by Alexa Adams
There is nothing like a most disagreeable guest to render those only mildly so comparatively attractive. Thus the arrival of John and Fanny Dashwood, not far on the heels of their mother, was greeted with less feigned pleasure than might be expected. It was Fanny who suffered the most discomfort in the visit, having voiced so vociferously her opposition to the match now come to fruition. She and Elinor were necessarily destined to spend a considerable amount of time in each other's company, and, loath as one is to admit it, some credit is Fanny’s due for quickly referencing the vast quantity of compliments she regularly received for the pair of screens Elinor had made her. Understanding this as a peace offering, and Elinor not being one to expect more from such a quarter, the two were able to proceed in relative amity from that point on. Marianne occasionally joined them, the lure of Colonel Brandon's library drawing her forth to Delaford whenever she could contrive it, and she modeled her behavior upon her sister’s. While she could not so easily forgive as Elinor, her demeanor never betrayed her lingering resentment.
Elinor used the opportunity afforded by the Dashwoods’ visit to reaffirm her relationship with her brother, knowing it was what her father would wish. They often walked together in the mornings, when Edward's parish duties kept him occupied, and as Fanny was no walker, here was ample time for the siblings to share confidences. It was on one such occasion towards the end of his stay that John, as they passed by the gates of Delaford House, began the following soliloquy:
"I will not say I am disappointed, my dear sister. That would be saying too much, for certainly you have been one of the most fortunate young women in the world, as it is. But, I confess, it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon brother. His property here, his place, his house, every thing is in such respectable and excellent condition! And his woods! I have not seen such timber anywhere in Dorsetshire as there is now standing in Delaford Hanger! And though, perhaps, Marianne may not seem exactly the person to attract him, yet I think it would altogether be advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you, for as Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what then may happen. When people are much thrown together, and see little of anybody else — and it will always be in your power to set her off to advantage, and so forth; in short, you may as well give her a chance. You understand me."
Elinor had the grace to betray neither her own hopes in this direction, nor any shame for her brother. It was not until John renewed the subject with his wife on their journey home to Norland that his hopes received any encouragement
"I would not be surprised if that is precisely how matters unfold,” Fanny declared, having heard him out. “Our next visit to my brother will surely find us staying at the great house."
"But do you think Marianne could attract a man like Colonel Brandon? A year ago, perhaps, but having lost her bloom, I see nothing but the convenience of her company to entrance him. I have suggested to Elinor that she would do well to throw them together quite often."
"You miss a great deal, John! Marianne has fully recovered her looks, and with her disposition so vastly improved, I think her prospects better than ever. Her manners used to be impertinent — never a characteristic to endear a potential husband — but she has grown quite presentable. Furthermore, she seeks out the Colonel with surprising regularity, his library being her excuse. I am rather shocked your mother allows it, but she never was able to regulate the conduct of her daughters. Even were such advantages not hers, you must see that when any comely young lady sets her sights in the direction of an aging bachelor, one should not bet against her success."
John, as usual, was quite pleased to embrace his wife's perspective. "Indeed? I think you might be right, my dear. What a match! What timber! Did you take the time to properly observe the hanger?"
"Who could not? It is a vast deal more than Marianne has any right to expect, but I always did think your sisters would do well for themselves. I suppose we must have the entire family to Norland soon.”
“Yes indeed!” exclaimed John, allowing free reign to his most sanguine expectations.
Not long upon reaching Norland, Fanny received a letter from her mother, announcing her reconciliation with Robert. Her second son was penitent, and though the mere mention of his wife remained intolerable, she was inclined to be forgiving of his trespasses. John Dashwood was quick to fulfill his familial duties by passing the tidings along to Delaford Parsonage, where he felt certain they must be received with as much interest as he felt upon the occasion. In keeping with custom, he could not have been more wrong. Edward was not to be bogged down in the mire of his mother's fluctuating affections. Snug in his parsonage with a beloved wife, the eventual fate of the Ferrars fortune held little interest for him. Such contentment was not only a totally foreign notion to Mr. Dashwood, but were he to understand the matter, he would disdain to know it. One would be hard pressed to find two minds so different.
The onslaught continuing, the remaining ladies of Barton Cottage arrived on the heels of John and Fanny's departure, the need to collect Marianne being their excuse, which somehow required them to linger an additional week. Thus all the ladies were on hand to hear report of Robert's ongoing adventures. Though she had never met the man, nothing Mrs. Dashwood knew of him inspired her esteem, and she felt easy indignation at the favor won by an undeserving man instead of her own dear Edward. She took the issue up with Colonel Brandon when they dined at Delaford.
"Do you think it reasonable, my dear Colonel, that Mrs. Ferrars show such preference for her younger son? I hope I never betrayed such prejudices amongst my own children."
"Do you then admit to having them, Mama?" questioned Marianne teasingly.
