But now it was clear that Miss Crawford intended an exchange of intimacies, and the prospect did not frighten Fanny as it always had before. She sat next to Fanny, took her hand in a sympathetic gesture and said feelingly: 'Can you see how truly happy Henry is, dear Fanny? My heart nearly broke when I saw him in such pain in the shrubbery just now, but it has all been worth it, he is so much changed for the better. I see that now. I thought he was perfect before, but you and your cousin have shown me how superficial and selfish we both were.'
So Edmund and Henry had been right, Miss Crawford could change to adapt to Edmund's moral standard, and Fanny had already seen Miss Crawford's influence on Edmund, he did have more life and more spirit. Miss Crawford expected her to say something, so she said: 'Miss Crawford, I hope you understand now why I couldn't give your brother my affection before. But he has been very good to me this last month, and I have come to love him very much.'
'Dear Fanny, can you please try to call me Mary? We are sisters now, soon to be related from both sides. Thinking back I know I have caused you a lot of pain, stealing the affection of the man you loved, pushing my brother on you, aggravating you with indecorous observations, but even then I knew your value and I respected you for it. I just didn't know any better. Being with Edmund constantly, really listening to him, has opened my eyes and given me a lot of inner peace. Knowing Henry to be in hands as good as the ones I am in now is such a relief, and a source of constant happiness to me.'
There was no way that this plea could not touch Fanny, for she really wanted Edmund to be happy with his choice, and Miss Crawford now proved she really did value him as he deserved. And having herself felt the advantages of being with a more passionate person, she had to admit that Edmund could use
some lessons in enjoying life and showing his feelings. So she replied: 'I will, Mary, for we are indeed sisters and I am determined to go on enjoying life as Henry has taught me. We are planning to come to London, where he will take me to concerts and the theatre, and he can be as gallant to me as pleases him.
And then we will marry and he can finally release all his passion on me.'
This frank statement clearly amazed Mary, and she observed with a glad smile: 'You really have grown, Fanny, I'm tempted to say that everything you have been through has been worth it, except that I was not the one suffering.'
Fanny could even smile over this lively comment, and she said: 'I would not have stayed the timid, self-deprecating creature I was for a million pounds.
What has happened is in the past, and I'm glad to be able to enjoy talking to you now, and to look at Edmund with the love cousins should feel for one another.'
Now Mary moved even closer to her, and whispered: 'Have you kissed my brother yet?' Even that question no longer shocked her, Fanny realized it was completely natural to compare situations when both engaged at the same time, and she replied: 'We have, just this afternoon, after my enlightening talk with Edmund.' She told Mary of the way Henry had held her daily to ease her grief, and how it had gradually started to waken feelings of passion in her, that she had not recognized as such until Edmund had pointed it out to her.
Here, Mary interjected: 'Dear Edmund, he keeps amazing me with his insight.
How could he have known? I objected to him taking orders, but when I first heard him preach I felt what a small and superficial person I had been until that very moment. It all comes so easy to him, being good. So Edmund made you realize you had loved Henry for quite some time already?'
And Fanny told Mary about Henry's accidental kiss sustaining her through a very difficult period, promising new and exciting sides to a world she thought had nothing in store for her.
Mary now showed some disquiet, and told her: 'Your cousin has not touched me even once. I am aching for it, but he is so much the gentleman that he will not even kiss me good night or hold my hand. I'm afraid he will wait until we are married, and that even then he will hold back for the sake of propriety. He is not a passionate man.'
This did not surprise Fanny at all, of course, and she observed: 'Henry would not have touched me either, if circumstances had not made it unavoidable.
And even then he admirably controlled himself. But I know that if I had not been in dire need, my passion would not have wakened either, my character
just doesn't allow it. And neither does Edmund's. Dear Mary, I'm afraid you will have to teach him to let go sometimes, or he will never know the joy of truly being alive.'
