Beginning, Previous Section, Section III

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Chapter Eight

Arthur Webb woke up to the sounds of hoof beats passing by his window. He did not need to rise and look to know whom it was. Only one person would be going out to ride at four in the morning. 'Look after him Ghost. You're all Edmund has right now,' beseeched Webb.

A soft knock at his door brought Webb out of his silent prayer for Edmund. Grabbing his trousers from the chair by his bed he put them on and then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come in, Colin."

The boy stuck his head in the room before saying, "Is everything alright with Mr. Bertram, sir?"

Arthur looked into the bright and intelligent eyes of the young boy, who was everyday becoming more of a young man, and replied, "No, Mr. Bertram is struggling with a burden. Burdens are a way of life as I am sure you well know." A look of understanding and pain passed between them as they both remembered the circumstances that brought Colin to Northbridge. Continuing Webb said, "We each have our own to carry. What makes us men is not running from them, but there are days when confronting them means that we have to run from the rest of the world for a time. Helps keep the mind from breaking. It's like when we are training a horse, Colin. We put pressure on the horse to learn something new. We push them to face the fear of the unfamiliar. However, we also give them breaks when we just let them be but they know that they will have to come back and work. Do you understand?"

The boy did not respond right away as he was contemplating what had been said. Webb was never more proud of him than in that moment. Colin was a smart boy but at fifteen he showed wisdom beyond his years when he stopped and thought about Webb's words.

"I do that too sometimes, sir" Colin responded softly. Webb knew that Colin still relived the days of daily beatings when he lived with his father through the nightmares that sometimes haunted the boy's slumber. "When I don't talk very much to you and I stay around the horses more, that's how I get away."

"I know," Webb replied quietly. He could not count the times that he had found Colin wrapped in a blank lying in Ghost's stall. The great gray beast watched over Colin like a sentinel, protecting him from the horrors that he survived but not without scars.

With a nod of understanding shared between the two of them, Colin turned and exited the room, softly closing the door. Webb knew that the boy would not back to his own bed but start getting ready for the day by getting all the grain and hay ready for the horses. Putting on his socks and boots, Webb's mind began to go through his responsibilities for the day. The new barn construction was moving forward at a consistent pace and with only two more fields to finish the first stage of Northbridge's horse project would be ready for use in a few short weeks.

Miles away a woman stood in the window facing the same new barn that was on Webb's mind. Where his thoughts held a controlled anticipation, Fanny's were filled with dread. The stable represented how close Edmund had come to her and how dire her situation was

The door opened behind her and soft footsteps followed. Fanny turned and saw the loving face of Hanna, like a healing balm for a burn. The older woman had such a peace and uninhibited way of living that Fanny prayed silently that some day she would be blessed with the same countenance. Hanna recognized the wounded look in Fanny's eyes and she sent up her own plea that the Lord heal the younger woman and make her whole again.

After growing up in the emotionally closed atmosphere of Mansfield Park, Fanny still had trouble with physically showing her affection for others. Hanna believed, to the marrow of her bones, that sometimes a good long hug could make any situation easier to handle just by simply holding the other person and letting them know that they were not alone in the struggles that the world threw at them.

Without saying a word Hanna opened her arms and wrapped Fanny in a soft, safe, and loving embrace. Stiff at first from surprise, Fanny slowly relaxed into the arms of the only woman whom she knew truly loved her. Swaying slowly back and forth, Hanna rubbed and patted Fanny's back. Time was of no concern to the older woman as she held the young woman, only the healing that the embrace provided. As the love Hanna felt for the woman flowed through her into Fanny, a peace settled on the older woman's heart. 'Everything was going to be as the Lord intends' Hanna thought to herself.

A person who expected nothing in return had never, in her memory, held Fanny so lovingly. In that moment Fanny loved Hanna as a daughter loves a mother. With each pat on her back the emotional turmoil became more bearable and not so overwhelming. Fanny clung to the older woman. Hanna was all that held her up from crumbling under the weight of her grief, bitterness, and fear of the past and also the shock from realizing that she was loved by a person who did not and had never asked why she was plagued by such things. It was through this display of love that Fanny found the strength to say, "Hanna, it is time you and Sam learned the true nature of my past."

Hanna continued to hold Fanny and replied in a soft soothing tone, "I knew you would tell us, love, in your own time. Before you do though I want you to know that Sam and I both think of you as the child we were never able to conceive. Nothing you say will alter our feelings."

Fanny pulled back and looked at Hanna closely. All her life she had wanted to be able to love and be loved without the fear of ridicule or rejection and now this woman was offering such a gift. It overwhelmed her and at that moment a small part Fanny's heart, so scarred and wary, was healed.

Releasing Fanny from her embrace, Hanna put her arm around the younger woman's small waist and teasingly scolded. "You had no supper last night, love. Let's go get some food in you before you blow away."

A feeble smile was the only reply Fanny was able to give. Upon entering the kitchen the smells of fresh baking brought Fanny's stomach to life and it began to loudly clamor for sustenance. Hanna grinned and gently pushed Fanny towards one of the chairs at the table. Fanny watched as Hanna bustled about and in a few minutes she had tea, scones, cookies, biscuits, bread, jam, and butter all on the table.

Just as the tea was ready Sam came through the door that connected the rooms he and Hanna shared to the kitchen. While Fanny was busy buttering her bread, Hanna looked up and saw her husband. After so many years of marriage few words were needed to communicate. Sam immediately knew that something profound was about to take place and the emotions in his wife's eyes told him more than words could ever express. This exchange took place before Fanny had looked up from her bread.

"Good Morning, Fanny," he rumbled.

"Good Morning, Sam,"

Hanna took the tray with the tea and cups, but Sam reached across her and picked it up. Walking over to the table, Sam made note of the exhausted slump of Fanny's shoulders. "You should rest, Fanny."

"I will but I have to tell you and Hanna something of my past that I have never shared with anyone. But first I would like to have a bit to eat and some normal conversation, even if it is just a show."

"Well then you've matched yourself up with the right pair," came Hanna's smiling response.

"Indeed, you have," confirmed Sam.

For the next half hour the kitchen was filled with the soft chatter and laughter of those people that made up their unorthodox family. They discussed taxes and how unfair it all was, to the popularity of the Frederick Mason or rather Fanny's books, and how glad they were to be together. Love was the unspoken yet cherished bond that held them together.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, Fanny began, "You both know that I was not born into a wealthy family, in fact we lived in poverty. I was the second oldest of seven children. The marriage of my parents was unlike many of that time. They married for love though I wonder if they ever loved their children. I never remember them saying that they did to me. Looking back I can see their love for what it was, all consuming. It left no room to allow others to share in its intensity. It was a selfish love for only two.

My mother's family was greatly disappointed in her and all but shunned her after she married. However, the youngest of my mother's sisters was a softhearted romantic and remained in contact, albeit sporadically. When I was ten year's old my mother wrote to her sister and asked if she would be willing to take me into her house to learn the ways of being a gentle lady. My aunt answered many weeks later that my presence at Mansfield Park was requested. I left my family that day and never saw them ever again. Two years later, I was told that all, save my older brother who was at sea, died of cholera.

My life at Mansfield was not what I believed it would be. My mother's older sister, Aunt Norris also resided there and was responsible for me. She made it very clear from the beginning that I was little more than a burden and that if I was not on my best behavior and grateful for the Bertram's benevolence that she would ship me back home or off to an orphanage. That last threat only came about after my parent's death. I believed her as only a child can. I learned to bury my emotions underneath the illusion of meekness. There were only two people that I revealed myself too, my cousin Edmund and my brother William.

Edmund kept me sane by being my only friend in a house full of flighty and silly female cousins, and adults who might not have set the best examples for the children. My elder aunt had selfish aspirations to challenge those of Marie Antoinette, my aunt Mrs. Bertram who medicated herself into a stupor daily, and an uncle who was willfully blind to all but that which was deemed acceptable and appropriate for him. I also had another cousin, Edmund's brother Tom, I never saw him much as a child but he frightened me. As you can both see, it was not the most ideal place to grow up in."

Sam and Hanna were listening intently. With a callus-roughened hand Sam reached across the short distance and took Fanny's pale hand in his. Giving it a reassuring squeeze he said in a deep emotion filled brogue, "Well, we love ye' lass." Hanna knowing that Sam never reverted back to his original accent unless touched deeply took his other hand in hers.

"I know, Sam," said Fanny. "I love you both so much."

After a brief pause she continued, "My life was not completely horrific at Mansfield. My Uncle Bertram decided early on, much to the dismay of my Aunt Norris that I should be included in all the activities that his daughters' were privileged enough to be offered. This was done more out of a sense of duty, not concern for my education. I think he felt responsible for ensuring that I would not be a disgrace to his name.

I was able to share in the best education a girl was allowed and found quickly that writing and reading were my passions. The tutor's brought in for Maria and Julia soon learned that I was the one who was eager to be taught and they challenged me more than the other two. Neither girl was upset by this because it meant that less attention and expectations were placed on them. I was also lucky enough to be given riding lesson and after several months of struggle I became a proficient rider. It's amazing how free from worry and care a person can be while on the back of a horse. It was one of the joys in my life and I miss it terribly.

