A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic (30 page)

“How is she?” Willoughby asked, his voice disclosing his misery. Studying his tear-swollen eyes, Ellie felt sorry for him until remembering that
he
was the cause of Marianne’s present condition. Was the guilt finally getting to him now that he thought Marianne was sick and dying? Turning quickly on her heels, Ellie reached for the door knob.

“No!” Willoughby pleaded loudly, “You have to tell me how she is! Please!” he begged in a softer voice, causing Ellie to hesitate. Sensing he was gaining ground, Willoughby continued as he advanced toward her, “I heard Marianne was ill and that she might even die. I came here as fast as I could. Please, can I see her?”

“That’s impossible,” Ellie stated flatly, refusing to look at him.

“Then, please,” Willoughby placed his hand on her arm. “At least let me explain my actions . . . it’s important to me that Marianne knows how much I cared—still care,” he corrected himself.

Although Ellie’s inner voice questioned the sincerity of Willoughby’s feelings, seeing as he’d been able to cruelly abandon her sister, her heart told her she should at least hear him out, for Marianne’s sake. “I can’t promise you that I’ll share anything about this conversation with her,” Ellie conceded, still avoiding his gaze.

“That’s fine—maybe someday you’ll find it in your heart to tell her what I had to say. The thought of her dying. . .” Willoughby’s voice cracked, “. . .has made me realize my actions need to be explained.”

Slowly nodding her head, Ellie moved to an open chair and sat down, ready to listen. While she believed there would never be an excuse good enough to vindicate Willoughby’s actions, Ellie had to confess that his explanation might help Marianne heal.

Not wasting any time, Willoughby began to recount his side of the story. “When I met your sister, I was instantly attracted to her beauty. Even so, I had no serious intentions with her beyond amusing myself during my stay in Oregon.”

He paused, and Ellie felt her blood begin to boil. She certainly wasn’t going to sit here and listen to this! Willoughby thought of Marianne as his mere ‘play thing’, did he? Moving to get up, Willoughby had to stop her once more.

“Ellie—please, don’t—” he pleaded again, “I’m not finished! I haven’t told you that everything changed for me when I began to know Marianne!” Hearing the raw emotion which clouded his voice, Ellie paused, giving Willoughby a second chance to continue. “All at once,” he carried on, “I saw the true treasure that Marianne is, and before I knew it, I found myself hopelessly and madly in love with her.”

Meeting Willoughby’s gaze for the first time, Ellie couldn’t deny the heartbreak behind his eyes. Expressing her sympathy with a slight nod, a momentary truce was formed. Knowing she would now stay and hear him out, Willoughby relaxed somewhat. Confirming this, a humbled Ellie returned to her seat.

Willoughby rubbed his jaw and looked squarely at Ellie. “Love was a new emotion for me, Ellie, and I was overwhelmed by it.” Ellie shied away from his searing eyes and blushed. “But. . .” his voice faded as he struggled to resume, “. . .the evening before I planned to tell Marianne how I truly
felt about her—and that I wanted her to marry me—something happened. . . .”

Ellie felt her heart begin to race at this revelation. So Willoughby really had intended to propose. “You were found out. . .” she thought out loud, and Willoughby looked at her oddly. “I know about you and Skylar,” Ellie explained with another blush.

Willoughby nodded and looked away shame-faced. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I’ve done, but believe me when I say I didn’t take advantage of Skylar like she would have everyone believe.” Ellie’s expression turned skeptical, and Willoughby further explained, “Skylar was very
free
with her affections, if you know what I mean. I never really pursued her, but I will admit that as a single man at the time, I willingly received her advances.”

“So when you’d had your fill of Skylar, you just left her, knowing she was carrying your child?” Ellie asked, a tinge of disgust to her tone.

“I wasn’t even sure it was mine,” Willoughby defended. Ellie could only look away with repulsion. “Skylar didn’t tell me she was pregnant until months after I left,” Willoughby went on, “I made no promises to her, Ellie—it was just a spring fling, she knew that.”

Morals like Willoughby’s were so foreign to Ellie. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. One thing Ellie did know for sure, however, was that she still had more questions for Willoughby which needed answering. “What about the letter you sent to Marianne? Do you have an explanation for that?”

“
That
letter was dictated to me by my then fiancé,” Willoughby began, “She said she’d call off the wedding if I didn’t send the letter to Marianne. I didn’t know what to do—I had lost everything I’d ever wanted because of Skylar, I couldn’t lose my future.” Willoughby sat down at the window in surrender, overburdened with regrets.

“Why couldn’t you have just explained all of this to Marianne at the time?” Ellie asked, feeling quite bewildered herself.

“I was ashamed of what I’d done,” Willoughby unconsciously raised his voice as if scolding himself. “I couldn’t handle Marianne knowing the truth at the time; I didn’t want her thinking badly of me.”

“You mean you’d rather have her think of you as the selfish idiot who broke her heart?”

Hearing Ellie’s sarcastic comment, Willoughby jolted from his seat and came toward her. “Does she. . .” his desperate voice asked, “. . .does she hate me?”

Ellie looked away to avoid answering his question. She knew Marianne harbored no ill feelings for Willoughby but didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Ellie’s silence said enough though, and Willoughby turned away from her like a wounded animal. Had she lied and said her sister hated him, Willoughby would have felt exonerated for his cowardly retreat. Yet Marianne, almost angelic to him, was the one lying on her death bed. With his back to her, he ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Marianne . . . Marianne. . .” Willoughby moaned before turning quickly to Ellie and begging, “Please tell her that my present life
is
my punishment.”

