Colonel Brandon's Diary (27 page)

‘No thanks are needed,’ I assured her.

‘But I wish to thank you anyway,’ she said warmly, and with more animation. ‘I have been very much deceived in one friend this year, but I have been humbled by the devotion of another.’

Devotion. Yes, she had chosen her word well, for I was devoted to her.

‘Anything I can do for you, you have only to name it,’ I said.

She gave a weak smile.

‘There is nothing more I need, only to be here, with my friends.’

‘And to get strong,’ put in her mother.

‘Yes, indeed, to get strong.’

She sank back, and I stood up, for I did not want to tire her. I left the room, and as I went downstairs, I did not recognize myself in the mirror, for I looked so different. I wondered what the difference was, and then I saw that I was smiling.

‘Mrs Jennings, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for all you have done for my daughter,’ said Mrs Dashwood at breakfast this morning. ‘To stay with her and care for her, when your own daughter has just had a child, was friendship indeed.’

‘I couldn’t do any less, not when she was my guest,’ said Mrs Jennings good-naturedly. ‘I’m just glad it all turned out so well.’

‘Marianne is so much recovered that I think it is safe to move her, so we must trespass on your hospitality no longer. ’

‘My dear Mrs Dashwood, it is no trespass, I do assure you. You must stay here as long as you like,’ she said.

‘That is very kind of you, but I think it is time for us to go home.’

‘You must accept the use of my carriage,’ I said. ‘It will make Miss Marianne more comfortable on the way.’

‘Colonel, you have done so much for me and my family, you have earned the right to call my daughters Elinor and Marianne.’

I thanked her.

‘I accept your offer of the carriage. You must reclaim it by visiting us in a few weeks’ time, when Marianne has fully recovered. ’

I was delighted to accept the invitation.

The morning was all bustle as preparations were made for the Dashwoods’ removal. Maids ran to and fro with rugs and stone hot-water bottles for Marianne, to keep her warm on the journey; footmen carried boxes and bags downstairs, and coach-men loaded them on to the carriage.

When all was ready, they took their leave, with Marianne taking a particularly long and affectionate leave of Mrs Jennings, for I believe she felt she had neglected her hostess’s kindness in the past, and then I handed her into the carriage.

‘Thank you for all you have done for me,’ she said to me in heartfelt tones.

I pressed her hand, and then said, ‘Have you everything you need?’

‘Yes, thank you, everything.’

Her mother and sister joined her in the carriage, and then it pulled away.

I left soon afterwards, having thanked Mrs Jennings for her hospitality, and returned to Delaford.

 

 

The weather was wet, but I scarcely had time to notice it as I went over the accounts and paid attention to business which I have been lately neglecting. I was glad to be busy, and I talked over the planting of new timber with Havers, as well as the building of a new wall at the bottom of the long field and the extension of the home farm.

 

 

I spent the morning on estate business, and this afternoon I went to the stables to see Cinnamon. She was looking sleek and healthy.

From there, I walked over to the cottage to see Eliza. I found her playing with the baby in the mild spring sunshine. She sprang up, delighted to see me, and came towards me dandling Elizabeth in her arms.

‘She looks just like you,’ I said, as I took the baby. ‘She has your eyes and your smile.’

She chucked her daughter under the chin, and we talked of the baby until she began to cry. I handed her back to Eliza and then went on to the parsonage. I looked around it, inside and out, and made a note of the repairs that needed carrying out, and then returned to the mansion house, where I pored over the accounts until bedtime.

 

 

I took Tom Carpenter over to the parsonage today and I pointed out everything that I wanted him to attend to. He told me that he could have the work finished in a month.

‘But the roof needs fixing,’ he said, as he felt the wall. He took his hand away and it was damp. ‘I’ll send Will over to look at it this afternoon.’

From the parsonage I returned to the mansion house. I passed Robert Lambton on the way, and I stopped to talk to him, for he had been on his way to see me. He wanted to take over the derelict barn at Four Lanes End, and I was pleased to learn that his farm was prospering enough for him to need it.

‘Ay, I am doing very well,’ he said.

As he spoke, his eyes strayed over my shoulder, and, turning my head, I saw what had caught his eye. It was Eliza, who was in the garden of her cottage again, playing with the baby. I had forgotten how beautiful she was, for I had grown accustomed to her face, but Robert had not forgotten, and as he watched her, it was clear he was attracted to her. He knew her history, for in such a small village nothing could be kept secret, but still he watched her, and I found myself thinking that if a good man such as Robert Lambton should fall in love with her, then what a happy outcome of all the past year’s trials it would be.

 

 

I walked down to the parsonage this morning, and I saw that the works were proceeding as quickly as could be expected. Then I went to see Eliza. Knowing that Robert would be at Four Lanes End, I suggested a walk and I bent our steps in that direction. Sure enough, there he was, overseeing the work on the barn.

I introduced him to Eliza and he greeted her with respect. After some minutes talking to him about the barn, we went on our way, and his eyes followed us.

I returned to the mansion house at last and ate my dinner in solitary splendour.

I miss Marianne.

 

 

The wet weather reminded me that the path by the river needed raising so that it will not flood next year, and I gave instructions for the matter to be attended to.

 

 

I received a letter from Mrs Dashwood this morning. Marianne is growing in strength daily and is now well enough to be allowed outside when the weather is fine. She ended her letter by inviting me to stay, and I wrote back at once to accept.

