Ever since Elinor and Edward's wedding, they had been installed at the mansion-house at Delaford as Colonel Brandon's guests; the Dashwoods, then, were also installed there. Fall was rolling in to Devonshire, keeping the household indoors, with Marianne nearly constantly at Brandon's pianoforte or his library, and when not, out for a long walk against her mother's wishes.
Thursday the weather changed and the autumn breeze turned warm. Sir John rode out to visit with his friend the Colonel and with his cousins. "Will you join us for dinner, John?" Brandon inquired.
"Yes, yes, thank you," John replied, with a tone in his voice that revealed that he'd come to Delaford for no other reason. "Let us take our meal on the patio, shall we, Brandon?"
Sir John, Mrs Dashwood, the Ferrarses, the Miss Dashwoods, and the Colonel had dinner then on the patio. When she could take no more of Sir John's chatter, Marianne stood.
"I believe I shall go out for a walk while the sun is out," she announced.
Sir John erupted from the far end of the patio: "Will you not allow Colonel Brandon to accompany you, Miss Dashwood?"
She stopped and turned to look at her cousin; she could not pretend not to see Brandon's face and she did so, and its look of irritation with his friend. She made a decision. "Indeed," she declared. "Will you not join me, Colonel?"
His look of pain switched instantly to one of confusion, yet he assented to her request and the two of them went out together. He let her choose the path through his lawn; they were silent together, but when they turned around a corner and out of the view of the rest of the party, Brandon could not help but notice how her carriage shifted.
"Are you quite well, Miss Dashwood?" He was very uncomfortable, alone with her and out of view of her mother, yet he could not help his curiosity.
"Sir John's raillery is quite tiresome," she replied, shortly.
"He does get carried away," he agreed, then: "We should not be so far from the others."
She smiled up at him, trying to be more friendly. "I want to show you something."
Despite his frequent glances back at the house, he could not help his curiosity and followed her around to the row of trees and shrubbery where Marianne began searching in earnest for something. He found himself unsure if he should pray for her to find whatever it was quickly so they could return to the view of the party or for her not to find it all so he could keep her all to himself for another moment.
"Aha! There he is!" she declared, pointing at the undergrowth, where a large, fat hedgehog was snuffling about.
Brandon was speechless. A hedgehog was the reason she'd brought him here to the far end of the house? "A personal friend of yours, Miss Dashwood?" he finally managed.
She grinned, and he was momentarily flooded with warmth. "He's been here for three days. I wonder if he'll spend the winter right here in your garden, Colonel."
"I do not know much about the habits of hedgehogs," he confessed, "But he does seem quite contented." Marianne, too, seemed content with his observation of the animal, and allowed him to guide her back to the main part of the lawn.
"I found the Hegel you and Edward mentioned yesterday," she offered as gravel and dry leaves crunched beneath their feet.
"Did you? How did you like it?"
"Very much so far, but it is slow to read."
"Perhaps you should speak with your brother about it," Brandon said.
"Dear Edward," she said, softly. "I fear he would not know how to begin, he is so tender of heart, so unlike my own brother John. I often cannot believe that he and I could share a father."
"What was your father like?" Brandon asked, gently.
Marianne sighed softly at the thought of him and tried to collect her words. "He was very kind and always believed the very best of everyone he met." Brandon could hear the muted chatter of the others on the patio - especially Sir John - and the soft calls of birds in the trees as Marianne got quiet. "I believe he would have liked you, Colonel, though you are perhaps too sensible a man for his tastes. He always thought Elinor was a bit … serious. Adored Margaret; called her his baby until the day he died." She smiled again. "Rather liked hedgehogs."
Brandon gave her his hand as they went up the three stairs into the formal garden. "He sounds like a good man."
"He was," she said, wistfully. "He was everything good; how sad he would be to see how selfish his son has turned out. And you, Colonel? You seem quite alone here. What of your family?" She realized as she spoke that she knew quite a bit about his family despite herself, through the rumors and hints she knew of his past, and she regretted having spoken so lightly of them.
"There are some men, as you are aware, I know, Miss Dashwood, who take advantage of circumstance for their own aggrandizement, instead of discharging their duties to those trusting to their care - women and children." He shook his head, as if to clear old the old memories. "My father was one such man."
"I have … heard some of your story, Colonel," Marianne was ashamed to admit, for fear of embarrassing him, but also hopeful to be able to spare him pain from recounting details he needed not.
"Yes, of course," he remembered. "He sold my sister for a better trade relationship in Avignon, betrayed my cousin for her inheritance, and then died before he could see the ruin that action caused, thus believing his schemes to have been successful. Whatever sadness may have resulted from your father's shortcomings, it sounds to me as if there were not undertaken for malice."
"No," Marianne replied quickly, for it was true. "No, he always believed he was acting for good."
They walked on for several minutes in silence. "If I have upset you, Miss Dashwood -"
"Oh, no," she said. "No, Colonel, certainly not. I only did not want to press. What - how did it come to be that you are … different from him then?"
His grave face permitted the slightest semblance of a smile. "I was educated at home for the earliest part of my life, but attended a school in town as I got older. I'd like to think that this gave me the opportunity to develop differently once I no longer had my brother's boot in my back." Marianne could not help but think he meant it more than metaphorically. "It was close enough that I was able to return home often, and there begins the story with which you are already familiar."
"I'm sorry," was all she could think to say.
When they at last returned to the rest of the party, Margaret was all abuzz. "Have you heard that Sir John is going to host a ball at Barton on the full moon, Marianne?"
"I had not," she replied, curtly.
"We shall have to go," Margaret continued. "You too, Colonel, for Sir John says that every unmarried man in Devonshire will be there."
"I had not heard of this before either, Miss Margaret, certainly for the reason that Sir John knows I will not attend." Brandon shot a pointed look at his friend.
"Not attend!" Margaret repeated, looking scandalized. "But you must! There might be ever so many young men that only you can introduce me to, Colonel!"
Brandon smiled fondly at the girl, but remained steadfast. "I am quite sure there is no one of my acquaintance that would interest you, Miss Margaret."
Mrs Dashwood, who looked by turns amused and impatient with her youngest daughter, whispered the girl's name and took hold of her hand. Margaret ignored her. "Marianne will be there, won't you, Marianne?"
"I will not," Marianne replied, her glance darting between her sister and the Colonel. "I am quite content living my life at home, in study and care for my mother."
Margaret's jaw nearly dropped. "But if you don't go Mama will never let me! Marianne!"