Mansfield Park the Crawfords' Redemption

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  I have informed him of my decision and it has caused his health to take a turn for the worse, for his future must look bleak to him now. But I hope his reduced conditions will help him to think and to build a new and better life for himself. He will at least not lay hands on another woman, for I have promised him I will no longer protect him from justice, so he will land in prison if he sins again.'

  I will take you to his chamber now, Mr Crawford and Fanny, so that he can apologize, maybe you will be as good as to join us, Edmund? You were always the only one who had any influence over him. Miss Crawford, may I ask you to wait for us in the drawing-room?'

  Mary showed no triumph, but no sympathy either as she took her leave, eager to make her acquaintance with Susan.

  And thus they went to Tom's bedside, still in their traveling clothes, and Tom apologized for his abominable behavior towards his cousin, to both Fanny herself and to Mr Crawford, and as far as Henry, who could not see the big rat without a feeling of utter abhorrence, was concerned it was a sincere apology.

  There would be no more danger to Fanny from this cowardly lout, if he ever totally recovered from his sickness, for his breath rattled in his chest and his wasted body had not improved any in their five days' absence. So to keep the peace he accepted the apology gracefully, but not as gently as Fanny did. For he wanted Tom to realize that if he so much as looked at any woman, gently born or not, in the wrong way, he would find Henry Crawford well-prepared to re-issue the challenge, and this time with pistols.

  Henry could see the pain on Edmund's face, he still loved his worthless lout of a brother, and could find no joy in his elevation to heir at the cost of the man he had tried to look up to and failed for all his adulthood. How would someone like Tom ever find a purpose in life, how would he ever manage to keep himself fed and clothed? His prospects were bleak, but rather him than all his family and those who depended on it.

  Checking on Fanny's state of mind at facing her former attacker, he found her genuinely pitying the big brute. Well, he could understand, she knew what it was to have no prospects, to depend on another for everything, in a way she still would be, being married to him and living off his fortune. He hoped he had made it abundantly clear that to him they were equals, but he made a

  mental note to discuss this subject with her some time in the future. This was neither the time, nor the place to discuss finances, but he needed to tell her that she should never feel dependent on him for anything but love and attention, he had some ideas on that subject that he needed to share with her.

  They left the room, leaving Edmund behind with his brother and Sir Thomas.

  Edmund sat on the bed and held Tom's hand gently, still unable to comprehend why someone he had grown up with had been led astray without there being a single thing he could do to prevent it. He was a clergyman, for goodness sake, he was supposed to keep people on the right path, and he couldn't even save his very own brother.

  Tom pulled back his hand and said bitterly: 'So you're the heir now, Edmund.

  How does it feel to be finally removed from my shadow?' 'It feels awful, Tom,'was Edmund's reply, 'I would have preferred so much for you to rise to the challenge. I was raised a second son and I was well-prepared for a life without fortune or standing. That life had better fallen to me.'

  'Don't be a hypocrite, Edmund, what have you ever done for someone else?

  Or even to provide for yourself, you would have been pretty well-off without having to do anything for it. Our father arranged everything for you, he has always loved you more than he loved me,' Tom said with real venom, 'I could live without fortune as easily as you could if I had a family living to my name.'

  Sir Thomas hoped that Tom would soon lose the power to hurt his sensitive brother, for he did not like to see Edmund still the victim of his brother's earlier birth. Edmund has passed Tom in everything but age. But Edmund showed he had some strength in him: 'I have learned a profession and I have engaged the woman of my choice on merit of character, not on the promise of the estate I was going to inherit. You have learned nothing, except drinking, wenching and making debts. The conditions of life that used to be mine will make you as much a dependent on the charity of your father as Fanny used to be.'

  Sir Thomas nodded, glad Edmund had finally given as good as he got. He said to Tom in a serious manner: 'I advice you to learn a trade, as soon as you are better, for whilst you will always have a home with me, being my son and my responsibility, if you don't know how to take care of yourself by the time I die, you will be destitute or thrown on the mercy and charity of your brother.'

