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Chapter Thirty-Seven
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.
Express
E. G. Ferrars
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
OxfordTuesday, March 22, 18--
Dear Friend,
It is with some uncertainty that I write you. I have had news of your Miss Dashwoods, which is not promising.
Anna and I were attending the annual ball at the Gordons', when by chance, I happened to overhear the names Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne, and therefore listened more intently.
The sisters have recently left London for Devonshire and home, but unfortunately have not made it far. I know not of particulars, but I am assured that upon arriving at the Palmer house for a slight stay, Miss Marianne has taken quite ill and the family is greatly concerned for her well-being.
It was later that I requested to be introduced to this man, only to discover him to be the very Mr. Palmer, newly a member of our Parliament. Upon further investigation, he was very obliging and recounted the whole tale to me once he was assured I was an intimate friend of yours, for it appears that Mrs. Jennings is his mother-in-law, and she had mentioned you as an intimate friend of the Dashwoods.
Mr. Palmer also assured me that he left the Miss Dashwoods' sides only by force, as he was required to accompany Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Palmer to Barton Park and return to London with the utmost expediency. He did mention, though, that he had left them in the very capable hands of your benefactor, Colonel Jonathon Brandon.
In short, Edward, Miss Marianne has fallen very ill and is residing in the Palmer house under the supervision of Miss Eleanor Dashwood and Colonel Brandon. It is feared that she has scarlet fever. Mr. Hurst fears for the worst, as the apothecary was none too confidant, but he assures me that the doctor is a capable and qualified man, and will do everything in his power to help Miss Marianne back to health. Until then, Mr. Palmer has graciously proposed that he will inform me of any improvement or change in Miss Marianne's health, so that I might tell you with all speed.
Therefore, my friend, do not distress yourself yet, I will provide more news by Wednesday at latest.
G. C. Drakley, etc.
Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Drakely
20611 Cherry Tree Lane
London
Do not distress myself?! Do not distress myself?! How am I to remain calm in such circumstances? Miss Marianne...! Possibly dying? She, of all people! Of all families who do not deserve this, the Dashwoods must deserve it the least! Marianne was always so healthy! But, no...She was not in health at London. Blast this British rain! She must have taken a chill...Con...Could she be contagious? Eleanor? Eleanor would not leave her side for the world; she may catch the fever as well! Edward was frantically pacing the floor, unheeding of the late hour and the loud noise his boots made on the hard wood floor. Father Mitchell came to Edward's room after an hour of his striding to inquire as to his grievance. When Edward related the story to him his face became grave.
"What do you wish to do?"
"If it were possible, Father, I would have departed for the Palmer house this past hour."
The Reverend nodded. "Your friend's are in distress, Edward. You are right. You must go to them."
Edward started at the Reverend's words, and immediately stepped towards the door. Father Mitchell raised his hand to stop him.
"Not this moment, my son. A few preparations must be made. I know that you will not sleep, but rest if you can. Come nine o'clock tomorrow morning, I will have a carriage awaiting you."
"H-How, Father? The parsonage owns no horse or cart, and we arrived by coach."
"The vicarage may not have the necessary transportation, but the manor house does. It is awaiting emergencies. I believe this is a matter of some importance."
"Thank you, Father."
Reverend Mitchell nodded once more, and left the room.
What to do now? Pastor Mitchell is correct; I will not sleep.
In Edward's state of mind, fearing for Marianne, but most of all fearing for Eleanor, he would not have accomplished much. He did try to pack a few items, but he was quickly lost in thought, again.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Edward came bounding down the stairs at half past eight. He had fallen into a fitful sleep at three o'clock that morning, and had awakened at half past six. He had bathed and dressed slowly to pass the time, though his heart was thumping and every bone in his body was telling him to be expedient.
"Patience, my son," Father Mitchell chided. "Break your fast before you take your leave. I have had a message from the Manor house, and there is a minor problem with the axle of the carriage. You will not be able to depart until noon."
"Noon?!"
"My son, which is better? To not go at all, or to be inconvenienced with a delay?"
Edward obediently sat at the table and stirred the porridge in his bowl. It was evident he had rather be doing something.
"Perhaps you would do me a small favor during your wait? I believe that the apples are ripe, if you would care to pick a basket."
He practically jumped to his feet and ran to the door. He retrieved the basket from the shelf above the great coats and strode out the door to the small orchard that consisted of six good, adult apple trees. He was soon busily deciphering ripe from rotten when Edward was distracted by a man speeding up the lane on a horse. He checked his pocket watch hurriedly. The post did not come for another two hours! Who was this?
He met the traveler at the gate.
"Sir, I am looking for Mr. Edward Ferrars."
"I am he."
"Sir, an express."
Edward put a few silver coins in the man's hand, and eagerly took the letter from him. "You may knock at the door. The Reverend will give you food and drink, if you wish it. You may leave your horse in the empty stable behind the house."
"Aye, sir. Thank you."
Edward scanned the outside of the note as he walked to the garden bench. It is from Gregory! He tore the letter open, and scanned the contents.
...Miss Marianne's fever has broken...
...She is already on the mend...
...Colonel Brandon was so kind as to transport Mrs. Dashwood to the Palmer house over night...
