‘You must get married from Barton,’ said Sir John.
‘Ay, Sir John, the very thing. We’ll hold the wedding breakfast at the great house,’ said Mrs Jennings.
‘We could not possibly impose on you . . .’ began Mrs Dashwood, but she was talked down, and I believe she was happy for Sir John and Mrs Jennings to have their own way.
‘Three weeks for the banns to be read,’ said Sir John musingly. ‘Then you’ll be marrying in September.’
‘And I’ll be visiting you in the parsonage by Michaelmas, just like I said,’ remarked Mrs Jennings.
She was so pleased about it that no one reminded her she had been intending to visit Edward and Lucy, instead of Edward and Elinor!
Monday 11 September
Elinor and Edward were married this morning.
As they set out on their wedding tour, Marianne said, ‘You are a good friend to all my family, Colonel. Without you, Elinor’s marriage could not have gone ahead, for she and Edward would have had nowhere to live.’
‘I hope that, one day, you will see me as something more than a friend,’ I said to her.
‘A second attachment for both of us,’ she said. ‘I do not know exactly what happened in your past, only that you had an unhappy love affair . . . do not speak of it if you do not wish . . .’
But I found myself telling her about it, ending with Eliza’s death.
‘She died in your arms,’ said Marianne. ‘To think, I judged Willoughby on his handsome face and engaging manners, believing him to be a romantic hero because he carried me home when I sprained my ankle. But beneath his smiles and teasing, he was a wastrel. And yet I dismissed you entirely, though you were ready to elope with your love when your father forced her into a hateful marriage, and you sought her out and protected her when she needed you most, caring nothing for the fact that she had fallen into disgrace. You looked after her daughter, fighting a duel in order to protect her honour, and then brought her here, where she could be happy. You have loved and suffered, and yet it has not made you bitter, for you have the courage to love again. It is you who are the figure out of romance.’
‘Marianne,’ I said. ‘I have no right to hope. You have your life before you . . .’ I became suddenly tongue-tied. Now that the moment had come, I was unaccustomedly nervous. ‘But if you ever — if I might — if you think — I am putting this badly — but if you should ever want my hand as well as my heart, it is yours.’
‘You have given me so much already that I should decline, but I cannot deprive myself of such a gift,’ she said, her face turning towards mine until our lips met.
At last we parted, and she blushed.
‘Am I to take it that you will?’ I said.
‘Yes, thank you, Colonel — ’
I smiled to hear that word, for the last time, on her lips.
‘James,’ I said.
‘James,’ she said. ‘I accept.’
Tuesday 12 September
What pleasure it is, to know that our betrothal has given pleasure to all our friends. After accepting their congratulations we walked in the garden.
‘I have loved you for so long, I can scarcely believe that, at last, I have the right to call you mine,’ I said.
She looked at me in surprise.
‘You have loved me for so long? Pray, when did you begin? I thought your feelings were quite new.’
‘My dearest Marianne, you are the only one who has not noticed! I have been in love with you for months; since before Christmas. Your open heartedness, your energy, your honesty, your eagerness and your tempestuous nature delighted me and brought me back to life.’
‘Then Mrs Jennings’s teasings were true?’ she asked.
‘They were.’
‘I thought it was absurd of her to tease you in such a manner. I pitied you for your age, which seemed very advanced, and indeed it was, next to my youth and immaturity. But now, although I am still young in years, I am no longer young in understanding. I have loved and suffered, and I have seen my sister do the same. I have been ill, and my life has been despaired of, and I have seen my mother look old and grey because she feared I would die. I have come back from the brink of death, and I have discovered that the sun still shines without Willoughby, that the wind still blows, and that there is poetry still in life, though I have found it where least I looked for it. I have learned to look beneath the surface of things, and now, I believe, our ages are not so very different; indeed, that the years that lie between us are a good, rather than an evil, for you have a great deal to show me; not just picnics and parties, enjoyable as they are, but matters of deeper import, too. Willoughby was a shallow pool, but I have found a river in which to swim.
‘I have been born to an extraordinary fate, have I not?’ she said, stopping and turning to face me. ‘For I have discovered the falsehood of my own opinions, and now it only remains for me to counteract them by my conduct.’
‘Which can never fail to please me,’ I said tenderly. ‘You have restored me to life, and together we will be happy.’
I kissed her and then we walked on, arm in arm, planning our wedding trip to the Lake District and talking happily of the future.
1798
Sunday 7 October
Marianne and I were married this morning at Delaford church. Leyton stood up with me whilst Edward conducted the ceremony, and Marianne’s brother, John, gave her away.
‘I am surprised he managed it, for it is the first time he has ever given anything away in his life,’ remarked Margaret, who, at fifteen, is becoming decidedly saucy and is a great friend to Mrs Jennings.
‘If he’d listened to his wife, he’d have decided he couldn’t afford it, and he’d have ended up parting with nothing more than an arm,’ said Mrs Jennings, as she enjoyed the wedding breakfast. ‘Or, more like, a finger.’
Elinor, with her son in her arms, sat close by, and told them not to speak so loud for John would hear.
‘Tush! What if he does?’ said Mrs Jennings, before turning once again to Margaret. ‘Now, my dear, you will be sixteen soon. You must come and stay with me in Berkeley Street. You will break a great many hearts, I am sure: London is full of fine beaux!’
Amanda Grange lives in Cheshire, England. She has published many novels, including Lord Deverill’s Secret, Mr. Knightley’s Diary, Captain Wentworth’s Diary, Edmund Bertram’s Diary, and Harstairs House. Visit her website at www.amandagrange.com.
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