'You touch me with your kind observation, Fanny.' Mary spoke with great feeling, Edmund's coldness had clearly upset her, and Fanny said: 'I think you can safely impose on him a little, touch him casually, let him get used to the feeling. He must have passion somewhere, Henry told me it is much more profound in men. You just have to waken it, and carefully, so that he does not freeze. He touched me easily enough, asked me a very intimate question, too, then talked openly about physical love. I do think it is there, but it needs subtle stirring, he would like suddenly losing control even less than Henry did.'
Chapter 13
With her newly found confidence, Fanny already planned to give her cousin a few hints about the physical side of his relationship with Mary, the very first time he would talk to her with any privacy. Which she guessed would be sooner rather than later, for she could already see signs in him that he was approving of her intimacy with Mary, and looking for an opportunity to seek her out himself.
But first she sought out her newly found love, and stood behind him for a moment, resting her hand on his shoulder and listening in on his conversation with Sir Thomas.
The latter had by now sensed something had changed between the two of them, when they had returned from Everingham the night before he had found Fanny even more physically improved, very stable in her manners, almost outspoken and incredibly self-assured, yet not without her usual gentleness and general pleasantness, and both young people still painfully correct in their behavior to one another, not yet like real lovers.
Then this morning she had been nervous again, and Edmund anxious, even scared in his greeting of his parents. The young people had all met in the shrubbery, and Edward and Miss Crawford had returned in an excellent mood. And now his niece and Mr Crawford were different somehow, less correct but much more easy, searching the other out when separated and exchanging certain looks across the table, touching the other delicately when close. Dared he hope the deal had finally been struck? If so, he'd better start planning two weddings, hopefully both from his own house.
Henry and Sir Thomas had been discussing the weather and the progress of crops, and Sir Thomas clearly approved of young Crawford's knowledge of the situation on his own property. 'Miss Price and I have been checking on all my farms during our visit, and all the tenants were very pleased with the way things looked. I've seen several situations that may be improved on, but that will have to wait until next planting season,' Henry observed to his host. Sir Thomas was impressed, and he inquired: 'Wasn't that very fatiguing, dear
Fanny, sitting in a carriage all day?'
She was happy to reply in her sweet, clear voice, stronger now and less doubting: 'Oh no, Sir, we visited only a few farms each day, and we went on horseback, and took enough breaks to rest the horses and eat properly. Mr Crawford still takes very good care I eat well at every mealtime.' They exchanged a fond look, Sir Thomas was sure she had learned to love him from that look, and he silently congratulated himself, but said: 'Do you keep a proper lady's horse on your estate then, Mr Crawford, one suitable for my niece?'
Here, Henry could not suppress a triumphant smile, as he replied: 'I did not before, Sir Thomas, but it was my pleasure to have one found and purchased by my coachman as a surprise to Fanny when she visited Everingham. She needs the exercise and we found it very pleasant to combine both activities.'
And Fanny added: 'He is such a sweet creature, uncle, the grey gelding Henry got me. I never felt so safe as riding him, and yet he likes going fast, and taking obstac
les. Beautiful too.' She actually suppressed and urge to kiss Mr Crawford there, Sir Thomas was sure.
He said: 'That is a very valuable and attentive gift, young man, and I can clearly see my niece was very happy to receive it. Thank you very much for taking such good care of her.' Henry accepted this compliment with a polite bow, and they continued to discuss the value of a good horse, and lines of breeding, and other details that didn't interest Fanny very much, so she sought out her cousin, and found a very warm welcome at his side.
He took her hand in his, and looked at her with intense love, saying in a low voice: 'You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you two together, my dearest Fanny. He has exceeded even my wildest expectations in his care for you.' Though his obvious feelings for her did give her a little thrill, she felt no sadness, and she realized she felt honored that he showed his affection to her so obviously, when Mary experienced a lack of expression of his feelings to herself. It must be familiarity, he must be afraid to appear coarse or respect less to Mary, or maybe he was just shy towards his sophisticated fiancée.