"That is not what I meant, my dear," her mother gently rebuked. " If it were you, Colonel, would you not take a more active interest in your own welfare? I do not think I can be called mercenary, but to be deprived of one's birthright should not be borne."
"When the law ties one's hands, there is little to be done," he replied with a meaningful look. "Regardless, there is no law against a fickle temperament."
"Indeed there is not," said Elinor. "We are pleased that Edward and his mother are back on amiable terms, and if not being perfectly restored keeps our time together at a minimum, I shall not complain."
"Should I take umbrage at that? For I don't. It was very well said, my dear," Edward declared, lifting his glass in salute.
"You must be more than ready to see us off tomorrow," said Mrs. Dashwood in ready sympathy. "You have had so little time alone."
"You are always welcome, Mama, as you well know, and we will miss you when you are gone."
"That does not preclude being ready to say goodbye," quipped Edward.
"For shame, Edward!" scolded Elinor playfully. "And when I have just invited Marianne back in a month, too. You shall make her feel unwelcome!"
"In a month’s time my sister knows I shall be delighted to see her once more. Marianne is more likely to scold me for pretending I am ready to continue sharing my wife with all the world than for speaking truthfully."
"Quite right, Edward,” she applauded. “How well you know me! There is no need for pretense with such friends. Just as I have no hesitation in saying that I look forward with great zeal to again intruding upon your privacy. I will miss all the residents of Delaford."
"You shan't be quite rid of all of us," inserted the Colonel. "I am expected at Barton Park next week."
"Excellent!" Marianne exclaimed. "We shall have an opportunity to discuss the book you lent me."
Mrs. Dashwood caught Elinor ‘s eye and smiled.
**********
In the course of his life, Sir John Middleton had known little concern more pressing in his imagination than the fate of Marianne Dashwood. It was a heavy blow to watch a beautiful young lady — a relation, no less — fall into decline following an ill-fated romance conducted under his very own roof! Here was an item of such interest as to be frequently raised with many a
willing ear, but most often with his mother-in-law, who was as deeply interested as he. Miss Dashwood would recover, had already regained much of her former bloom, but only a new love could make all right again. Thus Sir John put even more energy than usual into gathering all the young people he knew together that winter. Surely, if they could only be gay enough, the right gentleman would come their way.
The Colonel frequently joined in their festivities, as he was often with them, but Sir John was convinced that the lucky gentleman would have to be in the same style as Willoughby, our young lady’s tastes being clear. Mrs. Jennings, on the other hand, must have retained some hopes for such a match — he was still rich, after all, and she was still handsome — for on one such festive occasion she suddenly remarked, "There, Sir John! You see this is the second time the Colonel has asked Miss Dashwoods to dance."
"Yes, indeed. Sad thing too! I'll speak to Brandon about not monopolizing her."
"You'll do no such thing, Sir John, if you will mind me. Perhaps there might be something there after all."
It took Sir John a moment to consider before responding, "I did once think that was where the wind blew, but now I believe Miss Dashwood sets her cap at Mr. Carey instead.” He laughed, “How she would scold me for using that expression! Perfectly charming!”
"Mr. Carey! What is a young scrub like him next to the Colonel?"
"He's a bruising rider. That must be to his advantage."
She dismissed his point. "Do not deny that it is just the match to make us all most comfortable! Why, she would be located next to a favorite sister, near her family, and mistress of a very pretty estate!"
"True, but I would hate to see Brandon disappointed again."
"By all means say nothing about it to anyone. I told myself I would make no more matches for the Colonel, as it never has worked out with him when I do." She winked conspiratorially, and Sir John put a finger to his mouth as an indication of silence, yet despite the best intentions of both, before the evening was out nearly everyone present was speaking of nothing else, and in tones loud enough for the objects of their conjecture to hear. When the Colonel said good-bye to the Dashwoods that night, Marianne, though polite, would not meet his eye. The damage was done: their easy friendship at an end.
**********
Marianne experienced a jolt of panic when she spotted the Colonel walking up the path to the cottage the next day, but rather than making herself scarce, as she might once have done, she steeled herself for what she fervently prayed would not be too painful an interview.
Having risen earlier than usual, she had strolled the downs at daybreak, trying to make sense out of the confusion of her thoughts. She regarded the Colonel in the light of a dear friend, with whom she need not feel the least reserve, and if she still retained some lingering suspicion that there was more than friendship on his part, she had not dwelt upon it before now. The rumors of the previous evening forced her to confront what she had been most happy to ignore.
Marianne Dashwood was not one to easily forgo her convictions. While Elinor might be able to lightly, and even rightly, dismiss her stance on second attachments as the romanticism of youth, it was no small feat for her sister to set aside a favorite belief. Such a change in philosophy as required by Marianne to love once more could not happen overnight, and while she admitted a great affection for the Colonel, her sensations towards him were so starkly dissimilar from what she had experienced with Willoughby that she truly did not recognize them as romantic.
