I've only been home at the cottage a few days when I hear Margaret shout out. She's been glued to the window in her bedroom as always.
"Someone's coming! Someone's coming! It's...Colonel Brandon!"
My mother and Elinor hop up and clean up the living room. Edward is not around to see this; he's right now looking for the perfect house for he and Elinor. He will be the parson for all the local estates, thanks to Colonel Brandon.
His beautiful white thoroughbred comes into view and he jumps down, seemingly much younger than he is, his hands full.
"Looks like he brought you something. Again", Elinor teases. I roll my eyes.
He knocks and we call him in. He hands me a bouquet of my favorites—pale pink peonies. "These are nearly out of season, how did you manage it?", I ask, sniffing them. "How do you know they're my favorite?"
"I had a chat or two with your mother. My greenhouse can make miracles happen", he says in his rumbly baritone that makes me want to disappear in his arms and never be seen again.
"Thank you", I say, smiling.
Mother calls for Thomas, and the Colonel underloads an armful of game and garden vegetables into his hands.
"Thank you, Colonel, but I want to make sure you know we're not starving", Mother jokes.
"Of course not, but for your larder...the health of your family is my most vital concern", he says, nodding at her.
"I think you're the most talented hunter we've ever met", Mother adds and he colors.
"Twenty years in the army, mum, if I missed what I pointed at often, I would have been sent home", he jokes, and everyone laughs.
"Please call me "Mother", my own says, "As you no longer have yours."
I think I see a tear as I watch him in amazement.
"I will be so proud to call you my brother", Elinor adds, throwing her arms around him.
He can't hide the tears any longer. "I just...my family was...different. We did not often show affection." I understand it was far worse than that, but he is not a man to carry on about sorrows as I do. He's entirely circumspect about nearly everything.
"May I take a short walk with your daughter?", he asks Mother. "I know it's not yet proper to be without a chaperone, but I hope you know there is nothing that could keep me from marrying your daughter."
My mother smiles and shakes her head in awe. "She's been alone at your house, Colonel, with only servants, besides, yes we all know how you feel about my daughter. I've rarely seen anything like it."
Flushing bright red, he nods at her, takes my hand, and we go out the door.
He kisses my hand immediately. "I'm so sorry, my dear, that I could not come with you the other day. I still have more business to conclude, but could not stay away from you long." He takes my hands and looks like my eyes. "WHEN, Marianne? When may we marry? When can I bring you home?" He kisses both my hands together.
"Colonel..."
"Christopher", he corrects.
"Christopher. At least some time must be taken. We must notify our friends and family. I must have a dress made..."
"Have you begun the process?", he asks desperately, and I can't help but laugh.
"Just yesterday, but yes, I have...I don't ask for anything fanciful or expensive. It should be done quickly", I assure him.
"Marianne, don't say such things. You must have whatever you desire, and I am happy to pay the seamstress as much as it takes to get it sooner. I suppose we must give the invited time to respond."
"We do. But we don't honestly expect many more than our local friends", I say.
I consider a moment.
"I sent an invitation to my brother and Fanny, though we certainly don't expect them. She's on her mother's side, and Mrs. Ferras will set foot nowhere either of her sons is to be found. Sadly for her, she has no more of them to disinherit."
He laughs. "Such a mother as would disinherit a son who was honorable enough to keep a promise from his youth...much less when he had already fallen in love with your sister, and stood to lose such a fortune in doing so...but..."
He rubs his forehead. "We're again speaking of others. I look forward to seeing Edward at the pulpit, and before that, I hope he will marry us. But I don't wish to discuss others, not even your sweet sister. Marianne, I would not rush you, but have mercy on an old soldier..."
"Christopher! Stop calling yourself that!" I take his hands and kiss them, and he bursts into a bright grin.
"Have mercy on your future husband. I long to take you home, Marianne. I can think of nothing else. The thought of you torments me day and night. I can barely concentrate on my affairs...I don't believe I can be settled until you're mine."
"Always such discipline, such finely tuned self-control", I whisper, squeezing his hands, "And now look at you."
He flushes pink. "You are my weakness", he rumbles, and holds me against him, "I've always been your servant. Be mine soon."
"I will be. And you will be mine", I answer, standing on my tip toes to kiss him lightly on the lips.
"I was yours the first moment I saw you."
Two weeks later sees the dress nearly finished. I was thrilled to know some of Papa's old friends were coming to the wedding. Mother was in tears over their loyalty to her, risking the wrath of John and Fanny.
I'm playing the pianoforte at Delaford while Christopher is outside with his hawk, Athena. Maybe it is the solider in him, but there's some part of his personality that deeply enjoys hunting things down, and he admires those who are good at it, even a hawk.
When I finish, I can't wait to get some fresh air outside. As I walk outside, a carriage rattles up. Christopher hands the hawk to a servant and jogs to greet the man who steps out.
"Pinney, good to see you. And here she is...my fiancé, Miss Marianne Dashwood, this is Alaistair Pinney, my lawyer."
"Miss Dashwood, it's an honor", he bows.
"Mr. Pinney", I nod.
"I need to meet with Pinney for about an hour", Christopher tells me, "Amuse yourself however you like, and we will walk together later."
"Oh, your will shouldn't take that long", Pinney corrects, "Your brother left Delaford a disaster, but you've cleaned it up completely. There should be no issues."
"Your will?! Christopher...what is the meaning of this?", I insist.
He glares at Mr. Pinney.
"Calm yourself, my sweet, I'm perfectly fine. But I'm about to be a married man and I need to be responsible. Your happiness will be entirely in my hands, and I've seen too many...nevermind. I just want to make sure Delaford and my fortune are securely in your possession and not left to some great grand-nephew somewhere I've never heard of. I will trust you to take care of Beth."
"Of course you can", I respond. He squeezes my hands. "That's my girl. This will be quick." Responsible. It hasn't been a word used often in my own vocabulary.