Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Sense and Sensibility! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates on the second and fourth Saturday of each month!
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As the month allotted for the Brandons' honeymoon came to an end, Marianne left her bed once her bleeding had ceased to acquaint herself with her less exciting and far less pleasurable wifely duties.
Christopher remained by her side for the majority of each day.
Although he only left to travel into London when business dictated an urgent need for his presence, Marianne found herself faced with various decisions regarding domestic matters about which she hadn't expected to be consulted.
Christopher journeyed into London for a brief meeting one afternoon while Marianne sat and read a book in the estate's library, content to patiently wait for her husband to return.
A couple of hours later, Mrs. Millins unexpectedly appeared in the doorway to the sitting room and asked Marianne, "...Mrs. Brandon?"
Marianne blinked as she looked up from her book and smiled, "Oh! Mrs. Millins, you can call me 'Marianne' if you'd like."
"Mrs. Brandon…" Mrs. Millins insisted as she frowned at her mistress, "Please forgive my intrusion, but there's been a most unfortunate accident with the parlor curtains…..I'd like to have your input on a new pair so that I can order a replacement set as quickly as possible."
Marianne blinked.
Mrs. Millins waited in the doorway while Mrs. Brandon slowly closed her book and asked, "My input?...Is Christopher unable to examine the curtains once he returns?"
"My dear girl," Mrs. Millins sighed as she clasped her hands together, "You are the lady of the house, are you not? Surely you realize your title dictates duties beyond sharing your husband's bed."
Marianne blushed as she asked shyly, "...May I ask what you mean, Mrs. Millins?"
"The Colonel has given the staff full instructions that you are to be his partner in the running of this estate." Mrs. Millins frowned.
When Marianne continued to stare at her in confusion, Mrs. Millins huffed and added, "That includes matters such as choosing decorations and seeing to domestic issues like ruined curtains, Mrs. Brandon! Now if you please……"
As Mrs. Millins made a motion with her hand, Marianne's eyes widened as she stood from her chair, walked over to the door, and followed Mrs. Millins down the hallway to the parlor.
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Marianne didn't understand enough about the housekeeper's actions to appreciate what she was trying to teach her as they entered the room together.
The maids looked at each other in shame as Mrs. Millins stepped forward and showed Marianne the ripped curtains.
"There you are, Mrs. Brandon." Mrs. Miller sighed while Marianne examined the slits in the fabric, "I'm afraid Edith slipped as she dusted the rod and dragged them to the floor with her. It won't do to have a set of hanging curtains with visible tears."
"No……no, it won't." Marianne frowned as she ran her fingers along the torn window decorations.
"Shall we replace them with the same curtains, Mrs. Brandon? Or order something a bit different from the fabric makers in London?" Mrs. Millins asked as she pursed her lips.
Marianne stared at the destroyed curtains and thought very hard.
She knew that the estate had been in Christopher's family for generations.
Although Marianne sought to preserve the property's legacy out of respect for her husband, Mrs. Brandon wasn't entirely averse to settling into her new home, either.
"Perhaps we can inquire if this colour is available in a slightly different pattern?" Marianne asked as she looked up at Mrs. Millins, "I don't wish to compromise the heritage of this room, or this house, however, something a bit more…..eye-catching…..may be pleasantly suitable."
"Of course, Mrs. Brandon." Mrs. Millins nodded, "Well send an inquiry right away."
A proud smile spread across Mrs. Millins' face as Marianne resumed her careful examination of the destroyed fabric.
Mrs. Brandon had surprised her by not only making a decision, but her own choice, which had been both bold and respectful.
Neither of the women noticed that Christopher had returned from his business meeting to silently creep down the hallway and listen to their conversation.
As he watched Marianne run her delicate fingers along the curtains which he remembered hiding in during the days of his early youth, his eyes softened in gentle admiration.
He had chosen a good wife.
He could feel it in his soul.
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The skills that were needed to run a successful household had to be learned over time by all new brides.
Enrolled in Mrs. Millins' thoughtful lectures about the estate, Marianne quickly received instructions on what it meant to be Mrs. Colonel Brandon beyond the marriage bed.
Christopher was not one particularly prone to entertaining, however his position in society dictated the need for occasional events to be held at his estate.
Marianne was every bit a gracious hostess from her lovely dresses to her kind smiles to the caring patience she always showed her guests.
Together, she and Christopher visited with British society's most notable members at their home and others as the seasons changed.
News traveled in the fastest fashion, spread by one gossiping mouth to another.
Engagements were announced.
Marriages took place.
Whispers of pregnancies came along with the jovial declaration of births some months afterwards.
Marianne and Christopher were kindly receptive to such bits of information, as all good and decent people were expected to be, although they both hid their sadness whenever the news of recent parenthood reached their ears.
The sound was always particularly disappointing when it came from a couple who had been married a shorter amount of time.
Christopher never mentioned it to his beloved.
He took her into his arms, kissed her, and whispered sweet nothings to her, but Marianne saw the glint of sadness in his eyes.
One night, as she lay awake while Christopher snored gently beside her, she frowned and stared up at the ceiling.
