Beginning, Section II, Section III, Next Section
Chapter Twenty-Four
"She...She is where? You what?" Edward did not believe his ears.
"Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne are in London for the season. My cousin has informed me that Colonel Brandon is not in fact courting Miss Dashwood, but is desperately trying for the hand of Miss Marianne, who seems to show no interest at all. I am sorry, Edward. My sources were incorrect. It would appear Miss Dashwood has waited for you, just like you said. Fate has dealt you a new hand, my good man. I would suggest cashing in while you can."
"I...I...I...Eleanor must despise me!" Edward may perhaps have tried to put Miss Dashwood out of his mind in the past fortnight, but it was to no avail. He had almost convinced himself that Miss Dashwood had never cared for him, and that it was his heart alone that was breaking. Gladly, Gregory had been misinformed, and now his sweet Eleanor was in the very same town! "Where are they staying?" Edward demanded hurriedly as he headed for the door. He soon became confused as Gregory started laughing. "I-I fail to see the humor in this, Gregory."
Gregory mimicked Edward, "'She must despise me . . .! Where is she staying?' Is that an enticement?"
Edward grinned, "In this case, yes! Do you know where she is staying?"
"I'm sorry again, Edward. I wasn't told that. You might try finding out yourself; it should not be that hard. After all, you only have to search one city!"
Edward barely heard his last words as he swept out the door.
Fanny may be arriving at any moment...She should know with whom the Dashwoods are residing. Though...it is not likely she would tell me, knowing the relationship. I shall have to think of some way to wheedle it out of her...
Fortunately for Edward, he did not have to. At dinner that evening, the subject came about thanks to Mrs. Ferrars.
"John, I have heard that two of your sisters arrived a week ago for the season. Who is chaperoning this trip? Certainly not Mrs. Dashwood!"
"Certainly not, madam. I believe the Miss Dashwoods to be staying with a distant aunt of some sort."
"I suppose they are in Cheapside."
"No, actually. They are residing with Mrs. Jennings, a middle aged woman of some fortune. I believe them to be in the North end of town. Along Berkeley Street."
Much to his mother's chagrin, when John volunteered this information Edward's knife slipped and scraped the china, causing a horrid noise. After looking up at his brother-in-law, then to his mother-in-law with caution, John addressed Fanny. "We should visit them some time in the next week, Fanny. We are family, after all."
Edward noticed Fanny turn red and become flustered. It was obviously not an appealing idea to her.
"Oh! I do not think it possible this week, John. I have so many things planned, and so many friends have already promised to visit, that I would deplore leaving the house and thus missing a guest! I plan to have people coming and going from the house quite frequently for the next two weeks at least!"
"Perhaps another time, then."
"Yes... Perhaps..."
Chapter Twenty-Five
After discovering which home was Mrs. Jennings', Edward called on them, only to find them out and gone for the day. He left his card and two days later returned.
"Yes, sir?"
"I-I am here to see the Misses Dashwood i-if they are in."
"Are you expected, sir?"
"Ah...no..."
"Who shall I tell them is calling?"
"Oh, ah...Mr. Edward Ferrars."
"Follow me, please."
Edward obeyed, and stopped when they reached the parlor door. As the maid went in to announce him his spirits soared, simply from knowing that Eleanor was in, that his eyes might once more look upon her. His nervousness was still present, however, though he did not think that would ever cease until he was assured of their attachment, and the termination of his with Lucy.
The maid immediately returned, having announced him, and he strode in very quickly, to prevent his nerves from failing and running out of the room.
"Mr. Ferrars," Eleanor curtseyed beautifully.
A wave of memories from Norland swept over him . . . The stables, the tree house, listening to Marianne play the piano. . . A warmth spread throughout him, and he repressed the urge to take her into his arms. Upon closer inspection, though, Edward was appalled to notice the changes in her.
She has changed...! Dear, sweet Eleanor has lost some of her color! She is frailer than I remember her... But she is still as beautiful as the last time we met... Will not she always be?
He smiled hesitantly as he spoke. "Eleanor, I-I must te-"
"Mr. Ferrars," Eleanor interrupted.
What is wrong?
"You of course know Miss Lucy Steele," she finished.
What? Lucy? Edward turned in the direction that Eleanor gestured, and to his dismay, saw the very creature that he wished farthest from him. His soaring spirits were shot down.
"Y-Yes, of course...How do you do, Miss Steele?" He could not imagine how the words escaped his lips, for they were miles from his thoughts. He haltingly remembered to bow, and Lucy made some reply that his mind did not receive as she cast him an adoring look. He was startled back to the present when Eleanor offered him a chair.
"N-No, I...I can not stay long."
A few moments of silence elapsed before Eleanor began talking again. "Mrs. Dashwood remained at Barton with Margaret, and they are doing very well."
Where are your manners? You should have asked, not made her volunteer!
"E-Excellent, I am glad to h-hear it." I should sit down. It is only polite. I may still leave in fifteen minutes.
"I am very happy to see you, Mr. Ferrars. We regretted having missed your call on Tuesday."
"I-I thank you." I believe I am causing some mischief by being here. Miss Steele is glaring at Eleanor.....
"We are here at the invitation of Mrs. Jennings, our relative."
Edward inwardly groaned. I should have said that, as well! She is making all the conversation, yet I cannot open my mouth!
"Uh....Yes, I had heard that. It is very fortunate."
Silent minutes ticked by with Lucy very much enjoying being the cause of discomfiture.
Eleanor spoke again. "Marianne would not forgive me if she knew you were here and I had not summoned her. I shall fetch her at once. Pray excuse me for a moment."
Edward watched Eleanor's retreating figure in despair. Do not go! Do not leave me with Lucy! I beg of you! But his thoughts were not voiced, and telepathy was of no use. Eleanor softly closed the door, leaving Edward in the lion's den alone. The urgency in his eyes turned to a look of uncertainty as he nervously perched on the edge of his chair, eyeing Lucy, who was bluntly sizing him up.
They sat in silence some time before Lucy finally broke the silence. "I did not know that a few weeks' acquaintance was enough to promote a social call," she sniffed.
You forget that I was staying with them. It could not be avoided, seeing them everyday, even if I wished it, which I didn't.
"Will you not say hello?"
"H-Hello..." he said hoarsely.
"I have met with the rest of your family.....at the party...I wondered that you were not there." Her manner was snobbish.
"I-I had previous engagements which could not be broken." He wished to continue and, if not tell her that he loved only Eleanor, at least.... at least...
"Your sister has asked Anne and I to stay with her for a week. She says John is no company and that she longs for just the sort of female companionship that I provide." Lucy was now primly picking at some invisible speck on her white kid gloves.
Miss Steele, you will injure your neck if your nose raises in the air any further.
"I am very glad to hear it," Edward mumbled instead.
More silence ensued, Lucy sitting primly and preening herself, Edward playing with his nails and running his hand through his hair. Five more minutes passed in silence before Eleanor finally returned, putting him out of his misery. Behind Eleanor, in ran Marianne, extremely faded and sickly looking, but as buoyant as when he first met her.
"Dear Edward! This is a moment of great happiness! This would almost make amends for everything!"
"H-Hello, Marianne! I am very happy to see y-you again at long last."
More silence followed, yet again, before Marianne began chattering. "Why did you not come visit us at Barton?"
"A-Alas, I had business to attend to here in London."
"Have you been in London all this time?"
"My visit is long overdue, but I....I promise to make amends after the season. Unfortunately, I have no been able to...to leave London since I left N-Norland, and your company."
"Oh! How dreadful! You do hate London so!" They had all sat again by this time.
"But Marianne, have you been unwell? You are much paler than last I saw you!"
"Oh! Do not think of me!" she cried in earnest. Edward feared she would weep when he saw her eyes begin to tear. "Don't think of my health! Eleanor is well, you see. That must be enough for us both." Marianne reached behind her to hold her sisters hand, though her other hand remained on Edward's forearm.
Edward caught the sisterly gesture that Eleanor exercised, trying to halt Marianne, who only gave her a disdainful glance and was about to continue when Edward interrupted her.
Anything to change the subject, please! I am in agony!
"Do you like London?" he forced a smile.
"Not at all. I expected much pleasure in it, but I have found none. The sight of you, Edward, is the only comfort it has afforded; and thank heaven! You are what you always were!"
What am I to say to that? Will not Eleanor speak? Even Lucy?
"I think, Eleanor," Marianne began after what seemed like an eternity. "we must employ Edward to take care of us in our return to Barton. In a week or two, I suppose, we shall be going; and, I trust, Edward will not be very unwilling to accept the charge."
"Please, dear Marianne, no more in front of her. No more!" he muttered, inaudible to everyone but himself.
Thankfully, Marianne took it as granted that he accepted, and changed the subject. "We spent such a day, Edward, in Harley Street yesterday! So dull, so wretchedly dull! But I have much to say to you on that head which cannot be said now."
Edward was not unaware of Marianne's pointed look towards Lucy.
Marianne, please! You are helping none!
"But why were you not there, Edward? Why did you not come?"
"I...I was engaged elsewhere."
"Engaged! But what was that, when such friends were to be met?"
"Perhaps, Miss Marianne," Lucy finally piped up, obviously fuming, though controlling it well, "you think young men never stand upon engagements, if they have no mind to keep them, little as well as great."
Edward could feel his neck, ears, and face turning red at Lucy's comment. She was no longer the only incensed person in the room. Quickly glancing up from where his eyes had fallen to the floor, he saw the slightly agitated creases in Eleanor's forehead grow deeper.
