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Posted on Tuesday, 16 February 1999

Part 1

"Is there a felicity in the world," said Marianne, "superior to this? Margaret we will walk here at least two hours."

However minutes later when Marianne found herself suddenly on the ground after a false step she began to dismiss her previous statement.

"Marianne!" asked Margaret running to her side, "What happened? Are you able to walk?"

"No Margaret, I do not think so," Marianne said attempting to stand up, "It was my own fault for being so reckless in such detestable weather."

A gentleman was passing up the hill and within a few minutes of Marianne when her accident happened. He ran to her assistance and was revealed to be Colonel Brandon.

"Oh Colonel!" Marianne breathed, "I was never so happy to see you. I am terribly afraid a false step brought me to the ground."

"Miss Marianne," he greeted, "And what would have you running down hills in such terrible weather. You should not even be out! Have you no sense?"

"It was not raining when my sister and I set out," she said petulantly, indignant at his criticism.

He apologised, "Forgive me. I shout at you and you are clearly in pain. Can you stand?" She tried again but with no success. Her face clearly portrayed her own pain.

"Will you allow me to ascertain for any breaks?" he asked. She nodded, still trembling from the shock of her fall.

He removed her shoe and gently checked her ankle.

"No, luckily it is not broken, but it shall be sore for few days and you will probably need to keep it up. Enough to keep you from running wild in the country," he teased.

She noticed he looked much younger when he smiled. Still he was thirty-five – it was too ridiculous even to contemplate! However she could not resist from replying to such censure.

"Colonel, there is nothing as beautiful as nature! I suppose I should have been ladylike and wandered through the Glasshouses at Barton Park, looking at artificial flowers in an artificial setting?"

"Indeed, if you did that, you would not be Miss Marianne. But come, you and Miss Margaret shall be drenched. Will you accept my services in bringing you home, or do you want to be left here, closer to your beloved genuine nature?" he teased again.

"No, I would indebted for your help. One can never have too much nature, but one can get too close to it."

"As you say. Miss Margaret run on, and tell your mother what happened." Margaret did as she was bid and ran all the way home.

"Now can you put your arms about my neck?" he asked. She did so and he took her up in his arms.

"Allow me to escort you home." Marianne was breathless. It was one of the most romantic things that had ever happened to her.

"Thank you," she said meekly.

"I would not like anything more to happen to you," he said and they continued down the hill. When they reached Barton Cottage, Marianne was in much better spirits though her injury pained her.

Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood had been waiting anxiously since Margaret's arrival, but still not had been prepared for the sight of Marianne in the Colonel's arms. He apologised for his intrusion, relating its cause. Then he seated her in a chair in the parlour. Mrs. Dashwood was excessive in her gratitude and thanked him again and again, and with a sweetness of address which always attended her, invited him to be seated. But this he declined, as he was dirty and wet.

"I can never thank you enough, Colonel," she said as he prepared to leave, "We are truly indebted to you."

"No indeed madam, had it not been me, someone else would have rescued Miss Marianne."

"Though I do doubt they would have been as critical," Marianne replied, "Why Mama, he gave out to me for running down the hill!"

"Marianne, you were running? In this weather? You are lucky it was simply your ankle you nearly broke, and not your neck!" Her mother cried, scolding her daughter.

"Will you come to tea tomorrow, Colonel?" Elinor asked after Marianne looked at her with meaning.

"Yes, do come," Margaret enthused, "I want to hear all about your journeys in the South Indies!"

"No-no I could not impose," he began to protest.

"My dear Colonel it is the very least we could do…." Mrs. Dashwood reasoned.

"Very well then. Until tomorrow." He said his good-byes and left.

When he had gone, Elinor was warm in her praise of him.

"He was very kind Marianne, you should have thanked him."

"He knows I am grateful to him."

"He was very gentlemanly," Elinor said. Margaret laughed mischievously.

"What is the matter with you?" Marianne asked suspiciously, wondering why her younger sister would smile at such a statement. She did not see any humour in it, for it was true.

"Oh Elinor, you should have seen Marianne's face when he told her she had no sense. She looked so childish. You and mama chide me for pouting, and she was positively sulking!"

"Is this true?" asked Elinor, looking at her sister with interest.

"Well he insulted me! He said I had no sense, and then he teased me about my love of nature, and he said that I run wild!"

"He did not!" Margaret objected, eager to protect the Colonel, "He said the injury would prevent you from running wild, so there!"

"I do not wonder at him reprimanding you," Mrs. Dashwood saying, "Losing all sense of propriety and running down hills! It is something I would expect Margaret to do!"

"I am injured! I have paid for my folly! Do you think I shall be running down hills in rainy weather again?" Marianne asked laughing.

"Margaret, run and ask Betsy for a cold compress and a cup of hot tea for Marianne," Elinor said as she and her mother helped Marianne upstairs so as she could change out of her wet clothes. "You cannot think the Colonel so old and infirm now, Marianne."

Part 2

Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval of fair weather the next day allowed him to get out of doors; and Marianne's accident being related to him, he was obliged to listen to Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor's praise of his friend.

"I told you he was a worthy man. Won't Mrs. Jennings be delighted to hear of this development? She always said that there would be a match between Miss Marianne and the Colonel."

"Marianne! Marianne! The Colonel is coming!" cried Margaret rushing into the house.

"Aha! The very man himself!" said Sir John; "He is not able to keep away."

"The Colonel has been invited to tea," Marianne said stiffly, wishing Sir John and his speculations were back at Barton Park.

"Will you stay, Sir John?" Elinor invited warmly.

"No, I must away home and tell Mrs. Jennings about this. Won't she be surprised to hear about this adventure."

The Colonel was shown into the parlour, as Sir John was leaving.

"John, how do you do?"

"Christopher, never mind how I do, you do well. I will not stay, I see you have business with the Dashwoods," he said with a wink.

Just before he left, he turned and said, "Oh Brandon, before I forget, Willoughby is back in the country." Then he closed the door.

Colonel Brandon handed Marianne some flowers.

"Oh Colonel, they are quite beautiful. How did you know to bring me these?" Marianne said wonderingly, smelling the wild flowers he had brought.

"I thought you would prefer them to artificial glasshouse flowers."

"Indeed these are genuine nature," Marianne said looking at him as they shared at smile.

Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor exchanged knowing looks. Throughout tea they studied Marianne and her behaviour towards the Colonel. At times it was friendly, at other times slightly indifferent, though on the whole it was amiable and open. It was evident she liked him, but whether she would form an attachment with him was unclear.

However after Marianne and the Colonel were talking together for a while they both discovered each other's intense love of music and poetry. Now Marianne was perfectly disposed to like him. She felt he had good taste, breeding, and though he was reserved, he was not uncivil or reclusive. They also shared the same passion for Shakespeare and Mozart. When she confessed her love of dancing, he did not join her, though he began to think it would not be such a bad thing to dance with Miss Marianne.

"Why Colonel, there is nothing in the world I rather, than a good dance to lively music with an agreeable partner," she professed after hearing him say he did not dance much.

