Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 3
Edward was fidgeting by the altar. He had been fidgeting all morning and not even a sip from Brandon's hip flask had really calmed his demeanour.
"The love of your life is about to walk over and tell you and everyone here that she wants to spend her life with you, why does that make you so nervous?" Brandon had asked when they had been getting ready at Barton earlier.
"I think it's just that, the whole life thing." Edward had answered. Brandon had looked a little astonished. Wasn't it a little late to start questioning your willingness to commit to relationship?
"I don't mean it like that!" Edward had gasped in exasperation.
"What I mean is, really, how can I ask her to tie herself to me like this? What if she grows tired of me?"
It was at this point that the Colonel's hip flask had come out.
"She loves you, Ferrars, I can see it in everything that she is and does. And you love her. How can you not want to ask her to tie herself to you when you know that is how she truly feels? There are no real certainties or guarantees, that's probably true, but I'm quite certain the odds here are in the favour of your marrying her. It is absolutely certain that you would both be miserable without each other."
Edward was astounded at Brandon's speech for two reasons. Firstly, his logic made odd sense. The little bit of uncertainty he felt over whether he would really be able to keep Elinor happy for the rest of her days was a much better choice than the full certainty that they simply would not be happy at all if they were not together. The other thing that astounded him was that he was not quite sure if he'd ever heard Brandon make a statement that long and absolutely not on such a topic. Edward then remembered they were alone in the room and Brandon wasn't at all as reserved in such settings as he was in larger company.
"Thank you, Brandon," Edward had simply said. But he hadn't stopped fidgeting. He was now thinking ahead to becoming a husband and the duties that entailed. The word made him laugh: duties. What could bring a man more joy than embracing the wife he loved? And so he was nervous again: what was a man supposed to do.
"Now what?" Brandon had asked. Edward sighed in despair.
"Sometimes I so wish my father hadn't died when he did. I don't think he quite got to explain how the world works to me. Not enough, anyways. I mean, after the wedding, and the reception: I'm already bursting with joy thinking about going to our home together with Elinor, but then what?" Edward was pacing the room at this point and his borderline panic made Brandon smile at the younger man.
"I'll not offer you the advice my father gave my brother and myself for I have since learned that he was quite wrong. But would you like me to share with you the few things I have managed to learn about the 'then what' part?" Brandon offered. He wasn't quite sure why he was offering to talk about this, but it had to be something rather endearing about his young friend's discomfort.
"Would you?" Edward asked, almost begging.
Brandon sighed, not quite sure how to phrase it all. He had left home a bitter young man who had been denied what he thought then the love of his life. There was to be no true love left for him anywhere so he might as well take his pleasure with ladies of lesser repute. He had been lucky to meet one who took pity on a hurt young lad and didn't laugh at him. She had also talked a bit of sense into him before irreversibly made a complete arse of himself.
"What I know, basically, is that when it comes to…erm… intimacy, women appreciate just that: intimacy. It's between her and you and it is your duty to learn what she likes and show her in your every action how much you care and respect her. The joy and release is best when shared." Brandon practically muttered, struggling to find reasonable wording for what he was trying to convey. The younger man would simply have to work it out from there. In all honesty, that was the extent of Brandon's knowledge. He had been saved from himself by a kind soul who had herself lost a chance to live within the so-called better society but who had not lost the civilized and caring soul she had.
Edward had nodded in silent agreement that this was probably about as much as he was prepared to talk about this particular topic, and continued pacing. And later in the day, standing in the chapel, he kept fingering his cuffs and wiping his palms onto his trousers in his nervousness. Yet, the moment Elinor's silhouette appeared against the daylight of the open chapel door the fidgeting stopped. Brandon smiled: he had half expected this to happen. Edward was simply nervous about the procedure, the public display he and Elinor had to take part in. The moment she was with him all doubts and fears disappeared and Edward knew exactly why he was standing where he was.
Elinor had no one to give her away. Her brother had made some poor excuses for why he and his wife could not make it to Barton just that time, but as much had been expected after all the fuss that had been made over Edward becoming an outcast to his own family. Se walked in with her sister just a step behind her shoulder and Edward was not the only one whose breath caught and heart missed a beat. Brandon lost track of the man he was supposed to be supporting here when he saw Marianne walking down the aisle with Elinor. Not that he paid all that much attention to Elinor either. Marianne had a new dress, in colours that were picked to match the highlights and decorations in Elinor's dress.
Very tasteful, overall, Brandon thought, but what really made his heart leap was seeing Marianne wearing a genuine smile. An expression of happiness for her sister really radiated from her and could be seen in her eyes as well. She looked as much as herself as he had seen in months: beautiful inside and out.
For just a few fleeting moments Brandon allowed himself the luxury of picturing a day when he would be standing in Edward's place and it was Marianne approaching him down the aisle. Should that day ever come, it would be when her eyes would sparkle like that more often than not and when he knew that they sparkled for him as he was.
