Willoughby, whom I had not seen arrive; spoke in a falsely soft tone, "There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of them. He is afraid of catching cold, I dare say, and invented this trick of getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his writing." Marianne giggled coquettishly, and nodded in agreement.
Out of nowhere, and to my great pleasure, Ayden lunged at Willoughby and hit him in the abdomen with a clenched fist. "Don't talk about the colonel like that!" my wonderful nephew growled.
"Ayden!" Marci's voice cut through the sounds of astonished gasps, "Apologise now."
Willoughby clutched his stomach, and Marianne eyes my nephew with disdain. "You heard your mother, apologise," Marianne agreed.
Ayden, an eternally sensitive soul, bit his trembling lower lip and stammered, "B-But he spoke poorly o-of the c-c-c-colonel."
"Leave him alone, Marianne!" Margaret exclaimed as Marianne opened her mouth to fillet Ayden, and strode to my nephew's side. "He is only eight years' old, do not be too harsh on him," she finished softly. She wrapped an arm about my nephew's shoulders and gave him an encouraging smile. At that moment, I knew that Ayden and Margaret had both gained a new friend.
"Mother," I spoke softly, and after successfully gaining her attention continued, "I am feeling ill, might we return home?"
"Of course, my dear. Ayden, come along before you inflict any further damage." Our carriage was brought up, and we left after I had Elinor promise me she would visit me and would bring Margaret along. The carriage ride home was a silent one, and I had my forehead pressed against the cool glass.
"Fret not, dear sister, I doubt your colonel will remain in London long," Marci murmured softly, but I did not heed her words.
The image of the colonel's distraught face burned through my mind, and a grimace flickered across my features. Whatever or whomever was the cause of the colonel's abrupt, panicked departure, I hoped that all was well- or soon would be. My head ached from my hair's tight confinement, and so I deftly pulled the pins out of my thick tresses. A sigh unconsciously fell past my lips, and I ran nervous hands through my hands.
"Kiley, don't slouch," my mother chided half-heartedly, but the majority of her attention was fixed upon my uneasy expression. She reached across the carriage and gently squeezed my hand with hers, then flashed me a small, albeit sympathetic, smile.
I straightened my back as she requested, but soon found myself slouching once more. My mother said nothing this time, and for that I was grateful. I twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, and tried to push away the ever growing ache in my heart.
A few days later, Gerard came to me in my study and informed me that the Dashwoods had arrived. I plastered a smile on my face, and followed Gerard downstairs to greet them. "It's so good to see you all! Marianne, I am so glad you could finally visit!" I exclaimed gently, and pulled her into a brief embrace. I noticed the dark rings under her eyes that matched my own, and the overall crestfallen expression- I knew what she was feeling...heartbreak. I shot Elinor a concerned look, and she returned my gaze with an unreadable expression.
"Kiley! Kiley! I brought my bow, can I go out to the archery arena?"
"Of course, Margaret...and Marianne, there is a Broadwood grand that has been bereft of a play for far too long if you wish to play," I explained. A faint smile threatened to upturn the corner of Marianne's lips, and she glided into the open drawing room where the piano lie in wait. Elinor watched her younger sister with a gaze of concern, and a frown marred her features when Marianne began to play a most melancholy tune.
"Elinor, whatever is the matter with Marianne? Have she and Mr. Willoughby quarreled?"
"If only it were that simple, Miss Jensen, might we take a walk?" Elinor motioned to the door Margaret had previously exited; we walked out of the house side by side before she continued, "What I am about to tell you, Miss Jensen, is in utmost confidence. A few days ago, on Sunday past actually, Mr. Willoughby requested a private audience with Marianne. We, meaning everyone, believed that Willoughby was to ask for Marianne's hand in marriage; however, that was not the case. We returned from church to Barton Cottage, where we found Marianne in tears, and Willoughby at great unease. Apparently, Mr. Willoughby was being sent away by his aunt to London for business...indefinitely."
"Oh, poor Marianne!" I gasped, and in the back of my mind, I made note to give Willoughby a thorough piece of my mind. "Is there anything I could do to help?"
"I am afraid not," Elinor sighed, "Even I am of little help."
"Oh Kiley, there you are! Oh," Marci cut herself off before she continued, "Forgive me, I did not know you had company. But I came to inform you that Mother wishes for you to join me in London when I return tomorrow."
"Oh," I commented weakly, not that pleased at being sent to town and away from Elinor. "Thank you, Marci, excuse us," I mumbled half-heartedly. Elinor and I continued our stroll, although a silence had fallen over us.
"How long do you think you will be away?" Elinor inquired softly.
"Knowing my mother and sister, for as long as they can confine me there- I hate going to London, it's dreadfully crowded and yet there are barely any good, warm hearted people there," I replied dryly, unconsciously playing with the pendant about my neck.
