A few days later, I was surprise when Gerard announced that Colonel Brandon was here, and wished to speak with me. I set the book I had been reading aside on a nearby table, and nervously fixed any flyaway hairs and the skirts of my dress while I walked downstairs to meet the colonel in the lobby. "Good afternoon, Colonel!" I greeted the man warmly, and was silently overjoyed to see him smile when he saw me.
"Good afternoon, Miss Jensen, I hope you are well, and that you can forgive my intrusion. I have come here to issue an invitation," he replied as he took of his hat.
"Yes?"
"A picnic at my home," he announced.
"A picnic...at Delaford?!" I asked with incredulous anticipation.
"Yes, and I hope that you agree to attend.'
"I would be-" I began, meeting his ensnaring hazel eyes with my brown.
"-Run, Aunt Kiley, it's a renegade soldier!" Ayden cried out. He charged towards Colonel Brandon with a wooden practice sword in hand, and swung it at the colonel's side.
The colonel dodged the strike with uncanny ease, and ended up behind me. "I am afraid to inform you that I have the upper hand," Colonel Brandon chuckled, slipping into his assumed character with ease.
"Do no fear, Aunt Kiley, I will save you from this villain!"
"James, sweetie, I am all right- I promise. This man here is my very good friend, Colonel Brandon, and he is a guest," I explained with well-practice patience.
"Colonel?" Ayden asked eagerly, then snapped to attention. "Forgive me, sir!" he barked out, and saluted the colonel.
To my amusement, the colonel returned my nephew's salute, and replied, "Carry on, soldier." As Ayden dashed away, he mused, "A fine young man he will become." He turned to look at me and repeated, "Will you attend the picnic, Miss Jensen?"
"We would be delighted to attend, sir!" Marci answered in my stead as she walked in from the door that connected to her rooms. She curtsied flawlessly and gave the colonel a beautiful smile, "Hello, sir, my name is Lady Marci Davenport, pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said.
Colonel Brandon bowed and replied, "Good afternoon, my name is Colonel Christopher Brandon. You must be one of Miss Jensen's older sisters."
"I am," Marci agreed, and then looked to me, "Sister, you must excuse me, but I need to go check on the baby."
Colonel Brandon and I were once again alone, and I peeked at his handsome face from beneath my lashes; he watched my sister leave, then spoke, "Miss Jensen, is it true that you are a writer?"
I blanched violently and stammered, "My pieces are anything b-but extraordinary, Colonel. Who, i-if I may inquire, w-was the one who told you?"
"Well it was two people, in fact, I was first alerted by young Margaret Dashwood when I had inquired about the book that she was avidly reading. Then shortly thereafter, Elinor confirmed her sister's compliments-"
"-Elinor read the story too?" I interjected in an incredulous whisper. I buried my face in my hands, and vigorously shook my head.
Gentle hands wrapped about my wrists and pulled my hands away. "Miss Jensen, it was not my intention to embarrass you, I merely wanted to ascertain the Dashwood's information," he said softly, his unique voice gently soothing my troubled mind. "And perhaps, you would permit me to read one of your pieces?" At my look of complete mortification, he smiled and retracted his last inquiry.
"Forgive my refusal, sir, but I have never intended to share any of my writings," I explained faintly.
"That is quite all right, Miss Jensen, I do not hold it against you," he murmured, and gave me a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, and then said, "I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Jensen, and I hope you have a good day." He bowed and then departed.
I leaned against the wall with a sigh, and tried to rein in my frantic heartbeats. I smiled faintly at the recollection of how well the colonel reacted to my nephew's assault, and muffled my laughter with a hand. I went into my chambers, and instinctively made my way to the desk in my study. The blank pages of a recently purchases leather- bound journal sang its siren call; I slid into the chair, and picked up the quill. The words once again took possession of my hand, and they began to consume the page like fire. I continued to write until the sun began to dip behind the horizon, and when I set the quill down, I fell into a slight, dazed sleep.
"Aunt Kiley, Grandmama says it is time for dinner," James informed me from the doorway.
"Coming," I murmured- my thoughts still on Colonel Brandon.
