Chapter Summary,

Brandon and Marianne are delighted to finally host an occasion at Delaford.


Marianne awaited the arrival of everyone with eagerness.

The last time a picnic was hosted at Delaford, Brandon was unable to enjoy the occasion, now with the beautiful Marianne at his side, the day was set to be a grand one.

Mrs Jennings and Sir John had, of course, arrived early, but were happy to sit in the drawing-room and tuck into the food that he had been prepared.

"You look well Brandon" exclaimed Sir John, patting his friend's shoulder.

"I am"

Sir John lowered his voice, "No doubt thanks to that lovely wife of yours, most agreeable I imagine"

Mrs Jennings heard the remark and laughed heartily, Brandon smiling politely.

"This house is a little less dreary now she is here" agreed, Brandon.

Marianne entered the room to the sound of laughter, "Hello Mrs Jennings, Sir John"

"Oh let me see you!" cried Mrs Jennings happily. "Such rosiness in those cheeks!"

Receiving a fierce embrace, Marianne tolerated the eagerness. If only to please Brandon.

"Brandon has been telling us what a delight it is to have you here"

"Has he indeed?" smiled Marianne, throwing him a glance.

"But what I wonder" whispered Mrs Jennings, in a whisper that might as well have been a shout. "When we shall come and hear little feet running around the place?"

Sir John laughed, Brandon looked to the rug and Marianne coloured. "As soon as I know Madame, I can assure you, you shall be the first to hear"

Mrs Jennings clapped her hands, "Nothing will bring me more joy!"

Grateful for the arrival of Edward and Elinor, Marianne excused herself, followed by Brandon.

He caught up with her in the corridor. "You are most forgiving with them, thank you. Not everyone can tolerate their impertinence"

Marianne smiled, "They are family to you, so they must also be family to me. Besides, I know they mean well, even if they do not know how to say it"

He kissed her head and took a pause, "But I will be the first to know surely?"

She laughed heartily as his obvious jealousy at her little remark to Mrs Jennings. "Naturally, we shall make her think she was the first"


With the arrival of Mrs Dashwood and Margaret, the party was set to leave.

However as Brandon helped Marianne onto her horse, history seemed to repeat itself.

A man with an express charged up the entranceway, calling loudly, "Colonel Brandon!"

Mrs Jennings cried out, "Now Colonel not again!"

Brandon with some reluctance opened the message, Marianne watched his composure change.

Glancing around he simply folded the letter and placed it into his pocket. "Carry on"

Sir John was not satisfied, "Come to Brandon, what is it?"

"Business, but nothing that needs my immediate attention," he replied. "Please, all is well"

Marianne was unconvinced, she grasped his hand, "Christopher?"

"Later" he whispered.

Keeping up appearances, he swung onto his horse. "Shall we?"

The party all agreed and they all headed for the coast.


The August weather was exceptionally agreeable, and almost no one had ventured towards the sea.

Mrs Dashwood and Mrs Jennings set themselves upon the banks of sand, whilst Sir John and Edward fought to keep Margaret from causing herself damage, continuously swinging a large stick about.

Elinor took to sketching out the delightful scene before her, having always excelled in painting, but never wishing for the compliments she received.

Marianne almost instantly wished to walk and Brandon was happy to accompany her.

The pair wandered down to the water's edge, a small competition emerging with a game of stones.

To her frustration she was awful and he was quite good at it.

His stones moved fast and far, skimming the water as they went. Her stones flopping into the foam, never surpassing more than a few metres.

"Blame the war" he whispered teasingly. "I'm a good shot"

"I think my true calling is the pianoforte, with that I shall stay" she concluded, throwing the last rock to the sand.

"You excel at many things, my dear" he assured.

"I'm so warm" she complained, all of a sudden. "I think I shall paddle"

"Marianne, you've no change, besides you shall get cold" warned Brandon, quite against the idea.

"I can get cold Christopher" she replied. "I am not fit to drop with each and every passing breeze"

"I would rather you did not" he replied. "Come have a drink of something"

"I am not asking for your permission," she remarked, seating herself to untie her shoes.

"Then I shall fetch your sister, perhaps she would share my wishes," he said.

"No, don't" cried Marianne, now pulling off her stockings. "Christopher please"

"Yes," he replied.

"Will you come in with me, then I can't go far?" she asked, a cheeky smile on her face.

He raised an eyebrow, "Why would I want to do that?"

"You tell me you never desire to walk in the sea?" she mused. "Yes, its cold but how lovely it will feel against your feet. She pointed down at his riding boots. They must be warmer than mine, those boots look unbearably hot!"

Hating to admit it, Brandon was growing rather uncomfortable in the heat.

Amongst friends and genuine company, surely this quite childish practice would not shake their view of him.

With a defeated sigh he began to tug off his boots, whilst Marianne looked on victorious.

As he rolled up his breeches, she ventured into the water, holding her dress high above the waves, but not so high as to appear immodest.

She waded out a little further, before noticing that Brandon had made no move to follow her.

"Come on" she laughed, "It's quite nice"

"The last time I was in the sea was in the Indies, and it was warm" he called, looking at the water with discontent.