...Everyone is in good health and spir-
Edward did not need to read any more. He let the letter slip from his fingers to the ground, and his head collapsed into his hands, which rested on his knees. He took a few deep breaths and uttered a prayer to God for his kindness, and for rescuing the Dashwoods in their time of need.
Edward suddenly felt exhausted. He made his way tiredly to the kitchen and gave Father Mitchell the note. It was all he could do to trudge up the stairs to his room and fall onto the bed before falling into a deep sleep.
It was several days later while Edward was pulling the cart full of groceries back to the parsonage that he was astonished to see a horse standing in the normally empty stable.
Has someone taken ill? With this thought he left the cart on the path and dashed into the cottage where he found Reverend Mitchell, Brother Robert, and a messenger sitting at the table.
Reverend Mitchell looked up from his tea. "There you are, Edward. Have you got the groceries? Another letter has come for you."
"Outside the door," he said distractedly. "From Gregory?" Edward feared a relapse of Miss Marianne's, or worse, that Eleanor had taken ill.
Brother Robert shook his head and picked up the paper from the table. "This is from someone entirely new. A woman, I would presume."
Eleanor?! One glance at the letter told him that was wishful thinking. The lettering was too...too...too curlicue and fancy...Eleanor's hand was more moderate and graceful. Edward looked in confusion at the letter until it dawned upon him just whose script he was looking at. Miss Steele!
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Edward sat down and opened the letter cautiously, unsure of it's contents. This message determined what path would be chosen for him for the rest of his life. To Lucy, or to Eleanor? He said a quick prayer that it may be the latter, and tore open the letter.
E. G. Ferrars
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
OxfordMy dear Mr. Ferrars,
Edward, I know this news will be hard for you, but you are such a dear man that I know you will understand.
In your absence from London I was much in the presence of you charming brother. Why did you never tell me what a wonderful man he truly is? Very enchanting, I must say, and nothing like you!
But, my dear sir, I must come to the point of my letter. As I said, I was very much in his company this past while, and...Oh, Edward! I do hope you won't be cross when you learn that I am no longer to be your wife, but your sister!
It all happened quite suddenly, I assure you. I was faithful to you for six, almost seven, long years, never looking at another man! And indeed, I did not look at your brother, he looked to me. He believes I will make a very good society wife, and quite honestly Edward, Robert is much more affectionate. I am a loving soul, but I need demonstration of my betrothed's affection as well.
You are a good man, Edward, and will no doubt make some country girl a good husband. But I am not a country girl, dear sir. I thrive on people, and a busy life! I do not think I could stand gardening and cleaning and such.
And, Mr. Ferrars! We have your mothers blessing! She said she 'could not possibly afford to lose both sons,' and so she approves of the marriage! I truly think she has taken a fancy to me of late. We are in each other's company quite often, and she is very civil. Dear Mother Ferrars said that I was always a 'very dear girl' and she could think of no one better suited for her Robert!
I hope you will join in our joy and congratulate me, Edward. It is not like you to be selfish, and I have nothing but the best interests at heart. I love your bother deeply. Therefore, I do hope you will honorably break off our engagement, and not make any fuss. We had almost seven caring, yet lonely years engaged to each other, Mr. Ferrars. But now I must spend the rest of my life with a loving, doting husband, and never be without him again.
I wish you all the best of luck with your lessons and such. You will be a very fine pastor shortly if you could be less shy in front of people. What will your parishioners think!
And now, my dear brother, I must end this correspondence. The next time I see you will be my wedding day! But not to you, Mr. Ferrars. To your lovely brother!
I remain your ever-loving sister,
Miss L. Steele, etc
... Mrs. Robert Ferrars! Does that not sound exceedingly fine? That shall be one of the very last times I ever sign my name 'Steele.' I must say, I am very excited!
Miss L. Steele
5479 Hillcrest Road
London
Edward knew naught what to do. His shackles had been unlocked--he was free! After almost seven long years, Edward was a single man. Free to look at any woman he wanted, free to gallivant all over England! But Edward didn't want to gallivant and he didn't want just any woman.
His eyes were glistening and his breathing was rapid. Could it be true?
"Good news?" Brother Robert asked.
"I-Indeed, it is," Edward said as he fumbled while trying to refold the letter. "Very good news, indeed!" He tucked the message into the inside pocket of his coat and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "Ah...Father Mitchell...I was wondering...I have been here for almost two months now, I was, ah...Wondering how long my training might last. If you...If you saw an end somewhere in the near future. You see, I...I am no longer to b..." as he formed the words an inexpressible joy spread over him. "I am no longer to be married to Miss Lucy Steele."
"Truly?!" Father Mitchell raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yes...This, ah...letter informs me of her...her affection for my brother. For, for...Robert, and that she would be much happier with him."
"You have much to think on, the..."
"Yes?"
"You must decide whether or not you are still to join the clergy, young man. And if you do, you may want to wait some time for a better offer than Colonel Brandon's. Also, another important matter would be your Miss Dashwood and what you intend to do there."
"Honestly, sir, I have not much to think on. Those decisions have been decided for some time in my mind, except for one factor."
"Which is...?"
"Whether to wed Eleanor before or after I am ordained."
The Reverend smiled, and Edward continued after a brief pause. "Though I believe it would be better to wait until after I am established at Delaford so that I have some standing and position."
