Brandon's Absence
Marianne sat on the same divan that she spent so many of her afternoons. She rarely left the house and so her sister had taken to visiting each day to look in and make sure she was well.
"Marianne," Eleanor said as she sat across from her in an armchair. "Do let's go outside, Dearest. You are looking so pale."
"I do not wish to go out. I do not feel in rights today," Marianne replied, her voice flat.
The worried lines around Eleanor's eyes deepened and she tightened her grip on her handkerchief.
"How is Edward?" Marianne asked, looking out the window with no real interest.
"He is well, thank you. He wished to come today but he is very busy with the parish."
"Better to be busy than not, I suppose."
"Yes."
The two sisters sat in silence. One seeming to forget that the other was there.
"Ma'am," Katie, the maid, said, as she knocked on the parlor door.
Marianne did not notice her, nor did she hear the maid when she spoke a second time; continuing instead to stare blankly outside.
"Marianne, Katie is speaking to you," Eleanor said, after a long moment. Her voice had an undertone of alarm.
"What?"Marianne asked finally looking into the room, her eyes wide as if she were surprised to find anyone in the room with her.
"Ma'am," Katie said again, curtsying a little. "There's a letter here for you."
Both sisters brightened letters meant hope and hope was all either was living on in that moment.
"Oh, thank you, Katie!" Eleanor said, taking the letter and handing it to Marianne.
Marianne read the letter and it was as follows:
Dear Madame,
It is with a heavy heart that I write these words. Your husband, Colonel Christopher James Brandon, has gone missing in action. We do not, as of yet, know of his fate. May the Lord be with you. Brandon once made me privy to the information, that your health was not as it should be. He worries over you often. You will be informed as soon as any news is acquired.
With great sincerity, Colonel Benjamin Simon."
Marianne's eyes welled with tears and she threw the letter to the floor. Eleanor reached her just before her legs gave way. They lowered slowly to the floor, arm in arm.
"Dearest, what is it?" Eleanor asked, her voice as thin as paper.
"Brandon," Marianne whispered, then she buried her face in her sister's bosom and wept.
They had bound his hands and so Brandon composed letters in his mind; letters to the only person that was ever in his thoughts. He had lived each moment not in fear of his own life but in fear of hers. Surely they had told her by now that he was missing and her anguish would be great.
Could her frail health take such a blow? Brandon's fists pulled at the ropes, tightening them deeper into his skin.
"Marianne," the Colonel whispered to the wind. "Do not be afraid, I shall not break my promise."