Brandon was oblivious to it, but he was not alone with his thoughts. Two steps behind her sister's shoulder, Marianne had seen the Colonel, in his red tunic standing behind Edward. What had she ever thought thinking he was plain? He was attractive beyond description. Edward was the groom but as far as Marianne was concerned it was Colonel Brandon whose presence filled the chapel. Did she have a weak spot for men in uniform? She didn't think so, and this had to mean she simply had a weak spot for Colonel Brandon in uniform. Then, in one amazing moment time stopped when Marianne's eyes met Brandon's. Brandon got caught in her eyes and was not able to break the contact. Marianne felt the contact immediately and absolutely did not want to break it: he was not indifferent after all! But then the moment passed, he averted his eyes and focused on the ceremony leaving Marianne full of questions.
After the ceremony the wedding party moved to Barton. Marianne and Colonel Brandon escorted the newlyweds to their carriage, and Brandon once again could not help himself but daydreamed for a fraction of a moment when he found himself walking out of the chapel next to Marianne behind the happy couple. He wanted to extend his arm to her and be her escort. Brandon expected to be taking a carriage to Barton with the Middletons, but suddenly found himself being ushered, by Sir John, into one of the small carriages where Mrs Jennings had already organized the remaining Dashwood sisters to sit.
Brandon climbed in, seeing he was in no position to argue and make a fuss, and helped Mrs Dashwood on board as well. The carriage took off and he found himself seated opposite Marianne, next to Mrs Dashwood. Marianne smiled a little, then averted her eyes to the side, blushing. "What was that all about?" Brandon wandered. Miss Margaret and Mrs Dashwood were talking about the ceremony and how lovely it had all been and Brandon had to work overtime to move his focus from Marianne alone to listen what Mrs Dashwood and Miss Margaret were saying. Was Marianne struggling like he was? Brandon wondered but was glad to have cocked his ear to the conversation as he was suddenly drawn in by Margaret.
"Edward looked very nervous, was he?" Margaret asked. Edward was still a very special friend to her, like a wonderful big brother, really. Brandon let out a light laugh. Edward had been so obvious.
"Yes, I'm afraid he was quite nervous. But only until Elinor stepped in, mind," he said. With that he had to steal another look at Marianne. How he longed to tell her about his own feelings when he had seen her enter behind her sister!
"What about Elinor, Marianne, was Elinor nervous?" Margaret asked. Marianne seemed to snap out of her timid shell and laughed. She thought about Elinor fretting with her dress and her flowers and everything possible.
"Yes, she was nervous, too."
"How strange," mused Margaret. When the others looked at her with hopes for an explanation, she continued:
"Well, everyone knows they're terribly in love with each other and have been waiting to be together for such a long time already, and when it's time to get married so that they could finally be together, they're both nervous."
The others laughed warm-heartedly at this. Margaret's summaries of what grown-ups did were often accurate and insightful.
"Well, that's probably why they were a bit nervous," Brandon offered, and continued:
"To finally achieve and receive something you have so longed for is a momentous occasion and changes your life forever. It would be super-human not to be a little nervous, don't you think?"
Marianne's eyes were like glued onto Colonel Brandon when he talked. The man radiated peace and tranquillity and safety and warmth and, dare she even think of it, desire. Mrs Dashwood saw how Marianne looked at the man sitting next to her, and once again scalded herself for being so easily fooled by the man's character. She had, through it all, liked Brandon well enough, but had been sucked into the frivolous air of fun that Mr Willoughby brought with him. And all the time it was Colonel Brandon who had the strength of character and the kind of loyalty and sense of honour a true gentleman was made of. Mrs Dashwood had also began to appreciate that the man was actually quite charming when he was given the opportunity to be so, never mind quite attractive, too.
Mrs Dashwood had been in on the seating arrangements for the wedding breakfast and already anticipate the positive steps that may come from Sir John, Mrs Jennings and herself agreeing that somehow Colonel Brandon and Marianne would be seated next to each other, opposite the newlyweds. Upon arrival Brandon helped his companions off the carriage, working as hard as he could not to take advantage of the small opportunity he had to touch Marianne. He took her by the hand, just like he had Miss Margaret and Mrs Dashwood, and helped her step down. She was fine stepping down, but Brandon had still been tempted to take hold of her by her waist to stop her from tripping. How pathetic, he scalded himself.
The small wedding party filed in in their carriages one after another to Barton where champagne was served. Edward and Elinor had slipped into one of the smaller rooms for a moment to catch their breath and to have a moment alone, and when they stepped out to join everyone, they were received with cheers and hurrah calls with congratulations and many toasts. The party was perhaps small, but it was a happy and friendly gathering without too much pompous posing, which made both Edward and Elinor very happy. What a joyous day!