The London ton was abuzz once more. This new creature from the country had proved to bear more gossip than any other single member of society this season. It was confirmed now that she was intimate friends with the elegant Miss C and the notorious Mrs. B nee Crawford. They had been seen mingling with the most distinguished of the gentry and nobility. The Bertram family was respectable enough in their own right, however, the backing of the two greatest families in town, Crofts and Crawfords, was too grandacious to be kept quiet. Perhaps Mr. C was only introducing Miss Pr to the neighborhood when he gave her special attention? After all, she was close with his sister and his fiancee. Perhaps they all had an outing that only the two were able to execute. In fact, many were sure they had seen the three ladies with Mr. Tom B, Mr. Edmund B, and Mr. C on many outings together as a group. Others recalled Mr. C and Mr. B chatting away at the men's lounge too. Obviously no animosity could exist between the group.
Henry Crawford lowered the papers to take a sip of his coffee. He would need something stronger if he continued reading these gossip columns. They used abbreviations but it was too direct for the wagging tongues of the town.
So this was Mary's plan.
He was happy that it was saving Miss Price from falling from grace, but it was killing him as well.
There may as well be an announcement that Miss Price and Tom were engaged. The pairings were so well placed it was sickening.
He was forced to watch her too.
She looked beautiful in the gowns and jewels his sister and Miss Croft bestowed upon her. She remained the quiet and shy girl he knew, although in the new attire it came across as mature and pensive. Though he supposed she had always been that as well.
It was what he was reduced to now, watching her in his peripheral vision as she sparkled through the crowd, their constant association inevitable.
They tried to stay out of each other's path, but he could not deny that he lived for those moments that their eyes caught and quickly looked away.
It was additionally quite impossible not to run into her when Mary and Miss Croft were joining efforts to purposefully expose him to Miss Price at every turn. He seemed to catch a glimpse of every new dress, hat, and gloves, and it was driving him mad. He understood their intent, but he was not going to place more pressure on the lady once she had made her decision.
What puzzled him was the lack of announcement of the engagement. The papers all but confirmed it, and yet there was no official confirmation from the Bertrams. Some thought they were reveling in the attention, others thought they were waiting for the younger Bertram lady to find a match first.
Regardless of the reason, Henry could not keep the mess from his mind longer than an hour. No matter how he distracted himself.
When Mary informed him that she had organized a quiet evening of card playing, he was relieved… until the guests arrived. He wondered at his own innocence thinking that his sister would not torture him at every possible moment.
Shortly after Miss Croft, the Bertram ladies arrived along with Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth and Miss Price.
She was a vision in her simple celeste evening dress. And Henry decided that blue was his favorite color and it greatly suited her. A few wisps of hair had already fallen from her updo and it reminded him of the walks they took at Mansfield Park.
He tore his eyes away only after Mary cleared her throat so he could greet the next guest.
George Croft, Miss Croft's older brother, was in town for a few nights on business and had paid them a visit.
Finally, Lucas arranged to arrive with his bright eyed cousin, Mr. Yates, accompanying him.
The card party had become more than an intimate gathering with twelve attendants. There were enough people for three card tables, but as cards could not hold Mrs. Bertram's attention for long, they decided on two tables. The remaining four guests would wander the room, reading, conversing or playing the pianoforte. It allowed for a changing of seats so no one else grew tired of playing. There was a generous spread of post-dinner delectables to visit and it kept a lively atmosphere.
The soft murmur of chatter and clinking of tea spoons contrasted greatly with the darkness brewing within Henry. He could hardly focus on the game before him, greatly annoying Mr. Rushworth at his inattention.
Miss Price took her seat beside Mrs. Bertram, nodding to her conversation, attending to her as was customary. He wondered how a person could be so present, so alive as she. He wondered how a person could be as exhilarated, yet as lost as he.
Much to the relief of Mr. Rushworth, Henry opted to bow out for the next game, giving his seat to Mr. Yates.
He stood with Lucas, who was staring blankly at the bookshelf for some time now.
"I am a fool," Lucas said in hushed tones, sensing Henry beside him.
"I believe we both are," Henry confessed.
"Quite a pair we make," Lucas sighed.
"Indeed,"
Henry looked back at the other card table where Miss Croft was besting every single person before her. She was very pointedly not looking at them.
"She cares for you, you know," Henry said to his friend.
"Do not mock me, Crawford," Lucas gave another sigh. He may run out of air with all the sighs he was giving.
"You should have seen her that day." Henry told him. "She was angry at us. We ruined whatever new scheme she was concocting."
"She was angry," Lucas practically whispered. "Because I insulted her for ever thinking I could be worthy of her."
Henry frowned at his friend. Lucas was a good chap, an honest and true fellow, more than any of his supposedly influential friends. He was one of the few Henry was proud to have around Miss Price. When Lucas had been earning his fortune, and integrating into society, he had endured many snide comments and outright insults. Never had he seen his friend so defeated, and by a woman no less.
