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Part 14A
"You are dressed up," observed Henry, who had naturally decided to go.
"Yes, so I am."
Henry grinned. "I see that you are wearing the ring-you mean to throw it at his feet?"
Melissa laughed. "It will be the first thing I do!"
But when she saw Tim, she was overjoyed with feeling. She had not realized how much she had missed him.
"Miss Crawford," he said with a warm smile, quickly taking her hand, "I am so glad to see you!"
Melissa smiled. "Mr. Bertram, Mr. Bertram, you were away for too long." She stopped and mused, demurely looking at the floor. She saw her hand and laughed. "I thank you for this ring, though it was not needed-I forgave you a long time ago!"
She noticed a blush come to Tim's face.
"I saw it," he said, "and I thought you would like it."
"And I do! only that I am afraid that it may cause another problem." Tim raised his eyebrows in inquiry, and Melissa continued, "It seems that letters and gifts are prohibited between young ladies and gentlemen, but rings are the worst. I think that Mrs. Grant believes we are engaged again, and this time it is your fault!"
Tim laughed. "So you don't want the ring?"
"Oh! I want to keep it, but I promised that I would fling it at your feet."
"Well?"
"Well, I think I'll keep it." She smilingly removed her slipper and placed the ring inside to safely hide it. "Don't tell!"
Their laughter was interrupted when Edmund came to join their group. He observed them gravely and whispered something into Tim's ear.
"Oh yes!" Tim laughed. "Yates! I forgot about him."
Melissa was shocked. "You forgot Mr. Yates?"
"No, he is here," said Edmund as Tim walked off. "Mr. Yates is still out in the hall-I think he is waiting to be introduced."
"Well, of course," laughed Melissa. She looked to the doorway in anticipation of seeing the celebrated character. "Now, what is your opinion of this Yates?" she asked Edmund quietly.
Edmund bravely suppressed a groan, but his face looked disapproving. "Oh, that Yates! A more foolish fop I never yet met before in my life!"
Melissa laughed. "Oh, dear! Thank you for preparing me! I am now ready to be amused perfectly by the man!"
Edmund looked at her, not with disapproval, but something more observant.
Suddenly, the door opened and in came Mr. Yates. Not exactly stepped, or strode, but entered, in the most theatrical fashion imaginable. He paused at the doorframe, and looked around.
Part 14B
Melissa stared at him, rather dazzled. One could certainly say he was dressed for the spotlight, so wonderful was his clothing. His waistcoat was an iced lemon with puce stripes, which was accented by a navy blue coat trimmed with gold braid. His pantaloons were an interesting shade of maize with a touch of gold, and his cravat was tied in the Oriental. The boots were obviously polished with champagne-blacking, and had little golden tassels at the top. The most stunning thing, however, was his hair. It was straight down most of the way, but he had the oddest curls at the top-just like from the movie! she reflected. Melissa was far too dazed to laugh out loud at the magnificent fop before her.
She immediately resolved to move over to him, but somehow her eyes couldn't drag themselves away from his sartorial arrangements to make herself walk over. Luckily, Tim was herding him right over to her.
When he arrived in front of her, his hands went to his breast, and he bowed gracefully. He then took her hand, and kissed it dramatically.
"Hello, Miss Crawford! Such a pleasure to meet you! As you stand there, you make me think of Amelia." His voice was somewhat high-pitched, and his eye was definitely roving over her. She made to speak, but he held out his arm dramatically.
"No! Don't move, Miss Crawford! Stay, as you are!" He then turned his head over to Edmund, and spoke with enthusiasm. "Does she not put you in mind of Amelia, as well?"
Edmund glowered at him. "The only thing she puts me in mind of is herself."
"Amelia?" asked Melissa, out of the side of her mouth.
"Amelia? Why, from Lovers' Vows, of course! Have you not read Lovers' Vows?"
Melissa faintly remembered reading the play. "I am a little familiar with it, yes."
He smiled. "Is it not so good? I was at a party at Ecclesford, the home of Lord Ravenshaw. There was an acting party, and we acted Lovers' Vows. I was to have been Count Cassel-a trifling part, not to my taste at all. I should have been the Baron, but Lord Ravenshaw had already taken the part when I arrived. He was such a little man, with a weak voice. Such a little dab of a man, and he kept forgetting his lines."
Melissa smiled. "I am sure, Mr. Yates, you would have been a much better Baron than any other man!"
This speech struck Yates with her good sense and intelligence. Immediately, a rapport was established between the two, but luckily (or unluckily, depending on who you were,) Mr. Yates and Melissa were far apart from each other at the table. Luckily for Tim, however, Melissa graced his right hand and Edmund was not around to distract her-to her right was Maria, with Henry Crawford beside her.
"It's great to see you again, Melissa," he whispered to her across the mutton. "What do you think of Yates now?" with a significant look over at the man at the other end of the table.
"I think he might be better than I imagined him to be!"
Tim looked at her with surprise, accidentally dropping his fork to his place with a loud clang.
"Better?" he asked. "I have seen more conservatively dressed men on London's West End. If you paint the Mansfield pianoforte pink, and place Yates by it, I think he may beat out Liberace. The man is gay."
Melissa broke into laughter. "He is not!" She was interrupted when a plate of fruit from Weymouth was passed to her, but continued in a whisper, "Did not you see how shamelessly he flirted with me?"
"I don't see how that's anything to be proud of," murmured Tim with a smirk.
Melissa laughed and begged silence so as to be able to watch the visitor, who was perfectly unaware that he was being disparaged by his Weymouth 'friend.' His good-humor was not even lessened any when he hit his head against the chandelier.
"I do apologize, madam," he said to Mrs. Norris as he smoothed out his curls, bringing them back to their usual bird nest-like shape with the help of a spoon for a mirror.
Mrs. Norris smiled civilly. She had never heard of any grand people by the name of Yates among society, but there was always the possibility that he had a good income. His clothes looked expensive, to be sure, though Mrs. Norris rather looked down upon their want of economy. Still, his wife could always improve him after marriage, and if Mr. Yates possessed a greater fortune than Mr. Crawford, perhaps he would do for Julia . . .
"It is perfectly fine, my dear Mr. Yates. I always knew that this would happen one day. I told Sir Thomas that he needed a smaller light fixture, but he would not listen."
Mr. Yates assured her that he was well and that his head did not ache; indeed, he did not even think that his head had been hit. It was his hair, but he had brushes and pomades enough in his bags to fix it later.
As amusing as Melissa found the situation to be, she wished to hear Mr. Yates speak on some other subjects.
"You were speaking of Lovers' Vows," she began with a smile. "Are you a great fan of plays, Mr. Yates?"
"I am excessively fond of the theatre, my dear Miss Crawford. Lovers' Vows is a brilliant work, as are most tragic works. It is the perfect play: there are plenty of good ranting parts and a few comic, though I myself cannot abide a comedy. Sheridan writes mostly comedies, and they are what is popular, though I cannot see why. I prefer a tragedy-one with passion and fire." He struck his fist to the table as he spoke, raising his voice as he went along. "I cannot see the point of putting on a play-no, I cannot see the point of acting if the part is not Othello or Hamlet."
"I agree," said Melissa, trying to keep back her amusement, "but that seems rather hard for any females interested in acting. What are they to play? Are you against women acting?"
"Certainly not! The introduction of women to the stage has been one of the greatest improvements of the theatre. Can you imagine a man in the role of Juliet or of Desdemona? No, I cannot. Likewise with Agatha and Amelia, two very fine parts in the great Lovers' Vows."
Soon Mrs. Norris proposed that they do something else. She was bored to hear of the plays-she would rather listen to Mr. Yates speak of his family-and she saw that no good would come to the table from being passionately pounded by the impressive man's fist.
So, they went to the drawing room once done with the meal, and before either Yates or Edmund could corner her, Tim offered his arm and took her along with him into the room, and sat down beside her.
"Now, Melissa, you must tell me of what has happened here in my absence. How was Sotherton? What has your darling Henry been up to?"
