Chapter Four

Colonel Brandon's London flat was situated on a quiet cobblestone street, away from the centres of gossip and marketplace activity; virtually everything Mrs. Jennings and her party had expressly come for. Not Marianne. She had come for her sister, to do everything in her power to promote Elinor's happiness since her own was so entirely ruined. Perhaps even now she came to Colonel Brandon for the sake of the same. Had her error marked only herself for desolation she might have returned to her mother to languish away, but she could not be a blight on Elinor's chance at a respectable and loving union with Edward. If there was any hope of such a union now, she knew she had best find a way to remove herself from the society of those she loved best in all the world; her mother and sisters.

Such were her thoughts as she and Elinor were ushered in. Such was her determination as they stood before the doorway that would lead to Colonel Brandon. She could bear any humiliation, any reproach, any look or word of revulsion, so long as by the end of it there was still hope for her sister.

"I should like to speak with him alone, dear Elinor."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, quite certain."

"Very well. I will wait just outside for you if you've need of me."

"Dear, sweet Elinor," she said a little wistfully, letting her gloved hand linger a moment within the safe keeping of her sister's grasp before letting the servant show her in.

Colonel Brandon was expecting them, yet he gave a slight start as she entered, almost as if he was uncertain of how to receive her. He inclined his head in the same gentlemanly and formal way he had always done, yet there was something distracted—nervous, even, in his demeanour as he bid her sit. Despite the distressing nature of their interview, Marianne was not blind to the richness of her surroundings. The magnitude of his wealth must be great indeed if this was the state of his rarely used apartment.

She was surprised by how steady her voice was at the start. "Thank you, Colonel, for your prompt reply to my sister's letter."

Here, he stopped her with a brusque wave of his hand. "No. No thanks, please, I beg you. Your coming here today is just as I would have wished. I am thankful Miss Dashwood asked my counsel, for I was anxious to be of service even before I knew you might desire it."

This was a surprising revelation to Marianne, though not at all an unwelcome one. His assurances were puzzling, yet they bolstered her confidence in speaking more openly to him. "Elinor has told me of your kindness in regards to the woman who was... sorely used by Mr. Willoughby. I know I have no right to ask it of you; you are under no obligation whatever..." here her voice threatened to break and she struggled to go on as before, "But I find myself in a similar situation and I am forced to plead for your help. I do not ask for money!" she added with haste, "Only some advice on where I should go. How I might hide away for a time until I may perhaps return to my mother without anyone knowing... Perhaps I could work in a milliner's shop, or find some respectable employ under the guise of being a widow. I am not too proud. I only seek to keep this stain from polluting my family's good name and destroying my sisters' prospects."

"Miss Marianne," the Colonel replied, a deep frown setting his features quite grim, "Your sister was unable to relate your situation in full due to the delicate nature of certain subjects. So although I may have my suspicions, I am not fully aware..." He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. "That is to say... Are you with child?"

She nodded piteously. "Confirmed only two days ago." The tears began to trickle down her cheeks and she was too tired even to reach her handkerchief to her eyes. The weariness was beyond anything she had ever felt. It was akin to hopelessness, and she frightened herself with the emptiness it wrought.

He moved several paces behind his desk, eventually stopping with his back turned to her. He breathed a heavy sigh before turning round again.

"I know of no place where you might go without being recognised, unless it is far away in some hidden corner of the countryside. You could not work in your condition, nor would I have you do so. If I am to help you... and I mean to, certainly, I will not have you risk your own health by putting you in a workhouse. Nor will I further damage your reputation by placing you somewhere you might be discovered. However..." He chose his words carefully; guarded and precise even with such a distasteful subject to be discussed, "Though the utmost care would be used in discretion, if it is found out that it was by my efforts you were secured a living, your sisters might still be ruined as society does not look kindly on... kept women."

"Oh," she stopped him short with an exclamation, "I could not have you give me a home and a living! Not only for the hurt it would cause my family, but for your sake as well! I do not expect, nor even ask for anything more than counsel. Of course, I will never speak of this conversation to another living soul! You must not imagine me such a base creature as that."

Though he was frowning still, she did not think it a look of repulsion or anger. "If you will not accept a living from me, I see only one solution. We must marry at once, before your condition begins to reveal itself."

The silence that followed was not only long, but palpable.

"Colonel Brandon, I did not think you a jesting man."

"I assure you I speak in the greatest sincerity."

At this, Marianne lost all control of her emotions. Though she struggled to maintain her composure, the confusion was too great, the offer too incredible, and the onslaught of tears was overwhelming.

