Chapter 17 Reflection

Fanny did not want to open her eyes, for the reality of her life would come back in full force.
Also, her head felt as if it would explode if she opened her eyes.

When she came back from the ride yesterday, she had excused herself and had gone straight up to her room. She had cried until she had no tears left and a headache became unbearable.

She did not know what pained her most. The fact that she had had to disappoint Mr Crawford? It hurt her to reject him. But it would be the best for him. He deserved so much better, so much more than she could offer.
It pained her as well that her circumstances were such that she could not accept him. She did not love him, but he was such a kind man, that she would have had a chance of happiness with him.
She had seen how much pain her rejection brought him, but still he had showed her he respected her. He had not insisted or pressured her. He had respected her decision and her feelings about the matter.
He truly was a good man!

And now he was gone. This morning he would ride to London. Would she ever see him again?

Maybe the thing that hurt her the most was that their friendship was now irrevocably lost. They had spent so much time together; she had truly felt at ease with him. His presence had improved her life! And now, because of this, it was all gone.

Tears started to fall again as she mourned the loss of their friendship.

Someone knocked on her door.
"Who is it?" she managed to say.
"It's me," sounded Edmund's voice.
Oh no! What would he say if he saw her in this state?
"I am sorry Edmund. I do not feel well enough to leave my room."
He sounded concerned. "Can I do something to help?"
She sighed. "Not really, but thank you."
She assumed he had left until his voice sounded through the door again.
"What shall I say to my mother?"
"Come in Edmund. This talking through the door is not working."
He entered hesitantly.
"Sorry Fanny, I did not want to make it awkward. But my mother was asking why you were not at breakfast. It is far later than your usual hours."

He looked at her with pity.
She must look awful, because of her tears.
"Are you feeling ill? What is the matter? You look like you hardly had any sleep."
"I… did find it difficult to sleep. And my head aches a great deal."
"But we can remedy that! Let me call Sarah to get you some headache powder. And if a headache is the only ailment, maybe you should have a little walk in the garden. Some fresh air might do you good."
Fanny smiled a little. Edmund was always so solicitous to try to make her feel better.
She accepted the headache powder and said she would think about the walk.
"If you go, do you want me to come with you?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she said. "Thank you."
He left her room when Sarah came.
"I will tell my mother that you are not well. Get better soon, cousin."

Fanny accepted the care of the maid and after a while the powders started to work.
Sarah had also brought some breakfast and after eating, Fanny was ready to get dressed and leave her room.
She did not wish to be in company, so she dressed up and then went outside.

Edmund and his ideas had distracted her mind for a while, but now her thoughts came back in full force. Aimlessly she wandered through the gardens without seeing much of it. It was true that the fresh air helped her to physically feel better. But her mind was still in agony. The thought of Mr Crawford's pain had her nearly undone. She only hoped he could soon see the wisdom in her decision and she prayed that London would help him to overcome his troubles.

She was once more disturbed in her thoughts by the arrival of Edmund.
"So you did go out on your own? How are you feeling?"
"A little better. And I needed some time on my own."
"I thought we were going for a ride this morning. But if you're not feeling well, it is maybe better not to go."
The thought of riding pained her. It would remind her of what happened yesterday.
"Maybe tomorrow I will feel well again."

"Something more than just a headache is bothering you. What is the matter?"
"Forgive me, Edmund, but I cannot speak about it. Not yet."
"Has this something to do with Crawford?" he asked.
Fanny was frightened. Did he know something? Did he suspect something?
"I mean," he continued. "You have become such good friends in the last months that it must pain you that he is gone to London."
Fanny nodded. "Yes, yes. That is it." She dared not say more.
"Well, I dare say time will pass so quickly that he will be back before you know it."
She did not reply.

Edmund shut his mouth. He must be careful, for the more he said, the more painful it could become for her.

He had not seen her when he came home yesterday and had understood immediately why she had excused herself for the rest of the day. He had decided that it would be best to give her some time.