Marianne naturally ignored Lucy's maliciousness. "Not so, indeed; for seriously speaking, I am very sure that conscience only kept Edward from Harley Street. And I really believe he has the most delicate conscience in the world; the most scrupulous in performing every engagement however minute, and however it may make against his interest or pleasure. He is the most incapable of giving pain, or wounding expectation, and the most incapable of being selfish, of anybody I ever saw." Edward was blushing to the extreme, his "delicate conscience" hard at work. "Edward, it is so and I will say it," Marianne persisted. "What! Are you never to hear yourself praised!--Then, you must be no friend of mine; for those who will accept of my love and esteem, must submit to my open commendation."
I can bear this no longer! I must away. I have overstayed the shortest polite time, and now I may leave without being considered rude. Upon determining so, he rose to take action and leave.
"Going so soon!" Marianne stopped him. "my dear Edward, this must not be."
Edward was immediately pulled slightly aside as Marianne hissed, "Lucy has stayed past a polite visit, she must go soon!"
"I am afraid I cannot stay," Edward explained. "I am on a...a commission from Fanny, and must stop by Mr. Wallis' shop on my way home. Fanny will be expecting me shortly."
"You will call again, will you not?" Marianne demanded.
"I...I will when time permits, yes. Goodbye Miss Steele... Miss Marianne... Miss Dashwood." He bowed respectfully, his eyes lingering on Eleanor.
I have caused her much pain this day. I must be sure of Lucy's absence when next I call.
After the proper civilities, Edward took his leave, thankfully escaping from the torture chamber.
As he strode down the street, he pounded the umbrella he had long ago learned to carry about London, on the cobblestone streets, accenting every left step.
What is Lucy doing in London? She said nothing of coming to London with Mrs. Jennings! How could she behave so rudely in front of Eleanor and Marianne? Has she less manners than I thought? I would not have thought that possible of anyone!
"Mr. Ferrars!" a voice hissed, somewhere to his left. He decided he had imagined it, and continued on. "Edward! Edward Ferrars!" The voice was slightly louder now, and he whirled to the left only to see a most wretched face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"You are a very fast walker, Mr. Ferrars."
"I-I am in an extreme hurry, Miss Steele," Edward said coldly.
"Oh, Edward," Lucy cooed, taking his unoffered arm. "If I did not know you as well as I do, I would be jealous of the scene that played with the Dashwoods. You must have gotten to know Miss Dashwood very well to call her by her Christian name...You do not even call me by my Christian name."
Edward could feel his muscles become tenser with every passing word.
"But I know you are as constant as the sun rising every morn', so I need not worry."
Edward adjusted his cravat uncomfortably and tried to disengage his arm from hers. It is not right that we be seen like this, and she should, above all, not be calling me by my Christian name in public, regardless of my calling the Misses Dashwoods by their names.
"Miss Steele, I must turn off here. I am on a commission from my sister, you must remember."
"Oh, that is of no consequence. I shall wait."
"This is a very large order and will take quite a lot of time. I would not wish to inconvenience you."
"Poor Edward! I shall keep you company, then, so that you are not so very bored."
Edward gave up and entered the small store. He handed the slip of paper with Fanny's instructions on it to the keeper.
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
"Uh.. Yes... please..." He looked around frantically for something else to purchase. Powder... Quills... gloves...
"Sir?"
"Oh...uh...yes...I need, uh...I need York tans..."
"What size?"
"Uh...small?"
"Color?"
"Um...ah...Grey? Do you have grey?"
The old clerk raised an eyebrow. "Grey is last year's fashion, sir."
"Yes...well...Fanny insists...She-She must have her grey York tans..."
"I'll see if I can find anything in the store room...."
"Thank you."
Ten minutes later, the clerk returned with a pair of grey York tans.
"Last pair we had, sir."
"I thank you..."
"Will there be anything else?"
"Do...Do you carry food items?"
"Yes, sir. A few..."
"Do you have...Ah...peaches?"
"Peaches, sir?"
"Yes. I believe my sister wishes to have the cook make a delicacy...."
"I will have to check on that, also."
Once he left, Lucy began chattering. "Your sister certainly wants strange things. Grey York tans!"
Half an hour later, Edward had spent ten pounds on grey York tans, peaches, powder, quills, ink, and parcel wrappings. He had also bought Kelly green and fuchsia hat ribbon, and brown pheasant feathers to go with the ribbon, by Lucy's advice. Also purchased were five excessively tall, bluish gray wax candles, and an arrangement of flowers, along with Fanny's original list.
"Would you like these delivered, sir?"
"Yes, please..." Edward mumbled. Spending the money had been a waste. Lucy had patiently waited for him, and was now prepared to have him walk her to the jewelers. He scribbled down the town house address, gave it to the clerk, and slowly left the store with Miss Steele in tow.
"Will you walk me to Palmer's now, Edward?" Lucy asked.
"I...I am afraid I can not. I promised Mr. Drakely I would be at his home by half past three. It is now...three and ten. Good day, Miss Steele." Edward hurriedly tipped his hat and took his leave. He had not made any plans with Gregory, and in actuality it was really only three o'clock, but at that point, Edward would have done anything to escape.
Blasted female! Why must she insist on tormenting me? What have I done to deserve such cruelty?
Edward took a few breaths and slowed his pace.
I must be fair. Lucy is evidently still in love with me. Still in love with me after...
"Six years?" he asked aloud. A few heads turned and looked at him curiously as he continued on his way. Why? I am not a handsome man...I am not entirely sure of my inheritance, if I break the news that we have been engaged...I-I...I stutter, for pity's sake! I cannot get one sentence out without a repeated syllable!
The other half of his conscience spoke up, That's not entirely true, Edward. You were a proficient speaker those weeks at Norland!
"Norland..." Edward spoke aloud again, and almost slowed his walk to a crawl. He stood there a moment, contemplating, when he felt something wet against his skin; it was beginning to rain.
Blast! How far is Drakely's? Looking up at the nearest house number, he realized he had passed Drakely's home a block ago. Blast...! At least I have the umbrella. He opened the intrusive black umbrella as it began sprinkling more, and walked hurriedly back to Gregory's townhouse. As it began to pour, he reached the doorstep and entered.
"I cannot go see her again; she must hate me. I would not blame her, either."
"If she has waited this long, she most certainly does not hate you."
"How am I to show my face again, after the scandal today? If I were her, I would not want to see me again."
"But you are not her."
"I cannot embarrass her any more."
"Then perhaps you should go to make amends."
"You are right...As ever. I will return at a time when I know Lucy is with my sister. I must explain to her."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Edward? Edwaaaard!" Upon entering the Ferrars townhouse, Edward was accosted by Fanny's voice calling to him, somewhere in the vicinity of the library.
Edward sighed and made reply. "I am here, Fanny!"
"Edward! There you are!" she exclaimed pleasantly, as she rounded the corner to greet her brother.
Fanny's cheerful demeanor did not fool him for one moment. What is she about?
"Edward, I have the most wonderful news for you!" she exclaimed, looking very proud of herself.
"Fanny. . ." Edward said warningly. "What have you done?"
"Why. . .what ever do you mean?"
"You can not fool me, sister. You look like the cat that has got the canary."
"Oh, no. Nothing, really. I just wished to inform you that a certain young lady will be dining with us this evening," she was obviously deciding to make him beg for the information. When Edward turned to McDougal to remove his great coat, ignoring his sister, she decided to give him little hints. "It is someone we both know well and love. . . from long ago!" her voice was singsong, and very irritating. "Your. . . childhood sweetheart?" she giggled in delight.
"No!" Fanny had Edward's attention, now. "Inger- I mean, Miss Morton?"
Fanny nodded smugly, but noticed her brother's devastated countenance. "Oh, Edward! I thought you would be happy! You were well nigh gone for her in your childhood!"
"On the contrary, I assure you!" Edward had despised Miss Morton since the first day they met, over twenty years ago, though Fanny always insisted on referring to her as his 'childhood sweetheart.'
Robert and I poked fun at her mercilessly as children! She was a pudgy, piggy faced child with yards of red curls, who always referred to me as 'boy,' though I am . . .I think two years her senior. She was rude and wild. Not of the sort I would wish to renew my acquaintance with! I only thank the Lord that she moved away when she did. Ten years was enough!
"Oh, come Edward! She's really not all bad! I am sure you will find her much altered! I know I did! We met at the jewelers. Robert went to pick up his toothpick case, you know, and there she was, just as sweet and lovely as could be! Ingrid was purchasing a clip for her dear brother."
Edward began walking towards the stairs to his room, and Fanny trailed him.
"Her father, you must know, has passed on, leaving Miss Ingrid with 30,000 pounds! She is quite wealthy, now! Her father left things in such a lovely state as to provide for both of his children, the rest of their lives!"
"That is very fortunate for them," Edward muttered, loosening his cravat.
"Brother. . . They will be here shortly. . . I expect them in the better part of an hour. . . Edward . . . you will be. . . more. . . beau material, won't you? Try? For mother and myself? We would so like to see you settled, and planting some roots. We may not always show it, but we do worry for you, Edward. You are after all, my brother. . . and Miss Morton would be a most advantageous match on both sides!"
"Of course, Fanny," Edward reached his door. He would have perhaps been more touched by his younger sister's last speech if only he had not known she did not mean it. Mrs. Ferrars and Mrs. Dashwood wanted Edward married to take him out of their hair, keep him out of trouble, and bring more noble contacts into the family.
"What are you about, Edward?" she peered into the tidy, cobalt blue room.
"I-I am going to change, Fanny. The roads were quite dusty, and I do not believe you would think it quite proper to greet our dinner guests in dirtied attire."
"Oh. . ." Fanny pulled her head back, and checked her prying. "Very well. I shall see you at dinner, Edward." With that, Fanny turned on her heel and left, presumably to bother the cook.