  Finally, some comprehension started to dawn in Tom's eyes. The venom left him, and he laid back on the bed tired and unwell.

  He pleaded: 'Father, you can give me the living Edmund was supposed to have, I can take orders.' But Sir Thomas was adamant: 'No, you cannot have Edmund's living, you are not suited to being a clergyman, I wouldn't trust you near a congregation for a thousand pounds. I can see you as a tradesman, once you've conquered your expensive habits. You're too old to go into the navy or the army, but you have a sharp mind, as long as you're sober, and excellent manners.'

  Tom closed his eyes as if in pain, he clearly needed his rest and time to recuperate and adjust to his new position in the family. But Sir Thomas was certain that his estate would fall into excellent hands, and he knew Edmund would not let Tom die of deprivation, nor suffer him to fall back into his old habits, so he decided to forget the entire situation for one evening and try to enjoy the company of his visitors. All too soon, they would break up the party and move to their new homes.

  Until he realized suddenly, that with Edmund the heir, he would not have to leave the house, he could stay there with his lady, and they would see more of him than ever, introducing him to the handling of the estate, the duties of the baronetcy. Tom had shown interest in neither, but he was sure Edmund would want to take up his duties as soon as possible.

  Life seemed a lot brighter to Sir Thomas, and when they had reached the drawing room, he was in as good a mood as he had been for a long, long time.

  Having realized Edmund's changed status, it became important to increase the size of his wedding, so the whole neighborhood would know Tom had no credit left with his parents, and that Mansfield Park had a worthy heir now.

  Though it was on short notice, invitations were sent to the most important families in the neighborhood, and accepted in good grace.

  All the preparations were made similar to a ball, extra staff was hired, and within days everything was in good order. Julia and the Rushworth's had arrived and been installed in their own rooms, and Mrs Rushworth senior had also been given a room within the house.

  Originally, Edmund and Miss Crawford were to have been married the day before Fanny and Mr Crawford, but since the importance and size of their wedding was now increased substantially, it was decided to reverse the dates,

  so Fanny's wedding would not be forgotten after the grandeur of Edmund's.

  Fanny and Henry didn't rue this at all, to dance at the ball already married was a really big bonus, and neither minded having only a ceremony and sharing the party the next day.

  And so it happened that approximately half a year after his initial proposal, Henry Crawford was finally joined in marriage to Miss Frances Price, against all odds, but to the intense joy of the couple and the satisfaction of all their relations. Well, all except Mrs Rushworth, who couldn't stand the sight of her skinny, colourless cousin next to the man she had admired with her whole passionate nature.

  But there was nothing she could do, she had chosen to marry a rich oaf, and even if she hadn't, Henry Crawford had not loved her, he had played with her to amuse himself as he had done with every female within his reach, until he fell head over heels in love with the most uninteresting girl who had ever walked the earth, giving himself totally and not even looking once, let alone twice, at any other woman for the whole duration of Maria Rushworth's visit, not even at herself.r />
  The only satisfaction left to her was that her husband was much richer than Henry, and that she had a house in the best part of London, but after just half a year of marriage that advantage of her mercenary marriage had already started to pall.

  No-one was happier to see the couple exchanging vows and an ardent kiss than Edmund Bertram. He had never suspected once that his cousin was desperately in love with him, and had avidly pursued his current intended, convinced that a distinct difference in temper was a requirement to form a happy union. He had since then been forced to rethink that conviction, for in retrospect he realized he could have been very happy with Fanny as his doting wife.

  But seeing her so happy with his valued friend, and seeing him more than happy, elated, he did not regret a thing, for with himself she would have always remained the shy, dependent girl, unable to find some zest in life, only striving for a quiet existence outside society. She had bloomed under the consequence Henry had given her.

