Note: Because I am writing this for NaNo it is not edited and it might have a little bit more sentences and stuff in December when I can sit down and add and erase and do all that other good stuff.
Hope you enjoy,
~Angel
The Jane Effect
By Angel of Death
Part 9: The Night's End
The night had come and gone with the passage of time. Each second brought about new friendships and extinguished worries. Maria and Elizabeth talked until the clock tolled. They spoke of past lives and hobbies. When Andrew was mentioned, her heart pounded incessantly. She tried desperately to hide her feelings but the warmth to her cheeks could never go unnoticed. Maria had not caught on to Elizabeth’s discomfort. Instead she continued to talk about her family while Elizabeth nodded. There was silence as some one bounded into th e room all smiles. It was Andrew. The venomous expression that had washed over his face was gone. All of the tension between Edward and him seemed as if it floated away as they stood before them, side by side. Edward’s manner was neither content or angered. His head was held low and his arms were behind his back.
Mr. Garrison, who had livened up the party with his jokes and pleasant gallantry, stared at his son, his eyes containing just a hint of concern. He rose from his chair with the aid of Elaine, and bid everyone farewell. As the two started towards the door, Elaine stared at Edward with a cold look on her face. Her lips were level bridges and her emotions went from eye to eye. Feeling the hate infested glare, Edward pulled his head up and met Elaine’s gaze. Her face paled and her eyes became glass orbs. Elizabeth watched this, wondering curiously about what Elaine was going to say about Sir Harvey. There was something more to him that she couldn’t fathom. Suddenly, he turned to face her. His eyes were filled with alarm and another emotion anonymous to her knowledge. Cheeks flushing, she looked away, hoping he’d turn his attention somewhere else. But he didn’t. She could still feel his gaze on her face. The feeling of his eyes sweeping over her face, reminded her of what it was like to touch a flaming cauldron. Or what it felt like to fall into a bed of snow. Elaine had long since left the room but she could tell from the distant look on her face, that she was scared. It curled in her lips and coursed through her veins, paralyzing the blood thus explaining the ghostly tint to her skin.
Maria had struck up a conversation with Daniel, who was still standing by the window. Elizabeth watched as his features brightened. It had been a long time since she seen him smile. Cassandra waltzed over to her brother, a frown bubbling on her lips. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Andrew whispering something to his sister and Cassandra nodding. The way Edward jerked his head in their direction, made her realize that they were speaking about him.
Andrew apologized for his absence and thanked everyone for attending the party. There were plenty ‘thank yous’ from Mrs. Greenly, who could not help but throw in many compliments to the Garrison family. Being the gentlemen that he was, Andrew smiled softly and told her there was no need for such words. A hand fell on Elizabeth’s shoulder. It was William. His top hat was in his hands and there was no expression on his angel’s face. Curtsying, Elizabeth smiled and followed him as he motioned for her to come with him to another side of the room.
“Did you enjoy the evening?” he asked, softly.
“Yes, I did. You and my sister seem to had a splendid time. Do you like her?” she replied, jokingly.
William’s face turned an awful shade of red. Running a hand through his lustrous bronze hair, he stared at Elizabeth seeming to be at a lost for words.
“Your sister is very…flamboyant.” he murmured.
“I was only jesting with you. Please, don’t take what I say too seriously.”
There was a moment of silence, and then William turned to look at his brother. Edward was staring at some portraits on the wall, a hard expression on his face. It took some work for him to remain as solemn as he had. Who was he masquerading for? Certainly not for Elizabeth. She could feel the hatred that he held for her, boiling in his eyes. Besides, how could a man with so much pride care how they look to someone else.
“My brother speaks without thinking. You mustn’t judge him so freely.” William said.
“I suppose you’re right. You know your brother more than I do. But I can not help but think ill of him.”
“And why is that, Elizabeth?” he asked.
“Because he does not approve of me. Us, to be more blunt.”
William nodded and sighed. Elizabeth could tell that he cared for his brother but there was something else threatening their relationship. Something that could not be helped no matter how hard they tried to work around it. Wanting to brighten the conversation, Elizabeth thanked him for the dress and the mask. Cocking his head to the side, William returned a look of puzzlement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replied.
“Well, if I did not merit these gifts from you then where could they have possibly come from?” she asked, softly.
“Perhaps, some secret admirer.” he said, harshly.
Elizabeth did not know the reason for his change of manner, but she did know that the thought of a secret admirer was preposterous.
“Have you not had a lover before?”
It was a very personal question that brought fire to her cheeks. Not knowing how to respond, she focused on the bow on her skirt. It was blue and a little frazzled from her constant walking around.
“I am sorry for my rudeness.”
“It is fine.” she lied, still looking down. Two feet appeared in her view. They were brown boots, polished and sprinkled with paint. Elizabeth did not have to look up to know who it was.
“Elizabeth,” Andrew said, bowing his head.
“Andrew,” she said, curtsying.
“I am sorry for my actions. They were irrational and I should not have lost my temper in front of a lady. May I have your forgiveness.” he asked, bowing his head.
Elizabeth smiled at him and said “Yes.” A sigh of relief escaped from his lips as he looked up at her.
“It would be wonderful if we can finish the portrait some other time. I enjoyed your company.”
“And I yours. Perhaps, I shall send a letter to your residence when we can see each other again.” Andrew agreed, smiling.