"What is the inscription on your pendant, Miss Jensen?"
"Oh, that reminds me- I nearly forgot," I gasped, and grabbed Elinor by the hand. I led her back to the house and up to my bed chambers. I grabbed the carefully wrapped, small parcel from my desk, and ran back outside with a jostled Elinor in tow. "I almost forgot to give Margaret her present," I explained breathlessly to Elinor, and we walked to the archery arena. "Margaret, I have a gift for you!" I called out to young girl.
Margaret bounded over to us and I handed her the parcel. With barely contained enthusiasm, she opened the wrappings and with sudden hesitancy lifted off the lid of the small box. "It's beautiful!" Margaret exclaimed as she gazed up at me with incredulous eyes. "Is it really mine?" she asked.
"Yes, indeed. I received one just like it from my father when I was about your age, and every female warrior needs to bear the symbol of Artemis proudly," I laughed softly as I took the necklace in hand and clasped it about Margaret's neck. The pendant, which was identical to mine, bore a new moon with a gold bow and arrow engraved below it engraved upon the face of the moon, and the pendant caught brilliant in the light. I smiled and said warmly, "You are most welcome, little one. It is good to have a comrade in arms around here."
"It appears that it is time for us to return to Barton Cottage, thank you again, Miss Jensen," Elinor said warmly as Marianne strolled up to us.
"Will you be attending the small party the Middletons are hosting at Barton, Miss Jensen?" Marianne asked softly. I smiled at her, albeit slightly envious that she still managed to remain breathtakingly beautiful even when she was so conspicuously forlorn.
"I did not plan to attend, but if you all are to be going, then I believe I have changed my mind...much to Mrs. Jennings' delight."
I could not help but silently agree with Mr. Palmer's audible sigh as we watched Mrs. Jennings, Palmer, and Dashwood play a game of cards. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Miss Lucy Steele and Elinor in deep conversation coming towards me. I noticed that as Miss Steele continued to ramble on and on, Elinor became all the more tense- and exceedingly pale. I listened intently, but only caught a part of what Lucy Steele was saying, "...engaged...Edward Ferrars..." Elinor's face blanched more, and that was when I knew I had to do something for Elinor. Thinking quickly, I feigned rising unsteadily to my feet and let out a startled gasp and fell to the floor.
"Oh my heavens!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed, and I heard multiple pairs of feet hurry towards me. I continued to remain "unconscious" and felt someone propping me against them.
"Kiley?" Elinor whispered frantically as the arms around me tightened, and that was when I discovered the person holding me was her.
"What happened?" Margaret cried out, and I felt her hand take hold of one of mine. I felt guilty for upsetting her and her eldest sister so, but obviously Lucy Steele was starting to show her true colours and had unsettled the sensible Elinor Dashwood.
"She must have fainted, poor dear, she has been a mess ever since the colonel left for London according to her mother.
Making note to remind my private life was just that, private- my eyelids fluttered at her words, and I made sure to let out a faint groan. I slowly brought a hand up to my forehead, and asked softly, "What happened? Why am I on the ground?"
"You fainted, Miss Jensen, and thank heavens you did not hit your head!" Mrs. Palmer explained in her overly enthusiastic manner.
"Perhaps you should go home, my dear," Sir John advised as he helped me to my feet.
"I would prefer it someone escorted you," Mr. Palmer added.
"I can escort her home," Elinor said, and we promptly left and went to my awaiting carriage. It was only after the Middleton's home was out of sight did Elinor murmur, "Thank you, Kiley."
I wrapped an arm about her shoulders and replied, "It was the least I could do- anything to get Lucy Steele to be quiet, and I will not demand for the reason that led me to feign fainting." Elinor leaned into me, and we remained silent for the rest of the carriage ride until we rode by Delaford- where an almost inaudible sigh fell from my lips.
"Perhaps you will see the colonel whilst in London," Elinor commented faintly.
"One can hope," I sighed, "I cannot believe I find myself so dependent on whether or not I see him."
Elinor smiled at me with latent understanding; her hand reached out and squeezed mine briefly. "I know the feeling," she murmured. I drew comfort from her own way of empathy- I had heard from Margaret, in great confidence, that Elinor was in love too...and tonight has cemented my belief that she was in love with a Mr. Edward Ferrars. It did not take a legendary or philosopher or scholar to know that whatever the crass Lucy Steele had informed Elinor had a relation to him.
The carriage pulled up to the front of my house, and after I exited, I informed the driver to take Elinor wherever she pleased. I made my way into the house, and up to my room in a daze; I peeled away my clothes and fell with the beginnings of anticipation blossoming in my chest at the hope of seeing the colonel in London.