As Edward changed he thought about Inger-Ogre, and days past. . . Days past when he and his brother were bosom friends, teasing her and pulling her curls. . . Before his father died. Robert was only ten when Mr. James Ferrars passed on, and was easily corrupted into Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars' beliefs, actions, and thoughts.
"Father, do we have to?" a ten year old Edward pleaded.
"Inger-Ogre is mean! She always calls me a baby!" Little Robert whined.
"Well she always calls me 'boy,' as if I were her servant!" Edward scoffed.
"Now, boys!" James Ferrars said sternly, pulling a boy onto each knee. "No more of name calling, do we understand each other? I expect you to behave yourselves! Your mother and Mrs. Morton are dear friends, and it is only fair that you be nice to little Ingrid, and make a good impression. Why don't you run off and play with her older brother, and leave her alone?"
"We can't!" Robert piped up. "Donald is off to boarding school!"
"Father? Will I have to go to boarding school?" Edward asked.
"Someday, lad. But not for awhile, yet. Not until you're older," Edward's father chucked him under the chin. "Now, go get little Fanny and take her to your mother in the entryway. Don't keep her waiting, now! And be good. I'm counting on you, Edward," he said, as he looked him in the eye, "to be responsible, act like the good boy I know you are, and take care of this little devil Robert," he rumpled his youngest son's strawberry blonde hair, who was grinning from ear to ear, and turned back to Edward. "That is a very large commission, can you do it?"
Edward nodded solemnly. "Yes sir."
"Good. Ingrid and the Mortons will be leaving permanently in another two weeks, so do try and be nice. Now you two run along and have fun." Mr. Ferrars brushed them off his knees, and patted their bottoms to get them going. Edward and Robert shared a brotherly glance that could only have one meaning. They raced each other out of the library door and up Fanny's bedroom, where she was playing dolls with her nurse.
"Last one to mother is a rotten egg!" Edward yelled as he popped his head in, and left running again.
Fanny dropped her doll and chased after her brothers. "That's not fair! Edward! Robert! That's not fair! You had a head start, and I'm younger than you!"
"You are not younger than me, Fanny, and I am still beating you!" Robert called back up the stairs as he and Edward paused on the landing. When Fanny caught up, they all went clattering down the last flight of stairs and came to a screeching halt in front of their mother.
Once the three children had been lectured severely on acting like proper gentlemen and a lady, they continued on their way to the neighboring estate, that of Green Meadows.
"I will not play with you! Boys smell, and you are boys!" Inger-Ogre said royally as she flounced to her child-sized chair in her nursery, red curls of hair bouncing wildly.
"Very well! We tried to behave nicely, did we not Robert?" Edward asked.
Robert's response was an affirmative nod of the head that was so vigorous, it might have broken his neck.
"Let's go catch bullfrogs down by the pond, then. Perhaps Ingrid and Fanny would like them as company!"
Fanny cried out as if she had been wounded, and Edward took his remark back.
"Oh, all right. Fanny, you can come along with us if you like. Ingrid may have all the bullfrogs!"
"No!" Ingrid cried. "Fanny! You must stay and play dolls with me!"
Fanny looked from her brothers to Ingrid and back again, and reluctantly picked up a doll. Edward hated to see his sister suffer from the likes of Ingrid.
"Oh, fine!" he sighed, exasperated. "Robert and I will stay and play so long as we are not forced to play with dolls!"
Terms of staying were agreed to, and they all played 'house' the remainder of the day. Once. . .or maybe four or five times, Edward caught Robert about to pull Ingrid's hair from behind, but sent him a brotherly warning signal, telling him to behave. Once. . .or perhaps on numerous occasions, Robert provided the same service for Edward, who was about to hide one of Ingrid's dolls, or cause some other mischief as well.
Robert could have been so many things. He always was a good child. Mother got the best of him, I suppose. . .If father had been there through Robert's teenage years, I wonder if he would have turned out quite so. . .so much like mother and Fanny.
I suppose it to be the same with Fanny, as well. She was always more influenced by Mother than Father, but Father still kept her in check. . .
Lord knows I could have been a much better older brother, but I had no idea what to do. I was suddenly man of the house, and in charge! So I let mother take over while I went to school. . .
I still wonder that father showed no signs of unhealthiness except for the occasional gout. Out grooming Jones when he had an apoplexy. . .
Jones was a magnificent stallion. . .Funny how animals. . . How Jones seemed to lose his life when father lost his. . .Jones didn't last much longer than a year after that. . .
Still, I should have been there for Fanny and Robert. I should have tried to guide them more; help them like father would have. Fanny has not had much to change from, but everything about Robert has changed. Even his hair color! Odd that his hair would have darkened to be more the color of mine . . . . Though he still looks very much like mother. Fanny looks precisely like Mother did at that age, according to her portraits. I wonder that I look so much like Father. . .
I had hoped, in time, I would be able to become as great a man as he was. Even half so great would suffice. Unfortunately, I do not think I have succeeded. . .
"Sir?" A maid interrupted his reverie.
"Yes, Marie?"
"Sir, the guests are arriving."
"Oh, thank you, Marie." Edward hurriedly tied his cravat and went downstairs, into the lion's den.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Edward!" Donald exclaimed. "It's great to see you, old boy!"
"H-How are you, Donald?"
"Oh, fine! Fine!"
"How long has it b-been? I believe the l-last time w-we met it was in K-Kent, almost ten y-years ago."
"Too long, Edward--too long!"
Edward now turned his attention to Inger-Ogre. "Good e'en, Miss Morton. It is a pleasure to meet you again after such an extended period of time."
"And you sir."
Is this truly her? This does not look like Inger-Ogre of sixteen years ago! Her carrot hair has deepened into a more subdued auburn. She is almost delicate, and much less. . . Stocky. . . If it were not for her strikingly green eyes, she would almost be the picture of. . . The other half of his conscience reprimanded him, No, no one could ever look like her. . . Eleanor is unique. Miss Morton's looks are fashionable, true, but they will not last. Eleanor will be beautiful at five and seventy. Miss Morton will look five and seventy at five and forty. . .
"Edward!" Mrs. Ferrars was talking to him.
"Y-Yes?"
"Edward, please escort Miss Morton into dinner."
"Oh. . . yes, with. . . pleasure." Edward offered her his arm, and they adjourned to the dining room.
Miss Ingrid Morton proved to be a very good conversationalist, and Edward found himself to be enjoying her company, despite himself. The evening was the most enjoyable Edward had experienced since his weeks at Norland, and after dinner, Miss Morton even played a piece on the piano and sang a duet with her brother; they both proved to be most talented. In two days time, the Mortons' were to dine with them again, as the Drakelys' and Lord and Lady Harrison were to be there, with their daughter Louise, who had been a Norland when Fanny had held her socialite tea party.
When the appointed day came, however, Miss Harrison was monopolized by Robert Ferrars, leaving Edward alone with Ingrid. There was easy conversation between them, but no spark of admiration. Each regarded the other as a dear childhood friend, but neither had any sort of fixed romantic attachment planned. Unfortunately, Fanny did not agree. She was positive that Ingrid was in complete adoration of Edward, and began asking him when he meant to propose. He, of course, has no intention of doing so, for though his hand belonged to Miss Steele, his heart belonged to one and only one woman. The very woman he was planning to visit, after one week's absence, the very next day.
The morning of his visit, Edward has errands to run about town before his visit. He had stopped by the general store, the blacksmith's, and the bakery before returning home for luncheon, and leaving to call upon the Miss Dashwoods. Or rather, Miss Eleanor Dashwood. As Edward rounded the corner his home was on he heard a loud, ear-shattering shriek coming from the downstairs window that sounded like. . .
"Fanny!" Edward yelled as he bolted into the house, ran down the short corridor, and threw open the parlor door. A table was knocked over with feathers scattered everywhere. Fanny was on the floor attacking something...a someone!
"F-Fanny! Fanny, what in the devil?!" He was aghast. Edward pulled his sister off her object of anger, not in the least an easy task. Fanny slapped his face, clawed a his cheeks, pounded on his arms, and pulled his hair before he finally gained control over her arms and forced her to sit down. Who he saw, mangled, disheveled, and sobbing on the floor was none other than one Miss Lucy Steele.
"Edward!" Lucy cried.
"Do not call him Edward!" Fanny bellowed as she jumped up from the chair Edward had deposited her in and ran to attack Lucy again. Edward held her back and forced her to sir down. He helped Lucy up from the floor where she still lay and sat her in the chair opposite Fanny, while Edward sat in the middle on the window seat, ready to restrain either at a moment's notice.
"Sir? Is everything all right?" McDougal popped his head through the door.
"Why the devil weren't you here sooner?" Edward demanded. "Where is everyone? Where is Marie? She should have been here to stop this!"
"Pardon us, sir. Marie is here," McDougal said, opening the door wider to show the shaking, pint-sized maid. "When she 'eard the scream she ran to find me, just down the street, before coming in 'ere."
"And where is Mrs. Ferrars?"
"Sir, last I knew she was takin' 'er usual noon rest."
"Thank you. Marie, you may return to the kitchen. McDougal, I'd like you to stand at the door. If you hear any more shrieks, come in to save me."
"Yes, sir. It be alright if I walk Marie back to the kitchen, sir? She's had quite a fright."
"Yes, yes. Go ahead."
After McDougal had gone and closed the door, Edward surveyed both women.
Fanny was fuming and red in the face. Her body was tense, and she looked as if she might explode any moment.
Lucy was sobbing loudly, cowering in her chair. Much to Edward's chagrin, he noticed the handkerchief in her hand was none other than his own.
Lord. . . Lucy would not be so daft as to tell Fanny of our engagement, would she? Oh, Lord, please. . . The knots in his stomach grew tighter, knowing that it must be so.