As I mentioned my Aunt Norris was not pleased by my Uncle Bertram's decision. While I was allowed to participate in all the things the girls did, it was under the stipulation that only if my other aunt, Mrs. Bertram, did not need me. Aunt Norris took it upon herself to see that I was kept busy with any trivial thing she could create. Here again is where Edmund kept me from going mad. More times than I can count he would excuse Aunt Norris' demands as being ridiculous, offer to do them himself, or help me complete whatever was required of me. This did not happen all the time but in the eyes of a young girl one time was enough for Edmund to become my white knight and protector.

He was my friend and over the years I grew to love him with so much of myself that I lost all track of where we separated inside my own mind and heart. Was it an infatuation? Yes, but in my mind it was the purest emotion I had. I could express it whereas I was forced to suppress all the others. Oh, I did not ever tell him, but I showed my love for him through my actions. We talked about everything and shared so much. I read every book he ever suggested so that we could discuss the topics that we both found interesting. Eventually, I became comfortable enough to challenge and question him on almost everything expect how he felt about me.

He would say that he loved me like sister but as we got older I always felt that there was a stronger emotion just below the surface that he was unwilling to face. If I just pushed him he might have admitted to it. However, my fear of rejection and the chance of losing his friendship kept me from delving deeper. There were times though when I would see something deep in his eyes, but it was so fleeting that I know now it was the just the hopeful imaginings of a sad and lonely young woman.

The year that I turned eighteen brought with it a darkness that would change every person who called Mansfield Park home. Henry and Mary Crawford arrived early that Spring. From the very beginning I did not trust either one of them. They were too charming and their actions were so practiced that I felt like I was seeing the most amazing pair of actors to ever not perform on stage.

They became instant favorites with everyone else in the family. Maria, who was engaged to be married that same summer, was immediately smitten with Henry. He was a handsome man, but it was his charm that made him so powerful and potent. It was sickening to watch as she threw herself at him while in the presence of her ridiculous fiancé, who was too foolish to see it. Julia was also smitten with Henry but she was more cautious than her sister. Where Henry was light and charm, Mary was a rare beauty with dark hair and eyes that many men believe hold the secrets to all their questions. Edmund was equally, if not more affected by Mary than his sisters were of Henry. Aunt Norris was charmed with a simple look and smile from Henry and a well-placed compliment on her dress by Mary. Uncle Bertram was hardly ever around during this time but he did approve of widening the limited social circle that Mansfield provided. Aunt Bertram was blissfully ignorant of anything save her opiate.

As I said before, I was instantly uncomfortable in the presence of Henry and Mary. I did not trust them. Their manners and speech were of the highest quality but I always felt that there was something evil and rotten underneath the carefully applied mask that they both wore. Concealing one's true self from others was something I knew, actively practiced, lived with, and recognized in others. The masquerade I performed became my natural defense against being hurt. However, the facades that Henry and Mary wore were of a different nature. I used mine for protection from the world, whereas, they used theirs to cause harm but also to hide the darkness within themselves from others.

Mary was the one who troubled me the most. From the beginning she singled me out and paid me more attention in those first few months than most of the family had in my eight-year stay at Mansfield. Her offer of friendship and kindness caused my blood to run cold at times. I did not like her and I think she at least sensed my discomfort in her presence. However, even with all her kind words there were times when I felt her gaze and the malevolence that seemed to radiate from her during those looks confirmed in my mind that she was evil.

My feelings for Henry were not much different. He was a rake and I did not trust him but his charm was potent and I admit to being flattered when the recipient of it. Always in the back of my mind though was the nagging worry that he was playing a game and I was his next victim. Underneath all the charm I sensed a predator but one more subtle, more dangerous. His charisma drew people in and blinded them to the true man.

I kept myself distant from Henry and his sister Mary but looking back now I realize that I proved to be a greater challenge to them because of my reluctance to accept them. By not believing them and following after them like a sheep I became their ultimate target."

Stopping in her narration, Fanny looked up from the teacup she had been clutching like it was all she had separating her from safety and a long fall into nothingness. Hanna wordlessly filled the cup back up. Fanny stirred in sugar and cream. After taking a sip she continued on with her tale in a toneless and defeated voice.

"That same spring my cousin Tom fell ill due to his wild living and the neglect of people whom he called friends. He was ravaged by fever for months. Aunt Norris assigned me the duty of nursing him while my Uncle Bertram fell into a bottomless well of despair. He blamed himself for his son's condition. I did not find out why until months into the illness.

Uncle Bertram owned a plantation in the Americas. As you know slavery is something that is not seen as particularly wrong in some circles. It was, however, a practice that Tom grew to hate. He visited the plantation with his father and witnessed atrocities that drove him to despise his father. In a fit of rebellion my cousin left the plantation and upon his arrival in London began trying to drown the horrors of what he saw, and the father whom he never really knew in strong liquor and wild living. Needless to say it all caught up him in the end when he became ill.

Sadly the rest of family was all but immune to the near death struggle that took place everyday on the floors above their sitting rooms and small gatherings. Maria was married mid-summer to her Mr. Rushworth, who was blind to her infatuation with Henry. They moved to an estate not far from her birthplace, but she was a frequent visitor as were the Mansfield residents to her home. Life it seemed would continue on with very little thought for the dying man in their midst.

Through the months of nursing Tom and observing Uncle Bertram, my fear of them both turned into pity. My uncle eventually decided late that summer to sell the plantation. It was during that month long trip to London that Mary and Henry tightened the grasp they had on Mansfield.

An affair between Maria and Henry began just a few days after Uncle Bertram left. I remember the smug look on Henry's face when I stumbled upon them wrapped in each other's arms. I told no one about what I saw because I knew no one would believe me. It made me physically ill when I saw it because a small part of me believed that underneath all the masks that Henry wore was a man that I would not have been ashamed to know had he any morals.

Henry was very intelligent and he had drawn me into several conversations where we were able to have some interesting and thought provoking discussions. Yet, I was uncomfortable around him and he knew it. Nursing Tom became my excuse to avoid Henry. Knowing this, he made a point of seeking me out whenever I was not with my ill cousin. We had several conversations, all within the confines of the library or the in presence of the family. However, his ability to create an intimate atmosphere where we were the only two people who seemed to exist, even in the company of others, was uncanny. It was trying on my nerves to say the least, but I believed at the time that we had come to a kind of understanding that those short discussions were all I was comfortable with. Unfortunately, Henry had other schemes in mind.

During those weeks I watched as Henry strung Maria along. Her husband was blissfully ignorant. Mr. Rushworth, poor man, believed himself to be in love and that was enough. My resolve to remain aloof towards Henry was justified in my mind because of his actions.

My one relief was found in my cousin Julia. She was wise enough to see that whatever she thought she had felt for Henry early on was best left to die. I saw her change during that time but unlike others, for the better. She came out from underneath the oppressive and manipulative shadow of Maria and realized that she had a mind of her own. We became what I like to think of as friends or at least as close as we could manage considering our history and I forgave her as we began to nurture a bond.

While my relationship with Julia grew, Edmund and I began to wane. It was a subtle and yet quickly accomplished when Mary drew him to her completely. My heart shattered the night Edmund told me that he loved her. I hoped that he would see beneath the veneer that she so skillfully wore but his infatuation with Mary increased as each day passed. The greatest torture was that I was his best friend and he had no thought as to how I might feel. Granted, I had never told him that I loved him out loud, but after years of expressing it through my actions I had hoped and prayed for more than just the brotherly love that he offered. Even more agonizing was when he asked me to become friends with Mary. I also learned that Henry had been asking after me and my worst fear was realized. Edmund believed that a match between Henry and I would be perfect and hoped to orchestrate it.

In all my years at Mansfield I never looked forward to the return of my uncle more than when the month of his absence while on business in London ended. He had come to mean so much to me in a short time that my emotions, so long suppressed, frightened me with their intensity. The moment I saw him upon his return to Mansfield Park I knew that he was not just ill, but deathly so. The pallor of his skin was an unhealthy ashen color. But when I looked in his eyes I saw in them a frantic light of inevitability. He spoke to no one save Edmund and me. According to the doctor, his heart was failing him.

There was a haunted look in his eyes whenever he looked at me. He told Edmund and I that he had updated his will. It was to be understood that I was part of the family and that he had provided for me. Shock could not begin to describe my feelings when I heard that. My future had never been a bright spot and the best that I ever expected was to obtain a reference and become a governess.

The day he died plays in my mind often..." she whispered as her voice trailed off and silence over took them. Like a flash Fanny was captured in the memory.

"Fanny, I do not have much time. There is so much that I want to say to you but time is against me," croaked the dying man.

"Uncle, please..." she assured softly taking his frail hand in her own.

"Listen," he rasped as his breathing became more labored. "I want you to know...that I am sorry for what I have and have not done for you. I thought...I was doing right by you. You became as a true daughter to me these past months."

A coughing fit overcame him as his words washed over Fanny. She could barely remember her own father. After his death she had smothered all memories of him, burying them in the deep recesses of her mind. Now a man, who less than a year before had never truly looked at her, was saying that he loved her as a daughter. Tears came her eyes as her uncle's coughing subsided. She started to say something but was again halted by him.

"Remember, Fanny. Remember when I am gone...that I love you..." he whispered as he succumbed.