Miss Price rose to fetch a pastry for Mrs. Bertram and the movement in his peripheral snapped his attention to her before he quickly looked away.
No, he could not blame his friend.
"I have known Miss Croft many years, and I still do not know what she is thinking or feeling if she does not tell me." Henry said carefully. "But Mary is her confidant and I asked my sister once what Miss Croft thought of you."
This caught Lucas's attention.
"She refused to tell me, but my sister I can easily read." Henry shook his head. "Miss Croft reciprocates your feelings, but she is trapped."
The surprised, and then grateful face of his friend was worth breaking Mary's confidence. Just as quickly, a shadow fell across his face.
"That does not change my position much now, does it?" He said.
"No," Henry stole again another glance at the girl in the blue dress. "In fact, it may be worse."
"Or perhaps it is for the best," Lucas shrugged, finally selecting a book. He returned to the chairs to open his book, allowing himself to be tortured just by existing in the same room as Miss Croft.
Henry was less self-sacrificing and finally escaped to visit the library in the next room, claiming he did not find one book of interest in the small selection.
There was a small fire, and the silence was a welcome change, although his mind continued to hum with noise. He set forth to truly find a book, one that could quiet his thoughts.
He was browsing the opposite side of a bookcase when he heard someone entering the library. He braced himself for Miss Bertram searching for him, even though Mr. Yates had taken most of her attention this evening.
However, he heard only rustling as someone browsed through the selection.
He was looking down at the open book in his hands when a book left the shelf. He angled his face so he could see down at the now vacant space. It revealed the beautifully framed face of Miss Price on the opposite side of the bookcase.
"Oh," She started in surprise. "Mr. Crawford."
The smile was completely involuntary on his part.
"Miss Price."
Fanny's heart quickened, and she knew this because she could basically feel her pulse in her throat.
His handsome smile.
She felt her face heat.
"Are you looking for a book in particular, Miss Price?" He spoke softly, cautiously even.
"Mrs. Bertram would like a book of poems, but she did not like those in the room," Fanny answered, unable to look away from him.
"I see," He nodded seriously. "She must have only the best poems."
She smiled at his silliness. She could not help it.
"How have you been, Miss Price?" He asked, even softer if that were possible.
"I have been …" She wanted to lie and say good. It was the expected response. "..fine." It was the best she could do. "And yourself, Mr. Crawford?"
He gave a humorless chuckle, looking down for a moment.
"Fine," He said finally.
The guilt ached in her stomach, guilt at his pain that she caused, and guilt at the selfish thoughts that crossed her mind even now.
She had to leave immediately.
"Just so you know, Miss Price." Mr. Crawford met her eyes again, holding her hostage. "Falling in love with you has been the best thing in my life. I would never want it any different. I absolve you of any and all responsibility, as it was completely my doing."
Did he truly say that, or had she imagined it?
Oh, how her heart beat. She felt the tears welling in her eyes.
She shook her head, now was not the time.
"I cannot leave all the responsibility to you," Fanny said, it was her turn to speak softly, less out of fear of being heard than out of fear of crying. "I am far from blameless."
"There is no blame to be had," He reassured her. He was hurting, yet he was reassuring her.
"Then I wish to take the blame, regardless" She frowned at him, in the rush of passionate speech. "I will share in your pain, as I share in your feelings."
With a gasp, she covered her mouth over her outburst.
The vulnerability and open affection on his face broke her heart even further. It sent her mind a flutter and she had to concentrate to keep from running away with her emotions.
Mr. Crawford leaned an arm against the case and gave her the saddest smile.
"Well Miss Price, it seems your analysis of the tragic Romeo and Juliet was not quite right." He reached across the vacancy between the books to hand her a volume of love poems.
The book remained suspended between them, their hands touching for a few seconds before Fanny took the book.
"It would seem so," She hugged the book to her chest, as if she could pull herself back together with her own strength.
"Thank you, Miss Price," He said after a quiet moment.
She did not answer, but practically ran from the library.
For a wild moment, she wondered what would happen if she remained. What if she disregarded everything else, and followed the beating of her heart?
She leaned against the wall beside the door leading back to the drawing room. It was left ajar and she could hear Anne's tinkling laughter. She heard Mr. Yates raising his voice to tell his story, and Mrs. Bertram was engaging in the conversation.
No, she could not do it.
She was used to living with a certain degree of pain and self loathing. But she could not live with the guilt of betraying her family, both the Bertrams and the Prices who trusted her. Her sisters would bear the shame, her brother would struggle making useful connections, her parents would deny association, and the Bertrams would be dishonored in their circles. And Tom…
She shook the thought from her head. It would not do to wallow in the perhaps if nothing was to come of it.
With one last steadying breath, Fanny took a step and braved the crowd. She refused to look back at the library door that remained open after her... for her.