"But what if you were engaged with an disagreeable partner and were forced to dance to dull music?"

"I would never dance with any man lest I was sure he was agreeable, witty and charming. And as for dull music? At this moment in time I cannot think of one possible dull dance tune!"

"So you prefer dancing to music than playing it?"

"Not really; I confess I like both equally."

"That is a relief to hear," he said.

"But you do not like dancing?" she asked.

"I rarely attend balls or dances. My estate keeps me too busy for much society I am afraid."

"I hope you shall never be too busy for our society, Colonel," she said sensibly, "I would be truly sorry if that were to happen. I meant to thank you yesterday, I was indebted to you for bringing me home, and for rescuing me."

The colonel did not trust himself to speak; he simply smiled and nodded.

When he left Marianne accompanied him to the door with her Mother and Elinor.

"You will come again?" Mrs. Dashwood asked sweetly.

"I would be delighted to."

"Good," said Marianne, "Please come again soon."

"I will try," he replied.

"Good-bye Colonel, thank you so much for coming," Elinor said.

"Good-bye Mrs. Dashwood, Miss Dashwood, Miss Marianne, until we meet again."

Part 3

A Few Weeks Later

Barton Park

18---
My dear Mrs. Dashwood,

As you can see my daughter has sent out her invitations for Thursday. The whole purpose of this is to introduce you and your daughters to Mr. John Willoughby of Allenham. I know that Miss Marianne would not be interested in him as she and the dear colonel are so close, but he may very well do for Miss Dashwood, as a replacement for this elusive Mr. F she pines for. He is very handsome and very agreeable and shall be quite rich, so I advise her to forget whoever this man was at Devonshire and become introduced to Mr. Willoughby.

Yours affectionately

Mrs. Jennings

P.S.; Oh bless us and save us! I almost forgot! My dear Charlotte is arriving with her husband and they bring with them two relations of mine; Lucy and Anne Steele – if Mr. Willoughby does not make Elinor forget Mr. F – then my two nieces will be perfect companions for her, and do not neglect to tell Marianne I shall make sure the colonel is seated beside her for dinner! I am sure she will appreciate it.

Part 4

Over the past few weeks Marianne had come to realise that she was falling in love with the Colonel. At first she denied it, reasoning mercilessly with herself; he was too old, she too young; he was too sensible, she too flighty; he was rich, and she was poor, and besides that he did not in any way match her childish ideal of a tall Shakespearean Romeo. Yet she found herself smiling at things he had said on his last visit, reading all the books he had so kindly let her borrow, touching the flowers he brought each time he visited and warming every time Elinor, her mother or Margaret mentioned him. It was most vexing. Each time she went for a solitary walk, she found her unconsciously making her way back to that fateful spot on the hill where new feelings had awakened in her, regarding the colonel. Each time she sat down to practice, she played pretty little love songs or passionate sonatas, instead of great and tragic melodies. Only on Wednesday, the day before the Middleton's dinner party, did she realise quite fully how much she did indeed care for him. Sir John had called to ensure that the family would attend the following evening.

"Mrs. Jennings is beside herself with joy that her daughter is coming," he remarked, after Elinor had entreated him to sit down, "Charlotte is a very amiable jolly sort of woman, and do you know there was once talk of a match between her and Christopher?"

"But he's Marianne's," protested Margaret, quite unresponsive to the look of horror on both her sisters' face.

"Indeed Margaret, the colonel has no possessor," her mother replied though sounding unconvinced.

"Not that anything ever came of it," Sir John continued, "Though once or twice he did look as though he was seriously contemplating marriage. The rigmarole lasted four months, before she eventually Mr. Palmer."

"Wasn't that fortunate for you Marianne!" Margaret said this time knowing well the effect on her sister.

"You are silly Margaret," Marianne said brightly, though privately she was fuming. The colonel and this Charlotte woman had actually had a relationship. Why, just the other day, when they had been discussing the party, she brought up Mrs. Palmer's name and he had simply said, "Yes, Mrs. Jennings daughter." She was so annoyed that she did not hear Sir John bade them farewell until Elinor said, "Sir John is leaving, Marianne."

"Good-bye sir John," she said smiling blithely, "I am looking forward to your wife's party, and meeting all your relations. Tell Mrs. Jennings and Lady Middleton, I cannot fathom a pleasanter way to spend an evening."

She spoke sarcastically of course, but only Elinor recognised the hint of irony in her description. When Sir John left, she got up and handed Marianne her shawl and bonnet and told her mother they were going for a walk. Marianne was confused but complied and only after they were within half a mile's distance of the cottage inquired after the purpose of their walk. The answer she received was metaphorical.

"Walking is an effective way of clearing one's mind."

Marianne thought about this but still could decipher nothing. She was still too angry over Christopher's betrayal.

"You are angry with the Colonel for not mentioning his relationship with Mrs. Palmer to you," Elinor remarked looking at Marianne's face.

Her sister shook her head, but finally cried out, "Why did he not mention her to me? Does he expect to spend the evening talking to his former fiancée? He probably did this deliberately so that I would be made look a fool! How could he?"

"Marianne!" asked Elinor, "What cause have you to suspect him of such crimes? You take Sir Johns and Mrs. Jennings word over his?"

"His silence is proof enough!" Marianne replied furiously.

"But why are you so upset? What claim have you on him?"

"I have every right in the world to be angry. For one month he has called, nearly three times a week, and has talked with me about every subject, including our neighbours, and not once has he mentioned Charlotte!"

"Does that not indicate that it was merely supposition on Sir Johns part?" Elinor asked quietly, trying to remain objective, knowing full well nothing was in this rumour.

"No!…Yes!…Oh I don't know!" Marianne cried, frustrated with herself, Sir John and the colonel. They sat down on one of the shady low branches of a tree nearby.

"Marianne, what I cannot understand is why you are so distraught over this. It's silly, perfectly silly," remarked her sister, observing her face, "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Marianne asked rudely, then mellowing, "I am sorry Elinor, but his betrayal has hurt me."

"His betrayal?" Elinor repeated, "Why Marianne for all we know there could be nothing in this! In fact the probable chances are that the Colonel and Mrs. Palmer are only friends, merely acquaintances."

"No, the probable chances are they were madly in love, and Mr. Palmer was her mother's suggestion, and probably a richer suitor."

"And what if this wild supposition were true? What business is it of yours? After all you and the colonel are merely friends, as you keep insisting." It was a subtle ploy, but it worked. Marianne opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it again.

"Unless you will finally admit that you have come to care for the colonel?" Elinor asked gently.

Marianne was silent and her face unreadable. Then she said, "It would be too absurd. He is old enough to be my father."

"Actually, no," Elinor said counting mentally in her head, "You are seventeen, he is thirty-five, and unless gentlemen get married at eighteen…?"

"But still," she protested, "It wouldn't be right!"