But when he saw her this morning, he doubted if it was a good idea. She looked awful. The whole ordeal seemed to have shocked her a great deal. If he knew her well enough, she would probably be more upset about the pain she had caused Crawford, than on her own behalf.

He truly hoped she soon would confide in him. He did not want to break the promise he made to Crawford, but he wanted to help her. "If you want to talk about anything, know that I will listen, Fanny!"

She nodded. "I might. But not today."

The next week found Sir Thomas leaving for London with his two daughters. The house became so much quieter now. There was less distraction for Fanny. A few times she had wished she had accepted Sir Thomas' invitation to go to London with them. But then she thought about the possibility of seeing Mr Crawford there.
And she didn't feel ready for that.

In her mind she had gone over her acquaintance with him from since the beginning. She had recalled what he had said, how he had looked, his behaviour towards her.
Now that she knew, she could see that some of his behaviour was clearly guided by his love for her. She blushed at her thoughts. She remembered his worries for her wellbeing, the ways how he had cheered her up. The times that he had gotten her to talk about things she would never have dreamt of sharing with anyone else; how he had comforted her various times, especially after her confrontations with Mr Rushworth and later with Mr Nicholson.
When she realised all this, she was nearly overwhelmed by his apparent feelings for her.

Another week saw Edmund also leave. He needed to go to his university to prepare for his ordination. Without him, the house became even quieter. Tom and Mr Yates had also gone to London.
Now it was just Fanny and her two aunts, although Mrs Norris did not come every day now that her two favourite nieces were absent.

Some days after Mr Crawford's departure, Fanny had confided in Edmund about the proposal. Although it had been a difficult thing to do, she also felt a bit better having shared it with someone. Edmund tried a little bit to change her mind – he was sure his father would have no objections, and Mrs Norris had no say in the matter at all – but he did respect her decision.

A few times a week she saw Mary and Mrs Grant. Sometimes they would invite her over to the parsonage and other times they visited the great house. These visits were particularly difficult for Fanny. It seemed that Mary knew something – although not about the proposal; she would not have stopped talking about it, Fanny was sure. Mary was always eager to share her brother's latest letter with Fanny. The latter felt so uncomfortable by this. It pained her to hear news of him.
"He does not sound like himself in his letters," Mary said once. "I find I miss some of his liveliness. I think he misses us all very much!" Here was a pointed look towards Fanny.
Fanny did not react.

More and more she wished she could decline the invitations, for it was incredibly painful to spend time with his sisters and to hear his virtues praised and his activities described in minutiae.

But even at home there was no escape.

Julia, as well as Maria, wrote letters to their mother, which Fanny then would read out loud for the lady. Besides describing all the events they went to, with whom they danced at which ball, etc. etc., they sometimes spoke of meeting Mr Crawford. However, Julia complained that she should hardly know him. 'He is so altered since he was with us at Mansfield Park,' she wrote. 'We do meet him at some balls, but he does not seem very engaged in the activities. We invited him to dine with us, but he claimed a prior engagement. He seems very busy for his uncle too.' Julia then went on to describe how Maria had tried to flirt with him. He was of course not as rich as Mr Rushworth had been, but he would be 'a good catch', especially since they were already acquainted with him.
However, to Maria's infinite regret, Mr Crawford did not return her flirtations and Maria had already given up. 'He is not much fun anymore,' she had said.

Fanny did not know what to feel when she heard this. Would she feel guilty? For it seemed he was still suffering. Or would she be glad that he had not fallen back into his old habits?

She had heard he used to be a real womaniser before. She had never seen that side of him. He had never really given her cousins any special attention. Yes, he had often conversed with Julia, but she had seen no flirtations of any kind. She remembered Mrs Norris' ill-advised comment about him soon proposing to Julia.

After her examination of his behaviour in his time at Mansfield, she had noticed that it was only her he had given particular attention to, although he never flirted. But then, maybe he had, and she had not recognised it as such. She remembered his gallantry on the first day they met. How he had already taken care of her, bringing her home in his own curricle.
Without noticing, a little smile had appeared when she relived that memory.

