The following morning found Fanny in front of her mirror, taking more care than usual in her appearance. She selected a cream colored gown Henry had purchased her at the beginning of their marriage, what felt like years ago, or just yesterday. It was not as elaborate as fashion dictated, but he had understood her preference for more simplicity. It was beautiful just the same, and it reminded her of summer time desserts and warmth.

Alice had arranged her hair carefully, understanding her mistress's sudden focus. She took care to have it appear as any other day, but slightly better, so only the important person noticed.

Alice's efforts were, although not in vain, not necessary. Fanny's face was radiant on this day. Her eyes danced with the light from the windows. Her mind, although careful, was permitting new thoughts. Her heart, ran heedlessly ahead, down to where her husband stood waiting at the foot of the staircase.

Henry stood, nervous, but so completely hopeful. She had allowed him a chance, a kiss. He watched as his fair wife approached him.

"You look beautiful, madam," Henry said with a bow. And she did. An absolute goddess. "I hope you slept well?"

"Very well, thank you," Fanny felt her face warm. So this is what it felt to be properly courted. At least welcome courting. "Sir," she matched his formality with a curtsy. The sudden manners did not feel distant. Instead, they felt … respectful.

Together, they cautiously made their way to the largest drawing room. There Edmund was waiting already, watching as the Crawford carriage was brought around. Despite his negation, the large and comfortable carriage would take him all the way to Mansfield Park.

He watched as the two entered the room, and his heart contracted. They seemed happy together, something he had not seen between them before. Fanny had her hand on Henry's arm, they merged together as a striking couple. He felt a flash of anger, but he suppressed it when he saw her smile. Ultimately was it not all that mattered?

The departure was sweet and comfortable, old friends happy to have seen each other, sad to be parted, and expectant to meet again. Edmund left in the comfortable carriage, toward the impending chaos of a broken engagement.

A few tears escaped Fanny's eyes as the carriage pulled from Everingham. She turned away and tried to brush them away quickly, but her husband was quick to note.

Gently, he took her shoulders and turned her toward him. With a handkerchief, he dried her tears carefully.

"We shall make a trip to Mansfield in the near future." He promised.

She did not answer, but smiled instead. He was so close, she did not trust her voice to remain steady. She could smell the musky smell of man on him and faintly of the cigars he smoked in his study. Just when she half expected a repeat of last night's kiss, Henry pulled away.

"Would the madam care to join me for a turn about the gardens?" Henry held his arm out for her again, not noticing her disappointment.

"That sounds lovely," Fanny took his arm.

And it was. Their walk turned out to be the happiest memory Fanny had at Everingham. Henry was completely attentive and his conversation never boring. He asked about her preferences in the flowers, her favorite colors, her past, her points of views in music, art, politics and controversial topics. He drew out conversation from her as a spinner pulled thread. In return he shared stories on the acquisition of each plant, as each seemed to have a story behind it. He told her of his childhood, his family, his taste in music and color.

Henry always had a charming personality, but here with her, it was completely natural. He was not trying to impress or boast. He was trying to share with her all that he could. He was in an especially animated retelling of childhood mischief when as they walked when they came upon a blanket and a complete picnic set up.

"Sir?" Fanny raised her eyebrows and looked up at her husband.

"It is about meal time, how convenient." He feigned ignorance and pulled Fanny to the blanket. Once she was comfortable, he settled beside her.

Their meal was lovely and Henry told her a particularly humorous story of his first time in London toward the end.

Fanny laughed. At first softly, then it grew all consuming. Henry seemed surprised at her growing laughter. His facial expression only added to her amusement. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall back on the blanket. She had not been as at ease since … she could not remember.

Henry looked down at her from his sitting position. The look on his face sent her heart aflutter.

"Is there anything you would like to do, Fanny?" Henry asked softly.

"Do?" She blinked. Her mind rushing.

"Yes, do you have any dreams?" He gingerly played with her hair, spreading it on the blanket. He thought she looked like an angel.

"Dreams?" Fanny contemplated. "I have never wished for more than I had, Sir."

"Truly?" Henry face went thoughtful. "Our life is a steady rhythm of the same. We live to work, to live and finally die. With distractions in the middle. Dreams make it all less unbearable."

"That is a grim attitude," Fanny said as Henry stretched out beside her.

"It is truth," He said settling beside her. She could not see him, but she could feel his shoulder pressing next to her. "It can be lovely, but we only live for such a brief time. What is the purpose when it will all disappear? Why do I struggle to maintain a home that will someday not be mine. Eventually will be rubble. Why do my tenants break their backs on hard labor? One day it will all be for naught."

"Perhaps," She lifted her hands toward the sky. She traced the clouds with her fingers. "But the clouds are white and the sky is so blue. We are all making an effort so we can see them."

"What is the purpose of that?" She saw his hands trace the clouds as well.

"There is no purpose." She said. She thought back to his confessions of drinking and women before he was married. Was this why he was so reckless before? "Must there be a purpose?"

"Well… I suppose," He answered. "Do humans not need a purpose?"

"No," Fanny reached for his raised hand. She did not touch it mostly because his arms were longer and she could not reach.

He pulled away and turned to his side so he could see her better. She dropped her hands to her stomach.

"How can there not be a purpose?" He asked confused.

She shrugged. "Having a purpose, like charity or leadership, is good. It makes rising in the mornings that much easier. But most do not have a great purpose for their lives. Most will pass away without a flutter, unknown to the world."

"Exactly!" He placed his hand over her hands on her stomach. The touch was casual, but it brought a blush to Fanny's face. "Our inevitable death is nothing to the universe. Without a flutter, as you said."

"But what of his family?" She asked, turning her head to see his full portrait. "What of his mother, or his brother? His wife and children? His passing did not disturb the universe, but to his loved ones, the whole universe collapsed."

"And if he had none?"

"Then the flowers he tended mourn him."

"And if he did not garden?"

"The dog he threw his scraps to will cry."

"And if he did not feed any animals?"

"Then a star somewhere in the night will fall in his honor." Fanny said with finality.

Henry laughed. "Very well, I give this debate to you, but we shall return to this in a later time."

Fanny sat up, trying to straighten her dress and her hair. Henry reached toward her, clumsily attempted to help. His fingers tangled in her hair, making the pins tumble.

"I seem to have made matters worse," He said with a laugh.

Fanny looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. His face was so close, and she marveled at the masculine features as she had never seen a man this close. She noted his dark eyebrows were thicker than a woman's, his soft eyes narrower. A ghost of facial hair made her wonder how it would feel. She suddenly realized her hand was cupping his cheek, feeling it. Startled, she was about to withdraw but it was too late.

Henry, with his fingers still in her hair pulled her face forward. Their lips met, harder than before. Fanny gasped at the intensity, Henry took the opportunity to slip into her mouth, startling her. With only slight hesitation, Fanny allowed herself to melt into him. Where she was unsure, Henry was sure. He maneuvered her head expertly, and she followed willingly, trusting him.

Heat from her heart spread through her body, and she felt as if her heart would burst from her chest. One of his hands dropped from her hair to her back and he pressed her closer. She could feel herself become enveloped in him. His taste and smell. His feel.

Perhaps it was because she was inexperienced and she had little guard. Perhaps her heart was naturally inclined toward any man that was kind to her. Perhaps… he was her fate. Regardless, she was in love. She felt it and she knew it as his kiss drew her out. His touch warmed her skin and heart.

Perhaps Henry felt a change in her through their kiss, because he slowed and pulled away. He looked at her in wonder, as if he had never seen her before. She smiled, a large smile with open lips and closed eyes.

"Perhaps I was wrong about the universe..."