"S-S . . . Ladies. . ." he said slowly and awkwardly. "Why don't we try to talk about this as civilized adults. . . ? Fanny, w-would you care to share what happened."
"Edward!" she stormed. "I will not allow it! This engagement must be broken at once! I will not allow you to marry this. . . this trash!" Lucy began wailing, and Fanny looked ready to slap her across the face.
"M-Miss Steele? What have y-you to s-s-say?" Nothing, hopefully!
Lucy could not answer, as she began hyperventilating.
"McDougal!" Edward said loud enough to be heard through the door. The faithful servant threw open the door, ready to restrain any young ladies from harming his master. "Get Miss Steele a glass of water, please." McDougal left as quickly as he had come.
"S-S-So. . . N-Now you kn-know, F-Fanny. What all ha-has L-Lucy told u?"
"The moment I said we were engaged she pounced on me! I-I'm bleeding!" Lucy screamed.
Lucy was, indeed bleeding. A small trickle of blood was running down her arm, and she had a large red hand print across her face.
"The ungrateful little wretch! T-"
"Fanny! Enough!" Edward commanded. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at the door. The door he longed, ached, and yearned to run out of. To escape to Drakely's. His haven. Because of this turn of events, his visit to the Dashwoods would no longer be necessary or welcome, for both parties. Eleanor was lost. . . Lost forever. He could not back out of the engagement now.
"What is going on here? I do not appreciate being scared out of my wits whilst sleeping."
Edward groaned and let his head fall into his hands as his mother entered the door in her shawl and night cap and gown.
"Mother...!" Fanny raised herself up in her chair very primly. "Mother, Edward has become engaged to that wretch!" She extended her arm to point at Lucy accusingly.
"What?!" Mrs. Ferrars gasped as she fell into the nearest chair.
"Now Moth-" Edward said as he advanced towards her.
"Do not 'Now Mother' me, boy," she held him off. "If...f you remain engaged to that...that..." she could not find suitable words to describe Lucy. "If you remain engaged to that I will strip you of your inheritance! You will not get one farthing from me ever again!" Now Mrs. Ferrars and Fanny were pointing at Lucy, whose sobs became louder and louder.
"We have been engaged six years, you can not expect me t-"
"Six years?!" Mrs. Ferrars screamed as she dove for Edward. Fanny screamed, followed her lead, and attacked him from behind.
"McDougal!" Edward bellowed as he wrapped his arms around his mother in a massive bear hug to prevent her arms from flailing about. He was unable to stop Fanny, though, who was presently strangling him.
McDougal again ran into the room. After surveying the scene for a split moment, he picked up Fanny and returned her to her chair, as Edward escorted his mother back to hers.
"Now can we n-not talk about this like civilized human beings?" Edward panted as he stood, ready to collapse in the middle of the room.
"You are no son of mine!" Mrs. Ferrars hissed, leaning forward in her chair. "Get out!" When Edward did not immediately reply, as he was about to protest and carry the argument further, she screamed again. "Get out!" Edward's mother pointed towards the door to emphasize her meaning.
Prolonging this would be insane. . .It is best to comply. . .
"McDougal? Please escort Miss Steele home. . .I am leaving."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Edward packed angrily, throwing items, crumpled and disheveled, into his luggage. Marie hovered at his elbow, trying to help and be neat about it, but she was just another frustration to Edward. After she had unpacked and re-packed his bag several times, for he continually messed it up again, he finally ordered her out of his room and told her to have McDougal find a carriage for him to use.
There were no hired carriages available, so Edward began to walk to Drakely's. It was, after all, only a half mile. That particular half-mile turned out to be the worst possible.
Could it get worse? What have I done to deserve this?
The rain poured and splattered off the brim of Edward's hat. He was not yet halfway to Gregory's. Carriages going almost unnecessarily fast to escape the cloudburst splashed him with muddy water from the cobblestone streets. Edward Ferrars arrived at his friend's home in fifteen minutes. He dropped his bags on the doorstep and knocked. Albert opened the door to find a drenched Mr. Ferrars. "Sir!" the old butler exclaimed, ushering Edward into the house. "You should not be out in this weather!"
Gregory and Anna passed by the door at that moment, only to stop in surprise at the sight of their friend.
"Edward!" Gregory exclaimed. He then noticed the waterlogged, dripping bags Edward was carrying, one in each hand. "Come in, Edward," he said matter-of-factly. "Albert will take your bags and dry your things. I'll show you to the bath, after which you can tell us what happened. Maggie!" he called for the maid. When she arrived, Gregory began barking orders. "Start bringing hot water up for Mr. Ferrars' bath, please. Open the spare room, get a hot meal ready, and plenty of brandy. Oh, also have Mr. Ferrars' things dried, Albert has the bags now, and find some suitable spare clothing for the man as well. Thank you, that is all."
Maggie stared blankly at her master. She had only caught the first three instructions. Anna would know what to do, so Gregory gestured exasperatedly towards his wife, indicating that she should instruct the servants. Anna and Maggie left to carry out Drakely's orders, and Gregory ushered Edward the rest of the way upstairs to the bath.
A large meal, hot bath, two shots of brandy, and three hours later, Edward was comfortably lounging on Gregory's sofa. Anna came in a moment later and sat next to her husband on the ottoman.
"So, Edward. Why don't you tell us what happened?"
Edward swirled his drink around in his glass for a few moments in contemplation. "I don't know what happened, really...I was walking home, and just as I rounded the corner to my house I heard a horrible scream that sounded like Fanny. So, I ran into the house yelling for her, and when I got into the parlor, what do I see but Fanny on top of Lucy, scratching, clawing, tearing away...It was dreadful!"
"There were feathers all over; they had been decorating bonnets or some such nonsense. I managed pulled Fanny off of Miss Steele and sat them both down, all the while yelling for McDougal and Marie. When they finally showed up McDougal explained that when Marie had heard the scream she ran to find him, down the street.
"After quizzing Fanny very briefly I discovered that Miss Lucy Steele had informed her of our engagement. Hardly had Lucy gotten the word 'engaged' out when Fanny screamed and attacked her...Then I ran in... To make matters worse, the commotion awoke my mother, and she came down to see what the noise was about. She threatened to strip me of my inheritance, and then I managed to mention that Lucy and I had been engaged for six years...almost seven, really. Upon hearing this, Fanny and my mother made an attack on my life, but I had McDougal standing guard outside incase such a thing occurred. He took care of Fanny and I took care of my mother."
"No one was hurt, I hope!" Anna said fretfully.
"No, no one was hurt seriously."
"What was Lucy's reaction to all of this?"
"Lucy just sat in her chair crying and wailing. I felt awful! She was bleeding a bit at the arm, and her face was red where Fanny had slapped her, but other than that, everyone came out unscathed. I told my mother that I couldn't . . . I couldn't end the...engagement, so she ordered me out of her house and life. Then I came here, and the rest...you know."
"Oh, Edward!" Anna cried. "How terrible for you! You must, of course, stay here as long as you need!"
"Yes, Edward. Our home is open to you until things straighten out."
"I do not wish to inconvenience you."
"It is no inconvenience, I assure you. What of Miss Eleanor Dashwood?" "I...I know not what to do...I cannot leave Lucy now that her reputation has been marred. I cannot just...leave her..."
"Then you have resolved the issue in your mind?"
"Do I have any other choice?"
"Come, then. Let's get a good night's sleep. We all need some rest and it is getting quite late. Edward, we can discuss what is best done tomorrow morning."
"It would be possible for you to join the militia, would it not?" Gregory asked, as he sat at the head of the table, Anna to his right, and Edward to his left. "Possible, yes...But I have always detested the idea of war. It goes against every moral I have left."
"Then perhaps the clergy would better suit you."
"I thought long and hard on that matter well into the night...I agree. I must be in orders, first though. I assume there is some sort of school, or lessons to be taught before I find my own parish."
"I know none of that, but I'm sure more information is available."
"Oh, Gregory!" Anna exclaimed. "What of Reverend Mitchell? I am sure he would help poor Edward! Why, he was once in a situation very similar to Edward's at one time, was he not?"
Edward raised his eyebrows in question.
"Similar, yes, but not very," Gregory amended. "Reverend Mitchell lost his fortune in a few very bad business transactions, and turned to the clergy as compensation."
"I suppose you may consider Miss Steele a very bad business transaction," Edward said somewhat bitterly.
The three at the table laughed, despite themselves.
"It is good to see you still have a sense of humor, Edward," Anna spoke up. "I am sure everything will turn out for the best, for you deserve nothing else."
The visit to Rev. Mitchell proved very gratifying. He was very sympathetic to Edward's situation, and offered every assistance possible. Edward's education was extensive to the point that only a very few Theology classes were necessary to ordain him, which Reverend Mitchell would over see himself. This would take a matter of two, perhaps three, months. Once he found a suitable parish and living, he would be able to set up residence almost immediately.
Chapter Thirty
"Edward, you may just as easily stay here and continue with your classes."
"I would prefer not, Gregory. I have imposed on you and your good wife for too long. Living nearer the church will be easier for me in the long run. My temporary residence is not a block from the chapel and Reverend Mitchell, where as your good home is two miles walk. I shall visit often enough, old friend."
"If you insist, Edward. But hesitate not to return if you ever need anything...Anything at all!"
"I will. Thank you, Gregory; goodbye, Anna." Edward shook Gregory's hand, kissed Anna's cheek, and was gone.
Edward had always been a modest man, a frugal man. Therefore, when his mother gave her son money, most was generally saved. Over the course of ten years, Edward had saved up a tidy sum that would amply pay for his impermanent residence, the Reverend's classes, and any other expenses that happened his way. None-the-less, Edward's new abode was less than perfect. In truth, it was so far from perfection as to degrade him as a gentleman.