"Please, do not distress yourself, Miss Marianne. I am well aware that this marriage is not by any means what you would have desired for yourself, but rest assured that under my protection and care you will want for nothing, in comfort at least."

She hadn't the fortitude to explain her outburst. She was not distressed over the prospect of being the Colonel's wife, but the unthinkable kindness that he now extended to her. He did not even know the circumstances of her degradation but was willing still to attach her to his name, title, and fortunes in order to save her family from scandal. It was beyond all reason; beyond any contrivance of aid she could have hoped for.

"Colonel, I promise it is not from apprehension of being attached to you in such a permanent way that causes my distress. But you cannot know how thankful I am. The debt I owe you is one of such profound... I do not understand it! Indeed, I do not deserve it!"

"There are many things in this world we are not deserving of, Miss Marianne. If we all received our just desserts, I venture to say not a fellow alive would be happy."

"I will not be a nuisance! I will be the quietest, most unobtrusive wife to you."

"I ask for no such conditions. Please, do not burden yourself with worry. I only ask that you take your rest in the expanse of Delaford. It will allow you to be near your family without the exposure of scandal."

"How can I ever...?"

"Please." The Colonel seemed greatly troubled by her expressions of thanks and put her off from them as best he was able. "I will hear no more on debt or gratitude. I am not... a young man, Miss Marianne, and I find my disposition is not suitable to the romantic pursuits necessary for the wooing of ladies." At this, Marianne turned crimson, knowing how ardently she would have supported such a view mere weeks ago. "I do, however, still desire to establish a family for myself, and though you may not at first think of me in the way of a husband, I confess there is no other lady I would rather grace my estate. You cannot be... entirely unaware of my fondness for you, and I find it difficult to conceive of a man contemptible enough to abandon his..." He faltered, overcome by some emotion Marianne could not perceive. "But he has done it before, and I will have no more of your proffered thanks. I am not without gain in this situation, and you must forgive the selfish motives which urge me to this conclusion."

"Colonel Brandon, I cannot allow that there is any need for forgiveness. Whatever your gain in our union, it can be precious little in comparison to the immense burden you are undertaking!"

The slight widening of his smile evidenced his amusement. "Do you seek to dissuade me from this venture by your self-disparaging? Or am I meant to confess the boorish quality of my nature along with other deficiencies in exchange for trifling ones of your own? Let us not quarrel over which of us is the worse qualified to enter into matrimony, Miss Marianne. My vast years of experience give me an unfair advantage to the debate."

Marianne's eyes furrowed suspiciously. "You are teasing me, I think. I have never been able to respond to clever people with the proper tact called for, so you must forgive me if I defer. Elinor is much more suited to an exchange of wits during a crisis."

"Are you cross with me, Miss Marianne?"

The lady's blush deepened and she dipped her head in apology. "I am sorry. I promised not to be troublesome, and already I am provoking a quarrel."

"And I have already told you it was an unnecessary promise; one I will not hold you to." He turned the subject as her expression continued to convey her mortification. "Still, I think we should conclude the matter here. Your sister awaits you, does she not?"

"Yes, poor Elinor! I had almost forgotten her!"

This only furthered her distress, much to the Colonel's chagrin who hastened to lead her outside, but Marianne stopped him before the door. "If you will not accept my gratitude in words, at least accept this," she requested as she extended her hand most elegantly. "I know we are not gentlemen striking a business arrangement, but it would give me some peace of mind to join hands in an amiable manner."

He took it then, blinking and hesitant at first, but softening as his large, roughened hand encompassed hers entirely. He applied to it the faintest of pressure, and something very like a smile moved at the corner of his mouth. Seeming to come to himself he suddenly released it and said, "We should not keep Miss Dashwood waiting."

Though Marianne had done her utmost to maintain a level of composure since the beginning of their interview, her emotions were thoroughly wrung by the end of the matter, and seeing the thinly veiled anxiety of Elinor's features while considering the life she had narrowly escaped made the method of her rescue all the more poignant.

"Oh, Elinor!" she cried, and bursting into tears anew, flung herself into her arms, weeping into her shoulder.

"Whatever is the matter?" Elinor looked to the Colonel for an answer, utterly confounded.

Stoic as ever, he did not answer her directly but rather gave orders as one still commanding his officers. "Miss Dashwood, would you be so good as to stand witness? I intend to ask Sir John to accompany us with all haste and secrecy."

"I will do whatever you ask if it will help Marianne, but I cannot understand you. You wish me to stand witness for what occasion?"

"Our wedding," he answered gruffly. "I have asked, and Miss Marianne has agreed to marry me."