“What a splendid idea. You’ll enjoy Andrew’s letters quite a lot. He is as much of an accomplished writer as he is an artist.” William chimed in.
Elizabeth had forgotten that he was standing there but when she laid her eyes on him, she caught the pain washing over his face. Was it envy that tainted his demeanor? It would be odd if that was the matter of his displeasure. But he framed it well. Andrew thanked him for his comment and then the conversation continued amongst the three. They spoke of the weather in Pennington and if it was more amiable than London or Harrington, where Andrew and his family were from. It was concluded that it could be better and that London was a very cold and gray place to live. Elizabeth, curious about Andrew’s life in Harrington, asked about his establishment. He described it as old and gloomy. It had too many unused rooms and creaking stairs. William was not partial to Andrew’s words. Instead, he thought that it was a desirable place to live.
“The wildlife there is in abundance.” he said, chuckling.
“You must start working on your jokes Will. They are not funny.” Andrew muttered.
Again Elizabeth witnessed Andrew’s face turning deadly and fierce. Though it wasn’t as harsh as it was earlier.
“What is your home like William?”
“You must come to visit sometime. This is the best time of year to visit.” Edward had approached them. His arms were still behind his back and that solemn mien had returned.
“Yes, its very deadly out there in the deep dark forest of Miselwaite.” Andrew said, smirking.
“Come, William. We must make our leave.” Edward said, ignoring Andrew.
William kissed Elizabeth on the cheek and bowed his head to Andrew. Andrew returned the gesture and then they were off. It was amazing that two brothers could be so very different.
“Well, my family and I must be going as well. Its getting dark outside.” she said, curtsying.
“You all are welcome to stay the night.” he said, softly.
Elizabeth blushed at this and shook her head, saying that it was all right.
“My family live just up the hill. It will not take long for us to reach home.”
“Then I shall see you out.”
Mr. and Mrs. Greenly and the rest of the lot, were surprisingly all ready to go as well. Maxine, who was just winding down from her drunkenness, lingered on the edge of sleep. Daniel carried her out of the room and out to the carriage, which was situated out front. Patch was chewing on a carrot and one of the Garrison’s stablemen was patting his head. He was short and had a lean figure. It looked like it pained him that they had to take Patch away.
“Nice horse you got here sir.” he said to Mr. Greenly.
“He’s been in the family for years.” Mr. Greenly explaining, climbing in front of the carriage and grabbing the reigns. Elizabeth climbed into the back, with Mrs. Greenly trailing behind her. Daniel slid Maxine, who was fast asleep, beside Elizabeth.
“We must do this again with just us girls.” Cassandra said to Maria who was approaching the carriage. Nodding, Maria kissed Cassandra on both cheeks and then ran to say goodbye to Daniel. There was a gleam in his eye as he kissed her on her head, and bowed his head. Elizabeth envied their love but she could not help being happy for her brother. He deserved the affections of such a nice lady.
“Here is your mask, Elizabeth.” Cassandra stretched her hand into the carriage and handed Elizabeth the piece of armor she’s been looking for all night. It was cold and it glittered in the moon’s shadow. Placing in her lap, she smiled and waved at Cassandra. After Daniel had climbed in, they were off. Patch galloping down the road, attuned with the sound of the crickets chirping. Mrs. Greenly had remained quiet. She was staring out the window, admiring the stars and the last cadences of the night. Elizabeth wondered if she thought of the silence between them. They had parted at the beginning of the night on such unpleasant terms. Though Elizabeth was mad at her mother, it didn’t take her long to rid herself of a grudge.
“Did you approve of Maria?” Daniel asked, turning to look at Elizabeth.
“She is a very lovely woman.”
“She adores you.”
“I believe she will make a wonderful friend.”
“I plan to marry her.”
Mrs. Greenly’s eyes widened and then she turned to look at her son. There was nothing more mood lightning than your eldest son marrying.
“That is wonderful, my dear. Just wonderful.”
“So soon?” I asked, frowning.
“Don’t fret, dear little sister. I’ve known her for quite some time and I think we’re ready.”
Elizabeth could not help but worry. Perhaps it was her jealously that was clouding her happiness. But jealous or not she would lose her brother to marriage. He’d move away with his bride and he’d only come around on holidays. That’s how it was with Patrick and Genevieve, though Elizabeth was closer to her eldest brother than she was to Patrick. So the departure was not all that painful.
“Are not you happy for me?”
“Yes, more than anything. It’s just…”
“You approve of Maria don’t you?”
“She would make a fine sister.” Elizabeth said. This was the truth or part of it. She thought kindly of Maria and would never think ill of her. On one hand, it would be pleasant if she could have a sister that she could relate to but on the other her heart was turning green by the second. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and remained silent for the rest of the ride.
I've been waiting for so long! hehe
Sorry, Angel! I don't mean that harshly at all. I just would love to see some of that famous imagery of yours! 
Two reasons. First, it creates mental pictures for the reader. When reviewers use terms like "vivid," "evocative," or "cinematic" to describe a piece of prose, they really mean the writer has succeeded at showing, rather than merely telling.
First, some parts of a story are trivial — you may want your reader to know a fact, without dwelling on it. If the weather is only incidental to the story, then it's perfectly all right to simply tell the reader "it was snowing." Indeed, if you were to show every little thing, the reader would say your story is padded.
You must write more.