"He has been flirtatious, certainly-but with Maria." She frowned, remembering all of the smiles directed at Maria and Fanny's expressionless face the day of Sotherton.
Tim nodded. "I see. What kind of reproof did he give you?"
She blinked. "How did you guess?"
"I had a feeling he wouldn't let anyone meddle in his life, not even his dearest sister." He smiled slightly. "Melissa, you know that you're taking a great risk. Are you sure that all will go to plan?"
Melissa shrugged. "I really don't know, Tim, but I'm going to do my best. Really, I don't think I've done so bad as I could have. Henry is not as bad in Fanny's mind as he probably was before. Besides, now that you are back, you can help again! You can prepare Maria by telling her about a girl you met that was dropped by Henry or something. She just needs to doubt him some more, and who knows? Maybe she'll attach herself to Yates," she said with a chuckle.
Tim raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly, but became serious. "And your attempts to avoid Edmund?"
Melissa laughed. "Now that I have been successful in! I managed to make myself appear flighty and have disgraced myself so that I think Edmund certainly doubts whether I have the sainthood necessary to make him a good wife. Trust me, he will not propose any time soon. I'm far too depraved to make him a proper wife."
Tim kept his face solemn, but he thought back to when he arrived at Mansfield. He had intended to take Fanny and Edmund by surprise in the garden, but he had heard the name 'Crawford' come up, and so he had crouched behind some bushes to listen to them.
"What think you of Miss Crawford, Fanny?" Edmund had asked.
Fanny's voice was somewhat hesitant. "I think she has the ability to make herself agreeable, and is very lively, but I think she is somewhat too light-hearted."
"Indeed, Fanny! She is a wonderful, warm-hearted and very unaffected girl, considering her upbringing in London. She is intelligent, but has a tenancy to gaiety. However, I think she is not deficient in morals or conviction, and I think that if only her excessive spirits could be better directed, she would make an excellent wife. I also sense that she is somewhat skeptical of the Church, but I think that she could change her opinions, given time. She is such an excellent creature, and sometimes she smiles at me so that I would dare to hope-"
Tim heard the man sigh deeply, and he slightly gasped, surprised. He had no idea that Edmund thought so highly of her, but it made sense. He only worried that soon Edmund would decide she was ready and propose. It was not inconceivable-he was already in the throes of love, and he was convinced that she was practically perfect for him-he could only wonder what Melissa would say. Would she accept him? or not?
Melissa now observed his musing with a laugh.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how terrible it would be to be married to Edmund. You wouldn't accept him if he did propose, would you?"
She laughed again. "Don't worry, Tim; you'll never be married to him! And I'm sure that the Boy will never propose to me anyway. Do you see him now, with Fanny? He's probably telling her all about my faults-I did laugh at the table a little too much, and you know that he is against every sort of humor."
"Yes. . .." answered Tim, still unconvinced. He considered telling her about the episode in the garden, but finally decided that there would be no benefit in it. Melissa might be adverse to Edmund's attentions now, but surely that could change once she learned the intensity of his affections, once she heard of the smile brought to his handsome face at the mention of Miss Crawford's name . . .
Part 15
Whether or not Edmund had been talking badly of Melissa, he soon came over to her along with Fanny. He made no effort to hide his vexation. He looked at Tim with a frown, not bothering to put on a smile for Melissa.
"Are you telling Miss Crawford of Weymouth?" he asked Tim.
"Yes," interrupted Melissa happily, "and a delightful place it sounds! I have heard all about the horses, parties, and races, but I am most diverted by this friend he has brought. How do you like our visitor, Mr. Bertram?"
Edmund paused with a look of guilt. "Well . . . he is interesting-different than I am used to. You like him, Miss Crawford?"
"Oh, a great deal. He is quite amusing. I adore Weymouth manners."
Fanny smiled kindly, but shook her head. "I think that if those are Weymouth manners, I like country manners best."
Tim laughed. "What? Not all young ladies find Mr. Yates to be so agreeable?"
"Apparently not," said Edmund, looking over at his sisters, who were quite unaware of Mr. Yates when they were happily seated by Henry Crawford.
Melissa shook her head. "Well, not everyone can appreciate genius."
Tim nearly choked. "Genius?" he managed to spit out.
She looked at him with eyes opened wide, a little smile on her lips. "Yes, I said genius."
Suddenly, Maria and Julia turned over towards to Yates, and both appeared to listen. Then, there was furious whispering, and Melissa knew that the theatricals were born.
"What can your two sisters be talking about, Mr. Edmund? They look very excited," she remarked.
Edmund looked over and his brow furrowed. "Indeed, Miss Crawford. I think I shall endeavor to find out what excites them so." He looked back at Melissa, and a smile on her part sent him off on his mission.
Tim raised his eyebrow as he watched the scene, but merely looked serene when Melissa turned back to him. "Are you still so sure everything can be easily managed, Melissa? What play do you plan to have them act? and how will you put them in your cast list?"
Melissa frowned for a moment as she thought, but then her brow cleared. "A plan is not automatically suggested to me, but you need not fear, Mr. Brookston. I will make sure the outcome is favorable for us."
With a smile, she headed over to the group, leaving him laughing. He thought of how Melissa might not always have the answer, but had enough energy and spirit to beat Napoleon at his own game. He made no move to join the group, but just watched.
"Oh, Miss Crawford," said Mr. Yates when he saw Melissa, "I was telling them all of the theatricals we put on at Ecclesford. We were having the most wonderful time, but then Lord Ravenshaw's old grandmamma had to die-a shame, indeed, as I am sure the acting would have immortalized us for at least a twelvemonth. I cannot tell you how angry I was when I heard that the play would have to be given up, for my head was full of acting-indeed, it still is."
"That was very hard of his grandmother," agreed Maria. "I am sure that acting would be fun, so why not raise a little theatre at Mansfield? We could have a stage, and you, of course, would be our manager."
The group grew excited at the suggestion, but Edmund looked even more morose.
"Maria," he said, "do you know what you are saying? A theatre? Where would it be? We do not have the room for a theatre, not to mention that the idea seems very, very wrong."
"Nonsense, brother," broke in Julia. "What could be wrong about a play? I think it would be pleasant-could there be any greater pleasure than acting a part in a theatrical? We need not have so very much room-just enough for a small stage and floor for a few visitors to watch us. Surely Mr. Crawford joins us in our wish?"
"Indeed," answered Henry with an excited smile, "I really believe I could be fool enough to undertake any character that was ever written, from Shylock to Richard III down to the singing hero of a farce in his scarlet coat and cocked hat. I feel as if I could rant and storm, or sigh, or cut capers in any tragedy or comedy in the English language."
Melissa laughed. "And I am sure that you would be excellent, dear brother, if you were here to join in, but you will be at Everingham by September."
"I had forgotten," said Henry with a frown. "But perhaps Everingham will not need me after all-I can write to the servants with specific instructions, and they can tend to things."
The Miss Bertrams happily encouraged him to do so, until he said that it was all settled-he would stay at Mansfield to help them with their theatricals.
Tim, who had walked over to observe better, looked at Melissa with alarm. She smiled to assure him, but she herself did not know what to do, and was only glad that Fanny was sitting by herself on the couch and was out of hearing.
Maria, meanwhile, was in the process of explaining the idea to Mrs. Norris, who listened with interest. "And we are sure that it will be very enjoyable," continued Maria, "but Edmund will not hear of it."
"Why not, Edmund?" asked the old lady with disappointment. "What harm can there be in a small theatrical?"
"Much harm, madam. Perhaps I should ask the opposite question-what good can come out of it? Too many problems will arise from having so many inexperienced people act."
No one replied to this, and soon Mr. Yates, pretending not to have heard, proposed the question of which play to act.
"Oh!" cried Mrs. Norris, "you can talk of that later. Surely you will not have any time for acting until after our ball is over. We must hire the violin player still, but I am happy that we will now have five couple, since Mrs. Grant has offered to join us."