The next day, I found myself in a frenzied state as I attempted to get ready for the picnic at Delaford. Anna laid out dress after dress, but I could not come to a decision. "Begging your pardon, Miss, but might I make a suggestion?" she finally inquired, albeit hesitantly.
"Of course, Anna, I need all the help that can be offered!" I exclaimed.
"I suggest the cream one there," she said, and pointed to the aforementioned dress. Without a word, she eased me into the dress, and pushed me down into my chair in front of my vanity. Anna carefully brushed out my hair until it fell to my hips in dark brown waves. With dexterous fingers, Anna braided my hair into a French plait along my skull, and then with the tendrils, she twisted them into a bun that rested at the back of my head.
"Thank you, Anna," I smiled at her reflection, "You certainly make my life much easier and therefore, bearable."
She blushed and made incoherent stammers; in the end, she merely bowed her head and gave me a bashful smile. "The colonel is a very lucky man, Miss," she murmured. This time, I was the one who blushed, and rose to my feet.
"Oh, Kiley, you look beautiful!" my mother exclaimed breathlessly, and she looked to my older sister and asked, "What do you think, Marci?"
My sister's calculating azure eyes fell upon me, and I felt like an insect under a scientist's magnifying glass. She made a noncommittal noise in her throat, and came up to me. She reached up and pulled two strands out of the bun to cup my face. "There," she said approvingly, "Much softer."
Within the hour, we were pulling into Delaford's drive, and I could not contain my awe at seeing Delaford for the first time. Columns lined the corners of the three story brick manor, but what I loved most about the ethereal house was the many windows it possessed. However, my joy grew tenfold at the sight of Colonel Brandon approaching our stopping carriage. "There he is, Elias, there's the colonel," I whispered to the baby fast asleep in my arms.
The carriage door opened and I was met by Colonel Brandon. His eyes widened at the sight of the sleeping infant in my arms. "H-Hello, Miss Jensen," he stammered in greeting. He cleared his throat and explained, "You are the first to arrive- Miss Jensen, may I offer you a tour of Delaford while we wait?"
"Oh, I would love to see your wonderful home, sir!" I gasped in excitement.
"Give me my baby back, and enjoy your tour," my sister instructed, and held out her arms for Elias.
I did as she instructed, and then made to gracefully exit the carriage; however, my sister seemed to have a different notion. She subtly slid out her foot, so that mine caught hers, and I began to fall out of the carriage. Colonel Brandon's arms shot out and cradled me to him. I collided into his chest and was enveloped by his scent, which was something distinctly masculine. Colonel Brandon reached up and brushed away the hair that had fallen into my face, and gave me a smile. "Are you all right, Miss Jensen- is your person injured in any way?"
"Ye-Yes, I think so. Th-Thank you, Colonel," I stammered in reply, a blush paintin my cheeks. My blush grew in intensity when I realised that the colonel still held me so tenderly in his arms. "Shall we begin our tour?" I inquired breathlessly.
"Ah yes," Colonel Brandon answered after a few moments, and released me from his hold. He bowed cordially to my family, whom were all watching our interaction with unreadable expressions, and then offered me his arm. I took it with a smile, and he led me to his home.
"Miss Jensen, I hope you can forgive me for my austere behaviour upon greeting you- I was shocked beyond form of speech," he said, breaking away from his descriptions of passing architecture or art, "At first..." he hesitated, but then continued somewhat hasty, "I believed your youngest nephew to actually be your own child. Forgive me."
"There is nothing to that needs to be forgiven, Colonel, I assure you," I assuaged him, and smiled warmly. An irksome thought slipped into my mind, and I looked at him cautiously as I asked with great trepidation.
He took some time gather his thoughts, and with each passing moment, my fear- though highly irrational- increased. He bent his head to meet my downcast eyes, and when he did he spoke, "If I did not know of your good and virtuous nature, Miss Jensen, and that child was indeed yours; I would never think any less of you." His sincere words left a remarkable impression upon my heart, and I smiled brightly up at him.
"Sir, more of your guests have arrived," Colonel Brandon's butler announced, thoroughly startling the both of us.
"After you, Miss Jensen," the colonel said softly, motioning towards the front door. I dipped my head in thanks, and swiftly made my way out of Delaford.
