Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 15
Two months had gone without a word from Brandon. Marianne had wept, as quietly and in secret as she could, most every evening and other times if left to her own devices. The letter Brandon had left her had been read to shreds and she carried it with her any time she left Barton Cottage. It had become a talisman of sorts, a way of making sure the practical arrangements Brandon had listed would not have to see the light of day. She would keep it all to her self and that way they would never be needed. She knew there was no rhyme or reason to her thinking but she could not help herself.
Sir John had been in touch with all his contacts at the regiment with hopes of getting some news to Marianne. He was also trying to come up with activities and distractions for the young lady. Any time Sir John made a visit to Delaford to have a word with Brandon's butler and check on the horses, he took his carriage and dropped by at the cottage to see if Miss Marianne and Miss Margaret would join him for a little trip. The young ladies had continued their riding classes a few times on these day trips, but as much fun riding was, Marianne just could not shake herself out of her worry and sadness. Sir John had not heard anything yet.
Marianne had also taken to visit her sister Elinor as often as possible, just to get a change of scenery. As usual, Elinor was able to comfort and calm her and had assured Marianne that she was welcome to stay with her and Edward as much as she liked. Not wanting to make a nuisance of herself, Marianne took to taking long walks again so that she'd be out of Elinor's house for a good part of the day. She didn't even tell Elinor, but another source of comfort to her was to roam around Delaford estate.
On the various paths and trails she would think if this was where Colonel Brandon came out riding. At any lovely view she stopped to admire the natural beauty and wondered if Colonel Brandon did the same. There were places she remembered from when she had been riding with the Colonel and Margaret, looking for the picnic spot. More than once she had walked over to the picnic spot itself and spent some time right where they had had their first kiss. The memory of that kiss, or the one they shared just before he left, had not left her. She'd read his letter again and again, not able to stop tears from falling. How could he even begin to think that she would forget about him just because he had to go away for a while? And why was he so convinced he'd not return?
Today, when she returned to Elinor and Edward, there was a carriage outside. Sir John was inside, sitting with the Ferrars, all of them sitting there all quiet and awkward.
"Marianne!" Elinor gasped as Marianne stepped in. Marianne could only look from Elinor to Sir John to Edward and back to Elinor: what was going on?
"What is it?" Marianne asked. Elinor exchanged an awkward look with Sir John, but there was no way out, they had to tell Marianne.
"Sir John received a letter from Colonel Brandon's regiment in Cadiz," Elinor started.
The seriousness of everyone's demeanour did not allow Marianne for one moment to think the news might be good.
"Oh God, what is it, tell me," she pleaded, colour starting to drain from her cheeks. Her breathing started to get heavy and the longer the silence stretched out the closer she was to panic.
"Shh, child, it's not impossibly bad. But not entirely good either," Sir John jumped in to calm Marianne down a bit. He could see that the girl had started to fear the worst.
"The letter. It got here through the continent and then across the channel and it has taken some time to get here. So we really do not know what the situation is at this moment." Sir John continued.
"The situation?" Marianne was not quite able to formulate complete questions.
"A friend of mine at the regiment here got a message through to the troops in service to send us some information about what they are involved in, and, specifically, Brandon's unit."
Elinor took Marianne's arm and gently pulled her to the settee to sit down next to her. Elinor held Marianne's hand while Sir John repeated the news.
"I'm afraid they had to go straight to the battlefield when they got to Cadiz. Hardly had any time to get used to the climate or even let their horses get used to being on dry land again after the crossing. They took some heavy casualties, I'm afraid, and the young officer who wrote the letter says he found both Colonel Brandon and that Captain Williams, who came to collect him here, at the field hospital. He doesn't know how serious the injuries are to either of them. Brandon had been asleep when he was found. Then the letter had to be sent off and that is all we know. "
Marianne was calmer now than a moment ago when she thought Brandon had surely died, everyone being so solemn. Calmer, but not without worry or fear.
"Oh God – let him be alright," she whispered, a single tear escaping from one eye. She turned to Elinor.
"Oh dear God I don't know what I'll do if he is not alright," Marianne's words still came out as whisper and Elinor could see how hard Marianne fought not to collapse.
"Shh… Dearest, all we know is that he was alive when the letter was sent and until we hear any more there is no reason to assume that there's any change. And the man has so much to fight for to give up. He will pull himself out of it, I'm sure." Elinor tried to comfort her sister.