"I imagine if a large wave came and carried me away you'd be here fast enough," remarked Marianne.

"Naturally" he replied. "But alas there is none in sight"

Wading her way back to the shore, she waited with her arm outstretched, "Come"

Taking a deep breath Brandon stepped forward allowing a wave to rush over his feet.

"Ah yes," he said through gritted teeth, "as bad as I remember"

Marianne could only laugh as he stepped like the floor was made of glass, edging towards her slowly.

Once she was satisfied with how far he had come, she added, "There, it is not so bad?"

"A little refreshing," he remarked.

The child her in her spirit could not resist, she reached down and flicked water at him, biting her lip as he jolted.

Brandon tried to look serious, bending over he prepared to throw some water of his own.

"No Christopher!" she squealed, "I did not mean it!"

Despite her pleas, she received a shower of water, and let out a little scream as the cold penetrated her.

With a determined grin, she splashed water at him, not holding back.

Brandon laughed, watching her quickly wade out of the water as he prepared to strike again.

He caught up with her on the sand, pulling her into an embrace, rubbing the goose-pimples that covered her arms.

"Are you quite cool now?" he asked.

"Oh yes" she replied, "Much better"

"Come," he said, grabbing his boots. "Let's return to the others"

She nodded, shaking the sand from her stockings.


"Margaret" called Mrs Dashwood. "Leave poor Edward alone, he's done nothing but chase you for the last half hour"

"Yes, Mama" panted Margaret, flopping at her mother's feet. "But Edward is so good at it"

Edward smiled. "And I will always be at your service"

He collapsed beside Elinor, who was in a fixed state of concentration.

Pressing a kiss to her cheek he praised, "My dear that is quite lovely"

She smiled. "I shall come here more often I think, the view paints with such ease"

"Of course, when such talent is the one doing to painting" he replied.

Marianne gave her sister equal praise as they rejoined the group, "Oh Christopher look! I told you how wonderful she was!"

"You have a good eye" agreed Brandon. "I have a mind to ask you to paint Marianne if you are able to do portraiture?"

"Of course she can!" urged Marianne. "Can't you Elinor!"

Elinor paused, "I fear landscapes are the height of my talent, though I would be delighted to try"

"I will gladly be the test subject" proclaimed Edward.

"It was a passing thought, dear Elinor, please there is no pressure" urged Brandon.

"Thank you Colonel" she nodded.


As evening fell the party returned to Delaford.

A hearty meal followed by good conversation was an added delight to the day.

"I must say" cried, Sir John. "Our picnic last summer does not even rival today, the company is vastly improved"

"Here here" agreed Mrs Jennings. "There is one young man who I certainly do not miss"

"Quite" piped Marianne, "Let us not even give his name our breath"

"But now my dear" urged Sir John. "these old ears have been deprived of your voice for too long, come little songbird, sing for us!"

Brandon was swift, "John, Marianne is quite tired"

"Nonsense" cried Mrs Jennings, "These young people do not feel the night as we do!"

Marianne politely agreed, "One song and that is all"

Opening the pianoforte she did not require the notes before her. This song needed no introduction.

As her fingers glided up the opening scale the room all smiled.

Brandon felt fit to melt, the song when he had first seen Marianne. He sure she never sounded finer than when she sang.

As Marianne brought the piece to an end, the room agreed.

Mrs Jennings And Sir John applauded as loud and as enthusiastically as the first time.

"There Brandon" mused Sir John. "You have a pearl in this wife of yours"

"Believe me" replied Brandon. "I am blissfully aware of it"

Marianne abandoned the instrument happily, Margaret had a mind to show off her scales.

However, upon returning to her seat, she let out a gasp as pain shot through her stomach.

Brandon leapt to his feet and Elinor rose as well as Mrs Dashwood.

Slightly embarrassed as she knew the cause for her reaction, Marianne was eager to dismiss it. "I am well" she urged. "Overtired I imagine"

"Perhaps it is time we departed" suggested Edward.

"I see no reason to," she remarked. "I am well honestly, do not leave just yet"

Elinor saw behind her pretending. "Marianne you look unwell, please shall we summon the doctor?"

"Bring the poor man out for no good reason!" cried Marianne. "How mortifying, no I beg you"

Mrs Jennings called. "Let us leave you now my dear. If I hear the doctor has not been sent for in the morning I shall send for him myself"

"A little fuss over nothing" urged Marianne. "Please Madam"

"Marianne, your friends have every right to worry" replied Mrs Dashwood. "Perhaps we should send for the Doctor"

"Must I speak in a second language?" cried Marianne. "I am well"

Seeing her growing upset Brandon eased her. "A nights rest shall put it right I'm sure"

"Quite right!" added Sir John. "That's is what we shall leave you for"


Marianne fumbled to get ready for bed.

Brandon waited outside her door, unsure as to why she had not mentioned the cause of the pain to him.

Since her serious bout of illness the autumn past, her monthly bleeds had gradually gotten worse. The doctor had told her that it was an effect on the attack on her body, that would hopefully ease in time. But for some reason tonight felt far worse, the pain was greater than ever before.