"Why not? Why won't you allow yourself love him?" Elinor asked her clasping her hands, "He is in love with you, and you clearly care for him. The Colonel is an excellent man of noble and amiable character. He has no family to object to your financial state, and he is here, in Devonshire, not in London…not a distance too great for him to forget about you."

This poignant reproof affected Marianne and she admitted, "I do love him, Elinor. But I am so terribly afraid of being inadequate or of him finding me silly and childish."

Elinor begged, with tears shining in her eyes, "Then embrace this opportunity to find true happiness. You may only get this chance once, and if you let it slip through your fingers, you may never have it again. Take a chance, Marianne, as I should have…"

They sat there in silence, both wondering what to say until Elinor finally said, "Come, we should go home, before mama becomes worried." The two stood up, and before they left, Marianne placed her hand on Elinor's arm.

"You are good and wise and far more worthy of happiness than I am. Thank you Elinor." Elinor just patted her hand.

When the Colonel arrived that evening, Elinor strategically left them alone by asking her mama and Margaret their opinion on whether the drawing room needed papering. The couple left alone in the parlour smiled blushing at the awkwardness of the situation. Marianne looked into Colonel Brandon's eyes and felt the reassurance she needed. She smiled and put one hand over his, "I am so glad you came."

The Colonel scarcely dared hope, scarcely dared believe Marianne was beginning to care for him. He took her hand and replied, "It is never any inconvenience to come and visit you."

"I wanted to thank you properly for rescuing me that day. I should have done so before this—"

"Your friendship was thanks enough," he replied. She blushed and smiled shyly. That decided him. Throwing caution to the wind, he resolved that before he left the cottage that day he could find out her true feelings for him. If she didn't feel any affection, that would be that, and if she did…he could not venture to dream.

"Miss Marianne," he began nervously, "Since that day, I have come to feel a…a warm regard for you. You are unlike any woman I have ever met. You enchant me and I've fallen in love with you. I know you could never consider marrying someone so old and reserved as me, but I dare to hope. Is there any chance you could return these feelings?"

Marianne sat there dazed. So long she had dreamed and hoped for this moment, and now… now she could not speak.

Then she found her voice, "I do return those feelings, most ardently, and I do love you. You are not so unworthy as you think. But I am so lively and flighty…so unguarded. Do you think it is a prudent choice?"

He shook his head, "No, I think you are the most spirited and passionate person I have ever met. If you love me and I love you, then it is the most prudent choice to be made. I still cannot believe you can love some on as old and infirm as me."

Marianne blushed remembering earlier cruel remarks, but anxious to make sure he knew of her true feelings, she put her arms on his shoulders, looked into his eyes and said, "I love you. You are intelligent and handsome and civil and good humoured and everything I'd ever want in a husband."

He leaned over and kissed her gently. Every remaining thought of Marianne's Shakespearean ideal vanished and she knew in her heart that she had found her true kindred spirit. A wonderfully romantic, charming and handsome kindred spirit.

Mrs. Dashwood was applied to, and joyously gave her consent, and after doing so wrote a note to Mrs. Jennings to inform her of the good news. Margaret was ecstatic and the four of them were animatedly discussing plans for the future. Only Elinor was silent, but after assuring them of her good wishes, had to leave the room where she leaned against the wall and cried softly, repeating, "I'm so glad, I'm so very glad."

It was thus Edward found her, having opened the door and walked into the cottage. He had sent a letter to Mrs. Dashwood two weeks ago informing her of his plan to come and visit, and she replied warmly. The good lady however had kept it to herself thinking it a nice surprise for Elinor.

"Elinor," he asked concerned, "Is something the matter?" He rushed to her side, and she felt faint with the shock. It was as though all her dreams had come true. First Marianne and the colonel, now Edward and if Fanny and John were to arrive apologising to her mother for their treatment, all her wishes would be fulfilled.

"Edward," she whispered. He put his arm around her waist because he feared for her safety. She looked very thin and pale, and all his feelings for her came flooding back in an instant. She was so beautiful, and intelligent, and charming, and wonderful. If only Lucy didn't exist, then things could be so different…

She led the way to the parlour and informed him of the happy news. Then she opened the door and said, "Mr. Ferrars has arrived."

The shock on everyone's face was comical. Margaret rushed over to him and hugged him, "Edward. This is wonderful! We didn't know you were coming. Why didn't you write?"

"I did write," he said confused, looking at Mrs. Dashwood. She nodded and replied, "Oh yes, silly me, I must have neglected to mention it." She sounded totally unconvincing, but everyone was so delighted to see him, they didn't really mind, especially Elinor.

Part 5

Mrs. Jennings was positively hysterical with joy when she heard the news that not only were Marianne and Col. Brandon engaged, but Miss Dashwoods mysterious beau Mr. F had turned up. She made sure to include him in the invitation for the party and looked forward to seeing him. The next evening, the family except Margaret and including Edward and the colonel arrived at the Lodge. Sir John welcomed them into the sitting room where five new people sat; three women and two men. He introduced them, "My dear friends, this is Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, Mr. Willoughby, Miss Lucy Steele and Miss and Steele."

Edward looked confused seeing Lucy and Lucy the same, but thankfully she did not make a scene. As the party sat down to dinner, she saw that he was placed beside the eldest Miss Dashwood, a fact she did not like. Elinor was too pretty and nice, in her opinion, and Edward had praised her in one of his letters;

"The Dashwood sisters are very pretty, in particular Miss Marianne, but her sister Miss Elinor less imposing and more natural to me, anyhow. She is very intelligent and charming, and has a gift of listening and enjoying people rather than imposing and annoying them.

Throughout the meal she observed them. Flinching each time Elinor laughed at something he said and vice versa. They seemed to have a great deal in common, and Lucy could not remember ever seeing him that animated. Poor Edward, she thought, What a pity I am just marrying you for your money and because of some childish regard. Enjoy the freedom while it lasts, because I plan to make our relationship public, as soon as I endear myself to your mother.

Someone else was watching Elinor, a warm smiling pair of brown eyes, which noticed her blonde curling hair, her beautiful open features and her faultless complexion. Mr. Willoughby also noted that the Colonel's fiancée was also pretty, but attached regrettably. This meant it was either Miss Dashwood or Miss Steele. For some absurd reason they both appeared attached to Mr. Ferrars, a good humoured gentleman with a nervous expression each time he glanced in Miss Steele's direction. Miss Steele's sister Anne had told Willoughby that they were acquainted with the gentleman and her tone suggested there was something more to the relationship between Mr. Ferrars and Lucy than one was led to believe. The evening could prove interesting after all…

After dinner was over, Lucy decided to take action, "Miss Dashwood do come sit beside me. I have heard so much about you." Thus began their conversation and by the end of Lucy's story, she looked at Edward with such a hurt expression that he was left in no doubt of her information. Lucy, he failed to notice, was looking rather like a satisfied Cheshire cat.

Elinor felt sick. All this time, he had been deceiving her. She was horrified and all her aspirations vanished. He had been…he was engaged these past four years to Lucy Steele.