  And Edmund could already discern a difference for the good in his own character, having become more tolerant and more open towards the world and the pleasures in it, due to the spirited and lively nature of his own Mary.

  It would stand him in good stead with his new life of being heir to the family estate, and his engaging and outgoing wife would do him even more good in the years to come.

  The ceremony was followed by a small celebratory party, with just the family present, a good dinner and some music made by Miss Crawford's harp and Miss Bertram and Mrs Rushworth playing the piano and singing. As one can imagine, the newly married couple retired early, and not to Fanny's old room, but to a luxurious guest room with a large double bed, which was from then on to be their own whenever they visited.

  Chapter 19

  It was to this bed that they moved now, shy suddenly, even Henry, who was usually so self-assured. Tonight he was going to reap the rewards of his faithfulness, of his selfless devotion to Fanny's happiness, through her initial indifference and the deepest despair.

  Fanny sat on the bed, still in her wedding gown, a simple affair in impeccable white, she hadn't wanted anything more grand for 'just one day', she would wear one of the three London dresses tomorrow, not afraid to outshine Mary, who did have a stunning white gown made.

  Despite the simplicity of her look, or maybe because of it, her innocence, her unaffectedness, Henry felt that same need to throw himself at her feet, to worship her, and this time, he did not check himself. With his dark-haired head in her lap, she felt an overwhelming memory of the months they had spent so close together, first in great need and near despair, later in ever growing familiarity and enjoyment, and only then in mutual love.

  The proof of his consistent love and selfless devotion to her had recommended him to her heart, until she could no longer think of life without him. Stroking his dark locks, she felt close to crying with the memories and her current happiness. As if he felt her state he looked up, a gaze fraught with the same memories, boundless love and...passion. She felt her heart skip a beat as he slowly moved towards her, still looking his intense love and his growing desire.

  There was no fear in her for this night of unknown happenings, she had felt the burning of lust, and she trusted Henry with her life. There was only excitement and anticipation of what was to come. He was sitting next to her now, and he lovingly and very gently removed all the pins and flowers and bows out of her beautifully arranged hair, and carefully put them away on the nightstand. Her hair fell down, for the first time in his presence, and he ran his hands through it with an almost worshipful touch.

  His hands were so gentle and so tender, not at all like the capable hands that she had often seen holding the reins of a spirited stallion, or carefully guiding

  his team through the traffic choked middle of London, passing on his utter confidence to the horses, telling them to trust him unconditionally. And yet, the feeling was the same, his hands told her to give herself up to him, to trust him in everything, and she did. With his hands still in her hair, he kissed her, as passionately and as deeply as he had ever done.

  Daring to allow the feeling now, her heat rose quickly, and she was soon gasping with need for him to touch her elsewhere, every part of her body that had been kept a secret from him for so long. He unbuttoned the front of her gown, and it fell open to reveal her corset underneath, and a glimpse of the bare skin of her breasts. He put his face in her bosom and kissed it, inhaling the scent of her newly uncovered skin.

  She wanted him to remove the dress, remove the corset, but she also wanted to see his chest revealed, she had touched it intimately several times in London, but she had never seen it, or kissed it, or tasted it. She started on his buttons, and soon had the front of his shirt open, his muscular chest exposed, and she took hold of him and buried her face in the little hairs covering it, smelling his very private scent, and reveling in the memory of it, the ultimate cause of her falling in love with him in their time together, the feeling of safety and excitement it had given her from the first time he held her.

  Thoroughly aroused now, Henry helped her out of the dress, and unhooked her corset expertly, a clear sign he was not as inexperienced at this as she was. As her unblemished white skin was revealed, Henry skipped a breath or two, too awed to touch her immediately. She took the opportunity to relieve him of his shirt as well, and soon they were in each other's arms without a stitch between them, feeling the other's warmth, mingling their smells, forgetting all passion for a moment in this comforting embrace.