This was bad. Brandon's fears had not been exaggerated and now Marianne had no way of knowing what his condition was. Had he been badly injured? When would they send him back here if he was alright to for the crossing? What if he was badly injured and the worst had happened, only she wouldn't know? Endless questions and worries kept rushing through Marianne's mind. During their courting she had already committed herself to him. Fully and for eternity. He had become a part of her, his presence completed her and made her very soul happy. To lose that would be cruel. For him not to have a chance at happiness and love was even more cruel.
The rest of the day and the evening passed in a kind of a haze, but Marianne decided to pull herself together and show the kind of resolution and strength that she so admired in Colonel Brandon: she would not accept anything more than the letter had said. Elinor was correct: until they'd hear otherwise, Christopher Brandon had received some injury but was recovering at a hospital, and that was that. There was no reason to alert his solicitor or to change the way his estate was running. Life would go on exactly as it had been doing so far, and eventually there would be more information.
Marianne's decision to put a brave face on worked quite well. No one dared to start speculating about Brandon's fate if Marianne was within earshot, everyone learned quickly to keep to the facts: injured, not dead. Only Elinor and Margaret really noticed how the underlying fear gradually turned to dread and faith in the Colonel's wellbeing started to turn to denial. Denial of the chance that making it to a field hospital alive did not guarantee anyone leaving the hospital equally alive. Elinor and Margaret both noticed how Marianne started to shy away from company and gatherings again. She still walked her long walks, alone, still read and played music, but the joy that had emerged in her after Colonel Brandon had asked to court her was rapidly beginning to fade.
As more time passed, the quieter Marianne became and the more often she was seen trying to wipe away any sign of tears. She would still visit Elinor and Edward, but no longer took to walking around Delaford: all the places she had been to, daydreaming of enjoying the spots with Brandon, imagining her Brandon there, dreaming of a future with him now seemed to intensify her fears. What if that will never be? It had been another month since Sir John brought the news.
Late summer was turning into autumn and Marianne had opted not to follow her mother to Barton in favour of having a bit of time to herself at the cottage. She and Margaret busied themselves picking the apples from their one apple tree. Margaret chattering along without a break, Marianne not really listening to any of it. Her days were spent in this odd fog now, as if her soul was a lantern turned down to the dimmest of flames, preserving itself until more news came. On this afternoon, Mrs Dashwood had gone to join Mrs Jennings for a luncheon and the two girls were alone at the cottage. Event their two servants were out for the afternoon and the balmy afternoon air with the golden sun calmed Marianne's aching heart as much as anything.
Margaret saw him first. Red officer's tunic practically glowing in the golden sun as the man came from around the corner of the cottage, seeing if anyone was home.
"Marianne!" Margaret exclaimed, jumping down from her ladder. Marianne was still holding the basket as she turned around and it took a small eternity for the recognition to sink in. She gasped, unable to speak.
"Marianne?" he asked, and Marianne dropped to her knees, close to fainting: Christopher!
"Marianne, are you alright?" he became concerned when he saw her drop onto her knees then slumped further so she was sitting on the grass. Brandon rushed to Marianne's side, not really caring that his ribs were still hurting.
Brandon caught Marianne in his arms as he, too, sat on the grass. She looked at him as if in some kind of stupor, not believing what she was seeing.
"Is that really you?" is all she could ask. She reached for his cheek, knowing that if she could touch him perhaps he was real. Brandon let out a laugh. Marianne looked so overwhelmed but at the same time happy to see him.
"Yes, it's me. Are you alright dearest?"
"How are you suddenly here? All we heard was that you were hurt… Oh my, Christopher, are you alright? Are you hurt?" she was beginning to get a grasp of reality now. It really was Christopher Brandon sitting on the lawn next to him. They were holding each other in a way probably not very appropriate, but young Margaret didn't give a hoot. She just stood there with wide eyes.
"It's ok, it's ok, my dear, I'll be just fine. I'm sorry there wasn't a chance to write. They put me on the next ship back to England when I recovered a bit and once we got here I had to come straight to you. I did promise after all." Brandon was stroking Marianne's cheek gently with his hand as he spoke to her, his eyes intently on hers.
"I had to come to you, my love. I have to ask you straight away or I'll not get peace," his voice was not much more than a whisper now, already almost pleading with her to give him the answer he hoped for. He'd been away for months, made her wait.
"Yes, Christopher. If you still want me, I'm yours." Marianne answered the question she well remembered he had promised to ask her first thing.