Posted on Wednesday, 10 March 1999

Elinor glanced over at Edward, where he stood conversing with Colonel Brandon, Mr. Willoughby and Mr. Palmer. Sir John and Lady Middleton were organising a game of whist with her mother and Mrs. Jennings. Marianne was chatting pleasantly to Mrs. Palmer and Anne Steele and every so often she would look up and smile at the colonel who would nod and smile in return. Mrs. Palmer giggled with delight each time they did this and whispered conspiratorially to Anne, "They did it again, have you ever witnessed anything so romantic?"

Edward looked so handsome and good-humoured when he smiled and Elinor could not help but be touched by the kind way he spoke to everyone. Her heart yearned for him to return her glance with an ardent glance similar to that of the Colonel to Marianne, but it was foolish and insensitive. While he was engaged to Lucy, he could never love her.

Lucy also noted the pained looks with some degree of satisfaction. She knew by detailing the poignant saga of her engagement, Miss Dashwood would, (if not willingly then bound by propriety) abandon and relinquish all her feelings for Edward. This gave her joy but something occurred to mar her triumph. Lucy had long since decided that Mr. Willoughby was the most handsome man in the room, and had half encouraged the intentional glances he had sent her during dinner, but now all his attention seemed to be focused on her companion – Miss Dashwood. What allure did this woman have that she was able to attract all the young men? She was pretty in a classical sort of way, as well read and intelligent as Lucy herself wished to be and apparently could knit, embroider and cover screens beautifully. But what was this when compared to Lucy's own many talents? Why Lucy herself was handsome, lively, an excellent conversationalist and had an arch and astute personality. And she was so modest too. This she thought without guile.

When Edward looked across the room, he knew with a sinking heart that Elinor had been informed of his engagement. He felt wretched and abominable, like a murderer or an adulterer, which in a sense was what he was. Looking at the two women, sitting side by side, he realised there was absolutely no comparison. Lucy, in fairness, was a mild tempered, pretty young woman with a small amount of charm and wit whereas Elinor was beautiful, amiable, modest, sensible, sensitive, pleasant, gentle, shy, wonderful…. and he realised then he was completely in love with her. She was everything he could hope for in friend, in a companion and in a wife.

Mr. Willoughby had looked among the three and had calculated what had transpired. This he decided was time to act. He stood behind Edward and whispered, "She is a beauty, is she not?" Edward coloured and turned to face him. "Wh-who do you mean?"

"Why, Elinor of course." Edward's eyes narrowed at Willoughby's easy use of her Christian name, but remained composed.

"Yes, Miss Dashwood is rather pretty, as is her sister Marianne," Edward replied trying to change the subject. Willoughby ignored his attempt and asked, "You know of no existing attachments?"

Yes, with me! Edward screamed inwardly, but outwardly answered tranquilly, "No."

"It is a shame that she has so low a dowry, but I suppose she has many other compensations."

This was insufferable. Edward could stomach it no longer, and said vehemently in a low forceful voice, "Consider man, Miss Dashwood is a lady of good breeding and deserves the respect her situation and manners command." Willoughby seized the chance, and said cunningly, "By respect, you would mean admiration, tolerance and honesty." Edward was uncomfortable but agreed.

"I hear you wish to become a clergyman," Willoughby said, "A word of advice; Practice what you preach."

Part 6

Elinor rose before six the next morning hoping to escape to solitude, where no expectations would be raised and she wouldn't feel a heart-wrenching sense of loss when she looked at Edward. She had survived the rest of Lady Middleton's party by staying close to Mrs. Jennings whose constant chatter and speculations only required an occasional nod of the head and an absent yes or no. Lucy and Anne were employed in giggling together and sending sly and suggestive glances to Mr. Ferrars. Only she herself and Mr. Willoughby had appeared to notice it though. Thinking of Mr. Willoughby, she remembered warmly the gentle and almost sympathetic glances he had given her when their eyes met after another outburst of laughter from the Miss Steeles. It was as though he understood and felt her pain, and cheered her up a little. Careful as she was to conceal her feelings from everyone, even Marianne, she could not conceal them from Edward who had, like Elinor, lain awake the whole night thinking about the dreadful mess of relationship. He was engaged to Lucy, he was in love with Elinor, Lucy was in love with him and resentful of Elinor, Elinor was lost to him now and he doubted whether she harboured any remaining warm feelings for him, and it appeared that now Mr. Willoughby was enamoured with Elinor. It was so confusing and infuriating. However when he saw Elinor walk down the lane with her shawl and her hat, he acted on instinct and impulsively got dressed and followed her.

"Mr. Ferrars," Elinor said quietly, after he had caught up with her.

"Miss Dashwood," he replied, "We must talk about Lucy, and about our relationship."

"Our relationship?" she asked surprised, "I was not aware we had one. In fact the only relationship I know of that concerns you is the one you have with Miss Steele. You would do much better to talk with her, and would probably be received far more favourably." With this she turned away from him and prepared to march off, when he caught her arm and begged, "Elinor, hear me out, please."

She sighed and turned; "Very well then, though I do not see how I come into this." He refused to be put off by her cool manner and began, "I trust Lucy informed you of our relationship?"

"Oh yes, I have heard of the impolitic cruelty of your situation and if I could feel any sympathy for either of you then I would be most troubled indeed."

"But you don't know the particulars."

"I do. You met at her uncles, fell in love asked her to marry you, were too cowardly to inform your mother and forced the poor girl to keep it secret. What I fail to see is my involvement in this matter."

"It was nothing like that. Yes, this situation has arose due to my own cowardice and desire to please people, but be assured, if I had the choice my position would be most different."

"Then tell me why now you are engaged?"

"Shall I tell you what my feelings are concerning the whole affair? I see it as a foolish boyish inclination on my side, the consequence of ignorance of the world and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet, had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have out grown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to choose myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me, for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared every thing that was amiable and obliging. I was weak and my vanity was flattered so I proposed."

"So you are not in love with Miss Steele?"

"No. I am in love with you." This admission brought a complete change in Elinor's countenance. She stared, coloured, doubted, wondered, exalted and finally accepted the fact; "You will marry her, though."

"Yes," he said with a downcast expression, "I know I have already treated you badly and what your feelings must be at this moment are right and justified. Therefore if I could but excuse myself in some way, I would try and do what is honourable and right. I have entered foolishly and inexcusably into a relationship, and the least, the very least I can do is honour Lucy's wishes and stand by my promise."

"So you will marry without love, without any real affection for Miss Steele?"

"I will try my best to do right by her."

"But why such a sacrifice? Why risk your entire future happiness? You have a chance of being disinherited, if you pursue this."

"I know. Perhaps it is foolish of me, and proud. If it happens, I should and will offer to release Lucy from our engagement."

"Yes, it is proud, but pride in the very best sense. I understand Edward, and admire you for your resolution. I know you are honourable and good, and that you are doing what is right. "

"Thank you for understanding. If I could but in some way repair the damage I have caused you---"

"Think not of my feelings. You promised nor asked nothing. It was not your fault that such expectations were raised."