"I love you too, Uncle," she choked out as his last breath rattled from his lungs.

Blinking rapidly as tears clouded her vision, Fanny looked up from table to see the two people who offered her the unconditional love she had sought but never truly received from her family.

"Fanny, you are too upset to go on. Do not feel like you must share all of this with us right now," came Hanna's shaky voice.

Taking a shuddering breath Fanny replied, "No, I must finish this. Please, you have both waited so patiently for me to open myself up to you. Do not stop me now when I have finally found the courage to do so." The older couple shared a long and poignant look with each other before turning back to Fanny and nodding in agreement.

Fanny continued, "The day Thomas Bertram died, the fever, that had continually attacked his son for months, broke. I did not know how to handle my grief over the loss of my uncle. In truth I had barely begun to know him before he died. Struggling between sorrow over Uncle Bertram's death and relief over Tom was difficult. No one really knew how close I had grown to my uncle so my misery was considered less acute than the rest of the family.

I was not allowed to attend the funeral. Aunt Norris told me that I could visit the grave after the 'true' family had finished their grieving. To be honest I was relieved, preferring to mourn in private. However, I was angered by my aunt's words. She made the mistake of saying this in the presence of a conscious Tom, who was continuing to fight the exhaustion that the fever had brought to his body. After she left he said that he never wanted her to come into the room again. He wrote a very short note; which communicated his wishes and bade me to give it to Edmund.

Since his fever had broken Tom had been fading in and out of a blessedly restful sleep. Whenever he was awake we would talk while I fed him a simple broth. It was exhausting for him but I learned that during his illness he had been aware of my presence and he thanked me for caring for him. I told Tom that I had, at first, been ordered to by Aunt Norris to tend him but after a short time I remained out of sheer resolve to see him recover. We developed a bond and in the coming days I was grateful for it. In that time I shared with him how his father blamed himself and the related actions that my uncle took trying to correct them. Tom forgave his father and himself for what had happened. I believe that was when Tom really began to heal and recover from the illness that had ravaged his body and soul.

A fortnight after my uncle's death his lawyers arrived at Mansfield Park for the reading of the will. The entire family gathered in Tom's room as the document was read. The estate and all surrounding land was left to Tom as well as the care of his mother and youngest sister until she came of age. Edmund was willed the parsonage and bit of land, Julia was left with £30,000, which was left under Tom's care until she turned twenty-one. Maria had already received her inheritance when she married Mr. Rushworth.

The lawyer then requested that everyone leave the room except for Tom, Edmund, and myself. I will never forget the sense of foreboding that overtook me. Aunt Norris made a comment about how sure she was that there would be something in the will for her because of how she had sacrificed so much of her life for the Bertram's. I heard Maria assuring her that she was certain that her father would recognize her service as well. As the door closed the lawyer took a large folder out of his bag and put it on the make shift desk.

In the next few minutes my life completely and utterly changed. Two things were revealed to me that day. The first shock being that I would be left £20,000 upon marrying, but under the condition that Tom and Edmund chose or preferably approved my future husband. In a letter, given to me by the lawyer that day, my uncle explained why he had used such a stipulation. He was worried that I, being so trusting, loving, and innocent, would be taken advantage of and wanted to assure himself that I would be protected. His concern for my future meant more to me than the wealth he left in my name. Tom and Edmund were both taken aback by the gesture but agreed that it was right and they were overjoyed.

The next revelation was what confirmed in my mind that some people in this world are malicious and wicked, and do not need a reason to hurt others. In another letter, read by the lawyer, I found out that I had a living sister whom I believed had died. The fever that had ravaged my family did not destroy it all. My sister Susan had survived."

"Fanny," cried Hanna interrupting, "you never told us that you had a sister, just a brother. Why?"

"Hush, Hanna," Sam said softly but watching the younger woman whose features had hardened, devoid of any emotion. "Let her finish."

Fanny turned her gaze onto Sam and continued in clipped tones, the only indication of how affected she was by the memory, "I learned that my Aunt Norris had intercepted a correspondence all those years before, simply addressed to Sir or Madam of Mansfield Park, from the doctor, who tended my family until their death's, stating that my sister had survived the fever that destroyed my family and inquiring about whether she could come to Mansfield Park. Writing in the guise of Uncle Bertram, Aunt Norris replied in the negative and told the man to send her to an orphanage or keep her, but to never write again. The doctor, being too old to care for the small child, sent her to an orphanage but continued to write about her condition and growth just out of spite. He apparently hated the idea of a child with family denying her a home. I agree with him. Before his own death, the doctor informed the orphanage that one of their charges had wealthy relatives and that they might be willing to take in the charge that was left at the orphanage or donate funds to help support the haven for children. As a result, the orphanage began writing asking for support.

This was how my uncle found out. While in London selling the plantation, he had all of his mail re-routed to the house in town. A very well timed letter from the orphanage, asking for him to help support the unfortunate children, one whom had been part of a less fortunate side of the family. Through countless inquiries my uncle uncovered the truth that I just shared with you.

To say that I was upset was an understatement. Anger like I had never felt in my life burned through me. I remember hearing Tom ask that Aunt Norris be summoned. When she arrived Tom told her that she was to leave Mansfield and never contact anyone in the family again. At first she did not understand but Edmund explained to her what Uncle Bertram had discovered. I believe Edmund had hoped that she would express sorrow for what she did but her words were unforgivable. With a sneer she said, 'I should have done the same to Fanny. My sister was worthless and her children are no better. It would have been a blessing if Fanny had been home when the fever took her family.'

That was the last thing I ever heard her say and the last time I saw her. Tom ordered that all of her belongings be packed and what she could not take with her would be shipped to her. Edmund oversaw the removal while Tom gathered his mother and sisters to explain what happened and that they were have no contact with the woman. Julia was appalled by such callus behavior by her aunt. My Aunt Bertram simply sat and accepted Tom's words. Maria was predictably standing by her aunt. She said that Aunt Norris was thinking of them in her actions. Another child to care for would have taken away from the rest of them. I remember Julia's anger and Tom's disgust with their sister.

I will never hope to understand what would cause someone to do something so horrific to an innocent like Susan. Tom promised me that he would start a search for my younger sister. I did not have much hope. I wrote to my brother, William, and he began his own independent search for her. We soon found out that Susan had left the orphanage. We never found out if she was adopted. All records of her departure were never found. That was nine years ago. She would be about twenty-one now. I doubt we will ever find her. She is probably does not remember anything of her younger years."

A tear slipped down Fanny's cheek as she said this. Hanna took her hand in sympathy and sorrow while tears of her own glistened and fell from her eyes. Sam wiped the moisture from his own face and did the same for his wife before speaking, "You have been through so much Fanny, alone through it all. God only allows those to suffer as much as they can bare."

"He has broken me more times than I can count, Sam. When does it end? Why can I not just live in peace with my son and search for my family. Why must all these ghosts and nightmares of the past come back now? Why?" she sobbed with large eyes that begged for answers.

Neither Hanna nor Sam could respond to that with something that would sound less than trite. Silence reigned at the table for a time before Fanny began to share the final chapter to her saga. Up until that day Hanna and Sam only knew that Edmund had done her a great injustice many years before. During their years of service they both noticed that as her wedding anniversary approached she would become easily agitated and restless. They found out why that morning as the sun began to rise and light up Fanny's face with a fierce red-orange glow. She looked otherworldly and vengeful as she continued with her story.

Sam and Hanna learned that not long after the banishment of her deceitful aunt that Henry Crawford began to make his intentions towards Fanny more evident. He would find an excuse to visit her while she continued in helping Tom during his recovery. There were days when Henry would only leave for meals. She covered her discomfort with indifference but was polite towards him. Tom noticed and she disclosed to him that she did not trust Henry and believed that he was not honorable. Her cousin told her that he did not doubt her conclusions but that every rake eventually found a woman that matched them and not to completely disregard his attention and offered friendship.

Remembering her similar conversation with Edmund and Tom giving her the same advice she decided that she would try to set aside her misgivings about Henry. She knew that he was still playing some kind of role but whether it would harm or not could only be revealed through time. After a few weeks she grudgingly admitted that he was an interesting man who could discuss a wide variety of topics. His mind was sharp and his tongue sharper. Through all of this though Fanny knew that she would never be able to marry or love Henry. She did not trust him and that would never change.

During this time Edmund and Mary announced their engagement and Fanny's heart already shattered withered to dust. She withdrew further into herself emotionally and only presented the world with a contented face. The final conquest of Mary and Henry's plan was about to be accomplished.

Mary convinced that Edmund that Fanny was in love with Henry but felt too obligated to the family for all they done for her to encourage any kind of public courtship. She also told him that Henry had asked Fanny if not for her family would she consider marrying him and received an affirmation. Believing his beloved's word and that of Henry's convincing profession of love for Fanny, he went to his brother and discussed Fanny's future. Tom was less willing to believe the story but Edmund reminded him that up until a few months ago did not even know that Fanny really existed, as he had only ever given her a cursory glance or greeting. Conceding to Edmund's point of truly knowing her, Tom agreed to sign the papers agreeing to a marriage between Henry Crawford and their eighteen-year-old cousin.