As a clergyman, I will not have luxuries like I am used to. This is perhaps, a test...of my character and ability...to see if I am fit for the life of a parson...
Edward soon came upon the building that was to house him for the next month or so. He knocked hesitantly on the door, which was presently opened by a middle aged woman covered in flower, holding a mixing bowl filled with foul looking, lumpy, off white mush, a wooden mixing spoon and speaking with a horrid cockney accent.
"Yas?"
"I-I am E-Edward F-F-Ferrars. I-I arranged t-to h-"
"Oh!" she cried. "So you're tha gentleman come to live upon us common folk, ay?"
"I-I--"
"Come along, then sire. I'll show ya to yer room. 'ope it's to yer likin'."
"T-Thank you..."
The room was on the top floor of the three-story residence. The walls were bare, the furniture was old and abused, and everything was extremely plain and common looking, but it was clean, there were no insects or mice scurrying about, and it had a lovely view of London.
"I'm Brun'ilda Moore. Ye can call me Widow Moore, 'ildie, or Mama Moore. Most call me 'ildie. Bath's just down t' 'all, there. I'll tidy your room a bit each morn' and take care of yer washin'. I'll pick those up 'alf past eight. 'ere's yer key. Breakfast is at seven, dinner at noon, and supper at 'alf past six each night. There be anything else yer needin'?"
"N-No, thank you..."
"I'll need to be knowin' each morn whether ye plan on 'aving dinner and supper 'ere. As for breakfast, I'll save some for ye each day in case you decide to join us. There be seven other persons 'ere aside meself 'n me kinfolk. They all be real friendly like. Will ya be supping with us t'night?"
"Ah...Yes, I-I shall be...present...half past six."
"Yes, sire. I shall leave ya then, so's you be gettin' a bit o' rest."
"Th-Thank you..."
Brunhilda Moore stopped talking a moment to size Edward up. "You is a shy one, ain't ya? Good lookin' though...and clean. I s'pect you'll 'ave me two girls after ya, 'fore long!" she clucked, and exited the room.
Edward placed his hat on the table standing in the corner and his bags on top of the bureau. His blue coat he tossed over the table's chair, along with his cravat.
I am supposed to write Miss Steele and tell her of my present location...Not today; I am in no humor to write love letters containing nothing but flagrant lies.
Edward pulled off his boots and unbuttoned his vest while thinking these mean thoughts, and sat down tiredly on the bed, only to fall backwards. It was like lying on a sponge; Edward being the water it soaked up.
I may not need blankets while staying here... he mused sarcastically.
None-the-less, Edward soon fell into a light doze, and awoke two hours later to the sound a loud clanging. Edward's eyes flew open, he pulled on his boots, and hurriedly buttoned his vest. Once his appearance was slightly tidied, he popped his head out of the door and saw a man, only a little older than himself, heading towards the stairs.
"I say! E-Excuse me, sir!" Edward called to the man.
The man turned his head towards the voice and spied Edward.
"Oh! Hello! You must be the new one Mrs. Moore's told us all about. The new gentleman come to stay. I am Samuel Cowles; pleased to meet you," Mr. Cowles held out his hand for Edward to shake.
Edward took the man's hand, and opened his door a bit wider. "E-Edward Ferrars, pleased to make your aq-quaintence. Could you inform me what that loud clanging was?"
"Oh! Dinner bell, Mr. Ferrars. It's time for supper...Will you be joining us?"
"Y-Yes, I will."
"Would you like me to wait for you?"
"I-It would be much appreciated, please come in."
Samuel Cowles stepped into the room and gazed about. "What part of the country are you from?"
"Essex, originally...And you?" Edward quickly tied his cravat about his neck again.
"Cornwall, actually."
Edward pulled on his blue coat. "Shall we go down? I am afraid I do not know my way about here, yet."
Edward and Samuel descended the flight of stairs to the main entryway, and went farther back into the large room, where a long table with twelve chairs was set up. At each place there were plain, off-white cups, plates, and saucers, with old and scratched, yet clean, silverware.
Two young ladies, perhaps twenty and eighteen, were seated at the left and right of the head of the table. The elder was of medium coloring with mousy brown hair pulled into a chignon at the nape of her neck and gray eyes. She had a heart shaped face and rounded features. The younger had long, dark blonde hair that was pulled back on top, but the rest was left hanging down to the middle of her back. This young lady had greenish eyes, but they had striking specks of gold in them. Though a contrast to her sister in coloring, their builds were the same; full and rounded.
Mr. Cowles introduced Edward to the sisters.
"Mr. Ferrars, these are Hildie's two daughters, Miss Agatha Moore, the elder, and Miss Eve. Miss Moore, Miss Eve, this is Mr. Edward Ferrars."
The proper civilities took place, and Edward and his new friend sat at the table, Samuel indicating which seat he should take.
A short silence ensued while they awaited more diners, though none came, before Edward felt it necessary to begin conversation. He was too modest to chat with the girls openly, and so he addressed Samuel.
"And what is your pr-profession, Mr. Cowles?"
"I currently work for the London Times newspaper; I write of the political world. And what of you, Mr. Ferrars?"
"I-I am currently taking my final courses so that I may be ordained by Michelmas at latest."
"Ah! The clergy! A noble profession...My father was a pastor for a great many years. He had a happy little parish just outside of Fraddon, until we moved to Brighton in West Sussex when I was twelve. They are a rowdier bunch there, and my father had numerous sinners on his hands. Where will you be settling?" "I know not where I will find a parish as of yet, but I hope it to be somewhere in the country."
"You do not care for city life?"
"Not at all, as a matter of fact. The city is t-too busy...Too crowded...Too...fallacious for my taste."
"Oh, but those are some of its charms!" Samuel countered. "As a newspaperman, the crowd and bustle are necessities. As for fraudulence, they provide the gossip on which newspapers thri-"
At that moment Mrs. Moore came in with a few trays and sent her girls out to the kitchen to get the rest.
"I see Mr. Greensmith 'as decided not t' grace us with 'is presence again! Do wish that man'd stop makin' me prepare extra victuals if 'e don't plan t' be 'ere," she clucked as she placed the mashed potatoes in front of Edward, and left to get more food. "We us'lly have a biggah crowd 'ere, Mr. Ferrars. Us'lly up t' six er sev'n," Being a room away did not stop Hildie from simply talking louder to cover the distance. "T'night, though, two a' th' men 'ave a meetin' t' go to, and a few a' th'others are over t' some assembly a common friend o' theirs 'as monthly," with this, she and her daughters returned to the dining room, laden down with all sorts of foods. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Ferrars, 'ave you met me daughters yet?"
"Y-Yes, madam. Mr. Cowles was so good as to introduce me to Miss Moore and Miss Eve."
"Oh, you sly thing!" she accused Samuel. "Not lettin' me introduce me own daughters!"
"Well, you would not have Mr. Ferrars sit with a table of strangers, would you Hildie?"
"Certainly not, Samu'l! I'll 'ave no strangers in me 'ouse!"
Hildie was carrying three bowls, two of which Edward was fearing she would drop. "H-Here, madam. A-Allow me to assist you."
" 'Madam!' 'e says!" Brunhilda exclaimed, stepping back. "'Madam!?' I've got a name same as Aggie, 'aven't I? We'll 'ave none of that 'ere! No, sir! But thank ye kindly just the same, deary," she admonished as she expertly balanced each bowl and finally placed them all on the table in their respective places. "Y'll call me 'ildie, if y' please, same as Samu'l."
Edward did not know how to reply to such censure, and so, was excessively glad when Eve offered him the pea soup, changing the subject.
Dinner passed without further embarrassment or uneasiness, and Edward found himself to be beginning to enjoy their company greatly. They were all very kind and well meaning, though perhaps slightly rough around the edges. Yes, Edward was adapting very well to his new environment, and was thinking that perhaps he would like it at Brunhilda Moore's boarding house very much indeed.
Chapter Thirty-One
One week after his arrival, one letter from Lucy, five classes with Reverend Mitchell, and three visits to Drakely's, Edward had a very unexpected visitor--his brother Robert.
"Deary?" Hildie knocked on Edward's door.
"Come in!" he called. Edward was memorizing a verse from the Bible, and preparing to write a practice sermon on it. Samuel was very helpful about such things, and often listened and offered advice. He would call him in later to hear his latest.
"Deary . . . There be a gentleman 'ere to see ya. 'e says e's . . . yer brother?" Brunhilda said slowly and doubtfully.
"My brother?!" Edward asked in astonishment, snapping closed the Good Book.
"Yes... Mr. Robert Ferrars... ?"
"Oh! Well, uh...P-Please tell him I will be down presently..."
Widow Moore left the room to ask the gentleman to please wait. Meanwhile, Edward ran a hand through his hair, buttoned his vest, and in general tried to make himself somewhat more presentable.
"Robert!" he exclaimed, as he came down the last few stairs to the landing. As surprised as he was to see his brother, he couldn't help but be happy, despite the circumstances. Edward eagerly stretched out his hand to his brother, who slowly took it.
"It is good to see you again, Edward," he said evenly.
"I am very surprised to see you here. Who informed you where to find me?"
"Ah...Your belov'd Miss Lucy Steele."
Edward was indeed shocked to hear this news.
"M-Miss Steele?"
"Yes...That fiancée of yours has been to every social party fathomable in the last week and a half," Robert said royally. "She informed me of your whereabouts."
"Wh-What are you-"
"Brother!" Robert interrupted. "Join me for luncheon, if you would. I know a fabulous cafe but a few blocks to the north. We may go in my barouche."