'I have never been as happy as the last month Edmund, nor as sad,' she replied. His handsome face reflected the guilt he felt, and he asked: 'Can I hold you once more, Fanny, I feel so guilty about what you have been through. I never saw any sign of it, you must have been in agony daily, with me confiding in you, my feelings for Mary, my disappointments and triumphs, as well as her confidences and attempts to induce you to take notice
of her brother. I still feel for you. No wonder you couldn't eat, waiting for the axe to fall, all alone with your parents and siblings you hardly knew.'
As he spoke, he had taken her in his arms gently, and she returned his affection without any pain or hope for more. An enormous relief came over her, and she said: 'You couldn't have known, Edmund, I took the greatest care that no-one should ever find out, I was ashamed of myself and felt I looked above my station, hoping for you. Even with Henry and his fortune already at my feet.'
At this totally un-Fanny-like remark, Edmund shook his head and said: 'You have changed, Fanny, you were never spirited, and, I'm afraid, never really happy. You've even developed a sense of humor. I think I'm jealous, I can't seem to loosen up, except to you.
And you were never below my station, I'm only a second son, if it had occurred to me I would have been able to love you. But you would never have had the chance to find your sense of humor, or the self-confidence you exude now. How did you do it, change so much in just weeks, be happy whilst suffering so much?'
She did feel a pang at his allusion that he might have loved her, had he but known of her preference. But the dies had been cast, her affection was now devoted to another. She replied: 'I think it was the suffering that changed me, Edmund, I was always afraid to do wrong, to be inappropriate. And when I broke down in front of Henry, no-one in the hotel cared about propriety except Henry, and the staff and the doctor encouraged him to touch me, to hold me, in the interest of my health. And I stopped caring about propriety as well, only observing it where necessary to my virtue. I let go, Edmund, because I had nothing left but Henry's affection and support.
The person I loved most, the only person to ever care about me was lost to me, I had nothing left to live for, except Henry's promise to show me the world, his obvious love for me, and his unconquerable spirit.'
Hearing this was extremely painful to Edmund, and he hung his head in defeat, saying huskily: 'I should have been there for you.' 'What could you have done but give me more pain?' Fanny asked, 'you were most important to me yesterday, when you rose above decorum to help me find my happiness with Henry, even though it meant leading me through a very indecent conversation.'
Her humor again surprised him, and he looked up and said with sudden eagerness: 'Will you have another indecent talk with me, right now?'
Guessing what he wanted to discuss, she nodded, waiting for him to speak.
With the same ease with which he had embraced her repeatedly the last two days, he asked: 'Did he kiss you?' Fanny smiled broadly at his eager interest.
Surely, her upright cousin was not turning into a gossip? She replied: 'He did kiss me, yes.' 'Passionately?' 'Not as passionately as the first time, no. He was too much affected I think. He did later though. It was as profound as I remembered.'
Edmund could see the memory in her sweet face, her beauty truly blossoming now that she was finally loved as she deserved.
He wished she had told him about her love for him, he could have done so much more for her. But it was too late now, their fates were settled, and in a way it was for the best. With her being none too strong, the last thing she should do was marry a full cousin, for the children from such a marriage would be certainly be sickly. Sturdy, positive Henry was a much better choice for Fanny, and he certainly loved Mary to distraction himself, he was just so afraid to disappoint her, she was so used to fashionable people who talked freely, and he was so controlled and rustic. He had no idea what to do next.
'I haven't even touched Mary yet, Fanny,' Edmund admitted, 'I don't know how, I've never been with a woman before. What if she finds me inappropriate, what if I disappoint her?' Even though she knew it already, and had guessed at the reason correctly, it still affected her that Edmund, whom she had looked up to all her life, and after all that had happened, would ask her advice about love.
She thought for a moment and then said soothingly: 'She has as little experience as you, Edmund, and she esteems you. She wants to marry you even though you have no fortune and are in orders. Doesn't that say enough about her love for you? How can you think you could ever disappoint her?