"I believe that it wise. Then you may go ask for your Miss Dashwood's hand in a month's time. In two weeks you may travel to _______ to be ordained by the Bishop, and travel immediately to Delaford. You may want to write Colonel Brandon and tell him of your plans, though, that he may have the vicarage in some sort of order for you."
"Thank you, Father," Edward grinned. "I shall write directly."
Colonel J. Brandon
Delaford Manor
17280 Hickory Hills Lane
DevonshireDear Sir,
I write to inform you that the circumstances under which you offered me the living at Delaford have changed considerably.
I am no longer to be wed to Miss Steele. I shall understand, sir, if you do not wish me to come to Delaford after this, though it is not what I wish.
I am to be ordained in two weeks time, and if you will still have me, I will be exceedingly happy to travel immediately to Delaford.
Sincerely,
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
Oxford
Miss L. Steele
5479 Hillcrest Road
LondonDear Miss Steele,
I will act the part of a gentleman, and consent to the ending of our engagement.
That my brother should have won your affections is quite astonishing, but if he is where your heart leads you, make haste at all cost.
You and my dear brother Robert have my most sincere congratulations, and I can only hope you will be exceedingly happy together.
Yours,
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Hamilon Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
Oxford
E. G. Ferrars, etc.
Hamilton Parsonage
2911 Hamilton Street
OxfordMr. Ferrars,
It is with great pleasure that I write to congratulate you on your upcoming ordinance. The parsonage's repairs have been made, accordingly. Now sir, all that is lacking is you.
Please inform me of the expected date on which you will arrive.
Sincerely,
Colonel J. Brandon, etc.
Delaford Manor
17280 Hickory Hills Lane
Devonshire
Chapter Forty
The ceremony passed without event, and was one of Edward Ferrars' proudest moments. He was ordained, and out of the seven men being made priests, was the only one with a parish awaiting him.
Colonel Brandon welcomed him quite warmly and assured him of his services should Edward need anything. It was his second day at Delaford that the good Colonel was showing Edward about the grounds and house that he broached the subject of Edward's formerly impending marriage.
"Mr. Ferrars, I was wondering how it had come to pass, if you do not mind my asking, that you are no longer to be wed to Miss Steele."
"No, sir, I mind it n-not. Miss Steele and I were young, and a bit impetuous. We were engaged for almost seven years, during which, we hardly ever saw each other. That in itself should have been enough to break many couples apart. In London this season we met again, perhaps for the tenth time since our engagement. We did not meet often by any means. I can not profess M-Miss Steele's feelings, but it is my feeling that we had both changed exceedingly during those seven long years, and were not the people we had once loved. Nonetheless, our engagement b-became public knowledge, and I think perhaps we both continued it more out of duty and perhaps feeling comfortable than love or any other matter. When my brother Robert and Miss Steele met they were instantly compatible, and found each other well suited, giving Miss Steele and I an excuse to leave an uncomfortable situation."
The Colonel nodded in acceptance of this answer and the two men continued on. After a time, Brandon spoke.
"Mr. Ferrars, I know you to be an intimate friend of the Dashwoods."
"I am honored to say that is a privilege I do have, sir."
"I believe you may know some of Miss Marianne's current situation..."
"I know that she has been recently ill and is still on the path to recovering."
"Aye, she is. But...I feel it fair to warn you, when next you see the Dashwoods, they are very much changed. It has been some time since you have seen them, has it not?"
"Yes, sir."
"And no doubt the last you saw Miss Marianne she was looking very poorly. Mr. Ferrars...I...You know Miss Margaret's eyes and ears are everywhere. She is a very observant child. Miss Margaret also loves the art of conversation."
"Yes," Edward laughed. "That is the Captain."
"She will no doubt inform you, as she has informed me, though I knew by my own eyes, that Miss Marianne's illness was not a common fever. It was more like a cleansing of her body of a lost love, I believe. She has been more. . .alive since her affliction. Do you know of a man by the name of John Willoughby?"
"I have but heard of him. He was recently married, was he not?"
"He was indeed. I hesitate to tell you what follows, but I feel I must."
The two gentlemen arrived atop the hill they had been climbing. Edward felt as if he could see the entire town from that vantage point.
"That is Barton Park," the Colonel gestured to the west. "And just beyond is Barton Cottage where the Dashwoods reside."
Edward was much amazed by the smallness of the Dashwood home, and could not take his eyes from it. He had known, of course, that he was near to the Dashwoods, but seeing the home where his beloved friends lived made the distance seem a mere trifle. Outside he could make out a few forms in the garden and desperately wondered if one of them was Eleanor. They were smaller than ants, and it was impossible to distinguish among them.
When the Colonel spoke again it took Edward by surprise. His tone had no trace of bitterness, but was soft and melancholy. At times Edward had to strain his hearing to fully understand the Colonel.
"Miss Marianne was quite in love with Willoughby. She devoted herself to him, and he to her. I had heard that if circumstances had not arisen he would have asked her to be his wife. As it is, Willoughby's aunt bestowed his inheritance on a different nephew once she learned of the scandal. . .the scandal between my ward and himself. She is with child in the country as of now. Willoughby had many gambling debts and so he left Barton Cottage for London where he married the richest woman that would take him. Miss Marianne has not completely recovered.