I smiled when I saw Elinor, Margaret, and Marianne emerge from a carriage with the Middletons and Mrs. Jennings. "Hello," I called out to them, and gently waved.
"Kiley!" Margaret exclaimed, and raced towards me with her beautiful curls flying about her. I bent down and wrapped my arms about her with the same enthusiasm she did for me. "I've missed you, and so has Elinor, but she won't ever tell," she told me with a roll of her eyes.
I laughed softly and replied, "I have missed your company as well, and so you must come visit soon for I have a surprise you."
"Miss Jensen, come over here, my dear girl!" Mrs. Jennings called out to me. I took Margaret by the hand, and walked over to the small group that had assembled. "May I introduce Miss Lucy Steele, a relative of mine," she explained.
"Pleasure," I replied politely, but something about the woman before me set me ill at ease. She was attractive, that much was true, but there lie a malicious glint in her eye- especially when she looked upon Elinor- and that made me question her intentions for her visit here. My eyes narrowed at the hungry, vengeful glance she shot at Elinor, and I unconsciously tensed.
"So this is the Miss Jensen you mentioned time and time again in your letters, Mama," an unknown, older woman remarked cheerily, who bore a resemblance to Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings. So this was the empty-headed, gossip-driven, Charlotte Palmer, Mrs. Jennings' youngest daughter.
I looked to Elinor, and she flashed me a sympathetic, albeit wry, smile. I gently release Margaret's hand and watched her race after Sir John and my father, who had a flying kite in their possession. I approached Elinor and murmured, "It is good to see you, Miss Dashwood," I said as I reached out to embrace her.
"Likewise, Miss Jensen, and again I thank you for befriending Margaret."
"As I too have said before, she is a very sweet girl."
"Miss Jensen, is that Lady Davenport over there?" Lucy Steele interjected with an excited gasp, "I hear her husband is worth over fifty thousand pounds!"
"Yes, Miss Steele, that is Lady Davenport, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from talking in such an unbecoming manner about my sister and brother-in-law," I answered her coolly, and eyed her with latent disapproval. Elinor hid her slight smirk behind a well- placed hand; however, that did not seem to matter as Lucy Steele was utterly oblivious to her actions as her eyes were fixed upon mine. I did not relent, and accepted her challenge, it was women like her who pushed around Elinor and made fun of girls like Margaret- I had endured my fair share of women like her, and I was now in a position to prevent it...so I did so- quite happily.
"Miss Jensen, may I steal you away from Miss Dashwood's side?" Colonel Brandon asked as he approached me out of nowhere.
"Of course, sir, excuse me ladies," I answered, and smiled brightly at the colonel. We walked away from the group in a slightly disconcerting silence; my arm twitched to reach out and wrap around his, or hold his hand. 'I hope you won't think too harshly on Miss Steele's character-"
"-I would not have been so irked if it were not for the unease I felt when becoming acquainted with her person, and the fact that it was my sister. Forgive me, Colonel, I should not speak ill of someone, especially at a party," I interrupted him, and finished with a sigh. I fiddled with my hands, and jerked in surprise when one of his hands wrapped about them. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I looked up to stare into his eyes. The sincere look in his eyes had me once again wishing that I was Marianne Dashwood, the one who held his affection.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by the sound of thundering horse hooves and an unknown man calling out, "Colonel Brandon?"
"Over here!" my dear colonel exclaimed. The rider hurried up to him, and handed Colonel Brandon a letter. The colonel ripped away the wax seal, and read the letter with a ravenous hunger. "Fetch my horse- quickly!" he shouted suddenly.
"I hope it isn't something serious, Colonel," Mrs. Jennings asked loudly.
"I must away to London," he explained hastily as he reached for his horse's reins.
"Surely it can wait until tomorrow-" Sir John began.
"-I cannot afford to lose one hour," Colonel Brandon shouted, his handsome features warped with worry. "Forgive me," he said, considerably soft. But when he said those words, his eyes once more met mine, and it felt like he was speaking only to me. He stopped momentarily, his head craned over his shoulder, and he looked at me once more. At that moment I had never wished to be alone, so that I could tell that I wished him back at Delaford already- and he too seemed to wish to speak with me; however, it was not to be- he spun his horse about, and galloped away.