by Lauren Lane
A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece of water — a sail on which was to a form a great part of the morning’s amusement; cold provisions were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure.
To some few of the company it appeared rather a bold undertaking, considering the time of year, and that it had rained every day for the last fortnight; and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a cold, was persuaded by Elinor to stay at home.
CHAPTER XIII
Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out very different from what Elinor had expected. She was prepared to be wet through, fatigued, and frightened; but the event was still more unfortunate, for they did not go at all.
By ten o’clock the whole party was assembled at the park, where they were to breakfast. The morning was rather favourable, though it had rained all night, as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky, and the sun frequently appeared. They were all in high spirits and good humour, eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise.
While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in. Among the rest there was one for Colonel Brandon: — he took it, looked at the direction, changed colour, and immediately left the room.
“What is the matter with Brandon?” said Sir John.
Nobody could tell.
“I hope he has had no bad news,” said Lady Middleton. “It must be something extraordinary that could make Colonel Brandon leave my breakfast table so suddenly.”
In about five minutes he returned.
“No bad news, Colonel, I hope,” said Mrs. Jennings, as soon as he entered the room.
“None at all, ma’am, I thank you.”
“Was it from Avignon? I hope it is not to say that your sister is worse.”
“No, ma’am. It came from town, and is merely a letter of business.”
“But how came the hand to discompose you so much, if it was only a letter of business? Come, come, this won’t do, Colonel; so let us hear the truth of it.”
“My dear madam,” said Lady Middleton, “recollect what you are saying.”
“Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny is married?” said Mrs. Jennings, without attending to her daughter’s reproof.
“No, indeed, it is not.”
“Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I hope she is well.”
“Whom do you mean, ma’am?” said he, colouring a little.
“Oh! you know who I mean.”
“I am particularly sorry, ma’am,” said he, addressing Lady Middleton, “that I should receive this letter to-day, for it is on business which requires my immediate attendance in town.”
“In town!” cried Mrs. Jennings. “What can you have to do in town at this time of year?”
“My own loss is great,” he continued, “in being obliged to leave so agreeable a party; but I am the more concerned, as I fear my presence is necessary to gain your admittance at Whitwell.”
What a blow upon them all was this!
“But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon,” said Marianne, eagerly, “will it not be sufficient?”
He shook his head.
“We must go,” said Sir John. “It shall not be put off when we are so near it. You cannot go to town till to-morrow, Brandon, that is all.”
“I wish it could be so easily settled. But it is not in my power to delay my journey for one day!”
“If you would but let us know what your business is,” said Mrs. Jennings, “we might see whether it could be put off or not.”
“You would not be six hours later,” said Willoughby, “if you were to defer your journey till our return.”
“I cannot afford to lose one hour.”
Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, “There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of them. He was afraid of catching cold I dare say, and invented this trick for getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his own writing.”
“I have no doubt of it,” replied Marianne.
“There is no persuading you to change your mind, Brandon, I know of old,” said Sir John, “when once you are determined on anything. But, however, I hope you will think better of it. Consider, here are the two Miss Careys come over from Newton, the three Miss Dashwoods walked up from the cottage, and Mr. Willoughby got up two hours before his usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell.”
Colonel Brandon again repeated his sorrow at being the cause of disappointing the party; but at the same time declared it to be unavoidable.
“Well, then, when will you come back again?”
“I hope we shall see you at Barton,” added her ladyship, “as soon as you can conveniently leave town; and we must put off the party to Whitwell till you return.”
“You are very obliging. But it is so uncertain, when I may have it in my power to return, that I dare not engage for it at all.”
“Oh! he must and shall come back,” cried Sir John. “If he is not here by the end of the week, I shall go after him.”
“Ay, so do, Sir John,” cried Mrs. Jennings, “and then perhaps you may find out what his business is.”
“I do not want to pry into other men’s concerns. I suppose it is something he is ashamed of.”
Colonel Brandon’s horses were announced.
“You do not go to town on horseback, do you?” added Sir John.
“No. Only to Honiton. I shall then go post.”
“Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you a good journey. But you had better change your mind.”
“I assure you it is not in my power.”
He then took leave of the whole party.
“Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters in town this winter, Miss Dashwood?”
“I am afraid, none at all.”
“Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time than I should wish to do.”
To Marianne, he merely bowed and said nothing.