Henry Crawford kept to his decision to stay at Mansfield Park, increasing the happiness of everyone. For a few days, the plans of the play were set aside and forgotten about as the anticipation of the ball grew greater. Melissa had forgotten about the dance, whose only moment of greatness occurred when Tom made his joke.
Part 15B
Even though Maria and Julia slightly turned their noses up at the event, Melissa was impressed by the grandeur Mansfield took on at the ball. Her own gown of red, the Miss Bertrams' of light pastels, the smart clothes the young men wore (especially Henry), and the airy melodies from the solitary violinist made it all so much more elegant than the school dances Melissa was used to. Everyone wore a smile, especially Mrs. Rushworth and Mrs. Norris. The two ladies were again talking about Maria and Mrs. Rushworth's dear James, but Maria was fine with it. She had just received a grand, expensive necklace from her fiancé, and so did not mind being with him for the evening.
But just talk would not do. The dancing started, and Melissa, trying to swallow her nerves, stepped to the line, hoping not to make a complete fool of herself. Edmund held his hand to her politely; she cast a glance at Tim, remembering that at least she was not the only one new to the art of country dancing. He smiled with something of a blush as he stood across from Fanny. The violinist struck up a song, and the graceful steps began. Fortunately Edmund knew what to do, but he had the opposite of grace, his tall stature making him rather awkward as he tried to change hands and turn her around. Her feet were glad when Edmund changed to the next partner, and Mr. Yates came up to the line. His dancing was like his manner: bold, dramatic, exaggerated. He bowed to her with all the elegance of a man in a ballet, gallantly privileging her with a great toothy smile. Now up close, Melissa saw that he wore makeup along with his fancy clothes. She could not help but laugh.
Next was Mr. Rushworth, who barely noticed her at all and always kept his eyes and smile upon Maria. Unfortunately he tripped a few times, but by now Melissa's quick mind had picked up the simple dance steps, and she was able to go on even when Mr. Rushworth was on the floor.
Tim, too, had learned the dance reasonably enough. He smiled at her with frustration when he got to her.
"Well I am glad that I'm with you now," he said in a whisper. "Maria and Julia are the most vicious dancers I've ever seen. You, Fanny, and Mrs. Grant are the only ladies I'd care to stand up with."
"It's good you like Mrs. Grant," laughed Melissa, "for I'm sure you agree that she must want a lover as much as any one of them."
"A lover?"
Melissa looked up and saw that the next had come down the line.
"Mary, I am shocked! What have you against our brother-in-law?"
Melissa laughed and felt a little thrill when Henry took her hands, but she tried to hide it with a smile.
"You are a very good dancer, Henry!"
"Am I? Well you know that good dancing is a must for any rake. He has to be decent at every kind of social charm, so I don't think that the boy" (glancing at Edmund) "would make a great rake. Do your feet hurt, dear sister?"
Melissa laughed. "You are too hard on Mr. Bertram! He was not so very bad."
Henry glanced at Edmund somewhat haughtily, observing as 'the boy' stepped on his sister's foot. "Of course . . . and I will immediately reform myself to sainthood."
Melissa giggled again. "I should have known that was coming."
"Indeed, my dear Mary," he said, bowing to her and kissing her hand as the set ended. She went off to the side and took a small goblet of punch, when she heard a voice behind her calling her name.
"Miss Crawford!" called Mr. Yates to her as he crossed the room. However, she turned around and it was Tim at her side.
"My dance, Miss Crawford, I believe!" quoth he.
Mr. Yates looked disturbed, and pulled up his inches to look as imposing as he could against a man a few inches taller than he. "Sir, I was just coming over to ask for Miss Crawford's hand," he said pointed.
"Perhaps she will dance the next with you. She has already promised herself to me for this one."
"Miss Crawford? Is this true?" grandly demanded Yates.
Melissa looked over at Tim's face. It remained impassive, but Melissa could detect a twinkle in his eye. She repressed her own smile, and turned to Yates with an empathetic look.
"I am sorry, Mr. Yates, 'tis true."
Yates' face fell, but he quickly collected himself. "I shall ask Miss Julia, then."
Melissa patted his hand with a small smile. "Do," she said consolingly.
As Yates strode purposefully away, both Tim and Melissa laughed. "You know, Melissa, I think I have reason to be jealous! Should I call Yates to account?" he asked, pulling himself up and looking as dramatic as possible.
Melissa laughed. "Really, between you and Henry, no folly is left unmolested."
He smiled. "Henry and I are quite alike, then?"
She nodded. "Oh, yes. Both you and he are possessed of a very good sense of humor."
"Considering your opinion of Henry, I feel myself quite complimented," he said.
"You're welcome," she said, slightly confused.
"So," continued Tim after a bit of silence, "what were you and your darling Henry talking about? Did he say anything about Fanny?"
"Nothing at all about Fanny," said Melissa with a frown. "We were only talking about the boy."
"What boy?"
"Edmund-about his dancing abilities and my sore feet. I wonder why Mary Crawford never mentioned anything about his horrible dancing!"
Tim laughed. "I think you women expect too much from men! Fanny doesn't mind that the boy is not too light on his feet."
"No," agreed Melissa, "not until the day after, when she has to wrap up her own feet and soak them in ice. It's not an attractive quality to have."
"So the boy's not a Gene Kelly," laughed Tim, "-I can't dance; does that make you like me any less?"
"Well . . ." said Melissa, raising her eyebrows and pretending to observe him, "just a little less."
"Really?" Tim put on a sad frown that was so boyish that Melissa could not help laughing.
"No; I like you just as well, Mr. Brookston! Didn't I say that you are like Henry?"
Tim only answered her with a large grin. Despite her teasing about his dancing, Melissa was enjoying herself with Tim; his good-humor made her forget about Fanny and even Mr. Yates, so she was surprised when she felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around to see the fop.
"Dear Miss Crawford," he began with an elegant bow, "I believe that this dance is mine? Do I have the extreme pleasure?" He offered her a gloved hand, and Melissa could do nothing but assent. Of course she wanted to dance with Mr. Yates-at least she knew that one could never be bored with the Hon. John Yates-but it was so pleasant dancing with Tim.
"Save another dance for me, please," she said over her shoulder to Tim as Mr. Yates swept her off. The violinist started to play a French tune, slow and melodious, but Mr. Yates had decided to double the time of his steps, giving Melissa no other choice but to watch his feet and vainly try to follow the pattern in so fast a tempo.
"I abhor dancing in the right pace," said Mr. Yates; "it is so common-anyone can dance, but it takes an accomplished person to dance at twice the speed. Of course I am not saying that I am so extremely accomplished-dancing is merely a guilty pleasure of mine. I dance whenever I can, so I have learned enough steps over time to be fortunate enough to be skilled in a ballroom."
"I did not know you were a dancer," said Melissa, who admired his precision, but could hardly keep back her laughter as she watched him. "I thought that your main forte was acting, but now I am not so sure."
"Oh!" cried Mr. Yates, "I hope I would fancy myself a better actor. I know that I enjoy the theatre more. There are no felicities in dancing equal to ranting."
"Not even with a particularly agreeable partner, sir?" Melissa ventured to ask with a bold smile.
"Perhaps, perhaps, but I do not know. I have danced with some very accomplished women before, but I love acting. But indeed, Miss Crawford, I do enjoy dancing with you."
"That is kind of you, Mr. Yates!" Melissa wished that she could blush on cue, but that was an art she had yet to learn. Flirting with Mr. Yates was quite fun, but Melissa was tired by the time the dance ended and she was led to a chair.
This time, the tap on the shoulder was from her brother Henry.
Part 15C
"May I sit this one out with you?" he asked, and took the seat next to he without ado. They then watched the dancers going up and down the line.
"Ahh look, there is your Yates, with Miss Julia. What wonderful taste you have, my dear sister. He is properly foolish; a tad tiresome, I am sure, but you seem to like them boring," he said, casting a significant look in the direction of Mrs. Grant and Edmund.