"I found out about my engagement when it was announced to the whole family," said Fanny bitterly. "Shock and numbness were the only things I remembered feeling that night. Edmund's betrayal of our friendship was more than I could bear. He knew! He knew how I felt about Henry and yet ignored it because of that evil creature's influence. I can still see the light of triumph in Mary Crawford's eyes as she looked on from her place beside the man who broke my heart. She had won. She had broken me. The man I loved was to be hers and the man that I all but despised was being forced on me.

You are probably wondering why I agreed to the engagement. As I said before, my first reaction was numbness and I did not have the strength to fight it. After years of practiced capitulation I cloaked myself in the familiarity of it and lost myself completely. I had deceived my family for so many years as to my true nature that habit kept me from revealing myself. The numbness following the announcement slowly went away leaving nothing behind but anger. It was frightening in its intensity yet I allowed it to burn in my heart. During those few days following the announcement of my engagement I changed, completely. Oh, I kept the guise of meekness but underneath I was hard and cold, dead. Revenge became my goal and the only reason why I did not protest my engagement to Henry.

After months of observing Mary and Henry, I knew that their weakness could be found in each other. They cared for each other deeply. Only two people completely dedicated to each other could carry out the things that they did to my family and me. They were a force of deceit that was unbreakable as long as they were both wholly dedicated to the other. In that connection I found my avenue for revenge. It became my mission to turn Henry against Mary by making him fall in love with me and what I represented, innocence. In short, making him turn his back on everything that Mary and he had represented, worldly superiority found in experience and cynicism. I wanted him to turn the passion he had for corrupting others into a desire to cherish and nurture. The irony of my motivation was almost laughable. Through his transformation into a better person I sought to ruin another.

Henry became my means to an end. I knew that it would destroy them both if I made Henry see how empty his life was while he sought to ruin the lives of others. If I could manipulate his way of thinking to reflect all the things that he at one time mocked and ridiculed, then and only then would my retribution be complete. Deep down inside of Henry I knew that there was a man who abhorred the creature that he had become. To make him love me using the façade of innocence and honesty to trap him would be the ultimate revenge.

It was quickly decided that Henry and I would be married in a small ceremony with just family attending. During the two-week interval I continued to tend Tom but spoke very little. I believe that Tom realized then that he had been manipulated but there was nothing he could do. It was a silent agreement between us to not speak of it. Instead we talked of our interests and found that we had more in common than even we had thought. Those shared hours with him, my evening discussions with Julia, and escaping the world's cares as I took flight when riding were my only moments of peace those last two weeks. During that time my plan for the future and the revenge I sought solidified.

My wedding day was a day full of charades. Tom and Julia both tried to be happy for my sake. Henry was jovial but I could see the cracks in the façade he presented that day. Maria and Mr. Rushworth were distant but politely so. Mary was watching over us like a queen. Edmund, I believe was the only one there that truly believed in what was taking place. I almost felt pity for him but it was quickly replaced with my new companion, anger.

Before Henry and I left Mansfield Park for our new home I wrote Tom and Julia a letter telling them both that their friendships meant to me and that I wanted to build on them. I made one demand on them and that was to promise me that they would never write about Edmund or tell him anything about my life. I knew Julia would understand and explain to Tom. Apparently she did because they both complied with my wishes. The letter to Edmund was short; I simply said that I wished for no contact between us. After that day I never spoke or wrote to him again. Even Henry respected and I think understood my need to remain ignorant of Edmund and Mary's shared life due to my numerous rebuffs when the subject was raised.

I went into my marriage with a peace that was created by the quietness in my mind as I prepared myself for the greatest deception of my life. It took two years for my revenge to come to fruition. Henry became, for a time, the man that I believe he always wanted to be and as a result I hope Mary felt some of the pain that I experienced when she took Edmund from me. By the time Henry turned his back on Mary and his life of masks and shadows I found that my victory was meaningless. Only the child that we had created was important from that point on. Only Eric mattered.

So, now you know all of my history with Mansfield Park, the Bertram's, and even some of my husband. The rest of my life you know. My one regret is that I was not able to tell Edmund to his face how I felt about him before and after his betrayal. They were mirror opposites. I loved him and now I hate him for what he has done to me and I hate myself for allowing him the power to turn me into a bitter, angry woman. I do not want to enact revenge against him like I did with Mary and Henry but I want to forget that he is alive and finally be free of him and my past. To do this I know I must forgive him and myself. I do not have the strength of character to do this. Why must I forgive him? Why?"

Talking more to herself than those with her she continued, "GOD! I hate the self-pity that has sustained me and I hate my need for it. I am justified in my anger! Why must I feel so burdened by guilt? I do not want to forgive him. Because if I forgive him then I will have to admit that he is the only man that I have ever or will ever love. I cannot go through that suffering again. Feeling as if the very weight of the earth was pressing down on my lungs when I realized that Edmund could not and would not see me. I hate myself for not telling him, but how could he not distinguish my deep love for him from the shallow and false love that Mary had? How I felt about him was in everything that I did and said. I died inside the day he announced my engagement."

Looking up at her friends she persisted in her task to make them understand how deeply she had been affected by her years at Mansfield and the man who almost destroyed her, "My son saved me. I was dying inside. It was one of the few purely unselfish acts that Henry committed. Even after he turned back to the way of life that he abandoned for a time, in my mind by giving me Eric, Henry earned my forgiveness for what he did to me with regards to Edmund. Henry gave me Eric. When Eric was born I began living again. Living, not just existing from day to day. I saw the sky again in its brilliant blue glory instead of the brittle gray. I had a purpose. Eric gave me my life and my ability to love back to me. He also gave me the desire to start writing again. I wrote [I] The Great Illusion [/I] during those long winter months before Eric's birth. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember you having ink all over your hands and on the sleeves of your dresses," said Hanna trying to lighten the atmosphere with the shared memory.

"Fanny, what are you going to do? What do we need to do to help you?" Sam asked with a concerned and serious look in his eyes. "Lying about you being a widow has given you a perfect disguise. Everyone in the area is respecting your wish to be left alone. I do not think that running again is the answer. Edmund has only written you a letter, not come to call on you; which would have been the proper thing to do."

"He cannot know that I am here!" Fanny broke in vehemently and then continued more quietly, "His wife, Mary, would then tell Henry and I cannot take Eric back into that world. I will not. If I have to run for the rest of my life I will. Henry's lifestyle was never an issue until Eric became older and Henry less careful. Yes, Eric probably did not understand most of the things that were said but I will not risk the innocence of my son just so he can know who his father is. Edmund must not find out that I am here."

The older couple watched as Fanny thoughts took her over. They waited for a moment before they heard her whisper fiercely "Why did he not tell me he would be here."

"Who tell you what?" asked Sam quietly

Fanny visibly jerked and blinking looked at Sam for a moment before recognition returned to her gaze. "What? Oh...nothing...no one." Focusing on the couple in front of her she saw that they were still trying to process everything she had told them during the last hour. "I believe that we will be safe from Edmund visiting because he said in the letter that he did not want to invade my privacy. That is not what worries me. My concern is my son being in the presence of that evil woman, Mary. I do not want her anywhere near Eric. That is why he cannot go over there. Also, I do not want him to know Edmund anymore than he does. After being married to that monster for so long I do not trust him with my son. I fear the changes she may have wrought on him over the years."

Sam understood the younger woman's need to protect her son. Eric meant more to Sam than he ever thought possible. The love he felt for the boy stemmed from than his protective instinct. Sam could remember when Eric had been born and he knew that he would do everything in his power to ensure the happiness and safety of the boy. A better grandfather figure Eric could not have wished for. While Sam listened to Fanny and her need to shield her son from Edmund he realized the Eric would not understand why his mother would not let him visit Northbridge. It was with the boy's happiness and joy that Sam said, "Fanny, I understand your reservations about Eric being around Edmund. Personally, I would really like to beat him senseless." A small smile appeared on Fanny's face as Sam continued, "But Eric loves horses and if you forbid him from going across the lane and visiting the new barn and those horses you will break him. Arthur Webb is a good man and he has respected your wishes so far. Just think on that before you make a final decision about what to do in terms of Eric and who he can and cannot visit."

"Sam, these past few weeks I have grown to trust Mr. Webb. He seems like a good man but more than that I trust you. I will take your advice to heart before I decide what is to be done," conceded Fanny before continuing, "I am certain that we may not be able to stay here for as long as we intended. At the same time, you are right Sam. Everyone in this area is respecting my [I] need [/I] to be left alone. Mr. Laurence has made good on his promise to ensure my privacy during my time of mourning. However, our time here may have to end but that decision does not need to be made right now."

"He is a good man, that Mr. Laurence," said Hanna looking carefully at Fanny.

A soft look came into the younger woman's eyes, "Yes, he is. I would be sad to leave this place. I have not known such peace in years like I have experienced here." Fanny seemed lost in thought for a moment before she continued, "You both have been so good to me. How can I ever..."

"We are not here out of duty Fanny," Hanna broke in quickly. The hard edge in her voice caused both her husband and Fanny to look at her. "When are you going to trust us completely and the love that we both feel for you? I've listened to all that you said here this morning and my heart is breaking for you, but I will not pity you. You have a choice to make right now about Sam and I. Will you believe and trust yourself enough to let us love you and allow yourself to love us in return. The words are only words until you believe them. Stop doubting yourself. What that man did you years ago is terrible but only you are to blame if you let it taint and twist what Sam and I are offering. The true tragedy in this story would be if you had lost your ability to love. You have not but do not push us away by turning what we feel into some kind of obligation on our part because you pay us. That's not why we're here!" Hanna finished brokenly.

