Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 10
Later that night in her bed, Marianne could not sleep. She was feeling giddy and bouncy and all the things that were the opposite of quiet slumber. Her head was filled with images of Brandon earlier this afternoon; her heart was filled with excitement she had not known before. How was a girl to sleep after all that had happened today? She thought back to when they had gone back into the house from the garden. She had just about latched herself onto Brandon's arm, not willing to let go now that she was finally there. People inside the house had paid little attention to Elinor and Edward returning indoors arm in arm, and even less to her mother and Margaret. Marianne expected a few curious looks to come their way as they entered, but she had not expected everyone to stare at them so blatantly. It was all very war and she felt their friends were happy to see them walk in arm in arm: it was just so open she was just struck dumb.
Brandon had maintained his composure much better. When Marianne had turned to look at him she could see a gentle bush creeping up his neck under the collar, but otherwise the man was a rock. Marianne's own cheeks had probably been like a pair of beetroot! Her mother had been smiling unashamedly for the rest of the evening and kept giving these looks, these almost embarrassingly loving and happy looks at both the Colonel and Marianne.
At dinner Marianne had sat next to the Colonel and although technically not much had changed, the way she felt about everything had changed entirely. They were not engaged (yet), and had not made any formal announcements. They had simply walked into the house together. Yet Marianne's world was completely upside down. She felt the energy of the man next to her differently from before and every time their eyes met there was such a strong sense of belonging Marianne physically felt out of breath. It was incredible how in just a few moments, through a few sentences they had exchanged openly with each other, they formed an alliance. One look here and there and she felt very strongly how now she and Colonel Brandon had immediately formed a "we".
While Marianne was wide awake in her bed, a lone figure was making his way home slowly in the light of the full moon. Brandon had surprised himself. He had been adamant about keeping distance for some time longer to see how the young lady's affections turned out, but the moment his chance as the suitor was under threat (imaginary threat, as it turned out, but still), his blood boiled and he had to make a stand. So that's how strong his feelings had been all along? His heart knew what his head had not caught onto yet, that he would not be able to bear it if he lost the girl without at least trying.
Another thing he had realized on his ride back to Delaford was also a revelation to him. If he had thought his heart was ready to burst with love before, after this afternoon he felt it in his entire being. His very soul was filled with a joy he could not explain or even begin to understand. He was done for, but this time he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling: Marianne returned his feelings and perhaps this time he would not get left outside. Tomorrow he would make this same ride back to Barton Cottage where he had escorted the Dashwoods after dinner, and although in many ways his visit would be so similar to all his other visits before, it would also be very different. And he could not wait for tomorrow.
The sleepless night had not left a lasting effect on neither Marianne nor the Colonel. They lived on sustenance more nourishing than sleep or food. All Marianne was capable of thinking about was the Colonel and when she might see him again. His thoughts did not differ much, except for the horrors he encountered in the middle of the night when he suddenly realized he had what one was supposed to do to court a lady.
The Colonel felt fine about visiting and having walks and conversation, about reading and talking about what they had read – the things they had done earlier. Now it was a completely different. Or was it? He had very little choice in where to get help, as infuriating as it was to him: Sir John. Brandon had first thought of riding to the Ferrars, but then he remembered how young Edward had been before he was free to talk to Elinor. No, he would need to talk to Sir John. Then, maybe, a chat with Elinor if there was a chance of a private word.
At Barton Sir John greeted his friend with a lot of noise.
"Brandon, my dear friend, what brings you back so soon? Not that I mind at all, I simply expected your tracks might take you to the cottage first," he laughed.
"Yes, well…" Brandon muttered in reply, trying to see who else was within earshot. Sir John did not miss anything.
"If you're wondering where everyone else is, no need to worry, they're in the garden enjoying games and lemonade. What worries you so much, Brandon?"
Brandon sighed. Nothing to it but to fess up on his fecklessness. It hadn't been that bad, though. Sir John had not made fun of him but given him genuine encouragement: no need to invent a different approach to how he should spend time with Miss Marianne, just make her see that she really was at the centre of his attention and interest. Have her (and the family) around at Delaford, maybe teach her and young Margaret to ride? And when the ball season game, perhaps the young lady would like to go out once or twice and, judging by her return of affection, she might like to be seen with him as well.
On his way out from Barton Brandon noticed a particularly handsome rosebush an out came the pocket knife. At Barton Cottage, Margaret was out doing her adventures in the garden when he arrived. The welcome he received from the girl was loud and enthusiastic – was he really such a longed after visitor to this house? Margaret ran into the house ahead of him to alert Mrs Dashwood and Marianne. It only took a thought of seeing Marianne now to make Brandon's insides do a somersault. He knew that the hand that was hiding the rose behind his back was trembling ever so slightly.