"It was my fault. I made it blatantly obvious that I loved you and took delight in your company. It was an reprehensible and insulting act on my behalf while I was still involved with Lucy and led to speculations and false hopes from your family."

"And from me," she whispered.

"Oh Elinor, if things could only have been different. If I were not weak, or so foolish as to propose to Lucy, at this moment we would have been engaged, and so happy."

"Do not wish," she said touching his cheek gently, "It will make both of us reluctant to accept the situation and will make us feel the loss even more."

"If only I had not proposed," he replied hoarsely. Elinor shook her head and silenced him. "Please do not make this harder. You must marry Lucy, and I must go home. Just do not invite me to your wedding for I fear it would be more that I could bear," she laughed sadly. He did not join her but instead said miserably, "I love you."

"And I you." He took the hand that touched his cheek and kissed it. Then he kissed her and she responded passionately, knowing this would be their last moment together. When they broke off, he whispered, "Elinor." She kissed him softly again, but then closed her eyes and said, "Go to your fiancee." With that he left.

When she returned, hours later, Margaret ran to meet her at the gate.

"Elinor! Edward is gone! You missed saying good-bye to him! He received a letter from London and was forced to go, and mama says it will probably be some time until he can free himself from his mother to return. Where were you? Are you not upset at him leaving."

"He had to do what was right and honourable." And he had to break my heart. It was predestined. Be rational for heavens sake, she told herself, as though willing herself to accept the fete accompli she had been presented with. Then she smiled at Margaret, "Still, the Colonel is here, which is nice for Marianne." Margaret frowned, "Of course it is nice for Marianne. Sometimes Elinor, I find you very puzzling. Why are you not upset at Edward's leaving?"

"If you do not think me upset, then you truly do not know me," Elinor said, taking her sisters hand; "Come, let us forget Mr. Ferrars and see what Betsy has prepared for lunch."

Part 7

The days soon turned into weeks since Edward's departure. Marianne and the Colonel became closer, and Elinor more solitary. She grew sad and paler, and the beautiful eyes that had once sparkled with gentleness and love, now looked sad and subdued. No-one noticed, except her mother who supposed her pining for Edward. Each day Elinor expected to hear news from London that Mr. Edward Ferrars and Lucy were engaged, but none came. This was surprising since Lucy had gone to London to stay with Mrs. Palmer. Mrs. Jennings was planning to visit next month and had persuaded Marianne to accompany her, to look for her trousseau. The sole reason for Marianne's consent was that the Colonel had business in London and she wanted to be near him. Mrs. Jennings had also tried to entice Elinor to go, but was met with refusal. Elinor dreaded the thought of meeting Edward…with Lucy.

Mr. Willoughby also called frequently. He was a pleasant young man; handsome, good-humoured, but he was not Edward. He had a habit of accompanying her on walks, and talking to her, of many things; plays, art, books, music. But Willoughby lacked that certain rugged gallant charm only Edward possessed. She liked John, but only as a friend. He was too frivolous and charming to ever contemplate having a serious relationship with. Sometimes, there was an awkward moment when Willoughby looked as though he was about to say something serious. She moved her head away or walked a little quicker. After eight weeks he grew tired of constant gentle rejection, and went to London. Elinor owned privately to herself that she did not see him go without some regret, but nothing compared to the heart wrenching misery she felt when Edward went.

Chapter 8 Continued

Posted on Monday, 5 April 1999

Mrs. Dashwood was disappointed that her eldest daughter and Mr. Willoughby did not develop a relationship. Though she loved her eldest daughter dearly, she could not help being resentful that Elinor had wasted two perfectly good and handsome suitors, and to add to this seemed to be loosing her looks as well. It was time to take matters into her own hands. She badgered and protested and wheedled and criticized until Elinor could stand it no longer! Every day her mother nagged and fretted. Eventually she sought solace in London and agreed to accompany Marianne. Then she realised that this was her mother's plan all along, but it was too late and everything had been arranged. Elinor had no option but to go to London…. and face her nightmare. Marianne could not understand her reluctance. It was puzzling since her sisters two admirers were in London and Elinor did not want to go near either.

The party arrived in London with the usual fuss and invitations extended. Colonel Brandon was hailed as the luckiest man alive when his bride appeared in public and it was supposed that eldest sister was not long from the state of matrimony, as Mr. Willoughby was one of her most constant companions. The rumours and speculation were very active. However a few days after they had settled in, he sent his apologies to Mrs. Jennings and disappeared. About the same time the colonel was also called away on business. Though Marianne was upset, Elinor wasn't. Again she realised she still couldn't ever love Willoughby, but only ever admire and respect him. He promised he would be back though, and subconsciously Elinor decided that if he returned and if he proposed, she would consent. After all, respect, trust and admiration were the next best things to love.

The colonel returned the following Thursday looking grave and serious. He sought out Elinor alone first of all before greeting his fiancée. When he was told she was is the drawing room alone, he quickly went there. Closing the door behind himself he sat her down and quietly told her all the particulars about Beth, her illegitimate child, and Willoughby's part in the whole affair. Elinor was shocked.

"Are you sure, quite sure Willoughby was involved?" she asked desperately, wanting to believe the best in her friend.

"Yes, there can be no doubt," the Colonel said firmly but gently.

"I can't believe it. I just can't seem to believe it," said she, shaking her head, "I knew he was very lively, but I had not supposed him capable of this."

"I know you are attached to him, but I'm afraid it's true. For Beth's sake can you keep this to herself? I shall only tell Marianne. As my fiancee she deserves to know."

"Yes, and the news would travel within minutes if Mrs. Jennings were to hear of it," Elinor smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes.

The Colonel began, "I wish it hadn't hap--"

"No, no, don't wish it hadn't happened. It's better I know now of Willoughby's true character, though I am truly sorry for Beth. It was good of you to tell me."

"To own the truth I debated with myself over what to do for two whole days. After I'd seen Beth, I did not know what to do. If I told you, I thought you might take it badly and suffer a lot, yet I knew you'd suffer a lot more if I hadn't told you."

"Forgive me if I am not thankful Christopher, but I am grateful."

"You are a strong woman. I did not think you would bear this so bravely. I understand you were in love with him, and how devastating this must be."

"You think I was in love with Willoughby? I was never in love with him. Did I give that impression? I liked him and he listened to me. After Ed—Marianne got engaged, I suppose I felt a little bit lonely or left out. Not that it was her fault: it's simply my peculiar temperament. And so Willoughby was there: someone to talk to, or rather, someone to listen to. I suppose the fact that he did nearly propose, while this was going on upsets me. Nothing to do with jealousy or betrayal though, it's just my feminine vanity. However," she said, rising out of the chair she had occupied, "what's done is done and what's gone is gone. I shall miss his friendship: but nothing more."

Colonel Brandon was astounded that Elinor could be so accepting and understanding. He didn't know that this was not the worst news she had ever received. Somehow, after your dearest father has died and you discover the man you love is engaged to another, the fact that a friend shows less than admirable qualities is terribly disappointing, but not heart breaking, and Elinor had never been one for bursting into tears or taking fainting fits. She told the Colonel so when he inquired after her health.