  After what seemed a long time, Henry laid her down on the bed with reverence, and then finally touched her. He stroked her skin, over her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, and she shivered with feeling. He kissed her throat, and her breasts, then took hold of a nipple with his mouth, and sucked it gently. A shock flashed through her, bringing back the intense heat somewhere between her legs.

  He stroked her until he had felt every part of her upper body, and she did not lie back without touching him in return, she found all the places she had felt before, and caressed and stroked them again, sucking his nipples as well, and feeling her passion mount.

  They kissed again, and for a moment Henry was possessed by that violent passion again, holding her tightly, kissing her mouth greedily and groping for her breasts, and she was not afraid but thrilled, to finally see the part of him she knew he had but which he had never allowed to surface before her, and to get to know all of him.

  But it was not yet to be, for Henry was back in control within seconds, and he excused himself and went back to extreme tenderness.

  Checking a tiny feeling of disappointment, knowing she would have plenty of time to get to know this side of her beloved, she enjoyed the smaller caresses first, certain to get the bigger love later. As her body tingled with the unaccustomed caresses, and the feelings they evoked, she put her hand on his trousers. He froze instantly. Feeling it was her right now to explore some unknown territory, all the more so because she had never, ever seen what a man kept in his trousers, whilst Henry certainly knew what a woman's breasts looked like, she pulled him on the bed with her, and pushed herself up to kneel beside him.

  This was a surprise to him, he clearly didn't expect to be bossed by his gentle little maiden, and he relished it. He laid back to see what was coming next, still a bit overwhelmed by her sudden touch on his trousers. She touched them again, unbuttoning them and slowly revealing what was underneath.

  Another pair of trousers, smaller, softer, underwear, of course, why would men not have underwear?

  She knew how to remove underwear, and she guessed the trousers would come off as easily, so she took hold of both and slowly, tantalizingly moved them down, seriously curious now what would be revealed.

  There was more short, curly hair, she felt his firm behind beneath her hands as she pulled the trousers further down, and then they revealed what must be his man-part. It was quite large to be hidden in his pants all the time, and it looked as hard as polished wood, wi
th a smooth, round tip. Curious, she touched it gently and it was indeed very hard, but soft to the touch as well. It seemed to want her to hold it, so she took it in her full hand, and then a groan caught her attention.

  Her dearly beloved was holding on to his self-control for dear life, fighting his ardor, his eyes mad with lust now. She looked at him mildly and said:

  'Why not let it go, dear Henry, we're married now, remember? You're allowed to.'

  Her sweetness and innocence just crushed him, she had no clue what her

  fearless, almost naive touch was doing to him. He sat up, took her in his arms and laid down again, with her slim shape on top of him, and tried to explain:

  'I've not had release for my urges in months, love, if I let it go now it'll be over in seconds, and you'll be left with all your passion, wondering what happened. And I might even cause you pain in the process, your first time needs to be gentle, slow, not in the throes of my lust. You've seen it, you've touched it, will you trust me now so things will go right by you as well as by me?'

  His voice was so incredibly sweet and husky, that Fanny nearly cried with the intensity of her feelings for him. 'I will always trust you, love,' she replied,

  'you tell me when I can touch it, we'll have plenty of time to do anything that pleases us.' He crushed her against him, making her feel incredibly wanted and safe, and then he laid her on the bed again, and removed her underwear the same way she had removed his, gently but resolutely.

  When they were both totally naked, he started to stroke her feet, her legs, slowly moving upward to where that heated spot was starting to throb with expectation, taking his time, kissing her knees, stroking her inner thighs, until he touched the small patch of hair between her legs. His man-part was standing out from his body, he was back in control of himself, and taking his time to do well by her, as he had called it.

  His hand now touched the hair, fondling it, making her aware of another very sensitive spot beneath it, that gave her a flash of heat every time he touched it. The look in his eyes increased in intensity again, and he spread her legs resolutely. Then he kneeled over her, took hold of some part of her down there, spread it apart, and applied his tongue to the spot that had given her flashes when he touched it with his hand.