Tears were glistening in both women's eyes as Fanny choked out, "Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I love you both but I am out of practice. Thank for your censure, it will be taken to heart."

The three companions sat at the table in silence for several minutes lost in their own thoughts. The sun continued to rise and the shadows from the night were chased away again but always with the promise of returning. Eric came down and the three adults turned their burdened minds and hearts towards brighter things, the boy who brought them so much joy.

After watching Eric eat his breakfast and seeing him follow Sam outside to care for Strawberry, the old carriage horse, and their small flock of chickens, Fanny returned to her study. Her emotions continued to rage inside as she walked over to the window and looked out on what she knew was Edmund's barn. 'Why is he here?' she screamed silently. 'Why is he the owner of a great estate and not a humble clergyman? Had Mary changed him so much?'

Then she saw him. Heart racing like a thousand horses over the parched desert that was her throat; she drank in the sight of him as he rode a large gray horse. Edmund was coming up the lane and all she could see was his profile. His straight nose and strong chin were as she remembered but when he suddenly turned his head into the sun looking towards Ridgeview. She shrank back from the window but her eyes remained locked on his features. She could not see his eyes but what she could make out shocked her. His cheekbones were more defined and sharp, cheeks almost sunken. It was his mouth that was the most different. The lines around it were no longer those created by easy grins and laughter instead replaced by weariness and pain with lips thin and almost brutal looking. Moving from his face she took him all in and saw the straight back with shoulders broader than she remembered. The muscles in his legs were well defined and Fanny knew that he spent hours on horseback.

It hit her then. The realization made her sick and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead and down her spine. After all that had happened, the pain, hatred, bitterness, self-pity, and anger, he still had power over her. In that moment, Fanny came face to face with the deepest and darkest fear of her soul; he could make her love him again regardless of their past. Feeling the weight of defeat begin to settle on her shoulders Fanny's heart screamed in defiance.

Then salvation was revealed. The words of a poem came back into her mind. The last three lines had burned in her memory because in those few sentences her entire relationship with Edmund had been laid to bear. The corners of her mouth lifted humorlessly as she recited the words to his passing figure, "But I being poor have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams." *** She had found the passage while writing her last book which was her most personal work and had put those lines from the poem on the dedication page along with her message of [I] 'To one who did not tread softly and stopped me from dreaming.' [/I]

'My dreams no longer exist. I hate you more now than I ever loved you then.' Even in her mind the declaration sounded weak and petty. She did not care. Turning, she sat down at her desk and began to write her letter to him. The handwriting that Edmund most certainly would have recognized was concealed by her fury as she wrote.

Lost in thought, Edmund rode down the lane towards the new barn. It had been a rough night, full of memories and pain. Escaping had been his only hope in his battle against the past. While saddling Ghost at a little before five in the morning, Edmund realized that he was falling back into the destructive habit that James had pulled him out of a few months before. Did he regret what had happened almost ten year before? With every fiber of his being but there was nothing that he could do about what happened then.

Now riding down the lane towards his new project and dream he understood that not only did he need to forgive himself for what he did but he also needed to be forgiven by the one person that never wanted to speak to him again, Fanny. His silence at first had been justified through his rationalization that Fanny was a married woman and he was married man. A friendship of their nature could have been misunderstood by society. After Mary left him the shame, anger, and then the bitter truth that she had written in her letter kept Edmund from breaking his promise to not contact Fanny. However, he knew now that he would break that promise.

He needed Fanny to know that he continues to regret not believing her counsel concerning Mary and the beast that lay hidden in that woman's heart. He yearned to tell her that he understood now what she was trying telling him when speaking about the moon and shadows of the night. That Mary would always hide in the shadows. What he really needed to tell her was that he was a fool for never understanding her and the love that she offered so willingly time and again. He could not tell her that, though. She was happily married now with a child. 'I wonder if she had a son or daughter,' he thought while approaching the old stone house that faced his new barn and fields. 'Her child would around six or seven now.'

His thoughts turned darker as he remembered Mary's words, mocking him. He could almost hear her laughter, so pure and beautiful, yet full of malicious intent and superiority, as her words from her letter mocked him, [I] "You could have been a father." [/I] His features hardened and suddenly he felt like there were eyes watching him. Turning his head swiftly to look at the old stone house his eyes met the sun as it continued to rise over the distant hills. Looking and drinking in the magnificence of it Edmund felt the anger seep away and a renewal of spirit begin to bloom in the darkness of his heart. He was not healed but he finally understood the way to begin the journey towards becoming as close as he could get to whole again. He had to tell Fanny everything and hope that she would forgive him. 'God,' he prayed, 'please give me the chance to correct this mistake.'

As he rode up to the barn he remembered the days when he and Fanny and sometimes Julia would go riding together. Fanny was not the best rider but she learned and he recalled her saying that she loved riding and horses and hoped someday to have one of her own. He remembered them laughing and talking about her dream and how that would be a wonderful activity even for a clergyman. Then it hit him. "This is her dream too and I did not even realize it," he said softly to Ghost while stroking the horse's strong neck. "Maybe some day she will see it, old friend."

***He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by W.B. Yeats

Chapter Nine

Posted on Friday, 21 October 2005

London…

James’ sharp blue eyes squinted up at the faded and weather beaten sign hanging over the door of possibly the filthiest looking pub he had ever laid eyes on and he had seen more than the average man when he had been the Royal Navy. He despised places like this. They left him feeling dirty. However, he would play the part. The information that James hoped to learn was worth far more than this foray into the world of dank, dark, and dangerous intrigue.

Entering the pub, James quickly swept the room with his eyes. The place was not very crowded but that usually meant that those within the shadows, provided by the poor lighting, had reputations that were best kept there. In his time in the Navy, James learned that there were two different types of pubs and bars. The first catered to the drinkers, carousers, and lonely seamen. The second was better suited to those did not wish to be bothered, recognized, or approached by another other than someone bringing them another drink. Under the guise of a being a bar these types of places were where clandestine and dangerous plans were hatched and launched from. Common criminals and master underground bosses met in such places. People did not just stumble upon establishments like this. They were either looking for or meeting someone when stepping across the threshold.

Dressed like a sailor with clothes that had seen better days and walking like a man who was used to going without shoes, as many did when aboard ship, James shuffled to the far end of the long bar that dominated the wall facing the door. A short fat man ambled over towards James, stopping to lean against one of the buildings support posts and asked, “Wha’s yer poison?”

“What ehva’ your ‘and land’s on firs,” replied James falling into the heavy accent with ease and leaning his hip against the bar.

The man behind the bar looked closely at James for moment, a dangerous glint in them. “Are ya sure ya trus’ me, boy?”

“Call me boy again you’ll find out ‘ow much I trus’ me blade.” In the flash of an eye, knife was quivering on post just above the man’s left ear. James had barely changed position. Only indication that he had even moved was that he was now squared off against the bar.

To his credit, the bartender did not even flinch. Reaching up he threw the knife back where it landed just between James’ hands that rested on the worn wooden surface. “Try tha’ again and you won’t walk out a’ ‘ere breavin’. Now wha’cha’ wan’?

Pulling his knife free James replied “Give me ah bottle o’ yer rum and a glass.” Reaching into the pouch that rested underneath his arm and just above his left elbow, he pulled out a few coins and threw them on the aged wood. A bottle and glass came sliding down the length of the bar. Catching them, James turned and surveyed the dimly lit room again. Spotting a table in the one of the front corners he walked over and sat with his back to the wall. Leaning back he prepared for a long night.

Unlike many men his age and younger, waiting was something that James did very well. Patience was in his nature. His shipmates had often wondered how his luck never ran out when they were playing cards. The ability to wait out anyone and never fold on one of his own bluffs was the answer.

As a captain, James had seen more victories than defeats but it was his insatiable yet calm persistence that earned him the title, “Hound of Hades” given to him by the scoundrel he was currently waiting on to arrive. During one their drunken escapades while in port his companion thought it poetical to call James as such. Initially meant as a joke, however, once the crew of his ship learned of the story behind the label it was decided fitting and therefore stuck. Many an enemy ship had fallen victim to the Hound. Like the mythical creature, Kerberos, James would wear his prey down by fast attacks only to pull away before the enemy could regroup. He stalked his prey and fed on their fear, using it against them until the enemy’s captain would lose control of his crew. He was merciless and without pity, a ruthless defender of his sea. It would be during those times of complete and utter pandemonium that James and his ship would swoop in and capitalize on the confusion. Crews from his ships thought that the spirit of Sir Francis Drake, the Virgin Queen’s Pirate, lived within their commander. Captain James Lawrence had the heart of a true sailor but the soul of a marauding pirate.

As he surveyed the room, slowly nursing the worst rum he had ever tasted, James knew he was getting closer to his goal. After years of waiting he could feel that he was so very near the end of this hunt.

