would she welcome my presence right now? Obviously she was cold, hurt or scared.

Why was I over thinking this? Of course she would welcome my presence; I could comfort her.

With my mind firmly set, I approached.

Her back was facing me; she was hunched slightly, with one hand gripping a column for support and the other to her face.

The sound she made broke my heart.

The weeping came in gut wrenching sobs, the cold air mingling with her breath producing a wispy translucent fog.

Clearing my mind of the shock at seeing Isabella in such a state, I reacted, pulling her into my arms.

I needed to comfort her, to take her tears away.

Yet she pulled away. Not wanting to cause her any discomfort, I released her, but not before I pulled her face toward mine and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. I loved how soft her skin felt; the rain, it seemed, made her scent that much stronger. I inhaled that luscious scent of lavender that was distinctly Isabella’s, taking it all in, before I gently released her.

“Let me take away your tears, beloved,” I said as I stared into her beautiful eyes.

I heard her gasp. It was then I noticed what the rain had done to her dress. Unlike the dress from last fall, this one was a pale yellow- which due to the rain was noticeably translucent. I was transfixed as I watched the stray droplets of water fall from her hair onto her bosom.

I almost groaned.

“Isabella, I seem to have little control over myself when I am with you. Though lord knows, I have tried. The struggles and self deprivation I have gone through has been for naught. No matter my objections to your family, nor your place in society, I cannot help myself. It seems you are necessary for my happiness.”

I needed her to understand what I was telling her, I pulled her roughly to me and kissed her on the lips.

She pulled back sharply with a shocked look upon her face.

“Isabella, I will care for you, protect you, all the days of your life. You will want for nothing. Since our first encounter, I have felt bound by honor to reconcile my feelings for you. I feel for you a passionate love I never thought possible.”

“Sir, I don’t…”

“I love you,” I blurted out. “Most ardently.” I paused only briefly before continuing. “And I beg you most fervently, to end my agony and consent to be my wife.”

My gaze never wavered from hers; I was confused as I watched her expression become shocked and angry.

She stepped back and drew a deep breath before speaking. “Sir, I am sorry for the struggles you were forced to overcome, and for causing you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.”

I was confused, to say the least; was she accepting me or rejecting me?

“Is this all the answer I can expect?”

“It is sir.”

“Are you rejecting me?”

“I am sure the feelings, which as you said hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it.”

Anger overruled my better judgment; I was bitterly disappointed.

“I might wonder why, with such little civility, I am thus rejected.”

Her eyes blazed with that anger I had found so endearing.

“And I might inquire why, with such an evident design to insult me, you choose to tell me you like me- against your better judgment.”

What? Had I not told her how much I loved her?

“No…I…believe me…”

“If I was uncivil, then that would have been some excuse, but I have other reasons. You know I have.”

Reasons?

“I will not pretend to understand the pull I feel when I am around you. Yet despite that, how could you expect to feel that strongly, when you yourself cannot even reconcile your mind to it?”

I opened my mouth to protest but she kept going.

“I will confess, I was surprised by your proposal. I expected an offer of a very different nature. I expected by your continued behavior that you wanted nothing more from me than to be your distraction, or worse, your mistress.”

Oh my Lord, she thinks I want her as a mistress? I could not have her thinking such things.

“I am a gentleman, Madam; I would never do you the dishonor.

“Yes, dishonor, while we are on that subject. Honor bound? I could have demanded your honor the first day we met. However, I have always sworn I would only marry for love. Why would I marry a man who can barely justify his reasons for wanting me in the first place? If that was not reason enough to refuse you, I can scarcely think of one better.”

She paused and smiled before continuing.

“Oh, yes- I believe I can. Do you think anything could possibly tempt me to accept the hand of the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

My mouth stood agape; how did she know that?

“You separate a young couple in love exposing your friend to the censure of the world for caprice, and my sister to the derision of disappointed hopes; involving them both in misery of the most acute kind.”

Isabella paused, and I hoped she was finished. I felt like I had been kicked by my horse.

“Do you deny it?” She looked at me, waiting with what seemed like hope in her eyes that I would deny it, and growing more agitated by my silence.

But I was rendered speechless by her reproof.

Shaking her head, she said, “I see you cannot.”

Defeated, I answered honestly. “I do not deny it.”

As I looked into her eyes, tears began to brim.

“How could you do it?” Her voice sounded anguished.

What had I done?

“Because I believed your sister was indifferent to him! I watched them both most carefully and was persuaded that Emmett’s feelings were much stronger than hers.”

“Indifferent?” she seemed surprised. “My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me.”

Wanting to clear the air, I leveled all the issues raised with respect to a marriage with her sister.

“It was also widely known that an advantageous marriage was highly sought after.”

The tears were gone and the fire was back.

“Did my sister ever give that impression?”

I hoped that by confessing the truth we might be able to salvage our courtship. Perhaps she would be willing to forgive me.

“No… no! Isabella, you and Miss Rosalie have never given that impression. However, the complete want of propriety so often shown by your three younger sisters, your mother, and your father have left much to be desired.”

Her jaw was firmly set, yet she remained quiet.

“It was not until after Mr. McCarty learned of your sister’s previous attachment that he felt it would be unwise to continue trying to win the heart of a woman pining away for another.”