Stuffing the designated pieces of cloth into their place, she tried to ignore how awful she felt.

Would Brandon be understanding of this? Surely she could not partake in the nightly activities that had almost been regular since their wedding.

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door, "Christopher?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"You may come in if you wish," she added.

He tentatively opened the door, "Marianne you look pale, please may I send for the Doctor"

"There is no cause for concern," she assured, "I have little choice in the matter"

"I'm not sure I understand?" he asked.

"My-" She almost flushed. How could they live as man and wife and yet somehow she could not bring herself to speak out such a normal topic.

"My bleeding" she replied, unable to look him in the eyes. "Since my illness, they have become more severe, it began suddenly tonight, that is why I reacted the way I did"

Brandon almost laughed at his stupidity. His wife was indeed in her childbearing years, how could he have not pieced this together himself. Forcing her to practically spell out her condition.

"Of course my dear" he replied. "Can the pain be eased?"

"Mama sometimes gave me a hot compress but I did not-"

"I shall have Laine prepare one immediately," he said.

She smiled gratefully, "Would you wish me to sleep in here tonight? "I've heard that men normally like to keep away at this time"

"I believe I would object more to not have you in my bed," he replied. "Please do not feel the need to move"

"But you understand I cannot lie with you," she added. "It's quite impossible"

"Did we not spend our first night in the same way? smiled Brandon. "I dislike the idea of knowing you to be apart from me and in pain"

"The pain is not great" she lied. Then, as if to prove her bluff the twisting in her lower abdomen grew in a wave.

"Come" he urged gently. "Lie down"


The hot compress did wonders. Marianne had not felt such relief all evening.

Brandon was very gentle that night, rubbing her back and kissing her head.

She was surprised at how considerate he was. Even Marianne's own father and half brother would not tolerate the mentioning of it. Far better to keep that sort of talk between women, as most feminine matters must stay.

Brandon, however, saw no reason to stand on such ceremony with his own wife. He had vowed to love her at all times, even when her body did things he could not begin to understand. Some of the young men in his acquaintance almost mocked the time in their wife's lives, complaining that all such material relations must remain on a schedule rather than at their whim.

He partly wished he could do more. Seeing her in pain, even a pain she was used to was frustrating. "Is there nothing else I can do?"

Marianne smiled, "No I assure you, lying down is a tonic in itself"

"Perhaps a night of quiet and relaxation is overdue?" he replied.

After a pause he noticed that she was trying to hide her tears.

"Marianne!" he asked softly. "Dearest one, what can I do?. Is it the pain?"

"No" she sniffed. "It's the whole event, what it means"

"It is natural"

"It means I'm not with child" she replied.

Brandon was silent. "Perhaps it is a good thing?"

"Good!" she cried bitterly. "Do you not want children!"

"Well, of course, they would be a joy" he replied. "But I've seen too many women and men in unhappy marriages because of children, or the lack of"

"But it is my duty"

Brandon hated that word and how she used it. "You owe me nothing Marianne" he replied. "Not one thing"

"I can't seem to give you children" she urged. "That is my duty as your wife isn't it?"

"No it is not" he replied. "Whatever would happen if I became the reason we would be childless?"

Marianne paused. "I am young and able. It would be my fault"

"Says whom?" he asked. "We are not half a year married, we can afford to wait"

"But I want so much to make you happy" she cried.

"Marianne, waking up beside you in the morning, walking the gardens with you, hearing you sing whilst I write. These things make me the happiest of men"

"And a child would not?"

"Children are a blessing but not for everyone," he added. "I never had it in my mind to marry-until my eyes saw you. Everything in our lives is susceptible to change"

"But everything you have built and done will be left to no one"

"Beth is my heir in the present time," he added. "All will go to her and now of course yourself"

"Will she not grow to hate me more now I could take it away from her and her son?" cried Marianne.

"The feud will not last forever," he assured. "With age will come wisdom"

She was rather unconvinced but the subject of her speech changed. "You never told me what was in that letter"

Brandon sighed. "Did I not?"

"No" she replied. "You didn't"

"And you desire to know the contents?"

"Of course, you seemed so startled!"

"It is not a subject for now" he concluded, "The morning will be best"

Marianne had not the strength to argue, sighing she turned away from him.

Brandon noticed, "I have offended you?"

"No" she replied. "I turned for comfort"

He nodded and tried to rest, disliking the distance between them.

Despite his urge to move closer, he did not, especially as she soon had drifted to sleep.


I thought a picnic at Delaford was long overdue, I hope you enjoyed the trip to the seaside.

It is quite a common trait I've seen to make Marianne susceptible to various conditions, especially to do with reproduction and menstruation. It is not going to be a recurring issue as I feel that would almost copy some stories I have seen before, which is obviously bad writing and a lack of imagination on my part. This particular piece of the storyline will take a different course which I will address at the start of the next chapter as it will contain warnings.

As always, please feel free to leave a review, as simply or one-worded as you chose. :)

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Sarah x