"I-I'm afraid I cannot, Robert. I must meet with Reverend Mitchell at a quarter past two."
"It is barely half past twelve. We shall be brief."
Edward relented, and retrieved his great coat from the cloakroom, telling Hildie to subtract one from the midday meal. Once seated in the fashionable cafe, Robert cut directly to his reason for visiting his outcast brother.
"I assume you wish to know why I have come."
"I do."
"Truth be told, there are numerous reasons. My main justification being that in secretly visiting you, I can provide Mother with the details she frets about, and finally put her nerves to rest."
"What has Mother to fret about concerning me?" Edward could not help but ask bitterly.
"Well, Edward, mainly to make sure you weren't destroying the family name," Robert said bluntly.
"Yes, I suppose it would be too much for Mother to care about a-anything else."
"Don't be base."
"I assume you are enjoying being the only heir, now."
"Indescribably so..."
There was a long silence while the brothers drank their tea. The first to speak was Robert, though he was muttering, and Edward could not distinguish what he said.
"Pardon me, I'm afraid I didn't hear what you said."
Robert plunked his tea cup onto the saucer and folded his arms across his chest.
"You stole her."
"Wh-What? Whom did I st-steal?" Edward asked as he took a bite of his welsh rabbit.
"Lucy."
Edward choked, but managed to swallow. "L-Lucy?! Trust in me, brother, I stole no one, e-especially Miss Steele."
"I was about to propose marriage to the woman, and you stole her!" Robert hissed.
"Y-You?!" Edward asked incredulously. "You?! Ask Miss Steele to m-marry you?!"
"Why must you be so utterly daft? When did you propose? You have only been aquatinted with Lucy for how long? Two weeks? I have known her three, therefore I must have some claim over you. Therefore, I demand that you drop the engagement."
"R-Robert, I have known Miss Steele these last seven y-years."
"Seven?! How?" Robert asked in dismay.
"Sh-She resides with her uncle in Plymouth, normally. Her uncle, M-Mr. Pratt, was my i-instructor."
There was another silence, Robert fuming and Edward dumbfounded.
"Robert, p-please believe me when I say that i-if I were not honor-bound to Miss Steele, I-I would relinquish her to you without hesitation or regret."
When did this happen? And why could it have not happened sooner? Robert love Lucy? Why?
Robert scoffed. "Honor-bound! Bah! Be a man and break the engagement if you care not for her. I find her very suitable to my taste."
"Brother, th-there is no one who would rather break this off th-than myself. B-But I gave her my word of honor a-as a gentleman. I c-cannot go back on my word."
"What is she to you? She is a fashionable lady of not a little beauty, fair breeding, and good manners. You have never cared for such things! Don't you see? In only a short time, I could mold Lucy into the perfect lady! She would accent my tastes wonderfully, and all in all be the best wife possible! What will she be to you? Nothing but a parson's wife!" Robert spat.
He stood up angrily, dropped a five-pound note on the table, and left in disgust. Edward could do naught but remain where he sat, in an incredible muddle.
Chapter Thirty-Two
For the next two weeks, Edward's life returned to its semi-normal state while he resided in Mrs. Moore's boarding house. During the days he was with Reverend Mitchell, and at night he stayed at Hildie's, either playing Hearts with Samuel, or reading Shakespeare, Byron, and Marlowe by candlelight. In two days time, Edward would be leaving for Oxford with the good reverend to finish his seminaries and be ordained.
As he was departing shortly, he decided that it was time to make his farewell calls. After his meeting with Robert, Edward had decided that any visit to his mother or sister would be in vain, and so the only other people left to see were the Steeles, Drakelys, and...the Dashwoods. It would be ghastly if Edward left without saying goodbye, it was only polite...and he had not had the opportunity to explain...to tell Eleanor...why...
"Edward!" Eleanor exclaimed as she rose from her chair.
"Eleanor!"
The lovers embraced and slowly parted.
"Eleanor, I must tell you-"
"No, Edward. You need not. I know..."
"You know?"
"I do... "
"Miss Steele?"
Eleanor nodded to the affirmative and rose on her toes to lightly kiss Edward's lips. He leant forward to meet her more evenly, and they kissed passionately.
"Edward--" Eleanor broke the kiss.
"Yes, my darling, darling Eleanor?" he leaned his forehead against hers, and cupped her face in his hands.
"Edward, Miss Steele has...has eloped with...the butler..."
It was then that Edward realized he must be dreaming, for in his mind, they were being much too improper, Lucy would never have run away with a butler, and Edward wasn't accompanied by his usual stutter...Pity...Though he did not awake, he consciously made note of that fact and let the dream run it's course.
"Eleanor, marry me," Edward whispered.
Eleanor nodded her head. "Yes." They embraced again. Suddenly, Eleanor pulled away from him. He became confused as she tore a mask from her face, and revealed who she truly was--Lucy!
"Miss Steele!" Edward yelled in surprise.
"I have caught you! You have proposed, and now you may not go back on your word! For you are, of course, a gentleman! And if you refuse to marry me after what has just passed, I will inform the world what a black hearted villain you are, and your reputation will be marred for life! Not even your precious little Eleanor will marry you, then!" she screeched as she threw her arms around his neck, and her lips sought his.
Edward tore himself away screaming, "No! No! This cannot be! No!"
He sat up suddenly in bed. "No!" Edward's eyes flew open, and he was now wide-awake. "It was only a dream," he muttered, panting, trying to reassure himself. "It was only a dream." Edward lay back down and rolled over. The poor man spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. Tomorrow he would visit the Dashwoods.
"May I help you, sir?"
"I-I am here to see the Miss Dashwoods."
Please let them be out! Let them be away!
"Who shall I say is calling?"
"M-Mr. Edward Ferrars."
"Are you expected?"
"N-No."
"This way, sir."
"Thank you."
The maid led Edward through the hall, only to be accosted by Mrs. Jennings, who was on her way out.
"Oh! Hello, Mr. Ferrars!" she called, as she hurriedly put on her bonnet. "I am sorry I may not stay, but I am on my way to see my dear daughter Charlotte with her new son. Your Lucy, you must know, is staying on with them to help with the poor little thing. I declare, he has got the worst colic I have ever seen this side of the Thames! Oh! I believe Miss Dashwood will see you, though. She has a very particular business which she would like to discuss with you."
"Th-Thank you, madam."
Edward was announced, and he entered. There was Eleanor. He had been almost afraid to pay his call after the horrid dream, but one look at Eleanor reassured him in some strange was. The Eleanor there was no hope of recovering. He felt like a small boy in a general store, wishing for a bit of candy, yet not having one farthing to his name.
Beautiful Eleanor. If she looked unwell the last time he laid eyes on her, she looked at death's door, now. She had lost even more weight, there were faint circles under her eyes, and she was ashen colored.
She also looked nervous.
They each haltingly remembered to bow and curtsey.
Edward and Eleanor sat in an embarrassed silence for sometime before Edward spoke with great effort.
"I-I beg your pardon for the intrusion. Mrs. Jennings told me," said he, "that you wished to speak with me, at least I understood her so--o-or I certainly should not have intruded on you in this manner; though at the same time, I should have been extremely sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister; especially as it will most likely be s-sometime--it is not probable that I should soon have the pleasure of meeting you again. I go to Oxford tomorrow."
Eleanor looked slightly flustered, but responded. "You would not have gone, however, without receiving our good wishes, even if we had not been able to give them in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she said. I have something of consequence to inform you of, which I was on the point of communicating by paper." Eleanor gestured to the writing table on which there were quill and parchment. "I am charged with a most agreeable office. Colonel Brandon, who was here only ten minutes ago, has desired me to say that, understanding you mean to take orders, he has great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford, now just vacant, and only wishes it were more valuable. Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable and well-judging a friend, and to join in his wish that the living--it is about two hundred a-year--were much more considerable, and such as might better enable you to--as might be more than a temporary accommodation you yourself--such, in short, as might establish all your views of happiness."
Edward was so extremely astonished at this mixed blessing that his reply came slowly.
"Colonel Brandon!" he exclaimed, still in wonder.
"Yes," Eleanor interrupted his reverie. "Colonel Brandon means it as a testimony of his concern for what has lately passed--for the cruel situation in which the unjustifiable conduct of your family has placed you--a concern which I am sure Marianne, myself and all you friends must share; and likewise as a proof of his high esteem for your general character, and his particular approbation of your behavior on the present occasion."
"Colonel Brandon give me a living!--Can it be possible?"
"The unkindness of you own relations has made you astonished to find friendship any where."
Edward began severely self-conscious with her kind remarks. He could not but remember his own detestable conduct towards her. Though not regretting a moment with Eleanor, he regretted every quarter-second with Lucy.
Eleanor did this...But why? Why should she... Delaford? Is it not close to Barton? A new thought, almost unconnected with the previous entered his mind. Eleanor believes I love Lucy! She...e must know that to be untrue She... must! But all reason stood against this deduction. Edward had made advances towards Eleanor, true. But he was marrying Lucy. Therefore, Edward could be considered nothing but the worst kind of cad. Still, the thought that Eleanor might not know...Might not realize that all affection he could have for any woman was bestowed solely on her. She is so good a person, she would think ill of no one, and yet...Has she any other choice but to think ill of me? And yet, she has contrived for Colonel Brandon to give me a living, which would enable me to marry! I cannot make sense of it!
"No," he finally replied. "not to find in you; for I cannot be ignorant that to you, to your goodness I owe it all.--I feel it--I would express it if I could--but, as you well know, I-I am no orator."