She believed that Willoughby would be coming back for her when he left; when she arrived in London with Mrs. Jenkins many things happened, including her realizing she had been so completely deceived in Willoughby's character. She would not eat nor sleep; her weakened health put her in no real condition to travel, but travel they did. As they broke their journey at the Palmer House Miss Marianne went out in the rain without protection against the elements. When she had been absent a long enough time for Miss Dashwood to be concerned I went in search of her, only to find her unconscious on the bluff over-looking what would have been Willoughby's future estate: Comb Magna. From there the fever set in. Miss Dashwood never left her side; the Palmers left for the sake of their new son, and I summoned Mrs. Dashwood. By the time Mrs. Dashwood and myself arrived Miss Marianne's fever had broken and she was slowly on the mend."
Edward slowly nodded, taking all of the new information in. "And the rest of the family? How have they been bearing the burden?"
"Miss Dashwood and Mrs. Dashwood are quite the same. A bit more solemn, perhaps. Margaret has grown up quite a bit, though she is still a carefree and happy child."
The two men quickly realized the feelings each had for the two eldest Dashwood sisters, and though it was never spoken, they silently were prodding each other to propose to their loves.
Edward Ferrars was the first to make his move. Colonel Brandon visited the Dashwoods often, but Edward always stayed at Delaford. On one fine day when Brandon had business in town, Edward made the two-mile journey to Barton Cottage riding the mount Colonel Brandon had permitted him to use when he would. He turned the steed around many times and headed back to Delaford, but just as many times, he headed Jove back to Barton. What would have normally been a ten-minute ride turned into two quarters of an hour.
He was nervously rehearsing what he might say as he galloped up the lane to Barton Cottage so that he would arrive quickly and not be able to turn round again.
"Mrs. Dashwood!" he would boldly say. "I love your daughter Eleanor with my entire being. If you will consent to our marriage, I will be the happiest of men."
Or perhaps he would request an audience with Eleanor first. She would smile sweetly into his eyes, and the second he murmured the words, "Will you?" she crept into his arms, and they were tenderly embracing.
"No! It is not. 'Tis...Edward!!"
Edward looked up at the sound of his name and started as he saw four forms retreating into the cottage. Do they not wish to see me? Am I not to be forgiven? Dear Lord, if ever I needed your presence, I am in greatest need of it now. He dismounted and the manservant come forward to care for his horse. Betsy opened the door to him, and he was announced hastily.
He could feel a bout of nausea coming on, but repressed it as best he could. The first person he saw when he entered the parlor was Eleanor. She was pale and shakily stood. Edward somehow managed to look at the other three women in the room; all had a look of forced complacency about them. Marianne shrank farthest from him as Mrs. Dashwood stepped forward and offered her hand.
"My dear Mr. Ferrars! May we wish you great joy!" Her voice shook with emotion.
What? "Th-Thank you..."
There was a long, awkward silence as Mrs. Dashwood retreated to stand behind Margaret and draw some comfort from her by placing her hands on her youngest daughter's shoulders.
"We are enjoying very fine weather..." Margaret finally stated. Edward saw Marianne nudge her, and she murmured, "But we are!"
He also recognized her comment as the phrase taught to young ones who could not find anything else to comment on. You will restrict your remarks to the state of the weather and the condition of the roads. Edward fulfilled his end of the 'proper conversation.'
"Yes, th-the roads are very dry."
There was another pause that seemed to last an eternity. "How is Mrs. Ferrars?" Miss Marianne finally asked pointedly. Edward did not catch on.
Why would she inquire after Mother? "She was v-very well when I-I left her."
Another heart-wrenching silence tormented the occupants of the parlor. Edward noticed birds chasing each other outside the window, and wished for a moment that he could join them. He could not remember proposing to Lucy, but he did not think he had suffered their amount of pain, either.
"I-Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?" Eleanor's voice broke the silence, and Edward felt a rush run through his veins hearing her speak once more.
Eleanor did not relieve the confusion though; Edward was quite dumbfounded.
Do they know something of my mother that I do not?
"N-No. My mother is in L-London."
Eleanor quickly picked up a cross-stitch piece from the table to busy her hands. "I meant to inquire after Mrs. Edward Ferrars," she corrected softly.
Light dawned in Edward's mind. They are unaware! They believe me to be married to Miss Steele!! He felt his ears burn. "Perhaps you-you mean--my brother--you mean Mrs.--Mrs. Robert Ferrars."
"Mrs. Robert Ferrars!"--was repeated by Marianne and her mother, in an accent of utmost amazement. Eleanor did not speak, but her eyes were no longer on her needlework--they were fixed on Edward.
They...How?...What am I...? Who coul-...?
Edward rose and paced to the window. He absently picked up a pair of scissors with the sudden need to be useful and put some of his energy into an activity. Edward cut a small strip of sheath into triangle pieces as he stammered. "Per-Perhaps you do not know--you--you may not have heard that my--my brother is lately married to--to the youngest--to Miss Lucy Steele."
Edward finally put down the scissors, having destroyed the material, and looked about the room feeling better for having aired the truth. The four women looked absolutely shocked, though Eleanor attempted to continue her needlework regardless. He noted that her hands were shaking violently, and wished to take them into his own and comfort her. "Yes," said he, "they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish."