Just touch her, Edmund, start small, take her hand, as you have taken mine so often, or embrace her, as you embraced me yesterday and today.
And when she answers your touch, you will feel the passion, I am sure. And then you let it out, just a little bit, a kiss, not a peck on the cheek, but a real kiss on the lips. She will not find you inappropriate, you could never be inappropriate. She wants you to find your passion, Edmund, please try to find it, it will change your life as it has changed mine.'
Relieved to have shared his insecurity, he thanked her, and promised to try his best. And after that, they talked comfortably about the date they planned
for their wedding, the sermons he was already holding, the lamentable state of her eldest cousin Tom, and of the parties Mrs Rushworth threw to amuse herself and her flashy friends.
Fanny hoped to see as little as possible of them when they were in London, the parties sounded infinitely stupid, and the people insincere. She felt a moment's worry about Tom, but since he was far away from home and she had no influence over him, hardly even knew him, she soon forgot all about him.
Chapter 14
Soon after lunch, she saw Henry leave the room with her uncle, and she knew they would be setting a date for their wedding, and discuss the terms of the marriage and the location and size of the wedding. She still didn't care, she just wanted to go on with her life as it was now, and liked the idea of being married to Henry, whose passionate nature she had seen glimpses of, and which she longed to call forth to finally meet his true self. She loved his controlled self, but she had a feeling she would love his undisguised nature even more.
Busy helping her aunt Bertram with some needlework, for the first time in at least a month, she saw Henry return and seek her out. He asked her to meet him in the shrubbery, so when the difficult part of the work was done, she handed it back to her aunt and said: 'I think you will find it manageable again, aunt Bertram,' and she got up to leave. But her aunt detained her for a short moment, to say: 'Thank you very much, dear Fanny. I have missed you, and not just because you are so patient at working out the really tiny bits, that I cannot see well anymore.'
Fanny was touched and smiled fondly at her aunt, then left for the shrubbery, where she found Henry awaiting her eagerly. They embraced ardently, and just enjoyed the other's closeness for a while, Fanny feeling totally free to re
lish Henry's familiar scent, and his firm upper body with the well-developed muscles of a sportsman. She really wanted to reach her hand under his shirt, but felt this was taking things way too far, so she merely ran it over his muscled chest and arms with his shirt still between his flesh and her hand, but even this gesture caused him to shiver with suppressed fervor.
He let out a deep sigh, and as he started to speak, his voice still sounded rather husky: 'Your uncle was very happy with my mission, and he suggested we set a date in one month, same as Edmund and Mary. He wants you to be married from this house, and excepting trips, would love for you to live here until the day of your marriage. He has extended his invitation to me for that period, which I was happy to accept. I may need to go to Everingham once in
that time, but I hoped you would accompany me on such a trip.' By now his voice was back to normal, no passion could survive so many dry facts, not even Henry's.
He continued: 'Edmund and Mary are to go to London with us until Mary's visit with the Frasers is up. Edmund will then move to Thornton Lacey, where she will join him directly after the wedding, and she is coming back to Mrs Grant to be close to Edmund until then. So we will be seeing them almost every day.
Will you be content to live at Everingham for most of the year, or do you want me to let it out and lease a property in this county, to be closer to your family? And do you want a house in town? And what about the wedding, I told Sir Thomas you'd probably want a small affair, did I guess correctly?
'Fanny embraced him and whispered in his ear: 'I really don't care, I'm happy wherever you are. And I don't think I can live in town for long periods of time. And you were right about the marriage, I don't care about the ceremony, so the fewer the guests, the quicker we will be together.'
This remark just did for Henry, he could not contain his elation hearing this from her mouth, after believing she would never love him, he had her to himself so absolutely. He kneeled at her feet, and laid his head in her lap, surrendering to her completely, his life so totally hers for the last months that he barely remembered the time when he liked to break a heart here and there.
Mansfield Park the Crawfords' Redemption Page 9