She laughed. "I believe, brother, that we must share the same taste in that direction," she said, casting a sly look at Maria with Rushworth.
Henry laughed heartily. "Touché! Well, I decline to continue this particular battle with you, so let us talk about something else." His eyes wandered over the sight of Tim and Fanny dancing past. "I believe we have not talked about Miss Price for several days between us."
"I thought you wished me to stay out of your affairs," she reminded him gently.
He shook his head. "Mary!" he chided her, "do you really think I should wish you to turn a blind eye to my amusements? Half the fun of my conquests is sharing them with you."
She nodded. "Yes, I know, but you told me no meddling."
He frowned a little at that. "Well, yes, but I thought you knew what I meant! Just don't try and force me along any route . . . I don't mean to totally ignore lovely Miss Price. She really is quite a refreshing young girl."
"You think so?" she murmured in a low tone, not daring to lift her eyes. Henry bent down to catch a glimpse of her face, paused for a moment, and laughed.
"I said so, didn't I?" he replied. "I don't want you to get ideas into your head-I know how your mind works-but there is something quite attractive in Miss Price's sweetness. Not that I'd marry her, mind you."
"Oh, no, marriage is a taboo subject with you; I've given that up a long time ago."
"You?" he laughed. "And when was that, my dear?"
"When you told me to keep out of your affairs." She glanced at him searchingly as he turned his face, pretending to be absorbed in the merriment of the ball.
"You know," he began after a few minutes, "I wonder why you take so much interest in my affairs, in which ladies I pay my attentions to. You never did before."
Melissa blushed. "No, I have always cared. You are my brother."
"Exactly; every family wants to elevate themselves by marrying rich or having their relations marry rich for them: that is what you have always thought of before. Whatever has happened to your lists of heiresses for me, your Miss Wilkenes and Osbournes? Have you changed your views, or is love the new fashion now?"
"Un coup d'état," she murmured. "I believe I have told you my views upon the subject already. I hope you are not as mercenary as you think me?"
Henry looked annoyed. "You know I am not. My actions prove that I don't care for . . ." He broke his train of thought, and resumed again, "I hope you do not think that I am so friendly to the Miss Bertrams because of their dowries."
"I see no other charms to them."
"They are not as rich as you think them to be," said Henry, smiling to retain his patience, "Their brothers will have the most of the fortune. Mr. Tom Bertram, I believe, inherits the Park?"
"Yes." She glanced over at Tim, whose light good features and bright eyes would light up with an occasional smile as he danced with Fanny. How can people think the attraction is the fortune? she thought. She imagined what a wonderful, caring husband Tim would make for a young woman; how much more sterling his qualities were than money. "I believe he does inherit," she went on aloud, "but there is more to Mr. Bertram than monetary riches: he is pleasant and true."
"And you are in love with him," smiled Henry. Now Melissa wished that she was able to keep back her blushes, and she was not helped by Henry's amused manner as he continued. "How glad our sister will be when she learns that her plan has worked!"
Melissa laughed. "Well you will have nothing new to tell her: she already believes that I am engaged to Mr. Bertram."
"Yes, but she had no idea that you were in love with him!" Melissa only shook her head with a smile. Mr. Tom Bertram did not even exist-there was only Tim; and Tim, she . . . no, she could not be in love with him! How foolish it would be for her to fall in love with someone she barely knew, and with a man in something like a dream, no less! Besides, how could he fall for her? She could not see him ever proposing to her, and besides, this was only a dream of sorts. This wasn't real-he was probably just a figment of her imagination, and she couldn't love a figment of her imagination!
Henry smiled as she mused about her realization. "And what do you think of, sister? Are you already planning your wedding? When Mr. Bertram plans to address you, I would like it if he would ask my permission first."
She laughed, coming out of her reverie. "Never fear, Henry, I will send him to you should that event ever arise. But if he should be so impetuous as to not ask you first, I hope you will not be so offended as to refuse to dance at our wedding."
"As you say, you are my sister," he said mildly.
She nodded in reply. "And as such, I will take the liberty to say that I truly don't think you are mercenary-after all, with £4,000 a year you really don't need to worry about the income of your bride."
He looked at her, slightly annoyed for a moment, but smiled wryly. "Thank you," he said graciously, inclining his head.
The dance ended at this moment, and Edmund came up. "Miss Crawford, may I have your hand for this dance?"
She cast a furtive look at Tim, and saw him watching. He turned to Mrs. Grant, so she held out her hand to Edmund. He quickly grasped it, and the two lined up together.
Part 15D
"Mr. Bertram," she said, putting on an engaging smile, "I am glad I am able to dance with you! I believe I have stood up with every other gentleman here, but it is a pleasure to dance with you."
"You have danced with Mr. Yates?" asked Edmund, ignoring her last words. He glanced at Yates after Melissa nodded. "Do you think he is accomplished?" he inquired with a frown.
"Oh, quite. Mr. Yates' manner has been polished very nicely while living in London."
"Yes," answered Edmund with a hint of agitation in his voice. He was dancing even more stiffly, so Melissa was shocked when his feet started to shuffle at rapid speed.
"What are you doing, Mr. Bertram?" she could not help but ask. The sight of Edmund quickly waving his arms theatrically in time with the music and moving his feet at twice the pace was so odd that she could not even laugh. Edmund noticed nothing amiss in her staring, and gave her a broad smile.
"I'm dancing the new London steps," he said, "-surely you have seen them before? You see that fashions are not quite so rarely known among country clergymen."
"No, I never thought," she stammered, but she suddenly burst into laughter when she saw Tim's amazed face as he came by with Mrs. Grant. She was suddenly struck with the great amusement of the scene-how funny Edmund Bertram could be when he tried to impress! Of course her thoughts were not all so happy, as now that Edmund was keeping up with the fast "London" steps of Mr. Yates, his feet were stepping on hers twice as much and twice as hardly. "I never knew that clergymen were so graceful!" she exclaimed.
All he could do was shake his head as his eyes wandered down to his feet. A little haze of sweat gathered on his brow as he concentrated on being fast, while Melissa concentrated on not having her feet trampled any more than was possible. She felt her face redden as she could hear Maria, Julia, and Henry stifling snickers at her partner. When the dance ended, she could only be grateful.
Tim quickly snapped her up for a second dance. As the dance began, nothing was said until Tim austerely said, "I suppose you have learned your lesson from this experience."
"What?" she said suspiciously.
"I believe you said something to Edmund about liking Yates and his London fashions, right?"
She nodded.
"Perhaps you have learned to be careful what you wish for-you just might get it." She sneaked a look at him, and began laughing.
"True! But you must admit, 'twas very amusing."
"Melissa, 'amusing' did not adequately describe that display. I cannot believe I saw that-Edmund Bertram, disco king!" He began laughing again in earnest.
"Oh," she said between torrents of laughter, "you mustn't make fun of him so! He looked hilarious, yes, but I think that it was a noble act he did to try and impress me-would you ever do such a thing?"
"I'm sorry, Melissa," Tim replied with a smile, "but I gave up that sort of dancing after Saturday Night Fever. What has gotten in to the boy?"
"I don't know, but I hope it stays!"
But perhaps the most surprised of them all was Fanny, who was swept off by Edmund as soon as he saw Tim ask Melissa. Fanny was delighted to be asked, as Edmund had only offered her his hand once that evening, and she had been attending Lady Bertram during the great show. However, she soon saw that Edmund's only intention was to display his talents once more to Melissa. It hurt Fanny to know that she was only asked since he needed a partner, as solo break-dancing à la Michael Jackson had not been invented yet.
Edmund did not tone down his methods for Fanny; indeed, he seemed to go faster now that Melissa was further away from him and would have to be summoned by even flashier steps in order to turn her face to him. Now he took full advantage of the deserted dance floor, crossing the room with Fanny in frantic circles. The violinist, apparently amused by the sight, played waltzes as fast as he could now, quite frequently striking the wrong notes due to his overwhelming laughter. Everyone was laughing now-even Mr. Yates-but Edmund did not mind. A smile or a call from his audience only made his feet go faster, his twirls grow more flourished.