As she walked, she pondered the nature of her affections and, while she knew it would be painful, resolved to reject the Colonel if he were to propose. She wished most fervently he never would, so as to avoid the pain and discomfort such a scene would necessarily entail. She could not help being struck by how very gratifying a marriage to Colonel Brandon would be to all her friends, particularly her mother and sisters, though they would never urge her to marry where she did not love. He would do far better finding a different woman to marry, she reasoned, for he deserved far better than what she, heartbroken, could ever provide. Taking comfort in martyrdom, she turned homewards, and by the time she reached the cottage had even determined to keep an eye out for an appropriate lady for her friend, though she disdained even the hint of matchmaking.
Fortunate for Marianne, as well as her future happiness, that the Colonel knew the lay of the land to an inch, having made a most thorough study of his sweetheart.
Mrs. Dashwood greeted her visitor with a glance at her daughter: a way of letting Colonel Brandon know that Marianne was not herself. He nodded in understanding, sitting down in his customary way and talking comfortably. Such behavior began to put Marianne at ease until Margaret said candidly, "When Mama saw you approach, Colonel Brandon, she thought you wanted to speak privately with Marianne, in order to discuss what everyone was saying last evening about the two of you."
"Margaret!" mother and daughter admonished together, but the Colonel only laughed.
Glancing at a blushing Marianne, he declared, "My dear friends mean well, but they really should stop making matches. I am a bachelor — a decrepit one, no doubt, but single nonetheless — and as such my friendship with your family must always be misconstrued. If I were not madly in love with Miss Dashwood, it would surely be the beautiful widow who had stolen my heart." Mrs. Dashwood laughed. "And perhaps you too, Miss Margaret, will someday know the privileged of being the next lady to whom Mrs. Jennings would have me play beau.”
The words were spoken lightheartedly, enough so to allow Marianne to regain her composure, but the look with which they were spoken told her so much more. She thought – though how could one be sure of such a thing? – that he had just openly declared his love for her. Even if said in jest: If I were not madly in love with Miss Dashwood…. Yes, Marianne felt convinced of his sincerity. The realization made her blush anew, but she saw he would never press her on the subject, or do anything that might jeopardize their ease together. How neatly he provided an escape from their uncomfortable predicament, and all without compromising himself in the slightest! Her overwhelming sensation was gratitude for his friendship. He continued to quiz Margaret, who was highly amused by the notion of having the Colonel as her suitor, and Marianne was overcome by an unbearable wave of sadness. She said a silent prayer that he would find a more worthy object for his affections, and, though she was not aware of it at the time, it was at that moment Marianne Dashwood fell in love with Colonel Brandon.
**********
Marianne knew not her affliction until she next came to Delaford. Business had taken Colonel Brandon to London.
"He may return at anytime," Elinor assured her, "and Edward and I will do our best to make sure you are well entertained."
"I have no doubt of having a very pleasant stay, Elinor. The Colonel's absence shall not be a detriment, I assure you, unless we mourn the loss of invitations to the manor house. His chef is very fine."
"I was not concerned about your palate, my dear, only you have become quite good friends with Colonel Brandon, have you not? I thought his presence was one of the attractions for you here."
"You underestimate yourself, dear Elinor! There is no one whose company I find more felicitous than yours," but even as she said the words, Marianne feared that they were not quite true.
Her visit to the parsonage at an end and still no Colonel Brandon to be found, Marianne was happy to accept her sister's invitation to return no more than a month hence. The master of Delaford was home when she arrived, and an invitation to dinner soon followed, but this would be the only night in which Marianne would enjoy his company, unexpected business taking the Colonel away again the very next day. When Marianne learned that he was unlikely to return before she was due to leave, her disappointment was acute enough to attract Elinor's attention.
"It is not like you to mope, Marianne."
"I am not moping, Elinor," she replied, determinedly turning the page of her book. "I am reading."
"Yes. I've
noticed what progress you make. Come now, and tell me what it is that troubles you. Since when were you one to guard your feelings so?"
Marianne blushed. "Since I learned how badly they can be hurt," she declared, choking on the words. Elinor put aside her work and went to her sister, sincerely repentant.
"I did not think, my dear Marianne, of how my thoughtless wording might sound to you. I am so very sorry!"
"Oh, I know you did not! I cannot say why I am in such dreadful humor," she took herself in line. "I certainly have no reason to be out of sorts, especially not with you."
"With whom would you prefer to be out of humor?" Elinor questioned cautiously.
She chortled, "I have a few choice words to say to dear Colonel Brandon, should he ever make himself available to hear them."
"Whatever has he done to invoke your ire? You seemed to be on fine terms last evening."
She ignored the question, rising to pace up and down the room. "Do you think he would intentionally avoid me?"
"Where in heaven's name did you get such a notion?"