[ eldestbennetsister ]

    Jane’s gentle heart ached for Mr. Darcy, willing him silently to finish his thought, to tell her what he hoped for. She was not so adept at reading his emotions as she was Lizzy’s or even her Father’s; she had not yet known Mr. Darcy long enough to see past his mask, a solemn and grim version of the one she herself wore. She ducked her head once more to allow the proud man before her a hint of privacy. Jane focused on her long fingers, twisting them into knots as she spoke. “ Elizabeth has many admirable traits, Mr. Dacy. I believe forgiveness to be one of them. ”

    Oh, Jane. What a kind soul. He wished desperately for but a moment that what she said could be true in such a case as his, but disregarded the thought post haste – he would not love Miss Bennet as he did had she been anyone save herself. Still, it was a sadness that seeped into tired eyes. His eyes were old, decades too old for his body, his mind, for he had seen many things, yet he could not ever recall such an ache as the one nestled deep in his chest. “ I am afraid, Miss Bennet, that I am unworthy of her forgiveness. I would grovel that it would donate to my cause, but alas, it would do little good. Nor could I ask it of her for I am not so selfish. ”