"Do not worry Christopher. You will not need to keep the upper story windows locked or remove all sharp objects from the house. I will be fine, but if you would not mind very much, could you leave me by myself for a few moments, and detain Marianne for a while after you tell her, somehow I feel her sympathy could be a little hard to bear."

The Colonel left to find his fiancee and Elinor felt at liberty to bury her face in her hands and sigh with some feeling, though not too much as to make her hypocritical. She tried to be honest with herself, it was not that she loved Willoughby. Why then should she feel this vivid sense of loss? She puzzled over it, and then realised the cause. While Willoughby was present, there was always this sense of security, that she would never be alone and that if loneliness ever became too much for her, she could always marry a dear friend. For, being alone was the one thing Elinor dreaded happening as she grew old, and now that Willoughby was gone, her last chance of happiness was gone also. She did not fool herself: she was getting older, her looks were going and she had practically no dowry to speak of. What possibility was there of meeting a man who would marry her, who would actually love her? Slim to none, and Elinor was determined not to hope for miracles, fairytales or magic spells any more. She decided to go home to Barton Cottage. Perhaps she could get a post as a governess somewhere. Anywhere, as long as she did not have to face Edward, Lucy or Willoughby ever again.

Part 9

Jones' Inn
Bridge Row
January 8th

Dearest Elinor,

God knows what you must think of me! I can think of no possible excuse: this incident occurred because of my damned arrogant and libertine behaviour. I know you must be shocked, and if you send this back unopened I shall understand. But you have always been my friend, the only true one I've ever felt I possessed. As I child, I made friends who lasted into my youth, but none as trustworthy and as important to me as you are. I have no right to ask to you for anything – you need feel no shame in refusing to answer this, but Elinor – I need help, most desperately. You are the only person I can ask. I value your opinion so much that I don't know what to do to redeem myself. Mrs. Smith has disowned me. I stand to inherit nothing. This saddens me but I understand why and curse myself for my damned weakness. Those few months that I spent with you instilled in me a sense of honour , respect and righteousness. You will probably laugh at the irony of this, and not believe me. But I am most sincere – advise me my dearest friend, what do I do now? I'm lost. My whole world has turned upside down and I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of blackness. Your gentleness and good sense make me turn to you for help. What right have I to expect anything from you, yet something in me dares to hope. I feel as though I have said to much and yet nothing at all in this letter. I have not even said sorry. If you can, forgive me? I can't seem to get anything right. Please help me, I don't know what to do,

Yours,
John Willoughby

Berkeley Street,
January 9th
18—

Dear Mr. Willoughby,

I received your letter this evening. Yes, I was shocked and determined not to help when I first read it, your behaviour and the "incident" as you refer to it, had defiled you so completely in my opinion. But you need help, you need me and you place your trust in me. I cannot ignore your despair. I believe the only thing you could do is to marry Beth. She is staying in the country somewhere, but if you come and have an interview with the Colonel, perhaps he will help you. If not, I will help, some how. For some reason I believe the things you said in your letter. Yes, what you did was reprehensible and absolutely obscenely awful, but please try and amend as much as you can. Marry Beth and try to be happy, for both your sakes and the baby. You have Combe Magna: It is a start. Do what is right, John, I trust you, and believe in you,

Your friend,
Elinor Dashwood

Jones' Inn
Bridge Row
January 15th
18—

Dear, dearest Elinor,

You alone have given me hope. I will do exactly as you say. Beth deserves a life, a decent husband and a good home. I owe it to her and my child. You are a true friend. Tomorrow I shall see the Colonel. I have sent him a letter informing him of my intentions. Thank you for standing by me.

Yours respectfully
J. Willoughby

Berkeley Street,
London
January 16th
18—

Dear Beth,

I write to bring you good news. What you said could never in a thousand years happen, is going to. Mr. Willoughby has just been here. Though I still can hardly look at him, he is rising in my opinion. My dear child, he is going to stand by you and marry you. Do not think I had anything to do with this. I know how your mind sometimes works: You think, "The Colonel has paid him to do this." It is not so. The young man decided to do so of his own accord. He is on his way to you now as I write this. I know you will be happy, as you confessed to me that you still love him. But if for any reason, you feel that you do not want to marry him, I shall not be angry or offended. You do whatever you feel you want to, but I think I know what you want. If I can be of any help, write, send an express or even come to me in person. Never feel that I would not like to see you,

Yours,
Christopher Brandon

Newtown,
Sussex
February 27th
18---

Dear Miss Dashwood,

Perhaps I am being forward in writing to you. I know nice young ladies like yourself shouldn't mix with girls like me, especially in my situation. But I had to write to thank you. Please don't be offended. If it were not for you, I would never be happy. The wedding was this morning, and though the vicar looked down his nose, as he had every right to, but at the end he did say that it was good that John had stood by me, after everything that happened. I know none of this could have happened with out you. John told me how good you were. I would like to meet you in person and thank you, but I understand if you don't want to be associated with me. Please give my love to Colonel, tell him he was right.

Yours sincerely,
Elizabeth Willoughby

Berkeley Street,
London
March 3rd
18—

Dear Mrs. Willoughby,

Do not feel you have no right to address me. If ever I can be of any help to either of you or your son, write. I heard the wonderful news from Colonel Brandon, that Mrs. Smith has reinstated your husband as her heir, after hearing of his honourable behaviour. This is such a joyful relief. I would like to meet you when you come to Devonshire. I reside at Barton Cottage with my mother, my sister Marianne (Christopher's fiancee) and my sister Margaret. I understand that I am to say you are a young widow and that your parents died, with your husband when you came over from America where you had been staying for the past twelve years. Who can deny this? As far as I am concerned Willoughby met you in the park and it was love at first sight. No-one except my sister, Colonel Brandon, Mrs. Smith and Willoughby know
any different as you apparently have altered so much and lost so much weight as to become unrecognizable to any former friends. I do hope we can become friends and life will be better for you now.

Yours in friendship,
Elinor Dashwood

Part 10

THE LONDON TIMES
APRIL16TH EDITION—

Society Column:
Mr. Willoughby returned to London with his new bride the former Mrs. Elizabeth Yates. Mrs. Willoughby lost her first husband and parents to illness on the trip from America to England ten months ago. She had been staying in Boston, after her father moved there to start up a textile business. She and her son Timothy from her first marriage have moved to the Devonshire with her husband after visiting one of Mr. Willoughby's friends and a former family friend of Mrs. Willoughby's Colonel Brandon who is shortly getting married to Miss Marianne Dashwood in May. Some sources had reported a match between Miss Dashwood's elder sister Miss Elinor to Mr. Willoughby but evidently this was all simply rumours. The newly married couple are reported to be very much in love and looking forward to spending their future together at Allenham, Mr. Willoughby's estate which he has just inherited after Mrs. Smith's death a week ago (see Obituaries).