After almost an hour of taking slow sips from his glass and surreptitiously watching the vermin crawling all of over the floor and those coming through the door, at last the man he had been waiting for arrived. James almost did not recognize him as he hobbled in, dragging his left leg. Hunched over with long greasy hair covering his features, James was ready to forget seeing the man when he briefly saw his left hand disappear inside his tattered robes and then like a flash a knife landed almost silently next to James right hand. Quickly covering a grin, James equally as fast swept the knife from its quivering point and hid it underneath his left forearm before taking another sip of his drink. This entire exchange had taken just one dragging stride and due to the placement of James’ table and the path of entry taken by the other man no one in the pub had witnessed anything more than a cripple walking in and a man reaching for his drink.

“What do you want,” growled the bar tender menacingly.

A hoarse voice answered, “Rum.”

Shaking his head the other man replied, “I don’t have no more rum. Besides, I don’t sell to cripples. Cursed they are. Now get out before you bring a curse on me bar.”

“Give him a glass,” James said quietly looking coldly at the man behind the bar. “I’ll pour ‘em one from my bottle. This swill shouldn’t be called rum anyway. It tastes like deck water used for swabbin’. We’ll prob’ly end up dyin’ but I’d rather ‘ave company, cripple or not.”

The bartender glowered at James darkly but did as he was told, remembering their earlier exchange and danger lurking just below the surface of the man’s eyes. Taking the glass from the bar the hunched man made his way over to James’ table. Sitting down with a sigh at James’ left, the cripple poured himself a glass, took a drink, and looked up. A grimace of distaste was the first expression James saw on the man’s face.

“I told you it was swill,” James said sardonically his voice lower so that no one could hear him.

“Aye, ya did but you didn’t say it was shite mixed with deck water,” came the dry response.

“You’re one that insists on coming to these places. I’d rather be meeting in a proper pub,” James countered barely moving his mouth.

A flicker of a smile appeared and vanished on the man’s face while he raised his glass for another sip. “This is St. James’ compared to some of the places we’ve been, so stop complaining. Do you want to hear what I’ve found or not?”

James silently disagreed with the man’s comparison of the pub but nodded and the man began quietly reporting in quick clipped tones, “I have not been able to trace your latest lead beyond the borders of France. This causes me to believe that our objective never left England. The information that you gave me is very old but even time cannot erase all evidence of existence. It is time to bring our search back to our native soil.” Opening his mouth to interrupt James stopped as his companion continued, “You know I’m right. We’ve missed something along the way James and that means going back to the beginning. This is not a retreat.”

James pondered the words of the man whom he trusted with his life and saw the wisdom and validity behind them. “Regroup,” came his soft concession.

“I do have some news but of a different nature. It’s about your sister’s husband. He is dying. I have not seen her for some time but my contacts continue to report his movements and now his deteriorating condition. There’s not much time left.” Noting James’ almost imperceptible tensing of muscles the man continued, “This could be your chance to begin putting that nightmare to rights. Once that is done, we’ll turn our sights back to this mission. A break from it will allow our minds to rest and possibly cause us to see something differently and that could be the key to finding what we’ve been searching for these many years.”

“How long have you known about Jane’s husband?” asked James before draining his glass.

“I sent my note to you the day I found out. That’s why I asked to come. You need to be here to get what affairs you can in order.”

“Thank you, my friend. But why could you have not just written this in the letter? I would have come anyway? Perhaps not so rushed but I would have come.”

A sharp gleam in the eyes and an the small smile warned James that he was not going to like what he was going to hear next, “Because, O’ Hound of Hades, I would have never gotten you come down here in time for the annual end of the Season ball in two days and thus lost a rather substantial bet with my cousin. So you see, it was my only option.”

James’ eyes widened in disbelief as he whispered harshly, “Richard, you bastard.”

Two days later James was still cursing the day he met Richard Fitzwilliam. The last thing he wanted to do was to be looked upon as meat for the ravenous mother’s trying to find husbands for their daughters. Truth be told, he stayed away from London during the Season strictly to avoid the hideous balls and mind numbing soirée’s that took up almost every evening. The mother’s in and around Leighton Park were calm, still waters compared to the raging squalls of those found in Town.

‘Next time, I’ll leave him in the water where I found him,’ thought James exasperatedly. His mind was so preoccupied that he barely registered the arrival of his mail. The soft click of the door following his butler’s retreat brought him back from the memories of his first encounter with Richard. Looking down he began to sort through the letters that had been sent directly to him and those that were sent to Leighton and forwarded to London.

He made quick work of the estate business. Several letters from his tenants were included. James recognized the handwriting on the last two missives. He noticed that the widow living in Ridgeview House had included a letter with her first payment for letting the property. Picking it up he read her words of appreciation over the repairs to the house.

The widow had been in his thoughts much of late. Not a day went by that Mrs. Graham had not been a subject of reflection. She was a mystery to him and he felt the legendary patience settling in. He would come to know her better because he knew she would bring something into his life that he had been missing for many long years, harmony.

The last letter he left unopened. His sister had written. James looked forward to the day when he could openly recognize her as who she was, his beloved sister. ‘I’ll wait until I return from the ball. Even if it is unhappy news there will be something to look forward too that just might make the event more bearable,’ he thought sardonically as he rose to go and begin getting ready.

Hours later at the ball James was still cursing Richard and had now added the man’s parents to the list of villains for spawning such a creature. Torture was the only word to describe what this night meant to him. However, his cool exterior showed none of the inner turmoil as he exchanged pleasantries with all who crossed his path. Only those to who knew him could see the tension radiating beneath the surface.

“Relax, Laurence,” said Richard under his breath while they watched a group of mothers as they rumbled away to discuss the slim chances of any matches being made on last official night of the Season. “You’re going to grind your teeth to nubs. Then again, that might be the ticket to getting all those women to leave you alone. Your charms would be considerably less potent without teeth.”

“We could test that theory out on you, my friend,” came James’ soft reply laced with menace. “I would gladly knock all your teeth out for you.” The two men turned and slowly made their way to the outskirts of the room near the open French doors that led to the garden.

Both men heard a quiet chuckle before a voice behind them spoke, “I’ll help you in that endeavor. You take the right side and I’ll finish with the left. You always did a have punishing left hook, James Laurence.”

Turning James genuinely smiled the first time that evening. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! How are you? From what I understand you’re out of some money due to my presence here this evening.”

“I am well, Laurence. Yes, I have a very conniving and untrustworthy cousin to thank for my lighter pockets. Perhaps we will be able to win some of it back from the scurvy cur before the night has concluded,” replied Darcy with a small grin.

“You might not want to play against me tonight, Darcy. I’m not feeling very merciful. Leave the cards to me. You can demoralize him at the pool table after I’ve defeated him with my superior skill,” joked James loftily.

“Alright, alright,” Richard cut in while his cousin and James chuckled, “I am properly chastised. Although before I let the subject rest, I did play fair. Darcy, you challenged me with your wager and I simply used my brains to ensure that I was the victor. James, you needed to come to Town anyway, I simply got you here sooner than expected.”

“Your logic is as astounding as it is confusing, Richard,” countered Darcy sarcastically.

After hearing the tone of voice Darcy had used, James decided that a debate was sure to follow if he did not say something to direct the conversation towards a more amiable topic. “Tell me, Darcy, are you returning to Pemberley for the rest of year? It would be good to have come over to Leighton. It’s an easy day and half ride. There is even more incentive to come now, Edmund Bertram has some incredible horses that are in training that I’m sure you would find interesting.”

Darcy winced before he replied, “As much as I would like too come I’m afraid I won’t be returning to Pemberley for some time now. A friend has asked me to come with him to look at a property he is interested in purchasing.” At Richard’s questioning look Darcy continued, “You know Charles Bingley, Richard.”

“Oh yes! Fine man, almost too cheerful at times, though,” Richard said laughing.

Neither man had noticed the flash of pain in James’ eyes nor the clenching of his jaw before he said, “I used to have some acquaintances with that same surname, although one married a man named Hurst. They were sisters, Caroline and Louisa.”

Surprise written on his features Darcy exclaimed, “Why, those are Bingley’s sisters! Mrs. Hurst was widowed last winter. Her husband died quite suddenly, heart seizure or something horrible. She has since been staying with her siblings in Bingley’s home. How do you know the sisters, James?”

The news of Hurst’s death rocked James to his core but neither man across from him noticed. “We met many years ago while I was still in the Navy at several of the ball’s and social events that took place in Portsmouth, during my time there. Tell me Darcy, is Caroline still a shallow, fortune-hunting harpy?”

Richard and Darcy were speechless. They had never heard James Lawrence use such language when referring to a lady, no matter how true. Then after a moment the cousins looked at each and burst out laughing. They had both known James for years; one through business, the other through war and it was at times like these that they deeply appreciated the free-flowing bluntness of a true sailor. It had saved both men from several wrong moves in the game of life.

Still chuckling Darcy said, “Indeed she is. Her gift for subtlety is horribly lacking. Tell me, James, were you a victim of her attention?”

“Yes, but not in the same manner. Her sister, Louisa, and I were acquaintances but Caroline made sure that whatever friendship was growing ended indefinitely when she found out that I was a poor ship’s captain in His Majesty’s Navy,” James responded with not a little hint of anger. Both Darcy and Richard noticed the underlying tension in the other man but before either one of them could ask any further questions James continued by inquiring, “How long do you plan on staying with Bingley?”