“Come Colonel,” said Mrs. Jennings, “before you go, do let us know what you are going about.”
He wished her a good morning, and, attended by Sir John, left the room.
The complaints and lamentations which politeness had hitherto restrained, now burst forth universally; and they all agreed again and again how provoking it was to be so disappointed.
“I can guess what his business is, however,” said Mrs. Jennings exultingly.
“Can you, ma’am?” said almost every body.
“Yes; it is about Miss Williams, I am sure.”
“And who is Miss Williams?” asked Marianne.
“What! do not you know who Miss Williams is? I am sure you must have heard of her before. She is a relation of the Colonel’s, my dear; a very near relation. We will not say how near, for fear of shocking the young ladies.” Then, lowering her voice a little, she said to Elinor, “She is his natural daughter.”
“Indeed!”
“Oh, yes; and as like him as she can stare. I dare say the Colonel will leave her all his fortune.”
When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily in the general regret on so unfortunate an event; concluding however by observing, that as they were all got together, they must do something by way of being happy; and after some consultation it was agreed, that although happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, they might procure a tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country. The carriages were th
en ordered; Willoughby’s was first, and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of them was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the return of all the rest.
“Where shall we go?” Marianne asked as they drove.
Willoughby just smiled, and said rather mysteriously, “I never thought I’d have reason to be indebted to Colonel Brandon.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Marianne asked, giggling with excitement. She did not care where they were going, as long as she would not have to wait much longer to feel Willoughby’s warm, muscled body against her skin.
“I mean, my darling, that if Brandon had not so rudely and suddenly abandoned us, we would still be in the company of our party, resigned to nothing more than polite conversation and a few innocent grazes of my glove against yours. But instead we have the whole day to be alone together, to spend our time however we wish. And I wish to make love to you in a bed.”
Marianne gasped. The thought was heavenly. They’d never made it to her bedroom on the day of her deflowering, and since then they’d had to take their opportunities where they’d come, which usually meant out of doors. She didn’t mind — it wasn’t the place that mattered, but rather the man she was with. However, now the prospect of being with her Willoughby on the plushness of a real bed had her warm with anticipation. “A bed? But how? Where?”
He grinned. “I am bringing you to Allenham, the home of my aunt.”
They arrived shortly, and after Willoughby introduced Marianne to Mrs. Smith and they exchanged all the usual pleasantries, Willoughby announced he would like to show Marianne the house, wrapped his arm around her waist, and led her up the grand staircase.
“Does your aunt not suspect our true purpose of being here?” Marianne whispered as they hurried down a long hall. She’d noticed Mrs. Smith giving her a peculiar look.
“I imagine she does, but she will be discreet.”
“But how do you know?”
“She always has been before,” Willoughby said.
Marianne stopped in her tracks and stared up at Willoughby’s handsome face. “You mean … you have brought other women here?” She was no fool — she knew Willoughby had been with women before her. But they had never spoken of it until now.
He looked down at her calmly. “I have. Only once or twice. But rest assured, my darling — ” he kissed her hand, “ — I never shall again. From the day I met you on that rain slick hill, you have made your way into my heart as the last woman, the only woman, I want to be with from here on out.”
And with that, the uneasiness in Marianne’s core melted away. “Do I understand you correctly, Mr. Willougby?” she whispered, her breath quickening.
He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes tenderly. “I believe you do, Marianne.” He gazed into her eyes lovingly. “But we must wait to speak the words aloud, for I will not do you the dishonour of proposing officially until I am sure that I will be able to provide the kind of future you deserve, my dear, filled with all the fine things the world has to offer. I have a few promising business transactions in the works at present; would it be agreeable to you to wait a bit longer?”
Marianne had never heard anything so romantic! Not only had the man of her dreams all but promised they would someday be married, but he had revealed his wish to spend the rest of his life granting her her heart’s desires. She squealed with joy and crushed her mouth to his, her hands immediately finding their way to the bulge in his pants. Willoughby laughed into their kiss and pulled her into the nearest room, swinging the door firmly shut behind them.
Marianne’s gaze instantly landed on the oversized canopy bed, and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on atop it, squealing with delight like a child, her curls springing up and down. Willoughby jumped on after her and they tore and each other’s clothes as they bounced.
When they were both sufficiently naked, Marianne sank down under the covers, sliding her body across the silkiness of the sheets. She’d never been naked in a bed before, and the feeling was so divine that she decided then and there to bypass her nightgowns from now on whenever the weather was warm enough.