"You are very much mistaken," said Eleanor, a bit hastily. "I do assure you that you owe it entirely to your own merit, and Colonel Brandon's discernment of it. I have had no hand in it. I did not even know, till I understood his design, that the living was vacant; nor had it occurred to me that he might have had such a living in his gift. As a friend of mine, of my family, he may perhaps--indeed I know he has, still greater pleasure in bestowing it; but, upon my word, you owe nothing to my solicitation."
She has not contrived it. Therefore she must think ill of me. Oh, I think there could be nothing worse in the whole of this bitter-sweet world!
Again, after great length, Edward exerted great effort and made answer. "Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth and respectability. I have always heard him spoken of as such, and your brother I know esteems him highly. He is undoubtedly a sensible man, and in his manners perfectly the gentleman."
"Indeed," replied Eleanor. "I believe that you will find him, on farther acquaintance, all that you have heard him to be, and as you will be such very near neighbors, for I understand the parsonage is almost close to the mansion-house, it is particularly important that he should be all this."
Edward knew not how to reply. Until now, Edward had kept up a facade. Not necessarily of happiness, but at least . . . normalcy. As Eleanor turned her face towards the window to look out in silence, Edward let his mask drop, and his face became deadly serious yet mournful at once. It was a look so serious, so earnest, so uncheerful, as seemed to say, that he might hereafter wish the distance between the parsonage and the mansion-house much greater.
If the rumors of Colonel Brandon seeking the hand of Marianne are true, I do not think I could bear seeing Eleanor visit so frequently. After a moment of torturing himself, he realized that it would perhaps be best if he took his leave. If only to go thank the good Colonel.
"Colonel Brandon, I think, lodges in St. James's-street," said he, soon afterwards rising from his chair.
"Yes. Number three hundred fourteen."
"I must hurry away then, to give him those thanks which you will not allow me to give you; to assure him that he has made me a very--an exceedingly happy man."
Happy! Happy! he scoffed in his mind. She will never know how hard it was to force those words from my lips.
Eleanor did not offer to detain him; and they parted, with a very earnest assurance on her side of unceasing good wishes for his happiness in every change of situation that might befall him; on his, with rather an attempt to return the same good will, than the power of expressing it. Edward took his leave and ambled towards St. James Street as slowly as possible.
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Mr. Ferrars!" he exclaimed with slight surprise.
"Colonel Brandon."
Mr. Edward Ferrars and Colonel Jonathon Brandon solemnly shook hands.
"Please...Be seated." Colonel Brandon gestured towards a chair.
"Sir, I-I will come directly to the point, as I see you were on your way out. I-I came only to say how v-very thankful I am for your kindness and generosity towards myself, which is wholly undeserved, but for which I am eternally grateful."
"It is no trouble, Mr. Ferrars. I look forward to having you at Delaford soon."
"Sir, if I may be so bold as to ask...Why?"
"Well, let us be frank, Mr. Ferrars. I know of your unfortunate situation, and once--a very long time ago--I myself was in a position very similar to your own. I only wish I had someone to give me what I hope I am now giving you. And naturally, of course, any friend of the Miss Dashwoods' is certainly deserving, therefore I have had no qualms in offering the living to you. By the bye--when might you be able to begin?"
"Ah...Yes, well...Not immediately. I am very soon, this next morning in fact, away to Oxford for the next month, after which I may be ordained, and at your service."
"Yes, that will do very well, thank you. I wish I might stay and offer you something so that we might talk longer, but as you said, I am on my way out, and I do not wish to be late. You are most heartily welcome, Mr. Ferrars, and I hope I shall see you again very soon."
"Yes, of course. Certainly, sir. Thank you again."
Colonel Brandon headed east on St. James, and Edward headed west. West towards Miss Lucy Steele.
As Edward strolled down the boulevard, he was hit with sudden inspiration. The living may perhaps be a blessing in disguise! The monetary value was only two hundred a-year, with a house in shambles. Lucy would never condescend to live there...would she? It was a wicked plan, to be sure...But it was Edward's last chance to detach himself from Lucy the leech. He would do it, though he knew his conscience would catch him for it ere long.
"Edward! Whatever are you doing here?" she looked up from her bonnet decorating.
"I-I have news, Miss Steele."
"Oh, Edward, love! I do wish you would call me Lucy! No one, not even your brother, calls me Miss Steele, and I truly detest it," as she talked her fingers worked nimbly at lacing the ribbon in and out of the straw. She finished as she stopped to breathe, placed the hat on the table, and crossed the room to take Edward's hand and lead him to the couch. Did she know how much hope she had instilled in him by mentioning his brother? "Now, love. What is the news?" she asked sweetly.
"I-I h-"
"Oh, Edward, do stop your stuttering, my darling. You have no need to be nervous around me, silly," she put a finger over his lips to shush him.
Edward studied Lucy's eyes while he attempted to think of an answer. There was a shallowness in them he had unfortunately not noticed before. Shallowness with a thin veil false sweetness and mirth.
It is a stretch, but it may work after all.
Edward was now to speak, but Lucy's finger was still on his lips. He waited a moment for Lucy to realize that she must move her hand if Edward were ever to tell his news.
"I have been offered the living of Delaford, Colonel Brandon's estate in Longstaple." Edward stayed focused on her eyes as he said this, and was not shocked at what he saw. Miss Steele's eyes voiced unwanted surprise and astonishment. She had obviously not been expecting his good fortune. These signs of her true self lasted only a moment before the veil was again replaced.
"E-Edward!" she exclaimed with wonder. "Oh, Edward!" her next cry was one of false joy as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheeks.
Edward made no move to reciprocate the affection, and Lucy drew back, wounded. "Edward! Will you not kiss me?"
It was now Edward's turn to bring about a falseness in his nature. "Of course," he kissed her forehead and restrained himself from spitting afterwards.
This was enough display for Lucy, who then stretched out on the ottoman with her head cuddled to Edward's chest.
"Oh, love!" she sighed. "You are so good to me...How much did you say the living was? I don't believe you said. Oh, but it can be of no consequence as the living is Colonel Brandon's, and he is quite wealthy, is he not? Therefore, the living cannot be less than five hundred, can it?"
This was the other shoe that Edward had been waiting to drop. "The living is less than Colonel Brandon would wish. It is only two hundred a year, and he says there is much work to be done to the parsonage."
"Two hundred?!" Lucy drew back to look at him, aghast.
Edward nodded with no little pleasure.
"B-But...Well...You must have some money saved, do you not? To tide us over until the Colonel can increase our income?"
Edward shook his head in mock sadness, lying. In actuality, he had quite a tidy sum. "Not a farthing, love."
"Oh, Edward!" Lucy whined. "Whatever are we to do? How will we live? I shall not have a new gown for years!"
"Not for many years, love. Especially as there is so much work yet to be done on the parsonage. Evidently the last vicar was very old, and made no repairs. I fear we shall be living in poverty for some time."
This only made Miss Steele wail louder, which gave Edward a mean happiness.
"Why, Lucy! You are not upset, are you? I know it is not much, my darling, but we will have each other! Will that not bring ample joy?"
Lucy dried her tears. "Yes, of course, Edward. We shall be a happy couple of church mice, we two," she sniffed as she laid her head back on his chest.
"Well! I must be off!" Edward said all too cheerfully the moment her head was at rest. He stood up quickly, and Lucy stumbled to her feet.
"Must you go so soon, love?"
"I am afraid so, Lucy darling. I shall write." Edward kissed her cheek and exited the room, swinging his umbrella.
Chapter Thirty-Four
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," Edward whispered at the alter. I have ...I have mislead my fiancée and I have told many falsehoods. But father...I know you must know of my predicament, and therefore I beg you for your understanding and mercy. I would never have dreamt of lying so boldly if I had not thought...I know that it is unholy to think so horribly of a person, Lord, especially as I am to be shortly in your service, but . . . I pray that you will forgive me, and help me out of the situation I have found myself in for these past months.
Most merciful God, I confess that I have sinned against you in thought, word and deed. By what I have done, and by what I have left undone. I have not loved you with my whole heart; I have not loved my neighbor as myself. I am truly sorry, and I humbly repent. For the sake of your son, my Savior, Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and forgive me; that I may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your name.
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen." Edward stood and made the sign of the cross before leaving the chapel.
He was rather proud of himself, really. He had recited the entire Nicene Creed without fault for the very first time in years. Edward had of course known the main parts, but it was his classes that had brought about the complete memorization.
Edward arrived at the Drakely residence happier than he had been in some time. Anna and Gregory could see that their friend had had a stroke of good luck, but he refused to say anything until they were seated at the dinner table.
"I have a piece of good news," Edward finally started the conversation after they had been served.
"And what is that, friend?" Gregory asked calmly as he reached for the platter of roast duck.
"I have got a parish."
"A parish?" Anna gasped. "But Edward! Do you not realize that this will force you to marry Miss Steele?"
"It would, yes, in the long run, but my dear Anna, I...I may have dissuaded Miss Steele some little bit this evening. If I may not break off the engagement, she must..."
"Dissuaded how?" Gregory questioned curiously.
"I...I may have told her how very small the living was...what a shamble the parsonage was in...and what extremely small amount of money I had saved..." Edward admitted sheepishly.
Gregory's brows raised, and Anna's eyes widened.
"My friends, I know it is most cruel of me, but what other alternative have I left?"
"How did this come about?"
"It was very odd, really. I went to pay my farewell visit to the Dashwoods, during which Eleanor informed me that Colonel Brandon wished to give me a living. I was, of course, dismayed, but I continued on to confirm the news with the man himself. After which, I visited Miss Steele giving her the, ah . . . previous information. After a brief visit to the nearest chapel, I came here."
Questions naturally arose in abundance from Edward's short speech, all of which he answered patiently while they sat in the drawing room.