Mr. Robert Ferrars has recently inherited a great deal of money as a result of his grand uncles death. His uncle had been presumed dead after the family lost contact with Mr. Gordon when he traveled to Africa on a mining expedition. Apparently, Mr. Gordon made a tidy fortune from his travels and it was left to the younger Ferrars as his brother Mr. Edward Ferrars is due to inherit his own estate. One source says that Mr. Robert's fortune however has now made him richer than his brother. Can this be true? Apparently yes.

Mrs. Willoughby was welcomed into the new neighbourhood. Not one person guessed her real identity and she was given much sympathy as a young widow. Though some people would say that little Timothy looked a little like Willoughby, it was dismissed as pure coincidence. Marianne and Elinor were nearly finished in London with all their dealings with dressmakers and florists, and the wedding was fixed for a month away.

Lucy Steele became a frequent caller at Berkeley Street, though she was now staying with Fanny and John. She complained and despaired for hours about her engagement when she and Elinor were alone in conversation. This wearied Elinor immensely, but she tried to be patient (her role in Willoughby's marriage making her a little more charitable and kinder.) However each time Lucy left she made Elinor all the more sure that any chance with Edward was forever lost to her. Then for a two weeks Lucy's calls became less and less recurrent. This puzzled Elinor, but she thought that Edward and Lucy must be spending more and more time in each others company, and this pained her.

One morning Elinor sat brooding over the whole thing. She realised that she had never stopped loving Edward. The memory of his smile and laugh still had the power to make her feel warm and happy, and thinking of the kiss they had shared, made her feel all the more gloomy. Try as she might, she couldn't forget his gentleness, his good humour, his gallantry and gentlemanlike behaviour. She loved him, and probably would never stop. She had to get out of the house, and into fresh air. A walk would cheer her up and make her see things in perspective.

She decided to go to the park, and asking her sister to accompany her, they made their way there. It was a beautiful sunny day, and already Elinor felt in much better spirits. She and Marianne were becoming much closer again, after Marianne realised that she had been neglecting her.

"Why Elinor! There is Miss Steele and Mr. Robert Ferrars. Why do you suppose they are alone?" asked Marianne noticing the couple.

Elinor knew Lucy was trying to warm her way into the family for Edward's sake, but did not say this. She shrugged, "I cannot imagine any possible reason."

"It is a shame that it was not Edward, you could have talked to him. Still, it is likely Miss Steele has seen us. We had better say how do you do," Marianne said and they walked over to them. Surprisingly, Lucy seemed also embarrassed to see them. She could not quite meet Elinor's eye but instead inquired after Mrs. Jennings and the Colonel. Marianne, who as a result of her engagement was feeling very generous, invited her to the wedding and even invited to Robert, as she had met him a few times at various balls and parties.

"As Fanny, John and Edward are going, it seems only right to include you as well."

"Edward is going?" asked Lucy. Marianne confirmed this.

"Oh." Marianne and Elinor made their farewells and continued on home.

The next day, Mrs. Jennings left to go to her friends for the morning. She was barely gone five minutes when she rushed back into her house breathless. Elinor and Marianne wondered what was the matter, and concerned for her help helped her sit down and calm herself.

"What do you think, my dears. Cousin Lucy has eloped! With Robert Ferrars to Gretna Green!"

The astonishment this remark evoked was great. Robert and Lucy? Elinor suddenly began to feel light headed. Could it be possible? Dare she even hope?

"Apparently, she and Robert made their engagement known to his family, and his sister and mother were outraged. Dreadful scenes followed and finally Robert and Lucy ran away. I blame your sister in law Fanny. If she had been supportive then Lucy would not have been forced to do this. But I must go now to see Nancy, and see if there is any news."

Just as she was leaving, Mr. Edward Ferrars was announced.

"Mercy me, what on earth can he want? Though I dare say I know, eh Miss Elinor? Look how she blushes Miss Marianne. I dare say there will be another Mrs. Ferrars before long. Come Miss Marianne, you come with me and leave Elinor and Mr. Ferrars alone." Marianne made no protest, and smiled knowingly at Elinor who turned red then white then red again.

He was shown in, and Mrs. Jennings and Marianne made their excuses. He hardly seemed to hear them and barely acknowledged their departure. "I have never seen a man so much in love," whispered Mrs. Jennings as they left her house, "Except the dear Colonel with yourself my dear."

The End

Posted on Saturday, 10 April 1999

Elinor, now alone with him, stood there staring at him and was unable to say anything. She knew she should be elated at this moment, but there was something wrong…. she couldn't define it…. but suddenly she didn't want him to propose. He had left her…for Lucy Steele, and now that she was gone, Edward came back to her. Would it have been so very hard to break his engagement? Her heart cried yes, think of what he would have felt, her head said no, Lucy would have been disappointed, but not injured. What should she do?

Edward as though sensing her distress, said, "Elinor, I know you must hate me at this moment, indeed you have every reason in the world, and I--I would not blame if you told me to leave this instant."

Elinor shook her head, "No, I could never hate you, but I'm so terribly confused at the moment. I feel as though I ought to shout at you, or give out to you for leaving me for all these months, but I know that I cannot."

"Can you ever forgive me? I value your gentleness and good sense so much, that if you could never love me, I would like to be your friend."

His words were echoes of those written by Willoughby in his letter pleading for help. Beth had forgiven him and he had done much worse than Edward, yet why could Elinor not bring herself to forgive him? Was she so petty, so unfeeling, so vain?

"I can forgive you Edward, but I don't know if I want to," she answered truthfully.

He looked so nervous and disappointed, that it was all she could do to stop herself from reassuring him, and telling him she would marry him. But what kind of happiness could they hope to achieve while their marriage was clouded with doubt?

He replied, "I--I understand. Forgive me for taking up so much of your time." He turned and walked towards the door.

"Edward!" Elinor cried. He turned with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Why did you never come to see us? Why did you ignore me for all these months?" she asked feebly, trying to think of a better thing to say.

He was puzzled, "Why? Because I knew if I came near you, spoke to you, listened to you, I wouldn't be able to help breaking the engagement, and I was terrified of what Lucy would do. Each time I met her, she hinted that she would bring it all out in the open. I didn't care at first, but then she said how every one would be laughing at you and sympathizing and pitying you, I couldn't bear for you to go through that. And there was Willoughby."

"Willoughby?"

"Yes, you were mentioned frequently as being his intended. I didn't know what to do. I thought that if I were to free myself from Lucy, you might not even want me. I thought that you were in love with him, and I didn't want to ruin it for you. After all, I'd met him. He was charming, gentlemanly and handsome…everything you should have in a husband…everything I'm not."

Everything I'm not. The words haunted her. She didn't want Willoughby, and his charm…she wanted Edward. He hadn't been weak at all. Everything he had done, he had done for her.

"I don't know what to think," she said feeling very confused, "I thought…."

"That I didn't want to upset my mother and Lucy. That I was weak and indifferent. In a way you could be right."