He could do naught but stare as she bolted out of the room. He could hear her sobs in the corridor as she grabbed her shawl and outside as she ran down the lane.
I-I-I...What am I to do? She is obviously displeased. I-I...
"I- - I..." Edward could say no more. He quitted the cottage, and walked in the direction of the village, completely forgetting his mount.
Chapter Forty-One
Edward stormed down the winding lane. He was not mad at the Dashwoods, he was mad at himself. Mad, and befuddled.
Why did she run from me weeping? What have I done? Thoughts along the same line continued as he arrived back at Delaford. An unexpected guest was awaiting him in the parsonage.
A tall man stood from his seat near the window when Edward opened the door. "Perhaps I should have written, but I-- What is wrong, my son?"
"Father Mitchell!" Edward halted in his tracks.
"What is wrong, my son?" the old reverend repeated.
Edward briefly relayed the day's happenings, and Father Mitchell smiled.
"My son, I am quite astounded you-- No, perhaps not. The problem is, Edward, so unused to interpreting the actions of a woman...I at least believe you were quite mistaken."
Edward's head snapped up to look at Father Mitchell in wonderment. "Wha-?"
"As the one male among six females growing up...it is quite obvious, my son, that Miss Dashwood was merely overwhelmed. From all that you have told me of her, it would appear she keeps many of her feelings bottled in her heart. She could not suppress them any longer, just as you could not suppress your feelings when you learned the Dashwoods were in distress."
"Can this be so? Have I been so blind?"
"Indeed, my son." Father Mitchell's eyes twinkled as he stood from the table. "And now, as I was only passing through anyway, we shall both take our leave. You will return to Barton in the west, and I will head to London in the south. Fare ye well, Edward. Send me a post at my London address and tell me when you are to be married."
"Yes, Father...and thank you once again."
A quarter of an hour passed, and Edward was once again walking up the meandering path the Barton Cottage. As he reached the top of the hill he noticed a lone figure standing on the footbridge adjacent to the house, and assumed it to be Eleanor. He quickened his step when he could clearly make out her features.
Whether she noted him he knew not, but she did not turn to face him, either. She showed no sign of recognizing his presence until he was standing to her left. Edward reached down and covered her hand that was resting on the railing with his own. Only when she felt his touch did she turn to look at him, and once again turn to look at the babbling brook.
"Eleanor," Edward said softly. "Please." A sniffle was his only reply and felt his heart go out to her once more. "I-I met Lucy when I was very young. Had I had an active profession I never would have felt such an idle...foolish inclination." Edward tried to study her face, but she merely turned away, her head bent low.
"My behavior at Norland was very wrong," he was referring to the stolen kisses in the stables so very long ago. "But I convinced myself that you felt only friendship for me...and that it was my heart alone that I was risking." The only sound that met his ears was a small gasp that sounded as if Eleanor were perhaps hyperventilating. "I-I've come here with no expectations...only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so...that my heart is...and always will be...yours."
It was only now that Eleanor turned to look at the man who loved her so deeply. She was no longer crying, but her face was wet with the previous flood.
"Please marry me, Eleanor," Edward said softly, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Eleanor was instantly in his arms once again. They held each other for a moment, and their heads turned instinctively one to the other to seek out their love's lips.
Tender moments passed. When they finally parted Eleanor rested her head on his broad shoulder. Edward was grinning like a fool. That was not so very difficult.
"You will have to ask Mama, of course."
His eyes turned back to the cottage, and his smile broadened. "I think she will have no objections, Eleanor. Look." He lightly gestured towards the bay window at the back of the house. Once Eleanor looked the three figures scurried away into the recesses of the room.
How Edward loved being able to say 'Eleanor' instead of 'Miss Dashwood!' His Eleanor.
The lovers strolled hand in hand to the cottage where they were met at the back door by Mrs. Dashwood, Marianne, and Margaret.
"Edward, my dear son!" Mrs. Dashwood cried with tears in her eyes. "Let me be the first to congratulate you both!" She gave her future son-in-law a hug.
"Oh, Eleanor!" Marianne cried at the same moment. The sisters fell into each other's arms, laughing and crying with joy.
Only Margaret stood back in the doorway.
Only after Marianne had kissed Edward, Mrs. Dashwood had embraced her eldest daughter, and Eleanor had securely taken her fiancé's arm did they turn to Captain Margaret Dashwood.
"Will you not congratulate Edward and Eleanor?" Marianne scolded in bewilderment.
Margaret stood silently with her arms folded over her chest.
Mrs. Dashwood was quite flustered by the denial, Marianne fuming, and Eleanor looking quite a bit unhappy as she clung to Edward's arm.
"Captain?" Edward asked with concern. His face was tensed, his eyebrows furrowed.
Margaret of all people to object? Margaret?
Margaret held out for a moment longer, but could no longer keep up her facade. "Oh, Edward!!" She plunged forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, her head pressed against his chest.
"Oof!" Edward rocked back on his heels, but recovered immediately and fervently hugged his sea captain in return.
"My dear son, you must stay on to dinner. Please say you will! We will be having tea momentarily," Mrs. Dashwood pressed him.
"Of course, Madam," was Edward's immediate and grateful reply.