“What other attachment?” she answered in complete confusion.

Did she not know of this?

“We were informed your sister had been previously engaged to a Mr. Royce King, and on grounds unknown, he broke the engagement and fled.”

“So you led him to believe she was indifferent based on this information?” She answered in an exasperated voice.

“Yes, I did it for his own good.”

She laughed, the sound mirthless and desolate.

“It amazes me how that bastard still seems to continually haunt our lives.”

She stopped and drew a ragged breath. One might think she was tired. But this was pure anger.

“If you must know Royce King is nothing but a common rake, who tried to force himself upon my sister. When she refused, he proceeded to beat her until she was unrecognizable and left her for dead. He returned to the house and informed my father he was breaking the engagement, due to our lack of fortune. You see, Mr. King was a wealthy man, perhaps not as much as yourself. But all he wanted was a distraction, and it happened to get out of hand.”

Tears were now falling freely upon her cheeks.

“We found Rosalie that night, fearing the worst. When we happened upon her, she was cold and pale as death.”

She paused to wipe the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

“The good Mr. Royce fled because he feared the law. Unfortunately for us, we were not able to pursue him through the courts without damaging Rosalie’s reputation. While her virtue remains intact, the association would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“So you see, Sir, my sister is merely cautious of men whom may in the beginning have good intentions, but in the end turn out to be cads.”

I was speechless, so much of this story mirrored my own struggles with Alice, and I suddenly felt the urge to be sick. I need time to process this. I had no idea the struggle Miss Rosalie had endured. I felt heartily ashamed for my misguided perceptions.

“Mr. Masen, I had been warned about your selfish and prideful character, yet I was willing to remain impartial and make my own judgments. However, I found a man who prides himself on separating young couples in love simply because their connection does not suit you.”

I winced at her accusation.

“Did your sister and Mr. Wickham really deserve your wrath? To be separated so cruelly? Or is it because you simply cannot tolerate the happiness of others?”

“Mr. Wickham?” I ground out with all the control I possessed.

“Yes, how can you defend yourself on that subject? He told me of the misfortunes he suffered at your hands.”

“His misfortunes? I laughed bitterly. “Yes his misfortunes have been very great indeed.”

I stepped forward; the fire in my eyes no doubt frightening her, as she took a step back.

“You seem to take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns. I should warn you, he is not a man to be trusted. He is a libertine of the worst degree, yet I see you have chosen to take the word of a cad over mine. I have only ever tried to do what I felt was right.”

She did not back down.

“Anyone who took the time to hear them could not help be take an interest. You ruined his chances and yet you can treat him with ridicule and sarcasm.”

“And this is your opinion of me?” I replied with an incredulous look. “Thank you for explaining it so explicitly. But I wonder if these offenses may have been overlooked if I had thrown caution to the wind and openly flattered you? Yet, I was mindful of my duty to my family. I have no regrets for the feelings I confessed, nor am I ashamed. They came from my heart. But perhaps, had your pride not been injured, your feelings would be different.”

Wickham’s lies had poisoned her mind before I even had a chance.

All hope was gone. In its place was bitterness. “Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstance? To congratulate myself on relations whose situation in life is so decidedly below my own?” My words were cold, devoid of any civility.

Isabella blanched visibly at my cut.

“And those are the words of a gentleman? “You are mistaken, Mr. Masen. The mode of your declaration merely spared me any concern in refusing you had you behaved in a more gentlemanly manner.”

The shock was too much; I could not form words to reply.

“Sir, you could not have made your addresses in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept them,” She continued.

She would have never accepted me? Impossible.

“From the very beginning, nay, I would say from our very first encounter. Your insufferable manners impressed upon me the belief that I was nothing more than a distraction, one you could use and abuse at your will. Not to mention your arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain of the feelings of others. Those people, whom you have deemed beneath you, have just as much to offer.”

She had stepped closer toward me during her speech. Her face was now inches from mine.

“I had not known you for a month, before I was convinced you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.”

The thunder rumbled low though the sky, echoing off the marble walls.

Her eyes were ablaze and her chest heaving as she said it all.

I was angry; I had never felt such a rage in my entire life. Yet I found her absolutely beautiful. I leaned toward her as if in a dream. I was so close to her lips, would a kiss be enough to show her just how much I loved her? Would she feel the bitter disappointment my broken heart had been rendered with her words?

With nothing left to lose, I grasped her arms and brought her lips to mine.

I poured everything into the kiss, my love, my bitterness, all those feeling I had kept carefully concealed for too long. Although at first she fought me eventually she succumbed. We poured our mutual anger and regret onto each other, neither of us able to purge our souls of the awful feelings that accompany a broken heart.

Sooner than I’d hoped, Isabella pulled back, no doubt disgusted with herself for giving into me once again. Her face confirmed my fears, as she covered her mouth in horror.

I pulled back slightly and said in a hushed voice. “You have said quite enough, Madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and now will only be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for intruding upon your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

With that, I turned and strode away from her without another word. I was angry and the feeling threatened to consume me. I had come with such high hopes and expectations, only to watch them burn to ash in front of me, all hope scattered to the wind.

I should be rejoicing. I had been granted a release from a most imprudent marriage.

Yet as I walked away, all I could think was the only woman I would ever love hated me.