With a long-suffering sigh Darcy answered, “I have hopes of the place being either in shambles or that he finds the country and its people too confined and unvarying; if that be the case I doubt Bingley will last a month. I will stay with him until he has settled in or leave with him if finds Netherfield,” the last said with distaste, “unbearable.”

“We both live in the country, Darcy. Do you find my home and yours to be as you just described what you hope Bingley will discover?” asked James coolly.

The look that passed over Darcy’s face indicated that he had not realized how those thoughts would sound when voiced aloud. “You must think me a right prideful snob, James. No, what I meant, that I so artfully failed to communicate, was that Bingley is not one whom I believe would enjoy the serenity and proximity of nature or the lack of social events that London offers. Charles Bingley is more suited for the rigors of the city than the peace of the country. That is what I meant by that. I forgot that you are not acquainted with Charles but rather his sisters.”

Feeling the need to rescue his cousin from further embarrassment Richard spoke up, “Yes, I agree with you, Darcy. Bingley is far more suited to the city and wiles she offers. Tell me, who is the latest love of his life?”

Darcy adopted a martyred look and replied, “I just saved him from the clutches of most determined widow only two weeks ago. She had two children and was hoping for more. Poor woman, I hope she finds someone as long as it is not Bingley. He is so trusting of people that I fear he will marry a fortune hunter and be a pauper before the ink has dried on the license. That is another reason I am accompanying him. Someone needs to have a clear head in case he falls “in love” again.”

“Well best of luck to you as you try to save the man from himself. Send me a letter when you are finished your business with Bingley. And what about you Richard?” asked James turning to his other friend, “What will you be doing once the Season is over? You are more than welcome to come for stay at Leighton.”

“I may take you up on that offer but it will have to be after the New Year. My mother has been saying in her letters that she has forgotten my face. Honestly, you’d think she hadn’t seen me in years when I was just there back in the summer,” said Richard

Both Darcy and James looked at one another as they smiled at what Richard was saying. A silent communication of understanding passed between the friends. Their parents had died years before and could not help wistfully wondering what it would be like to experience the exasperation that mother’s could provide. Richard continued on in that strain for a time. The two parentless men took no offense, years of friendship between the three of them made the topic painless yet still desirable by those without.

After a few minutes of idle conversation centered on the antics of the husband-hunting mothers James suddenly turned and asked, “How is your cousin, Anne, doing? Is there some reason why she could not be in attendance this evening?”

A sober expression claimed both Darcy and Richard’s faces before the former answered; “She is in good health at present but chooses to not attend the balls during the Season for some of the same reasons as we ourselves have spoken of. Also, her mother would insist on accompanying her, even with Richard and I as escorts. Anne has no wish to subject strangers to her mother’s freely given opinions.”

“Ah, yes I think I understand…she is what around 20 now?” James wondered.

“21,” came the clipped reply from Richard.

James looked closely at his friend seeing not only concern in his eyes but also anger. Casting a questioning glance at Richard, James received an imperceptible shake of the head. And understood that Richard would speak with him later. “She has probably been labeled as destined to never marry due to 21 being so very old,” James finished sarcastically.

Both gentlemen grinned ruefully at this and William replied, “I prefer her to remain unpolluted by the Ton but their gossip can never be contained. Anne just left last week after a two-month stay here in town. There were some issues with a piece of business regarding her late father and his will.”

James had been watching both men during this explanation and noticed the stillness of Richard. He refused to meet James’ gaze, which confirmed that something was amiss between the cousins. After William had finished James replied, “Has everything been resolved then, Darcy?”

“Unfortunately, no. However, I have hope that it someday will,” replied the man.

Meeting Williams’ gaze and that of his cousin James said, “If you need any assistance, you have but to ask. I am willing and can help you in any capacity.” Holding Richard’s gaze James saw awareness flicker in his eyes and Richard nodded. James knew that his friend would speak with him when he felt ready.

William, not noticing this quick exchange replied, “I thank you, James. At this time, Anne wishes for us to try and bring about the proper resolution. However, she has not forgotten what you have already done for her. You are counted among her friends even if you have never met.”

“Thank you and please relay to her that she is also considered a friend,” James replied.

“She knows,” Richard, offered quickly, “I have written of you, upon her request for news of you, in the letters that we exchange. Anne is quite a correspondent.”

James looked out over the ballroom and the many couples dancing and noticed the slow moving but determined group of mother’s that circled the room, steady as the moon in its orbit around the earth, making their way ever closer to the gentlemen’s position near the French doors. Sensing a need for a lightening of the mood, James looked over at his friends and grinned while saying, “Squall of large proportions off the port bow. I suggest we drop the sheets and out run them.”

Both William and Richard looked to the left and saw the threat. After glancing at each other all three men burst out laughing as they slowly but steadily pulled away from the mass of mothers. Little did they realize that the sight of all three of them smiling and laughing stopped the meddling group in their tracks and also caused several ladies hearts, on the dance floor and around the room, to beat rapidly and their breathing to catch and falter.

Handsome did not do any of them justice in describing their appearance. James was the mysterious one. His true nature he guarded and no one knew why he was so private, even his friends. Living in the wilds of the north almost all year was considered eccentric but his looks provided forgiveness. Dark brown almost black hair and shocking blue eyes, which could be used as weapons in their own right had caused many men and women to shake but for completely different reasons. Having been a captain in His Majesty’s Navy gave him an air of power that few men possessed.

Darcy, with his dark hair and eyes was the more refined of the three gentlemen. He did nothing to hide his distain of others but always did so with the utmost politeness that he offended very few and those that he did were always of little consequence in his mind. More often than not this “politeness” manifested itself in the manner of complete silence. However, Darcy was an observer of human nature and had a very quick and sometimes cruel tongue. Very few were ever direct victims of his verbal eviscerations but rest assured in the company of his closest friends, no fool was ever suffered lightly.

Where James was the night and Darcy was an overcast afternoon, Richard was the brilliance of daytime. His laughing hazel eyes, that changed colors depending on mood, and a head full of sun kissed hair had caused many a woman’s heart to clench with envy and desire. Richard’s openness was seen as a charming nature but truly it was a defense. By becoming the jokester, few women ever saw him as marriage material because who would want to marry one who could not be serious? Being the second son, even if to an earl, helped in ways as well. However, underneath the amiable nature lay a seriousness in nature and temper that could scorch its victims with its intensity. Few ever saw it and those that had never wanted to again.

Whenever the three men were together many women had sighed in defeat and said amongst themselves that if you took pieces from all of them and combined it, there would be the perfect man. The air of mystery and danger with wit and good manners and finally humor and fun, a perfect man indeed. Alas, there was no such thing and the women of the ton knew and understood it. As a result, settling for their name and money was the next best option and in some minds the better one. Pity.

The evening continued with the easy banter flowing back and forth like soft swells on the ocean between the friends. After the conclusion of the ball the three men, having not been in each other’s company decided that a visit to their club, for pool and cards, would be a perfect ending to an otherwise tedious evening. Over the next several hours, Darcy played and defeated Richard in the majority of the games that were played. After watching for a time, James retired to the card room and proceeded to slowly but meticulously take the other players for all they were willing to sacrifice. After several hours of being soundly beaten, the other four players wisely folded for the evening and returned to their respective homes.

The three friends sat around until the wee hours of the morning enjoying their brandy but more the conversation and company. They agreed to meet for brunch, after they returned home and got a few hours sleep. One of the three never made the engagement, upon returning to his townhouse James opened the letter from his sister. An hour later he was riding hard to her with the crumpled note shoved deeply into his coat pocket. There were only two lines written:

I know what you have done!
You should have told me! Judas!!

~J~

A week after Fanny’s sunrise revelation, Sam had finally been able to convince her that allowing Eric to continue his jaunts across lane would be better than her motherly desire to protect her son by never letting him set foot outside Ridgeview House again. Sam and Fanny both knew that her wish to keep Eric locked up in the house was irrational and the older man had said so but with understanding and not a little humor in his eyes. It had been the slight teasing note in Sam’s voice that had brought Fanny to her senses. However, she set conditions on the nature of the visits. The trips to see the horses could continue only if Arthur Webb agreed to warn them when Edmund would be coming to check up on the progress of the barn and horses or send Eric straight home if Edmund arrived without warning. Sam agreed to present the wishes of the protective mother to his friend but asked that she allow Eric to meet the older boy that Webb had mentioned, Colin. Sam told Fanny what little he knew of Colin and that Webb would not have invited Eric to visit Northbridge unless he felt that a friendship between the boys could benefit them both. She agreed to the compromise but was still concerned.

Both Sam and Hanna knew that God’s plan had brought her to this place to do battle for what she thought was lost, herself. Fanny had hidden her true self away for so long that she feared what would be found at the end of her quest. She confessed her fears to Sam the night before as they sat in her study. ‘What will I find, Sam?’ she asked quietly, fearfully. ‘Will I be the creature that you saw a few mornings ago; eaten up with bitterness that will slowly poison all those around me? My anger frightens me. What I am today is not who I really am. But I would rather remain as I am than discover a nightmare.’