As they happy five sat together in the parlor sipping their tea Mrs. Dashwood finally posed the question that she and her two youngest did not know the answer of yet.
"My dear Edward, you...if you do not mind my intruding so rudely...we have yet to learn...?"
"What were the circumstances of Miss Steele's and your engagement?" Marianne asked with her usual bluntness.
"Mrs. Robert Ferrars," Margaret supplied happily.
Three women and a happy couple exchanged smiles momentarily, and Edward began his explanation.
"It was a foolish inclination on my side," he said, using words he had spoken not an hour ago. "The consequence of ignorance of the world--and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think--nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece," Edward admitted this, but looked gratefully to his fiancée sitting near him on the sofa. "yet had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should have very soon outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing with the world, as in such a case I must have done. But instead of having anything to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to choose for any for myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards, I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me, for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen. Granted, Miss Steele--Mrs. Robert Ferrars--was not always present, but I was always reminded of her. She appeared to be everything amiable and obliging. She was pretty too--at least I thought so then, and I had seen so little of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural, or an inexcusable piece of folly."
A long chat ensued in which all five took part. This lasted through dinner and well into the night. It was not until Mrs. Dashwood heard the clock chiming nine and declared it time for Margaret to retire that Edward had any idea of how late the hour was growing. He said he must take his leave, but an hour later he was bidding the family goodbye for the third time. Eleanor saw him to his horse, and a quarter of an hour later he finally rode away.
To say that he did not stay away long would be an understatement. He arrived at Delaford and was immediately accosted by Colonel Brandon who had grown quite worried at his absence. It was then half past eleven. Edward, of course, told Brandon the wonderful news, and the two men celebrated for the better part of an hour. When Edward awoke whistling the next morning at six o'clock he quickly wrote out two very brief expresses.
Father Mitchell
46 Grovers Corners
LondonApril 9, 18--
Correct as always; will you do the honor? Before Michelmas.
E.G.F.
Delaford Parsonage
Hickory Hills Lane
Devonshire
Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Drakely
20611 Cherry Tree Lane
LondonApril 9, 18--
Dear Gregory and Anna,
Love conquers all! Plan to be in Devonshire by Michelmas. Exact date will come later.
E.G.F.
Delaford Parsonage
Hickory Hills Lane
Devonshire
By seven-thirty that morning Edward was out the door with a spring in his step. Half an hour later he was happily breakfasting with the Dashwoods.
Chapter Forty-Two
Edward and Eleanor talked over many things during their five-month engagement. Not only wedding plans, but 'after marriage' plans as well. They talked of the past, present, and future, each telling the other their feelings during separation, and elation at being reunited. Details were poured out on every subject, and they were soon caught up with each other in every aspect and had a new found intimacy.
The lovers saw each other daily, and were not surprised when they did not tire of each other. The Dashwoods accepted Edward as part of the family immediately, as anyone could have foreseen. They were a very cozy five, often times six, as Colonel Brandon frequently stopped by.
Mrs. Ferrars adamantly opposed the wedding, thinking of Edward's marrying Eleanor as only a slightly lesser evil than marrying Lucy would have been. That is, until she had gotten to know dear Lucy. Edward was eager to have the breach healed between the family; he had never liked conflict. After visiting his mother in London for a day she consented to call him her son once more, though he would never see his inheritance, which, by the bye, had not been Edward's objective in the first place.
The Dashwoods of Norland surprisingly made very little protest. They soon replied that they would, out of duty, attend the wedding, but that they were altogether nonplussed.
When September the 13th came round a small group of family and friends met at Delaford for the joining of Miss Eleanor Dashwood and Mr. Edward Ferrars.
The Drakelys were also in attendance, glad that their friend was finally put from his misery and happy to meet the new Mrs. Ferrars.
Sir Middleton, Lady Middleton, and Mrs. Jennings turned up, Mrs. Jennings and Sir Middleton making their usual ruckus, Mrs. Jennings sobbing, claiming that Eleanor was like 'one of her own daughters.' She felt she had a hand in bringing the two together. Lady Middleton was her usual silent self, and merely kept her children round her.
Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne were letting silent tears fall in the front pew. Margaret, on the other hand, was beaming with joy, happy that her favorite shipmate was to now be her brother.
Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were also there with their small son. Mr. Palmer was being much more congenial than usual and holding his child. Mrs. Palmer was busy catching up with her mother and informing her of the latest London fashions that came straight from Paris. Edward was amused to note Fanny and his mother at times listening in on their conversation. Fanny even once made a comment that was well received by the other women, though Edward knew naught of what they were talking.
There were a few surprise visitors as well, though they were very welcome and indeed had been invited. Hildie Moore from the boarding house showed up proudly in her best Sunday hat with her family. Samuel Cowles had Hildie's daughters on each arm, his fiancée Eve and her sister Agatha.
Edward had been standing at the alter when the four walked in, awaiting John Dashwood to escort Eleanor down the aisle, but when he saw them he quickly left his post and gave each a hug. They found him to be much altered; very much the happy man, and declared that love treated him well.
Once Edward had returned to his place by Father Mitchell, Brother Robert began the wedding march. Eleanor's dress was simple but lovely. Edward could feel his heart pound fiercely as she joined him at the alter. Never had he felt so proud, so blithe, and so very much in love.
"My dear Edward!"