However, as the dance came to an end, it became apparent that not everyone was enjoying themselves. Fanny, tired and made breathless from the rapid pace, looked on the verge of tears. Tim was about to go help her when he saw that someone had beaten him to the job: Henry had rushed to the fatigued girl's side, helping her to a chair.
"Are you all right, Miss Price?" he asked with a look of sincere concern. Fanny smiled up at him, releasing her hand from his hold and sweeping her disheveled curls from her forehead.
"I am, Mr. Crawford-I thank you, sir. My aunt is right when she says that I tire too easily," she said with a muffled laugh.
Henry smiled down upon her. "No; an Amazon would tire from that speed, not to mention a such a delicate young girl as yourself." This earned a blush from Fanny, and she did not reply.
Melissa smiled slightly as she watched Henry gallantly take a place next to Fanny and begin to fan her. "Bravo, Henry," she muttered approvingly to herself.
She then observed as, flush-faced, Edmund quickly went over to Fanny, penitent. He borrowed a fan and began to fan her himself, glaring at Henry.
Tim also observed the scene, and glanced back at Melissa, whose face showed no dismay to see Edmund's attentions bestowed so liberally on Miss Price.
However, he also noticed that no matter how undisturbed was Melissa, Maria's feelings were something completely different. She was not so unconcerned with how deliberately Mr. Crawford ignored the angry glare and continued to placidly provide a breeze for Fanny as she patted her face with a handkerchief smelling of lavender-water and tried to dissuade everyone from paying her attention.
"It is only the heat, Mr. Crawford. I am quite all right now," pleaded Fanny.
"I must disagree with you, Miss Price. I am sure you are not at all well. Please allow me to assist you," insisted Henry.
"Forgive me, Fanny! How carelessly I treated you! but I shall make all right now," Edmund declared, with a look at Crawford.
Melissa, observing how quickly this would break down into argument, made her way to Fanny's side, and gave her a penetrating look. "Miss Price, I believe the heat in here is doing you no good. Let us together step outside for some fresh air."
With alacrity did Fanny accept her arm and the two young ladies went alone outside for some words and air.
"I hope that you are not too overheated, Miss Price. I am but sorry that your cousin should make such poor use of you. I apologize quite heartily on his behalf," Melissa said, giving her face a searching look.
Fanny looked her in the eyes, then looked away, embarrassed. Melissa also looked away, not wanting to embarrass her companion so. "I-I-My cousin has quite apologized enough for himself. One becomes quite carried away; I understand that well."
Melissa could feel the silent understanding between themselves, and said no more. As she herself reflected, it did reflect rather badly that Edmund should make such a fool of himself because of her, and with Fanny, in such a way-! She began to feel rather ashamed of herself in allowing him to act in that way, and was happy that when they reentered the room, she discovered that Henry had been preparing to go and look for them.
"I believe that the time is becoming quite too late for me," he said to Melissa. "I am sure you are quite fatigued too, Mary."
"Indeed, brother. You are quite right-I should like to go now." The couple quickly made their excuses, and Tim watched as they got into their carriage and left the Park.
"Well, I never would have imagined that Mansfield Park could be so exciting!" said Melissa as they drove down the lane. She leaned her head against the cushions and sighed tiredly.
Henry smiled. "If that is excitement, then I must have lost taste for things exciting. Did I ever say that the boy was dull?-I take back my words: Bertram is anything but."
"He is most amusing," Melissa said languidly with a yawn. The night had completely fatigued her with all the dancing. She suddenly laughed. "My feet shall be purple with bruises."
"My poor sister," replied Henry with a teasing smile, "I think our friend Bertram is a good example of why dancing should be restricted for some people. How is Miss Price?" he asked, his countenance growing more serious.
Melissa's heavy eyelids opened at this; "She is better, but I think that she is troubled more by her cousin's thoughtlessness than by her faintness." She peered at Henry's face from underneath her downcast eyelashes.
He looked out the window. "I do not underrate your charms, sister, but I think that it was badly done of Edmund to treat Miss Price so ill while trying to impress you."
"And you are noble too, Henry!" exclaimed Melissa with a smile. "But you must admire Mr. Bertram's persistence."
"Frankly, no," answered Henry. "He may have tried hard to win your admiration, but I cannot respect the way he neglected his cousin."
Melissa smiled. "Do you mean to tell me that you have never neglected a woman in your career?" Henry only laughed, and the subject was not discussed any more for the rest of the way to the parsonage.
By this time at the Park, Rushworth had left and both Fanny and Yates had retired, leaving only the Bertrams alone together.
Maria, feeling a chance to relieve her frustrated emotions on seeing Henry bid Fanny good-night tenderly, began to make comments to Edmund, who himself realized how cad-like was his conduct.
"Well, Edmund, you never go into measures half-heartedly, do you? If you are Christian, you are pious; if you are quiet, you are perfectly silent; if you make a fool of yourself, you go perfectly out of your way to show what a buffoon you are. You lost no opportunity to embarrass yourself and the family tonight. I almost begin to feel sorry for the proper Miss Crawford. It must be quite awful to see a fool make a spectacle of himself on your behalf. Or perhaps I misjudge, and she was well beyond pleased that you would so debase yourself for her amusement. I hope you are happy, Edmund. I admit I was quite amused tonight, so I guess the fact that you humiliated the entire family is recompensed."
As Tim came back in, Maria began to speak to him. "Ahh! Tom! I congratulate you-it seems that Edmund has given you an advantage with that Miss Crawford. I do not have the slightest idea why you pursue her, but Edmund has decidedly ruined his own chances, unless she values buffoonery."
At this last prick, Edmund scowled at her. "Perhaps I am agreeable to her because she is an agreeable person and does not make catty comments about other people, Maria, which is something I find highly unbecoming. I am sure that Mr. Crawford would agree with me as well."
This remark also found its home, and Tim quickly spoke up before Maria opened her mouth again.
"The behavior of both of you at the moment is highly unbecoming. Edmund, I will say nothing to you at this time, considering the fact that I know you have thought better and have punished yourself well enough. Maria, I only wish to tell you that your comments are ill-considered and would beg you to keep them to yourself."
Maria laughed. "Tom? When did you become the pious parson? It seems that Crawford woman has made all of you incredibly straight-laced! I am only surprised her brother has not taken to reading sermons!"
"Perhaps when I realized that honey caught more flies than vinegar, Maria. Rushworth may put up with your tart comments, but I do not choose to tolerate them," said Tim caustically, giving Maria a look. She was certainly beautiful; that he had realized upon entering the Bertram house, but she was certainly a very spiteful Beauty.
She huffed and puffed for a moment, but suddenly blew her fury out and turned into what would be termed an "ice princess". She stood up, and elegantly swept out of the room in a haze of silk, leaving Edmund and Tim to face each other.
"Edmund, I don't want to know what or why, but I just hope you never choose to do something like that again. If I am allowed my opinion, I have to say that was embarrassing."
Edmund colored, froze, and was silent. "I do not know why I did that either, Tom, but you can trust that I will think next time."
Tim coughed uncomfortable. "Good, then. Now, I am feeling tired." The two excused themselves, and both went to bed with some heavy thoughts on their brains.
Part 16
Mr. Yates had by no means forgotten Lovers' Vows; the memories of the play stayed with him throughout the following days, and Tim, having been long tired of the not-so-subtle hints dropped from Yates' lips, was almost glad when the idea of having their own theatre became a serious consideration once more in the household.
Fanny and Edmund were less than enthusiastic at the prospect, but Maria and Julia entered into the topic happily. As soon as the Crawfords arrived at the Park, they announced the idea's revival in the greatest of spirits.