Ellie looked puzzled—Willoughby had everything, right? Money, status, a beautiful wife—what more could he want?

“Never having felt so deeply for someone before, I stupidly thought I could just get over her,” Willoughby explained, “But I can’t. Every day, I see Marianne’s sweet face—her laughter—the joy she brought into my life—it haunts me. I thought money and status would make up for it, but—it doesn’t.” He sat down next to her in agony, his dark thoughts overtaking him. “It’s like I’m only half-alive without her to complete me,” he added quietly. Then, in a voice suddenly emboldened with passion, he found the courage to continue, “I face a life, Ellie, where every day I’ll regret let
ting her go—and it kills me to know that someday, another guy will get the pleasure of waking up to her each morning.”

Ellie was speechless as she sat before Willoughby. Despite herself, she was actually able to feel pity for him after observing his obvious pain and misery. For a split second, she actually wished Willoughby’s past hadn’t been exposed. Oh, that he and Marianne could have been together—that the two of them could have shared in a love which for them was pure and true! Yet, Willoughby’s behavior before meeting Marianne had paved the way for their unhappy ending. While he would forever suffer for his past and present actions, Marianne had another chance to fall in love, hopefully this time with a man who would be constant and true.

Cutting through Ellie’s reverie, someone knocked on the door and then opened it without waiting for a reply. The light beaming in from the hallway blinded Ellie and Willoughby, making it difficult at first to recognize the intruder standing in the doorway. It was the nurse Ellie had spoken with earlier.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the nurse apologized, observing the pained face of Willoughby. “Your mother and Brandon are here. I’ll go ahead and take them into your sister’s room,” she said before leaving the two alone again.

Ellie turned back to Willoughby and was surprised to find him gazing intently at her face. “You will tell her, won’t you? Tell her that I love her—will always love her?” Willoughby’s eyes pleaded.

Drained by the entreaties of this broken-hearted man, coupled with the sleepless and worrisome night, Ellie nodded without giving any thought to her earlier misgivings. She would tell Marianne about her conversation with Willoughby, about how he’d laid his heart out on the table, apologized, and how he would forever love her. Although Ellie hadn’t appreciated hearing everything Willoughby shared, she was grateful for his honesty. The sincerity he’d expressed as he relayed his love for Marianne, and also his heavy regret over
leaving her, had touched Ellie’s sympathetic heart. But it was the simple act of coming all this way to the hospital, albeit under the impression that Marianne lay dying, which most influenced her decision to speak to her sister.

Ellie took her time returning to Marianne’s room, wanting to process all that had just occurred. She knew her face must betray the emotional aftermath of her conversation with Willoughby, but it didn’t seem the right time to tell Marianne about it. Pacing the hospital corridors for about ten minutes, she eventually entered the familiar room where Marianne resided and was greeted by her mother and Brandon.

“You just missed seeing the doctor,” Brandon announced. He looked like a transformed man now that Marianne was recovering.

“The doctor said he’s amazed by Marianne’s rapid improvement,” Diane added proudly, getting up and kissing Ellie on the cheek. “She should be able to go home in a few days if she keeps this up.” Diane looked back at Marianne with a smile. “Would you like a glass of water, honey?” she asked, and Marianne nodded.

“Let me,” Brandon offered, moving swiftly to where Marianne’s empty water glass sat before Diane could respond further. Smiling sheepishly, he walked out into the hallway in pursuit of a refill. Yet before he was out of hearing, Marianne’s sweet voice called after him; surprised, Brandon quickly returned to see what she needed.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Marianne’s vulnerable smile melted Brandon’s heart all over again.

Fighting the temptation to engulf her in his arms, Brandon nodded smilingly but stayed on course, going back out into the hallway.

If Ellie had been a betting woman, she’d have to say Brandon’s chances were getting better by the hour.

Marianne’s health improved dramatically with the arrival of Diane, her motherly magic restoring the patient almost to her former self. Along with this improvement came the return of Marianne’s appetite and infectious spirit—leaving the doctor baffled by this seeming medical impossibility. Diane, however, explained it as a miracle of God.

Three days later, the patient was finally discharged and placed on a plane to Portland.

After making sure Marianne was tucked into her window seat with a traveling blanket, Diane proceeded to place her carry on into the upper compartment above the row she and Ellie shared. Ellie was already buckled in and glancing through the sky mall shopping catalog when they turned to observe Brandon’s approach. They couldn’t help but notice the special gift he had in his hand for Marianne. As if he hadn’t done enough already—having made all the arrangements for their trip back home!

“Marianne. . .” Brandon said softly after receiving an inviting smile from her. “I thought you might enjoy looking at this during the plane flight.” Diane and Ellie watched as he took a seat beside Marianne and placed in her hands a beautifully bound book.

Marianne thoroughly studied the cover before reading its description aloud. “A review of the newest works in modern art,” she turned to Brandon with a pleased expression. “Oh, thank you!”

Given the green light, Brandon scooted a little closer and opened the book on her lap. “I hope you don’t mind, I flipped through it earlier and there’s this painting I wanted to show you. It’s on page forty-five, I think.”

While Brandon proceeded to show Marianne the pictured artwork, the observant mother and sister exchanged knowing smiles. Seated beside her eldest, Diane leaned in close to Ellie. “I will forever be grateful to Brandon for all he has done for us,” she commented quietly.