"Hello, Mother."
"May I congratulate you, my son! You have done very well for yourself."
Edward would have perhaps been affected if he had not recognized her tone as fake. "Thank you."
"Edward, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you."
He could feel himself bristle. "Certainly." He allowed himself to be taken by the arm away from his wife of less than one hour.
"Edward, I was thinking of your income, and how very little you will be able to do to provide for Mrs. Ferrars. Your income is very small, I assume. This made me think of your inheritance. Perhaps I was a bit...rash in taking everything away. I have made up my mind, my dear. You are to be reinstated."
"Moth--"
"No, I do not need thanks. I insist that you take it without a word."
"Madam, I implore you--"
"Tut, tut, tut, Edward! I will not have it!"
"Mrs. Ferrars!" Edward practically yelled. "Allow me a moment to speak, if you would!"
Mrs. Ferrars said nothing, but looked quite shocked at her son's sudden outburst.
"I thank you, but no," Edward said as quickly as possible so as not to be interrupted. His mother opened her mouth, but Edward held up his hand for silence. "Eleanor and I will be very happy without it. I would like to try to make my own way in the world. The pay may be meager, but I have much money saved. If you know not what to do with my inheritance leave it for any...for any children that may," Children? Me, a father?...I think I rather like the idea...! "...for any children that may come along down the road. Now... shall we return to the party and end this grotesque subject?"
Mrs. Ferrars opened and closed her mouth a few times, but finally, in some confusion, took her son's offered arm and silently let him lead her back to the gathering of people.
Edward left his mother with Robert and Lucy and wound his way through the small crowd back to Eleanor.
"What has happened?" she asked softly.
"Do you like children?"
Eleanor looked a bit bewildered. "Y-Ye...?"
Edward kissed her hand and took her arm.
The couple stood together as everyone bid them good luck and well wishes. The last of the visitors to give their congratulations were Edward's London friends.
"My dear Edward! We cannot tell you how happy we are for you," Anna Drakely said as she kissed Edward's cheek. "We know you will finally be truly happy. And Mrs. Ferrars," Anna kissed Eleanor's cheek as well, "it is a pleasure to meet you at last. Edward talked of no one else whilst in London with us during the season."
"Anna," Gregory admonished. "do not be so cruel to this old married man. Congratulations, Edward!" his friend gave him a firm handshake and a pat on the back that caused him to lurch forward a bit. "Congratulations, Mrs. Ferrars," as he kissed her cheek he looked at Edward and whispered loudly, "Though my wife is right, you know!"
A sob from behind caught Edward's attention. "Mother, you mustn't cry so!" Agatha put an arm around the stout figure.
"Hildie, whatever will you do when Eve and I marry?"
Brunhilda Moore turned to Edward. "B-But ye is sich a dear boy, an' we be so 'appy for ye! Oh, me Edwa'd; married at last, and me Eve goin' right along after ye with Sam!"
"When is the wedding, Samuel?" Edward turned to the man standing next to Hildie.
"It shall be June 24 of next year. You do remembe...? You will still marry us, won't you?"
"Of course, Samuel. I shall be happy to."
Samuel, Eve, and Hildie gave their congratulations.
"Miss Moore, how have you been? How is Mr. Greensmith?" Edward saw Agatha pale and realized he had perhaps brought about a bad subject.
"That scalawag!" Hildie fumed through her tears. "Left me house in the middle of the night, did that one! Owed a months rent, at that. Samu'l found out 'e 'ad gamblin' debts round the country. The rouge up and left fer Spain, 'tis rumored. But me Aggie, 'ere, she's got 'erself a new beau! They met down t' th'assemblies, wouldn't y'know! 'e's an hansom one, 'e is, Mr. Densmore."
"Mamma, we really must go if we are to arrive in Yorkshire by nightfall." Agatha interrupted. "We are staying with our cousins there, Mr. Ferrars. Congratulations, we do wish you well. Congratulations, Mrs. Ferrars."
Agatha nodded, and after a few more words from Hildie the happy four took their leave as well.
"Well, Edward," an unmistakably foppish voice came from behind. "T'would appear that we have both won our fair maidens. I am terribly sorry I had to steal Miss Steele away." Robert laughed at his own repetition of words. "I hear Mother has reinstated you."
Edward chose to ignore his second comment, but felt Eleanor's hand tighten on his arm at the last remark. He covered her hand with his as they slowly turned to look at their relatives. "Indeed, she did not, Brother."
"Really?" Robert was quite interested.
"Her offer was kind, but I have no need of it," he replied carelessly. Edward knew when Robert was trying to antagonize him and that at the moment Robert was merely being himself.
His brother turned to the ornament clinging to his arm. "My sweet Lucy and I have just come from Venice. Where are you two lovebirds journeying to?"
"We will be staying at the Parsonage," Eleanor answered for her husband. "We do not intend to travel at the moment."
"Oh, that is a shame! Italy is so lovely this time of year; I do wish everyone could see it," Lucy gushed. "Oh, my dear Eleanor! Is it not perfect that we be sisters? I could have wished for nothing more in life than what I have now. I am sure dear Edward will make you exceedingly happy," Edward bristled at the use of his Christian name by Lucy. "He is a sweet man, though I do think I have come off with the longer end of the stick!" she laughed. "My Mr. Ferrars and I must be leaving, though. Our boat to Greece leaves in two days, and we must get to Brighton as soon as possible. Fare you both well!" Lucy kissed their cheeks. "Come along, Mr. Ferrars."
