Chapter 4. Bereaved
Dr. Patrick Talmen was an elderly serious man. He spoke in short, sharp phrases and indeed was strictly honest. After he asked Marianne a few questions and had a look at her, he gave everyone a small smile:
"Nothing to worry about, ma'am. Everything is going on as it should, despite the stress. Bettina, please get me a piece of paper, and I will write some instructions. In the meantime, ma'am, save yourself from distress and trouble. I wouldn't recommend you to move anywhere."
"But as soon as my family returns from Japan, I was planning to return to them!" Marianne exclaimed. "Edward has a very cozy vicarage in… in Delaford, and I will be as fine in there as I'm here. I don't want to trouble the hosts too much."
"Well…" the doctor hesitated. "Of course, the feeling of home does matter too… Yet… All right, ma'am, you will consult me before moving away. Delaford is quite a distance."
"I will consult you," Marianne agreed.
From then on, she stayed in Birch Grove, with the Fitzwilliams. She was very contented living there. Although the atmosphere of quiet family happiness still made her envious, the hosts and the servants were all kindness to her and she became very friendly with them, especially with Lady Anne. It turned out that Anne, who looked so reserved and exhausted, was a romantic at heart just like Marianne.
"Oh, I love romantic poems and novels so much," she admitted one day. "Mama thought it was so stupid of me. She said romance is for foolish girls. But I still read all that."
Marianne sighed:
"Now I sometimes stop believing all these romantic stories I know."
"Continue believing!" Anne cried. "Don't be disappointed once and for the whole life!"
"I remember my sister Elinor telling me that I'll be often disappointed… She encouraged me to read more serious things. I did, but romances remain my favorite ones."
"I can't read serious books at all," the lady said ashamedly. "I feel very stupid because of it sometimes. Elizabeth – Cousin William's wife – is all for serious things. She's incredibly clever. I think you'd like to meet her some day."
"You flatter me, Lady Fitzwilliam," Marianne replied with sadness. "I'm not incredibly clever, to say the least."
"Don't be disappointed once and forever," Lady Anne smiled. "Your life will change for the better."
But it seemed it had been said a bit too soon. A week after Marianne came to the Fitzwilliams' place, Lady Catherine called on them again. She told them that the scandal centered around Miss Jemima Grey was over, at least for the large society: John Willoughby was killed by the Hon. Hubert Grey in an honest duel.
Luckily, when Marianne heard the news, Bettina was by her side. The shocked young woman cried out and fainted, and the maid immediately rushed for the medicines, a glass of cold water, and everything necessary.
Marianne could hardly bear it. The fond memories of her courtship, engagement and early marriage days haunted her again, and the shadow of her lively, passionate, and, as she had been sure back then, adoring husband came to her every night. Dr. Talmen and Father Abner, the priest from the nearby village, talked with her almost every day, and still it was very hard.
Of course, as to her reputation, it was no longer in jeopardy. She was just a widow with child – a woman with a tragedy in her life, yet nothing out of ordinary. But her soul was in a turmoil.
After many changed decisions, she attended Willoughby's funeral several days later. It was short and humble – as it would be of a man who almost dishonored a knight's granddaughter and did many other horrible things. Marianne and a young Lord Timothy Allan, the last surviving relation of the deceased, were the only people present.
No epitaph, no kind words – there was just a simple gravestone "Here lies Mr. John Willoughby, son of Mr. Nicholas Willoughby and the Hon. Griselda Allan, husband to Miss Marianne Dashwood. Died in 18— on June the 7th, being twenty-five years of age." Marianne laid two red carnations and her engagement ring on the grave, and Lord Allan brought a small wreath.
"Goodbye, John," Marianne whispered, softly caressing the stone. "I'm so sorry it turned out so. But I leave my marriage and my love by your grave's side."
Tears streamed down her cheeks. The memories flashed before her eyes, and she wept – not for her love and happiness, but for the memory of it.
Lord Allan, the true gentleman, said some words of condolence and walked her back to the carriages. Marianne heard people who came out of the church whispering sympathetically:
"Poor thing. She had buried her husband, and she's in a condition."
"What a tragedy! To be widowed at such a tender age!"
At least they didn't bring up the subject of Willoughby himself. Marianne wouldn't have borne it.
"Despite the tragic circumstance, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Willoughby," Lord Allan said to her. "If you want, come to my estate and have some tea with me and Miss Blaidy – a very genteel girl – the daughter of Baronet Blaidy."
The gleam in Lord Allan's eyes was such that Marianne caught the hint and smiled faintly:
"In other words, I'm invited to be a chaperone for you and that girl?"
Lord Allan flushed red. He wasn't used to such forwardness in public.
"I'm terribly sorry, but I don't feel well," Marianne said. "I wish you the best of happiness, sir – but I would better go to Birch Grove."
She felt dreadful indeed. The mixed emotions in her heart were such that she only wanted to lay down and sleep. Of course, the Fitzwilliams will comfort her – but they weren't Elinor and Mother – they didn't fully understand.
Marianne was even glad to find out upon her arrival that the hosts were away. Bettina was out too, so another maid, without speaking much, gave her tea and prepared her bed.
Since then, Marianne's condition worsened. She became worried and unstable, she often had attacks of violent, feverish paranoia. The envy of the Fitzwilliams' happiness many times burst in her soul suddenly, upon seeing some small detail of their life – Anne reading to her husband, Colonel Fitzwilliam enquiring about Anne's headache, the two of them sitting close on the sofa by the fireplace…
It became ten times worse when the cousin of the hosts, Fitzwilliam Darcy, came for a visit with his wife Elizabeth, their two children Charles and Margaret, and Elizabeth's sister Kitty Bennet. Marianne felt very out of place. The Fitzwilliams and the Darcys were talking, laughing, and she was lonely. The Darcys didn't even know about her drama: she was introduced to them as Mrs. Marianne Whyte, a newly widowed friend of Anne's.
In the following months, the Darcys visited Birch Grove very frequently. When they came, Marianne locked herself in her guest room and tried to read or sleep to get over the gloomy feeling of being the odd one. She only hoped that her letter would reach her family soon. Japan was so awfully far!