Three hours later, Gregory insisted on calling Edward a handsome cab, as it was late at night and his friend would be leaving early the next morning.
The ride to Hildie's boarding house was quite enjoyable. The town was quietly humming, the stars were unusually bright, contrasting beautifully with the midnight sky, and in great number. The moon was high above and full, in the last stages of waxing. A gentle breeze murmured through the few trees and rustled their leaves, though it did not make the night chilly. Edward quietly hummed the 'Minuet in G' to himself as the two mares clip-clopped down the cobblestone streets toward sleep and bed.
He was not home free yet, Edward knew that well. But for the first time since their engagement had been known of publicly, he felt a glimmer of hope. Hope that perhaps someone had been watching over him after all, and that things might end well despite the many hindrances he had encountered.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was quite late when Edward arrived at the boarding house. After tipping the coachman generously, he tiredly unlocked the door and made his way up to his room in the dark, feeling the walls so that he would not lose his way.
"Ferrars?" a soft voice called from behind.
Edward started at the sound, but turned to see Samuel Cowles. "Cowles! Wh- "
"I was wondering if I might have a word with you."
"Yes, yes, of course. Come in, please."
The two men entered the dark room, and Edward lit a lamp.
"I was hoping I might confide in you...I am in need of advice..."
Edward was taken aback, but replied to the affirmative. "Certainly...Anything ...What is it?"
"You...You are aware of my affection for Miss Eve Moore..." Samuel began.
Edward did indeed! Samuel was the definition of 'enamored.' He nodded, and his friend continued.
"I-I...I have got a promotion at the newspaper."
"That is wonderful, Samuel! Congratulations!" Edward shook hands with him happily and clapped him on the back.
"Thank you, but ah...That is not exactly what I needed to confide in you about. I...I have always promised myself that once I was established. Once I had money enough in my pocket to support two people living in a London flat, not in a boarding house, that I would ask Eve to marry me. Well...I've been saving these past two years, and...now with the promotion..."
"Where lies the problem? Propose and be married!" Edward said joyfully.
"Well...Miss Eve is the younger of the two sisters...I do not know that Hildie would allow--"
"Say no more," Edward interrupted Samuel. "You have no choice but to apply to Hildie. She is a good sort, and she thinks very highly of you. I see no reason why she would say no. We both know Hildie to not stand on any sort of ridiculous formalities."
"You are sure?"
"Go to her and see what she will say. If she denies you Eve, then...Wait impatiently for Miss Agatha to be married," he laughed. "Does not Mr. Greensmith dote on her quite a bit?"
"Indeed he does, but I do not know that he ever means to propose. Mr. Greensmith is not that sort of man. I doubt that he would settle in the near future."
"Perhaps if Hildie denies you, you might apply to Mr. Greensmith?"
"Perhaps, Edward...Thank you...You leave in the morning, then, do you?"
"Yes. On the ten o'clock stage. After I am ordained I mean to go to Longstaple. An acquaintance, Colonel Brandon, has offered me the living of Delaford."
Samuel nodded. "Congratulations! You must send the address."
"Of course."
"Have a safe journey, Ferrars. You are a good man."
Samuel and Edward shook hands.
"As are you, Samuel. I hope everything works well with Eve. You two will be very happy, I am sure of it."
Samuel turned to leave, but hesitated. "Ferrars?"
"Yes?"
"If Eve and I get married...What I mean to say is...Will you marry us?"
"It would be my greatest pleasure, Samuel."
Cowles nodded and returned to the door. "God bless, Ferrars."
"God bless, Cowles."
Chapter Thirty-Six
It was a sad event when Edward left Hildie's boarding house. Agatha, Eve, and she were the only ones there to see he and Reverend Mitchell off, but Hildie made up for the lack of people present.
" 'ere, deary. I've made you and the Reverend a lunch and dinner to tyke with you," she handed him a picnic basket as she mussed with the jacket and hat he wore, like a mother hen. She paused for a moment to look up at him, and clasped her handkerchief over her mouth as she began to whimper.
Edward handed her the keys to his room and the front door as he squeezed her hand affectionately, and planted a small kiss on it. "Goodbye, Hildie. Thank you for everything. I shall see you at the wedding in three months."
Hildie pulled him to her by his hand, and gave him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. "You is a sweet boy, you, Edward. Tyke care of yerself!"
Edward bowed to Agatha, and she curtseyed back prettily, as he took her hand. "Goodbye, Miss Agatha."
He repeated the movements with Eve. "Goodbye, Miss Eve. Congratulations."
"Goodbye, Mr. Ferrars," they chorused.
Edward gave a final bow to all three of them, then entered the carriage in which Reverend Mitchell was waiting.
He tapped the inside of the roof lightly with his umbrella to signal the coachman, then Edward watched out the window as Hildie and her girls waved goodbye. He hesitantly waved back, and then settled back in his seat for a long journey.
"You've never had a goodbye the likes of that, have you?" Reverend Mitchell asked, amused.
"No," Edward admitted.
"Mrs. Moore and her girls seem like very good people. A bit unconventional, perhaps, but good."
"Hildie has a large heart. I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised at her daughters. Though Hildie is a bit rough around the edges, she is kind to a fault. Her daughters are also very kind, but they are more ladylike than one would expect, coming from a life in Cheapside. But they are all very good."
"You hold no value in residence, do you?" the reverend asked, slightly alarmed.
"No, no! None, I assure you," Edward said hastily. "I simply meant that they had less opportunities, yet they have made the most of everything that comes their way. For that, I admire them greatly."
The reverend nodded, and settled back on the opposite side of the coach. As they neared the outskirts of town, he was soon asleep, and snoring lightly, whilst Edward was left to his thoughts.
The trip was uneventful, both men sleeping most of the way until they came upon rough roads, then dozing off again, once they were on a more stable path. They stopped to have the horses watered in Wallingford, after crossing the Chiltern Hills, and picnicked on Hildie's drumsticks and salad. An hour later they set off again, and reached the parsonage they would be staying at by mid-afternoon.
It was an old vicarage, and had no rector, excluding a monk, Brother Robert, who resided there and kept the place in order. He showed them to their rooms so that they might rest and refresh themselves before dinner, but Edward was sleepless. He attempted to read, but quickly threw the book down. He began unpacking, only to tire of that as well. At last, he sat down at the small desk to write those that he left in London.
Mr. Samuel Cowles
Moore Boarding House
17280 St. Charles Street
LondonDear Cowles,
I write to inform you of my arrival at Hamilton Parsonage, where I will finish my lessons, and to congratulate you.
I spoke with Hildie this morning before I departed, and she was in raptures over her new soon-to-be son. She also informed me the wedding is to be in three months time. You and Miss Eve will be my first attempt at marrying, so you must forgive me if I stumble and stutter in my usual manner, throughout the service.
How fares everyone at the Moores'? I hope you are all in good health, and happily celebrating the upcoming nuptials.
Please tell Hildie I am well, and thank her for the luncheon she packed us. I have enclosed my new address, but for the present must go.
Sincerely,
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
Oxford
Dear Lucy,
How fares life in London? I am just arrived at Oxford, and am eager to begin my classes.
I have great plans for our parsonage once we are settled. I plan to have a vegetable garden, and hope that you will not mind tending to a flowerbed or two. I wish to have many plants about. I hear they assist in breathing, and help to clear the mind, so I should like to have plants in the house whilst I write next Sundays' sermons.
I was also wondering what day you would like to visit the parishioners on. Reverend Mitchell says it is very common for a preacher and his wife to call on Wednesdays, and I can think of no reason why we should not.
I hope that you are well and happy. We may set a date to begin our lives together once my plans are more definite. At the moment, I may only have one more month of classes, but it could very easily turn into two at a moment's notice.
Enclosed is my present address.
Sincerely,
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Miss Lucy Steele
c/o Mr. Palmer
1308 West Sycamore Street
London
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
Oxford
Yes, Edward realized that he may be digging himself into a deeper hole, if Lucy was not put off by the nearness of her impending marriage and poverty . . . . But it was a gamble he felt he must make . . . . In Edward's mind, things could only get better; therefore, why not take a chance?
Dear Gregory and Anna,
How fare you both? I hope you are well and merry. I have arrived safely in Oxford, and find the accommodations somewhat dark, but clean and spacious. I have been restless this past hour, and so have tried my hand at writing those that I left in London.
I have sworn to marry Samuel Cowles, a resident of Brunhilda Moore's boarding house, whom I believe I have mentioned to you once or twice before, to Hildie's youngest daughter Miss Eve in three months time. I believe I shall be quite nervous and muddle the whole liturgy, as it is to be the first marriage ceremony I perform.
We rode by the manor house on our way to the parsonage. It is a very grand, old, estate. It is boarded up, as the owner is away at his other estate in West Suffolk. It's title is not very original, though; Hamilton Manor on Hamilton Street. I questioned Reverend Mitchell about it, and he believes that Hamilton was the first owner's name. Apparently, the home has been passed down for several generations, and is now owned by the Hoffmillers.
I believe dinner will be served very shortly, and so this letter must end. I have enclosed my current address, and hope to hear from you shortly.
Sincerely,
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Drakely
20611 Cherry Tree Lane
London
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
Oxford
A full month later, Edward was up to his shoulders in sermons, verses, psalms, Disciples, and Testaments. He had received numerous letters from Anna Drakely, who held up her end of the correspondence beautifully, and even a few from Gregory himself. Samuel Cowles had been known to send Edward a post or two a week, full of local gossip, and wedding plans, and Edward was always quick to respond, often enclosing the rough draft of another practice sermon, for Samuel to give his approval to. Surprisingly enough, there was one very important person Edward had yet to receive a single letter from: Miss Lucy Steele.