He did not respond immediately. His heart was in turmoil over her struggle. Words were weapons and he knew that one wrong utterance could shatter her. ‘Oh Lord, give me the right words to say. Only you can heal her,’ his heart cried. Then he felt a peace settle over him and Sam knew that whatever the future brought, their odd little family would survive and be better for it. ‘Fanny, love, your concern over what you don’t want to find ensures that you won’t,’ he replied.

At her puzzled expression he explained, ‘You have already gone to the darkest corners of your mind and heart when you sought revenge against Mary and Henry. That is what you should fear, the part of yourself that is vindictive and malicious. But you have overcome that part of yourself through your son. However, the anger that you are feeling now towards Edmund is justified. He wronged you, even if it wasn’t his intention. Men are strange beings. We will believe in something wrong in order to avoid the glaring truth or admitting that we are mistaken. The issue here is you gaining closure with your past.”

Sam let her absorb that for a moment before continuing, “Fanny, you will have to face Edmund someday. Don’t hide behind the paper, ink, and quills. Now that I know what occurred those many years ago, your books have taken on a much deeper meaning. It’s almost like you are demanding his attention. Wanting him to see you through the words. You would not have written in such a way if you had not hoped and known, deep in your heart, that you would see him again and tell him everything that you have not been able too these nine years. Do not fear what you are feeling. Believe in the part of yourself that loves Eric, Hanna, and me. Know that no matter what you find at the end of your road, the place where your love for us resides can grow and heal the darkness that you will find. Fear what you will discover and see the evil that you are capable of but know that your love is stronger. Then and only then will the fears that haunt you be truly destroyed.’

He left her not long after that. The silence following his insight was not cold but he knew that Fanny would say no more. Sam recognized her need to be alone to mull over all that he had said. He doubted that she had ever realized how provocative and brutal her writing really was in regards to Edmund. The dark cynicism that permeated all of her books was really an invitation to the catalyst of all her woes to face the creature she had become and answer for his part in the creation.

The next morning, Sam waited until he saw that Webb had arrived at the construction site. Making his way across the lane Sam found his mind turning once again to the amazing and painful past of Fanny. That any one person could go through all the agony of spirit and not be broken was a miracle. ‘But she had been broken,’ thought Sam. She never said as much but she had shattered and only the love for and from her son had pulled her back together. ‘She is healing but it will take time,’ he thought as he approached his friend.

Knowing that what he was about to ask his would be difficult to agree to Sam decided that a more indirect approach would be best and not the frank conversation they had fallen into so easily as their friendship was established and now continuing to grow. “Arthur,” Sam called, “how is your project coming?”

Turning around Webb raised his hand in greeting while replying, “We’re about ready to move all the horses and supplies over. I can hardly believe it, mid-October and its almost finished. I was sure that I was going to be here in the dead of winter waiting for it to be completed.”

“The men have done a fine job,” Sam said while looking at the structure. The barn was not large by most manor standards but it was made with horses in mind. The rafters’ rose high over their heads as they walked nearer, creating a natural updraft that brought a breeze through the building if the alley and outside stall doors were open. The stalls were lined up on one side while the tack and feed rooms were at one end. A series of rooms had been built taking up the remaining length of the barn. Northbridge’s master carpenter and Webb had designed these when Ridgeview House was no longer available for Edmund to buy from James. The rooms were large and comfortable. There was a small kitchen and sitting area that had been furnished with things from around the Northbridge that were unused. The bedroom was in the corner of the building, large and well lit by two windows. The apartment would become a sanctuary for many. A place to gather and talk about horses, gossip about the neighbors, and enjoy living in an almost elemental way.

The heady smell of wood brought with it a peace, as the two men entered the barn discussing its finer points. “I have not seen Eric or you the past several days, Sam,” Webb said before asking, “Is the young lad ill?”

“No,” paused Sam thoughtfully before continuing, “no, Eric is in good health. Mrs. Graham received a letter a week ago that upset her greatly. As a result, she wanted Eric close to her.”

“Was the letter so upsetting, then?” asked Webb incredulously. The idea that a woman could react so violently to a letter was shocking.

“For her, yes it was. It was a letter from a person she had long thought was out of her life forever. To have the individual return so unexpectedly, literally shook her to her core. Mrs. Graham is a strong woman but no one likes to be reminded of the past when they have spent years running from it.”

“No one can run forever,” came Webb’s prophetic reply.

“She knows this and will face her past here,” responded Sam. He paused and Webb, knowing there would be more was silent. “You know I believe she will be like that myth of the phoenix that was in Frederick Mason’s last novel. You know the one that the mother read to her children,” Sam said at last.

Arthur Webb was a studier, not only of horses, but of people as well. Glancing over at Sam, he knew that something else was on Sam’s mind but it was too delicate to breach with their usual candor and blunt way of speaking. Arthur waited patiently knowing that his friend would come to the point of his visit when he was ready. Deciding to allow the conversation to flow where Sam willed Arthur replied, “I remember that but vaguely. Perhaps Edmund would lend it to me again. With all time I’ve spent working out here I’m surprised I remember when to eat. Colin has been making sure that I don’t miss a meal.” Shaking his head Webb continued dryly, “Penelope Criss, the head cook, has not been happy with me. She takes it personally when someone is absent from a meal. Thinks it is a reflection on her cooking.”

Sam grinned ruefully, “Well, speaking from experience, most cooks take offense when you don’t eat what they have prepared. It is something that is ingrained in them. Hanna still gets insulted if I don’t at least try to like something that she knows I will hate.”

“Don’t expect pity from me. Why do you think I never married? So I wouldn’t have to worry about insulting a woman with just my breathing,” Webb countered quickly.

Sam laughed and nodded; “Aye, but I wouldn’t trade a day with my Hanna for anything.”

Webb was silent while he contemplated the soft tone with which Sam spoke of his wife. He had never regretted his decision to not marry but since he had met his new friend he had thought more on the things that he would never experience. At that moment, Webb remembered a line from one Frederic Mason’s books that had such truth it had all but taken his breathe away when he had first read it,

Love is among the most powerful weapon that humans wield. We can give and accept at will but the ability to deny that another’s love exist for you solely because you draw breath is the greatest of all weapons. So deny carefully, my Love.

“What are you thinking of, Arthur?” Sam asked, bringing Webb out of his revere.

“Nothing of consequence, just something I read not long ago,” he replied before changing the subject. “Back to the original matter, will Eric be able to come over and call?”

“That is what I came to speak to you about. Mrs. Graham will let Eric visit. She has agreed to let him meet Colin, which I believe will be good for both of them. Regardless of the age difference, I think that they both have something to offer each other that would be of benefit,” Sam paused a moment, trying to find the words to impart the next bit of news as gently as possible. Taking a deep breath he continued, “However, she does not want him to have any contact with Mr. Bertram.”

Webb stopped dead and turned to look at his friend. Looking closely at Sam he saw that the statement had been difficult for him to say. Not understanding the ridiculous request, Webb waited. Hoping to gain some insight as to why this woman would make something of this nature conditional and therefore risking her son’s ability to gain joy and fulfillment from it, he was silent.

Sam knew that Webb would not take the news well but he was thankful for his friend’s silence. “I know you don’t understand why she is making these conditions but I will tell you that her motivation for asking is, in her mind, well founded.” Sam paused and turned. Looking out from the barn he saw Ridgeview House. The stones so battered and worn, yet standing and protecting a woman as equally abused internally.

“Arthur, I would not ask you to betray your loyalty to Mr. Bertram but hear me when I say that by doing this you will help to bring about the healing of the two people that we serve.” Seeing the question in Webb’s eyes Sam continued before he could ask, “Do not ask me what I mean, my friend. It is not my story to tell. But I promise you, it will all be made known in time.”

The two men were silent for some time as they were both lost in thought. Even though they had only known each other a short time, Webb knew that Sam was not making the request lightly. Loyalty was chief among the horse master’s list of virtues. He would never betray a friend and he counted both the man beside him and Edmund as such. Not many people could claim to have gained as much from Arthur Webb. The list of people that he considered friends was short and therefore treasured. Having one ask to keep something from another that could be putting the other at risk of harm was disturbing. However, trust was equally important as loyalty. Did he trust Sam enough to believe that Edmund would benefit from the strange request by the tenet of Ridgeview House.

Finally Webb replied, “I will do as you ask but I will not be the one to tell Edmund that he is not allowed to see Eric. Mrs. Graham will have to be the one to do so,” pausing to look pensively at Sam he entreated, “Promise me that good will come of this. I do not want to lose two friends.”

Sam reached out a laid a hand on his friends shoulder, squeezing it while saying in a serious and fervent tone, “Only good can come of this, my friend, I promise you.”

Webb nodded in thanks. It was then that the thundering of a horse’s hooves drew their attention. Dropping his hand from Webb’s shoulder, Sam shielded his eyes from the sun and looked for the rider. All that could be seen were flashes of the rider passing through the trees that bordered the lane.

“Only express post riders travel that fast,” said Webb thoughtfully. Both men watched as the rider galloped into clear view he turned sharply into the drive leading up to Ridgeview. Dismounting the man strode to the door and forcibly knocked the noise carrying around the field to reach the men’s ears.

“I had better go and see what all of this is about,” Sam said quickly.

“If there is anything that I can do,” Webb replied.

“Thank you, my friend,” Sam said and he was gone.