"You will never believe this, Mr. Crawford," said Julia, "but we are talking once again of the play! Now that the ball is over, we have nothing at all diverting to do, so good Mr. Yates has suggested acting, and why not? We have a play chosen; we have already discussed the construction of our little theatre: all is settled. Will you not join us, sir?"
"Certainly," smiled Henry. "I have always wanted to act, and I believe that I will never be in a house with such talented people all gathered together at once again." Yates smiled and straightened his ruffled cravat with pride at this, but it was not he that Henry was thinking of. "You, I presume, are planning to act, too?" he asked, turning to Maria.
Her eyes fluttered, and she lowered them with all the skills of London coquetry. Tim noticed how different she looked with her lovely acquired shy expression and loose blonde curls than she did with her usual cold "ice princess" countenance. "Yes, I think I shall act," Maria said demurely, "but I doubt that my talents will be anything equal to yours, Mr. Crawford."
"I know you too well to suppose that," Henry said in a low tone, with charm that worried Melissa.
Mr. Yates was already put out of patience. "Before we can act anything, we must choose parts. I believe that Lovers' Vows is the play of our choice, so now is the time to decide who plays who. The Baron and Frederick both have good ranting parts; I shall be glad with either of them."
Before Henry could answer, Maria now boldly expressed her own opinion. "As the Baron surely is taller than Frederick, I think that you should be given the role, Mr. Yates. You have already told us that you are more than familiar with the part of the Baron, and Mr. Crawford seems to me to look the most like Frederick."
Both men were pleased with this hasty resolution, but Julia grew angry. Why should Maria be so determined to have Mr. Crawford play Frederick? It did not take much thought to learn that Maria was already sure that the role of Agatha would be given to herself. Julia soon brought up the subject of how the parts for women would be divided up.
"What shall you do, Miss Crawford? My sister and I will be happy playing Amelia and Agatha (with a spiteful glance at Maria), but the only other parts for women are Cottager's Wife and Country Girl, and we could never ask you to settle for such insignificant roles as those."
"Oh, I am satisfied with whatever part is offered to me," answered Melissa congenially. Tim glanced at her with an air of puzzlement; Melissa replied with a shrug. They are all so determined that there is nothing I can do now. Even so, it's best to let things run their course; Henry will discover Maria's real character soon enough.
Suddenly, as discussions continued, Tim spoke up. "I think that Miss Crawford's talents must be wanted in Amelia, if she would accept it. It falls as naturally, as necessarily to her, as Agatha does to one or other of my sisters. It can be no sacrifice on their side, for it is highly comic."
The two Bertram girls looked at each other, and Melissa uneasily shifted in her seat. Tension gathered in their air as the two girls silently battled for control, and for the part. Melissa quickly looked over at Henry, and she saw him about to open his mouth, and she knew what he was going to say. She also knew that at this point she would rather see Maria slighted than Julia, but what to say? She gave an appealing glance to Tim, hoping that he might have something to say.
Tim looked back helplessly. He was against bringing Yates here from the beginning, knowing what would happen before it did, but he did and now he was supposed to prevent the inevitable. He looked away from Melissa, and back at Henry Crawford. Crawford's face was mostly impassive, but a small smile seemed to gather at his mouth, which made Tim's own mouth screw up slightly in disgust. He knew what this man was going to say, and he wanted nothing more than to prevent it--but how? Suddenly, he realized how to thwart his schemes, and he spoke.
"I think Julia will be the best Agatha. Though Maria fancies she prefers tragedy, I would not trust her in it. There is nothing of tragedy about her. She has not the look of it. Her features are not tragic features, and she walks too quick, and speaks too quick, and would not keep her countenance. Indeed, Maria, you must play Cottager's wife!" He ended this speech with an imploring look at her, and nearly backed up from the force of the look directed at him. Maria had sat triumphant for a while, serene in success, but with Tom's words, Mr. Yates had imposed himself into the conversation.
"Cottager's wife!" cried Mr. Yates. "What are you talking of? The most trivial, paltry, insignificant part; the merest commonplace; not a tolerable speech in the whole. Your sister do that! It is an insult to propose it. At Ecclesford the governess was to have done it. We all agreed that it could not be offered to anybody else. A little more justice, Mr. Manager, if you please. You do not deserve the office, if you cannot appreciate the talents of your company a little better."
"Why, as to that, my good friend, till I and my company have really acted there must be some guesswork; but I mean no disparagement to Maria. We cannot have two Agathas, and we must have one Cottager's wife; and I am sure I set her the example of moderation myself in being satisfied with the old Butler. If the part is trifling she will have more credit in making something of it; and if she is so desperately bent against everything humorous, let her take Cottager's speeches instead of Cottager's wife's, and so change the parts all through; he is solemn and pathetic enough, I am sure. It could make no difference in the play, and as for Cottager himself, when he has got his wife's speeches, I would undertake him with all my heart.
"In any case, Maria is not tragic enough for Agatha, and would not make even a tolerably good Amelia. She would not like it. She would not do well. She is too tall and robust. Amelia should be a small, light, girlish, skipping figure. It is fit for Miss Crawford, and Miss Crawford only. She looks the part, and I am persuaded will do it admirably." He looked over at Miss Crawford, and saw a little smile on her face; the only hint of how pleased she was with him.
"I am sure I would give up the part to Julia most willingly, but that though I shall probably do it very ill, I feel persuaded she would do it worse," said Maria angrily, with looks at both her sister and brother.
"Well, Maria, you might give it up, then! There cannot be two Agathas, and it makes no matter whether you flatter yourself you are a better actress than Julia," said Tim determinedly, with a look at Maria designed to quail her. Maria looked over at Henry, asking him to say something.
"With all your partiality for Cottager's wife," said Henry Crawford, "it will be impossible to make anything of it fit for your sister, and we must not suffer her good-nature to be imposed on. We must not allow her to accept the part. She must not be left to her own complaisance. Her talents will be wanted in Amelia. Amelia is a character more difficult to be well represented than even Agatha. I consider Amelia is the most difficult character in the whole piece. It requires great powers, great nicety, to give her playfulness and simplicity without extravagance. I have seen good actresses fail in the part. Simplicity, indeed, is beyond the reach of almost every actress by profession. It requires a delicacy of feeling which they have not. It requires a gentlewoman--a Maria Bertram. You will undertake it, I hope?" turning to her with a look of anxious entreaty, which softened her a little against the blow; but while she hesitated what to say, her brother again interposed with Miss Crawford's better claim.
"Miss Crawford must be Amelia. She will be an excellent Amelia."
Without attending to this, Henry Crawford continued his supplication. "You must oblige us," said he, "indeed you must. When you have studied the character, I am sure you will feel it suit you. Tragedy may be your choice, but it will certainly appear that comedy chooses you. You will be to visit me in prison with a basket of provisions; you will not refuse to visit me in prison?" he said, his face with a certain look that greatly softened Maria. His face seemed to say that his choice and his thoughts were greatly different than her brother's, but that he wished her to give in for the sake of argument.
"I am resolved not to make a difficulty. I shall consent to be Cottager's Wife to please all." These words won all the compliments they deserved, and Julia took Maria's place as Agatha, the deserted consort and lost love of Mr. Yates' Baron von Wildenhaim. Her happiness was supreme, and her temper grew even haughtier and more at ease.
"So that completes the roles for women; what about the men's? Mr. Crawford is to play Frederick; Mr. Yates, the Baron; Tom, the rhyming butler, but there are still other important roles. Who shall act Count Cassel and Anhalt?"
They all looked inquiringly to Mr. Yates, who raised his eyebrows in puzzlement.
"Well, I will not be able to play either," he said, "for the Baron has scenes with both of them. I would say that Anhalt is the better of the two parts. Count Cassel is so very trivial, though the role can be bettered by a capable actor. I had not so bad a time acting it at Ecclesford, for the Count does get to wear a great deal of pink, but I should say that that is the only benefit."