“Is this your room?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“This is the bed where you sleep each night?”
“Yes.”
Marianne pressed her face to the pillow and breathed in Willoughby’s familiar scent. “Do you ever dream of me while you lie here?”
“Every night,” he replied, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.
They had the whole day ahead of them, and Willoughby took his time enjoying Marianne’s body, caressing every last speck of her, tasting her skin, languishing in her scent, sliding in and out of her slowly and gently. Her answering moans of delight told him that she was enjoying it every bit as much as he was. He’d surprised himself when he’d told her that she was the only woman he wanted to be with from this day forth, but deep down he knew it was true. This woman would keep him satisfied for the rest of his life, and he would be a fool to let her go.
“Willoughby,” Marianne breathed as she rolled on top of him several minutes after their simultaneous climax. “You have made me the happiest woman in England to-day. Please, tell me what I can do for you.”
“Your being here with me is more than enough, my darling,” he replied sleepily.
But Marianne straddled him and began to grind her hips, effectively bringing his manhood to attention once more. “No, please. There must be something you want. Something we haven’t yet tried? Teach me.”
One image in particular sprung to Willoughby’s mind and he grinned wickedly. “Well, there is one thing … ”
Marianne giggled and bounced up and down excitedly, the bed springs and her breasts rebounding in time with one another. “Yes, show me!”
“Come here, give me your hand.” Willoughby pulled Marianne up to him and took her index finger in his mouth. She shuddered as his tongue worked its way enticingly around her finger, and her eyes began to glaze over as the wet heat of his mouth moved up and down.
“That feels … incredible,” she moaned.
He pulled back and she stared at him, confounded. “I would like you to do that to me … ” he gestured with his head “ … down there.”
Marianne followed his gaze down to his arousal and her eyes widened. “You mean … I can put it in my mouth?”
Willoughby laughed gruffly. “Any time you like, my Marianne.” It amused him that she was so enthralled by the prospect. Apart from the whores at the brothels in town, he’d never been able to convince a well-bred lady to perform this act on him. But his Marianne was different.
She moved down on the bed and knelt over him, her bare buttocks high in the air, and took the tip of his shaft into her mouth without hesitation. At that first taste, she moaned in delight and welcomed the length of him. He was delicious. She licked and sucked and teased, experimenting with her lips, tongue, hands, and even her teeth, and his answering groans grew louder in response.
Willoughby watched in awe, unsure which was more satisfying — the heavenly sensations being bestowed upon him, or the unbelievable fact that his woman seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was. She feasted on him hungrily, and after he reached completion, she wiped her mouth seductively and grinned at him like she’d just eaten the sweetest piece of pie she’d ever tasted.
The impossible had happened: John Willoughby was in love.
Yet, he dared not say it. Such a line should not be crossed carelessly, and he required more time to get his thoughts and feelings in order. He did not feel rushed, however, for he was certain there would indeed be nothing but time for him and his Marianne.
The couple made love three more times over the course of the afternoon, and reunited with the rest of their party before the sun was low in the sky.
• • •
Marianne and Willoughby both seemed delighted with their drive; but s
aid only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, while the others went on the downs.
It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, and that every body should be extremely merry all day long. Some more of the Careys came to dinner, and they had the pleasure of sitting down nearly twenty to table, which Sir John observed with great contentment. Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods. Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor’s right hand; and they had not been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, “I have found you out in spite of all your tricks. I know where you spent the morning.”
Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, “Where, pray?”
“Did not you know,” said Willoughby, “that we had been out in my curricle?”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, and I was determined to find out where you had been to. I hope you like your house, Miss Marianne. It is a very large one, I know; and when I come to see you, I hope you will have new-furnished it, for it wanted it very much when I was there six years ago.”
Marianne turned away in great confusion. Mrs. Jennings laughed heartily; and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they had been, she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr. Willoughby’s groom; and that she had by that method been informed that they had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there in walking about the garden and going all over the house.
Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, as it seemed very unlikely that Willoughby should propose, or Marianne consent, to enter the house while Mrs. Smith was in it, with whom Marianne had not the smallest acquaintance.
As soon as they left the dining-room, Elinor enquired of her about it; and great was her surprise when she found that every circumstance related by Mrs. Jennings was perfectly true. Marianne was quite angry with her for doubting it.