"Goodbye, dear brother and sister," Robert turned to leave as well. "And Edward," he added as an after thought. "...I am happy for you..."
"Thank you, Robert."
As the guests left Colonel Brandon approached the happy couple with an offer. That as wedding present they stay at the manor house for some time and renovate the Parsonage how ever they liked at the Colonel's expense. It was in great disrepair even with the small improvements he had made before Edward came, and not suit for a newly wed couple to live in.
As the Dashwoods, Colonel Brandon, and the Ferrars adjourned to the dining room for dinner Marianne presented her sister with a cross-stitch.
Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.
It is immortal as immaculate Truth,
'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth,
Drops from the stem of life--for it will grow,
In barren regions, where no waters flow,
Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom...
Edward was happily embarrassed at her next comment.
"Is love a fancy or a feeling?" Marianne asked softly as she hugged Eleanor's arm to her. "Or a Ferrars?"
Epilogue
Eleanor's marriage divided her as little from her family as could well be contrived, without rendering the cottage at Barton entirely useless, for her mother and sisters spent most of the two months between the two marriages at Delaford and Delaford Parsonage. Mrs. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford; for her wish of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together was hardly less earnest. It was now her darling object. Precious as was the company of her daughter to her, she desired nothing so much as to give up its constant enjoyment to her valued friend; and to see Marianne settled at the mansion-house was equally the wish of Edward and Eleanor.
With such a confederacy against her--with a knowledge so intimate of his goodness--with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, which at last, though long after it was observable to everyone else--burst on her--what could she do?
Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favorite maxims. She was born to overcome an affection formed so late in life as seventeen, and with no sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily to give her hand to another!-- and that other, a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom she had considered too old to be married,--and who still sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat!
But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting,--instead of remaining even forever with her mother, and finding her only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm and sober judgement she determined on,--she found herself at nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties, placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the patroness of a village.
Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, believed he deserved to be;--in Marianne he was consoled for every past affliction;--her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves, and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby.
Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, without attempting a removal to Delaford; and fortunately for Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them, Margaret had reached an age highly suitable for dancing, and not very ineligible for being supposed to have a lover.
Margaret, naturally, passed through the next years with every comfort, when the elders have all left, the youngest inevitably receives. At eighteen she was married to Richard Grant, a man who made his name and fortune as a Captain in the Queen's Navy. Once Captain Richard Grant was in charge of his own ship Margaret sailed with him on every voyage and they made their home on the sea. They regularly visited Barton and Delaford, and in their old age retired to Barton Park.
The first month of Edward and Eleanor's marriage was spent with their friend at the mansion-house, from whence they could superintend the progress of the Parsonage, and direct every thing as they liked on the spot;--could choose papers, project shrubbery, and invent a sweep. Neighbors were able to visit the Ferrars in the Parsonage by Michelmas. For Edward and Eleanor's part, they knew themselves to be the happiest couple in the world. They had, in fact, nothing to wish for, but the marriage of Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for their cows.
As years passed each family was blessed with children. Margaret and Richard had two children, Thomas and Phillip, who also became sea captains in their later years. Marianne and Jonathon Brandon had one daughter on which they both doted. Jane grew up with her mother's ferocity of spirit and charm, but her father's common sense and logic. Edward and Eleanor were the proud parents of four children. Alexander, the eldest, became a gentleman farmer and was very much like his father in almost every respect. Kathryn was the picture of her mother and the spirit of her Aunt Margaret. James and Rosemary were not only identical twins, but alike in personality as well. Both very logical, yet fun loving, and true romantics like all of their Dashwood relations.
After seventeen years of marriage...
Alexander nudged his younger sister and pointed to his mother and father across the lawn walking hand in hand.
Kathryn sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair back into place. "What is to be seen there? Mamma and Father act nothing like the Brandons. They have no passion! I will never marry where there is not passion and love."
"Kathryn!" Alexander barked with anger. A bit more gently he continued, "You mustn't say that about Mother and Father. How can you say there is no passion and love between them? Simply because they are not as open as Aunt and Uncle Brandon does not mean that there is not feeling--"
"Your brother is quite right, Kathryn."
"Aunt Margaret!" both children were startled to see their aunt standing behind them eavesdropping.
"Have I ever told you of the day your father proposed to your mother? I was younger than you Kathryn, at that time. I admired your parents love for each other very much, and am happy that I now have a relationship similar to theirs." She sat on the blanket with her eldest niece and nephew. "Watch them now and observe how happy they are. The way they lace their hands together and stroll with the same stride. I have many times been the happy witness of them exchanging looks. Observe your father later as he watches her movements...always watching. I too thought long ago that the only kind of true love was the openly passionate. I believed Eleanor had no such feelings. My thoughts were proven wrong from the moment I first saw them together. It is very rare that you meet a family where are three young women are married so happily to such loving husbands. Do not shun your parents love, Kathryn, when it clearly runs through their veins. Rather, hope that one day you too might be as happy as your Aunt and Uncle Grant and Brandon, and as deeply in love as your parents."
The End.