This prospect did not seem to make the part any more desirable, for no one offered to play it. Soon Maria, fearing that Mr. Crawford might get stuck with the degrading role, came out of her gloom and turned to Tim.
"Since you will not act it, I am sure I can get Mr. Rushworth to. He is not so fastidious over parts; he will be glad to act anything in our theatricals, though I cannot see why. I will send a servant to Sotherton tomorrow with the request, and we can all depend upon Mr. Rushworth's arriving by the evening."
But that would not do either, as Edmund, reentering from his silence, soon told them all firmly that he had no intention to let them ask for actors outside of the Park. It would be wrong to make such a display of their theatricals, and he could only fear for the worst were they to apply to outsiders to fill the part.
"But it is only Mr. Rushworth," protested Maria with scorn. "You know that he will think nothing of our play; I am perfectly acquainted with Lovers' Vows, I assure you--and with a very few omissions, and so forth, which will be made, of course, I can see nothing objectionable in it at all. What can be wrong in asking him to join us? As far as I am concerned, the only way he can bring any harm to this house will arise from his bad acting," she finished with a wicked smile.
Edmund ignored this, as well as the surprised laugh Henry uttered. "I do think it wrong," Edmund said, "and I would do anything to avoid having to bring someone else here--I would rather act, myself, than to find another to do so."
"Well," said Julia, "then you must act, for we need all the people we can get. With you and Tom (for he can surely act another part as well as the butler, which is so small a part), we will be able to fill the roles reasonably enough. You, I suppose (to Edmund), mean to play Anhalt, as you are to become a clergyman?"
Maria laughed, and spoke before Edmund could. "With Edmund's behavior recently, I do not think that he should be allowed to portray a member of the church. It would be shocking." Edmund bit his lip with anger, much to Maria's delight. "Better have Tom play Anhalt," she continued maliciously; "he has been pious enough lately."
Tim also felt the sting of the remark, but he soon brightened. "I suppose that I could play Anhalt--the part is good, and it will not be so very hard." He turned to Melissa. "That is, if you do not mind acting opposite me, Miss Crawford?"
"Indeed, no," smiled Melissa, "I shall be glad to." She was rather surprised at the unanticipated change of roles, and found more pleasure in thinking of Tim's Anhalt than even of imaging how amusing it would be to see Edmund playing the flamboyant Count.
Play books were soon found for all, and the entire group separated--supposedly, to go off and study. Somehow, Henry managed to separate his sister from the group and the two were alone to talk for a few moments as they walked the edges of the park.
"My dear Mary, I must congratulate you. Your cunning was wonderful, although a little too obvious."
"What?" said Melissa, surprised.
He looked at her with eyebrow raised. "It was quite plain, your connivance. You did not interfere in my affairs, but you urged the elder Bertram to it. Oh, it was masterfully done, but Mary, you promised not to meddle--!"
"Me? Meddle? My dear brother, it was all the sole idea of the Bertram himself! I wish I could take credit for the work, for 'twas well done on his part, but sadly not."
He shook his head with a smile. "I did not miss the looks that passed between you two, dear sister," he said in an urbane voice.
"I do not attempt to deny that I was very grateful for his own initiative, but I cannot take credit for his words. I believe he had his own reasons for what he said."
A look prompted her to say the rest. "Henry, Rushworth has £12,000 a year where your menus plaisirs are limited to £4,000--a mere pittance in comparison, you must admit. They could hardly want to let Rushworth slip between their fingers merely because he is a little lacking in sense, especially where your intentions are dubious at best."
Henry laughed. "Ah! the trials of flirtation! Every well-intentioned relative tries to put a block in your way, which only serves to make one more determined where one would become bored all too quickly. I would advise you to drop a hint in your Bertram's ear: I am sure he would take it from you." With a grin and a kiss on her cheek, he patted his hair into place and whisked himself away.
She laughed, and quickly moved herself inside, opening her book and beginning to look over the play, and her scenes with the Bertram boys. Perhaps the play would not be as disastrous as she had predicted. With Edmund's cooperation from the start, Fanny would no longer be able to look to him as a model of piety for the first week of rehearsing, and certainly his role could do nothing but lower him in the girl's eyes. Melissa smiled to herself over Edmund's readiness to accept the part. Where were his noble, unflinching morals? Whatever happened to the steadfast man; dull, but painfully good? Now when with him, Melissa could sense that he was completely human, and that while combined with such weaknesses, even Edmund Bertram's goodness could not contrive to make him deserving of his hero status.
Part 17
Melissa could not bring herself to concentrate on her part, and was glad when she saw Fanny sitting by herself in a dark corner, absorbed in a book. She lifted her head when she saw Melissa, and set the volume aside.
"Miss Crawford, how are you?"
Melissa smiled. "Wonderful, my dear, but I apologize if I interrupted your reading. Is the novel a good one?"
Fanny handed her the book with something of embarrassment. "It is not a novel; it is Lovers' Vows. I wanted to familiarize myself with the play you are all acting." She paused and glanced up at Melissa, who nodded and begged her to go on. "I do not know if I quite like it; there are some lines that seem a little harsh, though I know that cousin Maria assured us that they would be toned down."
"Perhaps it would be for the best if we allowed you to do the abridging," said Melissa in agreement; "I am sure that you would take on the task with more taste than anyone else. But I agree with you, Miss Price, for our play is a little improper in parts, and I fear that Amelia may be the worst." She sighed a little as she flipped through the pages of the book. "Amelia is so bold--much more so than what is natural. I do not know if I quite like how she declares her love to Anhalt so carelessly. How will I ever manage to say such things to your cousin? I fear I shall laugh and embarrass myself very greatly indeed."
Fanny smiled thoughtfully throughout the speech, contented that they agreed upon the subject. "As long as you go into the role with prudence," she said, "I do not see how it can be too improper. Being able to distinguish between what is real and what is acting is the most important thing, I think."
"Oh, I am well aware that it is all the product of imagination, but I shall still have to force myself to keep a calm countenance while reading the lines with Mr. Bertram. Would you be able to, Miss Price? Perhaps I can get some tips from you."
"I don't think I would find it as hard as I once would have," admitted Fanny. "I should grow uneasy doing any sort of acting, but my cousin is so kind now, so very changed. I am related to him, true, but I was not always so close to him as I am now: he used to hardly pay attention to me, but now he is so very considerate. I would not worry, Miss Crawford; he is very agreeable, and I know that he admires you too well to compare you with the character of Amelia."
Melissa laughed. "No, I am sure he would never think me that bold. I thank you, Miss Price; I shall get through it, I believe. I guess that Mr. Bertram will be easier to act with than others--suppose I had to say those lines to Mr. Edmund?"
Fanny blushed. "Yes, I think that would be difficult. However, I wish he did not have to play the Count--it is so disagreeable a part."
"Oh, but it is only acting, Miss Price," Melissa said with a gentle smile.
"I know, but I do not like to see my cousin in such a way. Count Cassel is a most wicked man! His clothes and his actions do not suit Edmund at all."
"No," agreed Melissa, "but you must remember that Mr. Edmund is the very opposite of his role." This consoled Fanny a little, but she was still not happy with the situation when Melissa parted from her.
It was not long after Melissa's departure that Fanny was obliged to put her book up again and talk with Tim.
"Has Miss Crawford been this way?" asked Tim, slightly distracted. His face was obviously heavy with the weight of the thoughts occupying his mind.
"Yes, she happened to pass this way, and we briefly talked about the theatricals."
"Is she quite against them?" asked Tim, his attention fully on the conversation now, his youthful brow slightly creased.
"I believe she disapproves of parts of the play, but I do not think she is against acting in general. She seemed a bit uncomfortable at the prospect of acting certain parts, but nothing excessive."
Tim nodded. "And what about you, Fanny?"
"There are parts of the dialogue that seem a bit . . . warm, and not at all what I think ladies should act."
Tim nodded again, with a smile. "I believe you are right, Fanny. But, this is what my sisters choose to act, and I admit I should rather be there. I hope that nothing disagreeable should happen."