"I don't love Willoughby. I never have."

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, "You aren't just saying that because he married someone else?"

"No. He proposed to me once, and I refused," she said shyly, "While there was you, there could never be anyone else."

Edward could hardly believe what she was saying. "Do you mean to say, despite everything: my engagement, my secrecy, my weakness, you still loved me?"

"I still do, and I'm sorry for being such a fool," she said.

"No, it is me who should apologise, my behaviour was appalling."

"But I should have seen what had happened between us. It's all my fault."

"No it's all my fault, I should never have asked Lucy to marry me."

Suddenly Elinor began to smile.

"What is so funny?" he asked.

"I've just thought that if the world ended now, we would probably sit here together arguing that it was our own fault." He smiled.

"If the world ended now, I wouldn't care as long as we were together." Elinor blushed and tried to look away, but he wouldn't let her. He held her chin until she looked into his eyes.

"I love you, and I want to marry you," he said.

"I think," she replied, "That is the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me."

He took her hand and placed a ring on her finger. It was pretty, with a small blue sapphire surrounded by little diamonds.

"It wasn't Lucy's," he said, before she said anything. "She wanted something dreadfully ornate and choose a huge ruby with two diamonds either side. It looked as though it could do someone a lot of harm. When she told me about Robert and gave it back to me, I went for a walk, and threw it in the Thames. I couldn't bear to have any reminders of her…or my foolishness. Then I went to a jewelers and bought this thinking of you. I thought that even if you would never agree to marry me, I could keep it to remind me of you and what I lost."

"It's beautiful, but if it was made of cheap metal with no diamonds, I'd still wear it because it would mean I would belong to you."

"If I had have known that, think of the money I could have saved," he grumbled in mock irritation. She laughed and he felt like the luckiest man on earth, to have Elinor…here in his arms. He commented in a more lighthearted tone, "Do you know my stutter is likely to come back during highly emotional moments like these."

"Would that be a problem for you?" Elinor asked.

"It could be…too many blunders over I--I--I lo--lo--lo--love y—y--you might lead you to believe I wasn't being honest. It would also be very irritating."

"Then I shall have to say it for you. I love you." He was within seconds of kissing her when Marianne's voice sounded in the hall, and they quickly pulled apart and sat down at the furthest point away from each other, trying to look serious and solemn.

She knocked and walked in, and was disappointed not to see them closer. Had nothing happened? She decided to find out.

"How are you Edward?" she asked.

"As well as can be expected," he replied in a dull tone. Marianne resisted the urge to roll her eyes and turned to Elinor, "And you Elinor, did you have a pleasant morning?"

"No pleasanter than any other," she replied in a similar flat voice, "By the way, has Mrs. Jennings returned yet? It was she, Mr. Ferrars actually came to see today."

"What!" Marianne cried, but calmed herself, "I mean was it of much importance Edward?"

He nodded and then said that it was a matter of some urgency.

"Indeed? Anything I could help you with?" she asked. Perhaps he needed to see Mrs. Jennings to ask her for her consent…after all she was Elinor's guardian here in a way.

"No…unless you know anything about bunions," he answered, trying to keep his face straight.

"Bunions!" Marianne nearly screamed, "Why would you need Mrs. Jennings advice on those. They're just blisters on one's feet."

"No, Marianne" Elinor interrupted, "They're much more serious."

"Alas Miss Marianne, my mother is sadly inflicted with them, and bade me to go to Mrs. Jennings to ask her for her recommendation of a cure. I have discuss the matter in depth with your sister, but I would much rather Mrs. Jennings advice."

Marianne was shocked, "Do you mean to tell me you two have spent the last half hour alone…discussing bunions?"

"Yes," Elinor said convincingly, "Why should we have discussed something else?"

Marianne was disgusted. Her sister had wasted perhaps her last chance of happiness by talking about a distasteful illness. Had she no sense? What a squandered opportunity!!

"I advised Mr. Ferrars that his mother's feet should be bound and placed in a dish of salt water. Would that be correct Marianne?"

"What? What do I know of bunions Elinor?"

"Perhaps your sister is wrong, Miss Marianne," Edward replied, "After all, salt water destroys one's sin…especially one's hands."

"I really do not know," she replied morosely.

"It also tarnishes jewelry, especially rings," Elinor added, smiling at Edward.

Marianne saw her smile and wondered. She glanced at Elinor's hand and as she had hoped an engagement ring rested on her third finger. She jumped up out of her seat and ran over to her sister. Hugging her, she said reproachfully, "You wretch! Why did you not tell me?"

"We wanted to tease you," Elinor said, "You do have to admit, we nearly had you convinced."

"Well…sooner or later I would have realised that you both were not so dull. Come, brother, I should hit you, but a hug will suffice." After she had done this, Edward excused himself, saying, "I really should go to Devonshire and ask for Mrs. Dashwood's consent."

"You already have it, Edward," Mrs. Dashwood's voice said coming into the parlour.

"Mother!" Elinor cried, "What are you doing here?"

"Colonel Brandon brought Margaret and I. Marianne wanted my advice on materials," she said, but seeing Elinor's dubious look added, "And I also wanted to make sure you and Edward wouldn't do anything foolish."

"Like what mama?" Marianne asked.

"Oh, I don't know… marry each other?" They all laughed, and Edward left them with a special look for Elinor, to go and tell his mother.

Who can be in doubt of what followed? Mrs. Dashwood consented readily, determined not have another scandal and allowed Edward to keep his inheritance. The Colonel and Marianne's wedding became a double one, and Mrs. Dashwood was never as happy as the day when she saw her two pretty eldest daughters married to two handsome deserving young men.

Edward settled uneasily to life as a gentleman, but after a few months had his estate well in hand. He maintained good standards of living and work for his tenants, and Elinor and he set to work encouraging other gentlemen to do the same. He and Elinor were very happy and were blessed with a son and two daughter. They were frequent visitors of Delaford and the two families were very close. At Delaford, they were blessed with four daughters and three sons, all of which inherited a great love of nature, art and literature from their mother. Captain Margaret was ecstatic when she learned that Edward was to become her brother. They discussed maps and voyages each time they met, or rather she discussed them animatedly and he listened. She married a handsome young man of good fortune after a few years, and settled down to becoming mistress of a grand estate. Margaret abandoned her daydreams of adventure and only mentioned them when she was telling bedtime stories to her children. Needless to say, she and her husband were delighted when her second eldest son became an explorer.

Lucy and Robert returned to London and bought a town house and a barouche. However these had to be sold after three years when Roberts gambling debts became rather large, and they went to Mrs. Ferrars for mercy, which she showed grudgingly, as Robert was still her favourite son.

And the Willoughbys lived contentedly at Allenham. They had no more children, but were still one of the happiest couples in Devonshire. After the initial awkwardness, they became friends with the Brandons and the Ferrars. Between Marianne and Willoughby, there was no awkwardness, because they had never knew what it was to love each other, and therefore Marianne's Preserver must always be her husband.

The End