 

 

I dressed slowly this morning, for I was apprehensive about going to Barton, and as I travelled to Devonshire, I wondered if Marianne would ever see me as a husband, or if she would never see me as anything more than a friend.

I reached Barton in good time, and I knocked on the door and was shown in. Marianne was sitting by the window, and I was heartened to see how well she looked. She had lost her pallor and her skin was as brown as it was when first I saw her last year. Her figure, which had been gaunt after her illness, had regained its fullness, and she was blooming.

She sprang to her feet when she saw me and came forward to welcome me with a smile.

‘We did not look for you so soon. You are very welcome.’

Then Mrs Dashwood came forward and welcomed me.

‘We have missed you. We have
all
missed you, have we not, Marianne?’ she said.

‘Yes, indeed, Mama,’ said Marianne, looking at me warmly. ‘We always miss our friends. Do sit down, Colonel. How was your journey?’

‘It was excellent, thank you,’ I said, looking at her all the while.

‘This is a day for visitors,’ said Mrs Dashwood, as tea was brought in, ‘for we have another guest.’

‘Oh?’ I asked, wondering who it could be.

‘Yes. It is someone you will like to see, for it is Edward Ferrars,’ said Marianne. ‘He is presently out walking with Elinor.’

‘We have a great deal to tell you, have we not, Marianne?’ said Mrs Dashwood.

‘We have,’ said Marianne.

‘You see, Colonel, Mr Edward Ferrars is soon to be my son-in-law. He and Elinor are engaged.’

‘But I thought he was engaged to Miss Lucy?’ I asked in surprise.

‘And so he was. But the engagement was not to his liking. He had entered into it as a very young man when he was far from home, and when he later realized that she did not have the qualities he needed in a wife, it was too late; they were already engaged. To make matters worse, Edward then met Elinor and discovered that she was exactly the sort of superior young woman he ought to be marrying.’

‘And I gave him the living of Delaford, thinking I was helping him,’ I said, with a shake of my head.

‘It was very kind of you. You were a true friend to him,’ said Marianne. ‘You were not to know that he did not look forward to the marriage.’

‘He thought the case was hopeless, for he would not go back on his word to Lucy. But then the engagement became known and he was cast off by his mother, who made the estate over to his brother, Robert,’ said Mrs Dashwood.

‘At which Lucy, although protesting that she did not mind being poor, went to see Robert, pretending that she needed his advice,’ said Marianne. ‘Lucy is very pretty, and Robert is very stupid, so that it did not take her long to win his affections, and she married him quickly, before he could change his mind. Leaving Edward free.’

‘Free to marry Elinor,’ I said. A smile spread across my face. ‘But this is wonderful news.’

I saw Marianne looking at me, startled.

‘It
is
wonderful news?’ I asked, wondering if there was any part of the story I did not yet know.

‘Oh, yes, quite wonderful,’ said Marianne. ‘It was not your comment that startled me, it was your smile.’

‘Marianne!’ said her mother.

‘I have never seen the Colonel smile before,’ she said, unabashed, as she continued to watch my face, and I was pleased to see that, although her recent experiences had tempered her outspokenness, they had not rid her of it altogether. ‘You look different when you smile.’

‘Then we must make sure the Colonel has plenty to smile about in the coming months,’ said Mrs Dashwood, with a kind look towards me.

At that moment Ferrars and Elinor returned from their walk, and I sprang to my feet.

‘You see,’ said Margaret, who followed them into the room, fresh from playing in the garden. ‘I told you that Elinor’s beau’s name began with an F!’

We all laughed.

‘Allow me to congratulate you,’ I said. ‘Elinor, I am more pleased than I can say.’ I turned to Ferrars and shook him by the hand. ‘You are a lucky man.’

‘I know,’ he said with a smile. ‘I must thank you again, properly this time, for the living. It was a very great kindness to give it to me when I had no claim on it, save that of mutual friends. When you first made the gift, I am afraid I was ungrateful, for I feared that it would hasten a marriage that was distasteful to me, and yet which seemed unavoidable. Yet now I can thank you from the bottom of my heart.’

‘And I must thank you, too,’ said Elinor. ‘You have been a true friend to all my family.’

‘I only wish I could do more.’

‘As to that, I hope that I might now be able to help myself,’ said Ferrars. ‘I aim to go to town in a few days’ time and see if it is possible to be reconciled with my mother. Now that Robert has married to displease her, she may look kindly on me once more.’

We were interrupted at that point by Sir John, who had brought the mail. He was surprised to see me but made me welcome, and invited me to stay at the Park, an offer I accepted as Mrs Dashwood’s house was full.

He was soon apprised of Elinor’s betrothal, and he offered his heartiest congratulations. Then, after sitting with us for a time, he went to give his wife the news.

‘Is there anything from Mrs Jennings?’ asked Mrs Dashwood as Elinor sorted through the letters. ‘I can never thank her enough for looking after Marianne, and she promised to write to me and let me know how Charlotte and the baby are getting on.’

‘Yes,’ said Elinor.

‘Read it to me, would you, Elinor dear?’ she said.

Elinor began to read, and the letter, which a few days before would, I am sure, have caused pain, caused only mirth.

‘I think I will leave the task of comforting him to my sister! ’ said Marianne.

‘And here is another letter,’ said Elinor. ‘It is from John.’

‘Ah! Let us hear what your brother has to say,’ said Mrs Dashwood.

The letter began with salutations, but soon began to talk of Robert Ferrars’s marriage.

At this, we all laughed again.