Fanny nodded, and Tim sat down next to her. "What say you, Fanny? I have wondered your opinion on everything--what say you of the Crawfords? of Yates? of everything?"
She smiled slightly. "Well, I do not know what to say, exactly. I don't know what you wish me to say."
"I wish you to say what you think," said Tim, his light eyes full of entreaty. "I want to hear your opinion on it all--as modest as you are, you must admit that your judgement is usually the right one. What do you think of, for instance, the Crawfords?"
Fanny shifted a little uneasily in her chair. Tim smiled to calm her, making the corners of the girl's mouth turn up as if she was amused with herself.
"They are very pleasant people--very agreeable and kind to me," she said, slowly but honestly.
"Miss Crawford has been a friend to you, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes, I would say that she is my friend. She often talks to me."
Tim's eyes brightened. "Does she? And what does Miss Crawford say to you?"
"General things, but she is always kind--it is easy to talk with her. She seems to have a very good nature."
Tim agreed with a nod. He was about to ask more questions when it suddenly struck him that he was being very Edmund Bertram-ish in character. He knew that this situation was different; as much as Fanny enjoyed his company, Tim knew that she was by no means in love with him, but he still felt boorish and weak by asking her questions about another lady. And why was he so solicitous in his inquiries? It was only Melissa; he knew Melissa.
He decided to change the topic by asking Fanny what she thought of the other Crawford. Fanny hesitated at first, then said that Mr. Crawford was agreeable like his sister.
"Do you think him handsome?" Tim asked, turning his face to lessen some of the pressure of the question for Fanny.
"Not handsome," she admitted, "but he is charming in his own way." Instead of embarrassment, her eyes gained some of the look she had acquired while being fanned by Henry at the ball. Tim noticed this with gladness.
"I'm sorry," he said with a smile; "I will leave you to your book now." He walked off to his bedroom, and when alone, he let a large grin come over his face as he laughed to himself, though he did not know why. Thoughts kept him awake for a few hours, but he finally turned over and fell asleep.
Melissa's evening was singularly uneventful. The Crawfords left Mansfield relatively early, and conversation was limited, so she went to bed early and woke hoping for a better today than yesterday.
She went down to breakfast after dressing herself in a fetching emerald green gown and found Mrs. Grant in a sociable mood.
"My dear, wasn't the dancing the other night delightful?"
"Oh! yes, 'twas lovely."
"Mr. Bertram is certainly a very good dancer. Not as ostentatious as some," she said, carefully looking away, "but very elegant and gentleman-like."
Melissa smiled. "And certainly he was much more able than many other dancers to keep from stepping upon his partner's toes." She then looked at Mrs. Grant with a larger grin. "Mr. Bertram also seemed to think you quite praiseworthy also. He said that out of everyone, only Fanny, you, and myself were girls he would consider standing up with."
Mrs. Grant smiled with a little blush. "Oh! Did Mr. Bertram say that--? Well, I have always enjoyed dancing and was accounted very light on my feet, but now--" Her smile and blush grew, and Melissa inwardly laughed as she remembered talking with Tim about how Mrs. Grant needed a lover as much as any of the young girls at the late party.
"What about me? I know that I do not have the ego that I supposedly have, but I must flatter myself that at least I am a tolerably good dancer, especially as it is one of the trades of the rogue."
"But Henry, you are not a rogue . . . are you?" asked Mrs. Grant, only a little shocked now.
Melissa laughed. "You guessed it, my dear sister! Well, Henry, I agree--you are a tolerable dancer, certainly!"
He smiled. "Thank you, sister! A compliment from you means quite a lot, I know!"
Soon they left to Mansfield, and discovered the Bertram girls in the hall waiting for them. Maria, though not anticipating much as far as the play was concerned, still smiled when she saw Henry, and caught a glimpse of her hair in the mirror to make any finishing touches before she walked up to Henry. Julia was not so happy, as it was obvious to her that it was her older sister who caught Mr. Crawford's eye.
However, Henry was good enough to smile and bow to both girls. "And how are the lovely Miss Bertrams?" he asked as he offered them both an arm to lead them into the drawing room. "I know that I have been thinking about coming here since I awoke; indeed, I think that Mansfield and its treasures occupied my dreams as I slept."
From behind the three, Melissa laughed. Henry turned around and slyly smiled at her before looking back at the two girls' blushed faces.
"That is kind of you, Mr. Crawford," Maria murmured. "But I am sure that it was the play that gave you such pleasant thoughts. Certainly your situation and who you get to act with must appear very agreeable to you."
"Oh, no, you mistake me, Miss Bertram. I do look forward to acting with those near me, but I shall especially enjoy every one's acting. Perhaps watching talented and experienced actors rehearse will be the greatest felicity."
A pleased smile spread across Maria's face, somewhat to Melissa's annoyance. "You will enjoy my acting, brother?" she asked with a laugh. "How kind of you!"
Henry also grinned. "Indeed, Mary, you are very talented also. I have enjoyed your acting ever since we were children, when you would get me into trouble whenever you could with your spiteful lies."
Melissa laughed. "Henry! would I ever do such a thing? Now you must admit that it was usually your naughtiness that caused the trouble for you." She turned to Maria. "Anybody could guess what an ill-natured boy he used to be! Do you imagine that he could be naughty when he was younger, Miss Bertram?"
Maria had been smoothing out the lace around the sleeves of her dress during the conversation, and showed no real interest in it. "I find it hard to believe that such a gentleman could ever have been ill-behaved," she said with a delicate smile and a tilt of the head.
"Thank you, Miss Bertram," Henry said with a bow of his own head. "We must not listen to my sister; she uses her cleverness to such bad effect!"
Melissa only smiled in return as they walked into the room and she caught sight of Tim.
"Mr. Bertram! And how are you today?"
"Well, Maria has been in a good mood, which improves everything," he said with a small smile.
"I can imagine," said Melissa with a returning grin. "So, Anhalt, have you ever read Lovers' Vows?"
"Not until last night . . ." he said with a significant cough.
"It really is quite horrid drivel, is it not?"
He laughed openly at that. "My sentiments exactly. Really, I must say now having read it, Tom was right to want the Butler. He is one of the high points in the story!"
Melissa nodded. "I believe that the comedic roles really are the better ones on the stage, and at that, the male roles. I always envied Benedick and Orsino many of their speeches, and it cannot be denied but that Mercutio is the most delightful part of Romeo and Juliet."
Tim nodded. "True, but you cannot forget some things. In Macbeth, Lady Macbeth has some great speeches, and that is also a tragedy. Hamlet and, as you yourself mentioned, Romeo and Juliet can neither be lightly dismissed."
She raised an eyebrow. "Certainly Romeo and Juliet can be dismissed! A tolerable play at best; Romeo hardly worth the effort. I believe that when acted well it can be moving, but as characters Romeo and Juliet are both rather ridiculous people."
"I would never undertake to debate you upon that point, as I myself favor comedy, but tragedy can be delightful. Sadly, it is also a fact that women have not the speeches that men have, as most playwrights were male and took them all for themselves."
She laughed. "Nor would I debate you upon that point! However," she continued, "we have gotten ourselves off the topic. What think you of Edmund as Count Cassel?"
"I think it will be highly amusing," was the reply.
"In his blue dress, and his pink satin cloak . . . 'I don't know how he shall like it!'"
"Nor I--" Tim began to snicker, but primly smiled as he repressed his laughter at the wonderful imitation. "I should think it more in Yates' line, but then, the Count does not rant."
Melissa grinned. "You know, excluding the Frederick scenes, it will be quite a hilarious production."
"Indeed . . . including our Anhalt-Amelia scenes as well . . ."
Melissa nodded at this, moderately confused by the tone of his voice and his words. She did not have much time to think and brood over it, however, as their eyes were drawn to the doorway by a flash of bold red.
"Ah! everyone is here!" Mr. Yates cried as he curled the hair on the top of his head around his finger. "Then we can begin."