"Colonel!" Marianne greeted him. Her face was beaming with joy and her smile was as wide as he had ever seen, especially lately. Her entire being was out to convince him that the night had made no change in their disposition: she really did seem as pleased to see him as he was to see her.
"Miss Marianne, Mrs Dashwood," he greeted the ladies almost formally, giving them each a polite nod. He then presented Marianne with the rose. A slight blush tinted her cheeks.
"Oh, Colonel, thank you. It is lovely!"
Mrs Dashwood had said nothing, merely greeted the man with a polite bow of her own, not hiding her smile or her joy in having him there. Looking at her daughter and the fine but clearly a little awkward man Mrs Dashwood decided she actually had very little input in the entire discourse and should find a way of letting Marianne and the Colonel re-acquaint themselves a little. They had been so natural together earlier on when he used to come and see them regularly, but now she could see how differently the pair was looking at each other. She had seen it in Edward and Elinor after Edward's proposal and she remembered the feeling well form when Mr Dashwood had proposed to her all that time ago. Oh, Mr Dashwood would have approved both of Edward and the Colonel so much!
"Would you care for a cup of tea in the garden, Colonel?" Mrs Dashwood managed to think as her alibi for leaving the scene. Brandon practically tore his eyes off Marianne to respond:
"Thank you, yes, that would be very nice."
"Marianne, why don't you take the Colonel through and I'll ask for the tea," Mrs Dashwood suggested and quickly disappeared back into the cottage, tugging Margaret along with her.
"I hope you are well?" Marianne started, wanting to kick herself for such an idiotic conversation starter. What, really, had changed so much since before that she was no longer able to talk to Colonel Brandon like the friends they were? He gave her a tentative smile. Was he not faring any better?
"Thank you, yes. And I hope you are as well?" he responded. Marianne nodded with a smile and decided walking around he cottage to the garden might ease the situation somewhat.
"Thank you for the rose, it's beautiful," she then said as they slowly made their way around the corner. Brandon had a feeling Mrs Dashwood had made a disappearance act on them on purpose and he wanted to prolong this opportunity to have Marianne to himself.
"I… I must apologize ahead of time, Miss Marianne…" Brandon muttered. Marianne stopped and turned to look at the man who seemed very ill at ease all of a sudden.
"What ever for?"
"Yesterday we…" he started and Marianne suddenly felt all blood drain from her face. Had he changed his mind?
"Please, don't look so horrified, this is not terribly easy to confess…" he continued, but his awkwardness did little to erase Marianne's fears. Tears were dangerously close to emerging in her eyes.
"Do you not wish to…" she started, barely able to bring the words out. Brandon suddenly realized the misunderstanding his inaptness at expressing himself was bringing about.
"Oh no, please, Miss Marianne, do not think I am going back on what I asked yesterday. More than anything I wish to keep seeing you and to spend time with you and you must never doubt that."
"Then what is wrong?" Marianne asked, regaining her breath again.
"I asked to court you properly, and now that I find that you do not find that an unwelcome prospect, I – well – I suddenly realize I don't quite know what I should do."
Brandon had thought something in him would burst if they did not find a way of easing the tension that had built up. Albeit tension of the sweetest kind, it was making him feeling even moronic than he did at best of times. He had to confess to Marianne what he had confessed to Sir John earlier. Sir John had even suggested that Marianne already knew him enough not to think that such a bachelor of long standing and reserved disposition would suddenly turn into a poetry-spouting romancer. Marianne smiled at him gently.
"How about we start with tea in the garden?" Marianne suggested tentatively. She also had no idea what to expect. What did it mean when you were being courted? Brandon smiled now, too, more at ease with himself and the situation.
"Yes, that sounds good."
In the garden they sat down where they so often had sat before, reading. Conversation was coming to them easier now, and little by little their old confidence in each other's company was returning. Except their confidence in each other's company now included a generous degree more of deeply staring into each other's eyes and letting hands rest on the bench so that a finger could feather a touch on a palm or the side of a hand.
"I must confess, Colonel, that although we have known each other for quite some time by now and also agreed ages ago that we are friends," Marianne then started before tea would come. She may not get another chance today. Brandon looked at her quizzically.
"The way I feel in your company now, after our talk yesterday, is very different from before." Marianne finished her confession and was relieved to see the Colonel let out a relieved chuckle.
"Then I'm not the only one," he stated. The smiles they exchanged said more than words could and in an instant they felt like they had done in the Garden at Barton last night: they could be open and honest and there was no need to make appearances to each other. It would be alright. Brandon knew he would not have to jump through hoops or perform to any expectations with Marianne. She knew whom he was and that how he felt about her was sincere. And Marianne, equally, knew in this moment that Colonel Brandon would never tread harshly on her feelings, would never take advantage of her weaknesses and would always let her be just the person she was.
It was good they had time for this exchange before Mrs Dashwood finally joined them in the garden, announcing that tea would be arriving shortly.