During her time spent in the women's parlor at the latest party they had attended, Marianne had heard excited whisperings that had made her hopeful.
Christopher had an appointment in London the next day for a luncheon with an important gentleman.
Marianne had decided that she had her own errands to complete as well……..
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As Christopher carried out his rendezvous the next day with Sir William Engleston, Marianne quietly asked the estate's assistant footman to drive her into the city, which the young man finally agreed to do after more than a little hesitation.
Marianne requested him to drive her to the address the other ladies had mentioned.
When the carriage finally pulled into the dingy street, she balked as she looked out of the small window at the shabby shop in front of her.
The tattered sign clearly read above the door:
Tonics and Cures
Fyne Apothecary
Est. 1700
Marianne pulled her heavy cloak around herself.
She made certain her hood lay over her head enough to cover her hair and conceal her face before she allowed the assistant footman to help her out of the vehicle.
The day was cold and dismal.
Marianne's nervousness made her fingers tremble as she opened the shop's door and entered.
"Well, hello, dearie~," A cackle came from the nearby counter as soon as Marianne walked into the establishment, "What brings you to see us today?"
Marianne kept her head down to avoid being recognized as she murmured her reply while she approached the voice, "I heard that this shop sells goods for a woman in my situation."
She lifted her eyes only enough to spy the elderly woman behind the counter, who stared at her with a grey, unblinking gaze, clad in a dress as dilapidated as the sign that hung outside.
"A full womb is it, then, dearie?" The woman laughed, "I take it you're another girl from the workhouse."
"Yes….I….I am from the workhouse." Marianne lied, "But a full womb is not my issue…..I'm afraid it's the opposite."
"I see……." The woman sniffed as she turned around to face the wall behind herself.
Marianne bunched her cloak around her neck to make certain her elegant dress wouldn't be seen as the woman rummaged through the plethora of natural ingredients that hung in glass jars on the wall behind the counter.
"A fine tea, dearie." The woman sighed as she worked, "...That should offer the cure you're seeking."
A moment later, the elderly woman turned to place a small, glass vial filled with an assortment of herbs, flowers, and sediment on the counter.
As Marianne reached to pull out her money, the eerie smile that cracked across the woman's thin, wrinkled face sent a shiver down her spine.
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Christopher had no idea about his wife's secret quest.
He maintained his ignorance until the morning that Marianne sat in the parlor while she dared to remove the glass vial she had tucked between her breasts and steep the bizarre tea.
After she pouted the vial's contents into her waiting cup, she stared down at the odd concoction as she tucked the vial back into her cleavage.
As soon as the mixture touched the water, an odious scent permeated the air as the liquid took on a sickly tinge of greyish-green.
Marianne wrinkled her nose in disgust as she lifted the teacup to her lips.
Since the other women had claimed the concoction had helped, she had convinced herself to give it an honest try…….
After all, she would do anything to provide Christopher with a child, anything!
Her desperation prompted her to ignore common sense.
Marianne's beautiful blue eyes drifted towards the ceiling as she lifted the cup and tilted her head back.
The liquid had not yet touched her lips when footsteps came down the hallway seconds before Colonel Brandon put his head through the door and frowned as he asked, "Marianne?...What is that horrible stench?"
She looked over at her husband in surprise as she lowered her hand with a frown.
From the doorway, Christopher narrowed his eyes at the mixture he noticed his wife's teacup contained.
"What is that……..?" He demanded as he furrowed his brow and walked over.
"It's…..It's a bit of tea I purchased in London." She explained.
"Well, it's not fit for drinking….It's clearly gone sour." Christopher said distrustfully as he took the teacup from his wife and examined its contents.
"I purchased the blend from a specialty shop….The other ladies told me great things about their products!" Marianne insisted as Christopher stepped over to one of the parlor's main windows, cracked it open, and poured the tea into the grass outside.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the ominous tea melt the grass like devouring acid.
Christopher looked over and gazed at his wife with a solemn frown until she hung her head and admitted, "Christopher, it pains me to see you toss that mixture aside….its purpose was to help me conceive."
"My darling Marianne," Christopher sighed as he strode over, knelt in front of her, and took her hand, "If we are to remain childless for the rest of years, that is a reality I'll gladly accept if it means having you by my side…….I will not, however, tolerate you ingesting dangerous substances from charlatans in ill-conceived attempts to bear a son or daughter."
Marianne frowned as Christopher leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to her lips.
It frustrated her that he had taken away what she felt may have been a viable way to achieve a pregnancy.
Regardless of her foolish feelings, she saw the concern in her husband's gentle gaze as he spied the vial between her breasts, slyly reached forward, and plucked it from between her creamy mounds.
Christopher stared into her eyes as he slipped the vial into his hand to remove it from her possession and ultimately prevent her from harming herself.
Marianne gave him a wry smile as she placed her hands on his face and gave him another gentle kiss.
She took comfort in contemplating the depths of Christopher's feelings for her.
She knew there were many men who would have unmercifully forced that dreadful mixture down her throat with no regard for her safety while they pursued their own aspirations.
Marianne felt very fortunate to have found true love.