Posted on Tuesday, 29 January 2008

Colonel Brandon frantically paced the immense drawing room at Cleveland. He was deep in thought and hardly noticed Mrs. Jennings drone on about Marianne's misfortunes. If it was up to him her misfortunes would end here and now. Unfortunately it wasn't up to him, Marianne Dashwood was grieving for another and did he not know how strong a first love could be?

He turned on his heels when he heard Elinor enter the room. He sought her out immediately with the question how she was doing. Glad that he was she had recovered a bit, the final part of Elinor's answer took him by surprise.

‘She asked to see you, Colonel.'

The Colonel searched Elinor's eyes. Could it be true? Could she really want to see him? Even after what he had done just now? Elinor was looking at him with such sincerity that he nodded and made for Marianne's room. He hesitated in front of her door, recalling his last action before he had left her to her sister's care. So intent on fulfilling his mission he had actually started to undress Marianne. Granted, it was just the draw string but when she opened her eyes and looked at him he had realized what he was doing and had abruptly left. Now she wanted to see him.

Pushing the door open he entered. She was in bed, wan and pale but dry. Her eyes were huge and shimmering with unshed tears. With a compassionate smile he came closer and sat down on the bed unceremoniously. He had saved her and brought her in safety, would propriety dictate him to stay aloof? He put his hand over her hands and looked at her. Sadness, shame and gratitude all in one spoke from her eyes. No words were spoken between them. He wanted nothing more than gather her in his arms and press her against his heart but he could not do it, not yet.

He felt more than he saw that she pulled her hand from under his hand. With a soft touch she put it over his, caressing his hand ever so slightly. Colonel Brandon felt his heart swell in wonder, he dared not look at first but when he did it lay there, white and small over his. Then he heard a contented sigh and Marianne Dashwood had fallen asleep with his hand between hers.

Colonel Brandon remained seated for some time. He cherished the feel of his hand between hers. He felt as if he was on fire and for the first time since his acquaintance with Marianne Dashwood he felt he had received a gift. He had never sought to be rewarded; he had just tried to be there and offer what protection he could to these young ladies. He had tried to bury his feelings for Marianne when her affections went to another. But when he had charged through the rain, frantically riding to and fro, calling her name, he knew that these feelings went deep and were enduring. His profound relief upon finding her, alive, were further proof of that. He recalled her eyes fluttering open when he picked her up in the rain, huge with fear and resignation. He would never forget the long walk with his precious charge. And now, when he thought all hope had gone, - wasn't she grieving for Willoughby and wasting away? - she honoured him with a precious gift. By putting her hand over his Marianne had not just meant to thank him; it went beyond that - he was rewarded with her trust.

The End