Fanny quite enjoyed the quiet days with just her aunt Bertram. She needed this calm environment after some months with pain and difficulties.
Whenever Mrs Norris was around, it seemed that she was still blaming Fanny for what happened. Many times she mentioned how it was such a shame that it had gone wrong.
Once even Lady Bertram seemed to have tired of her sister's continuous complaining. "I for one am very glad that that man has gone away. I shiver when I think of what he did to my poor Sir Thomas."
Mrs Norris had not replied to that.
But the next day she had started all over again.

Fanny usually did her best to ignore her aunt's talk. It was seldom anything good, except maybe if she was talking about her 'dear Maria and Julia in London'.
She would gush about them being the beauties of every ballroom and hoped they would come back engaged to titled, rich men.

The weather was now so cold that she could only manage riding for a short time and only a few times a week. She kept doing it though, whenever possible. It gave her the fresh air she needed and the time alone to think. Besides, when she was galloping over the fields and breathing in the frosty air, it made her heart beat faster; it made her feel alive. When the sun would shine over the glistening fields, the sky bright blue, she felt some happiness. She did not forget her troubles, but it gave her hope that there was still beauty in the world and she felt privileged to witness it in nature.

Henry was returning from a morning ride. He was staying at his uncle's cottage in Twickenham for some days. He was tired of the busy city, the social engagements, the superficiality of the people. This place felt like a space to breathe, being outside of the city, and he could ride around the countryside as much as he liked. Unfortunately, he was expected back at his uncle's residence in town this very afternoon. Henry sighed. How he wished he could turn back to Northamptonshire! He really was counting the weeks!

Fanny was never out of his mind even though he tried. Thinking about her pained him, but forgetting would be even worse. He owed most of his change in character to her. Whether she would eventually accept him or not, his heart was irrevocably hers.

When he had just arrived in town, his uncle had taken him to many different parties and he had met some of his old friends again. But the way some of them behaved made him think of Rushworth or Nicholson and he was disgusted by their behaviour. And by his own conduct in the past.

He also met plenty of ladies whom he knew from before. Many of them seemed eager to be flirted with and capture his attention. He tried to enjoy himself, but he had lost his skills in flirting it seemed. Many times in his mind he could almost see Fanny looking on, not condemning, just as herself, gentle, but holding on to her principles. It made him lose interest in whatever he was doing.
In the end he just gave up; started to find excuses to not have to attend those parties, and instead he would escape to Twickenham and enjoy the quiet.

His uncle had asked a few times what was wrong with him. He had given vague answers and tried to avoid any talk about personal subjects or about his time at Mansfield.

A few times he had met and visited the Bertrams, who stayed in their townhouse. He mostly enjoyed talking with Sir Thomas but only tolerated the girls' incessant talk about the pleasures of London. They had hardly ever been in London so it was at first quite endearing to see their enthusiasm.

What was less pleasant – besides how painful it was to see them and be reminded of Fanny – was the fact that Maria seemed to have set her eyes on him. At parties where he met them, she claimed his attention and flirted shamelessly with him. He found it at first a bit uncomfortable but soon it grew into annoyance. He made sure his reactions to her were neutral. He tried to not encourage her and kept his distance. Soon it seemed to help, for after a few of those occasions, she shifted her attention to other men. Henry breathed a sigh of relief. She might be a pretty girl but in no way could she compare with Fanny.

His sisters' letters always had a few lines about Fanny. Sophie was much subtler, but Mary told him exactly how Miss Price had looked, what she had said, etc. etc. Both of them said she was quieter than before and often looked sad and melancholic.
Mary said she hoped he would soon be back, for although she spent time with Fanny, other than that, life was quite boring. Everyone else was gone.

There was, however, not much he could do about that. He would not go there just so he could convey her back to London. No, he would come back in January, as he had planned. His sister had to wait until then, and meanwhile seek her own ways to occupy herself.

A.N. I had some difficulty writing this chapter. I guess because not much is happening. I hope you liked it nonetheless. And who knows what will happen in the next chapter?! ;-)