From her vantage point on the crisp grasses of the embankment, Marianne could not help but smile as Christopher as he patiently fished alongside Margaret beside the wide ambling brook. She chattered like a little bird, begging for stories of the Colonel's time in the West Indies and responding in wonder and awe as he told her of his adventures.
"Christopher is certainly wonderful with children," Elinor remarked casually, watching her sister carefully.
"Yes," Marianne readily agreed, taking her eyes off of her husband's fine form for the first time in several long moments. "Although Margaret is hardly a child any longer, you know. I must admit that I'm anxious to see how he will take to his duties as an uncle."
Elinor glowed even brighter, if such a thing was possible, just to think about her happy condition. Her hands went instantly to her stomach, and the sisters shared a tender look. "He will be wonderful with children," Elinor said with a smile.
"As will Edward," Marianne was quick to mention. Edward was occupied with Mrs. Dashwood's pleasant conversation a few feet away, nodding on occasion and doing his best not to look completely ill at ease. He loved and respected his mother-in-law as any proper son-in-law should, even more so after his true family's coldness and cruel behavior. But there were still times when she utterly intimidated him. Whatever she was speaking on was certainly making him uncomfortable, if Elinor was not mistaken, but she felt fairly confident that he could manage himself for a few more moments. She was enjoying the time she could spend with Marianne. They had always been close, despite their differences in temperament. Their private conversations, though fewer and farther between now that they were both happily wed, were always to be looked forward to and cherished.
"Yes, Edward will be a wonderful father. That is one of the qualities I noticed in him right away. He has tenderness for every living thing that I think will be amplified with children." That was what made Edward so suited for his profession as a clergyman. Not only was his faith true and strong, but he had a desire to help those that could not help themselves in whatever small ways he could. Marianne had not understood him at first; she had found him plain and without any endearing features. The past two years had instilled in her greater wisdom, and now she was able to see just how great his good qualities, of which there were many, were.
"Have you given any thought to naming the baby?" Marianne asked excitedly, giving into the urge to sprawl atop the large soft quilt on her stomach in a most unladylike fashion, propping her elbows up and cupping her chin in her hands as she gazed up at Elinor.
Her sister smiled slyly down at her, amused that despite the maturation Marianne had exhibited, she still gave into such free spirited urges. "We have not talked on the matter extensively, Marianne, but I have some thoughts. If it is a boy, I should prefer to give him Edward's name, but Edward suggests we give him the name of our father."
"That is a very touching sentiment," Marianne said seriously, glancing at Edward with affection in her eyes. "Perhaps you could give your baby boy both names."
"Yes," Elinor agreed with a brief nod. "But if it is a girl, I should very much like to have her named for you, sister."
"Me?" Marianne gasped, truly surprised. "Elinor, don't you dare do any such thing!"
"Why ever not, Marianne? I could think of nothing better, and Edward readily agrees."
"Elinor," the younger woman sighed, dropping her head to rest it on her arm. "With you and Edward as her parents, your daughter, or son, perhaps, will be the most amiable, level-headed child to ever walk God's green earth. You cannot think of naming such a delightful child after a woman who was foolish enough in life to nearly ruin her chances for love and happiness twice before the age of twenty."
"Do not speak so harshly on your perceived faults, dearest," Elinor urged, her gentle blue eyes filled with concern. "Whatever do you mean that you nearly ruined your chances for happiness twice?"
The answer came easily enough to Marianne's lips. "First, when I nearly gave my heart over to Willoughby. I thought myself so in love with him, blinded as I was by my impulses and my strange sensibilities."
Naturally Elinor knew well what her sister spoke of. She had been very much involved, like nearly everyone else present, in that particular affair. "And the second?" she pressed.
"Second, I almost failed to realize my true feelings for Christopher. I let myself be influenced by my great dislike of everyone's attempted matchmaking, and I nearly dismissed him from my thoughts entirely."
Elinor nodded slowly, trying to understand Marianne's regrets of the past. "Marianne, you cannot blame yourself for something you almost did. Whatever your reasons for past actions, the fact remains that you made the correct choices. You did not ruin your chances for love and happiness, and therefore you simply cannot despair over those choices that were not made."
Marianne let her wise sister's words sink in, thinking on them with extreme care. "You are right, as always, Elinor," she finally conceded with a gentle half smile.
"Marianne!" Elinor started, glancing down at her rounded belly.
"What is it?" Marianne questioned fearfully, sitting up at once.
"Do not be alarmed. I assure you I am well. It is just that the baby is moving." They smiled in wonder and delight at one another, and immediately Marianne placed her hands on top of Elinor's.
"Oh!" she gasped softly, feeling the quickening movements of her sister's unborn child. "Elinor, oh Elinor, how wonderful! Edward! Edward, come quickly!" Edward and Mrs. Dashwood glanced in their direction, and in a moment Elinor's husband hastened to his wife's side. "Place your hands here, Edward," Marianne gently directed. Edward seemed to know what was happening and was more than delighted to place his hands beside Elinor's and Marianne's.
"Certainly a tenacious little thing, is it not?" he questioned dryly, smiling into his wife's eyes.
"How very uncharacteristic," Marianne teased. "Perhaps it would be a wise decision to name her Marianne after all." The sisters laughed while Edward watched them quizzically, not privy to the conversation just held.
"So the two of you have decided on a name, then?" he gently quipped, smiling crookedly. "That's a relief, for I've begun to wonder if I'd be able to convince Elinor of a suitable name."
"Oh, Edward, I would never dream of interfering," Marianne laughed. "You can decide to name your child Alonso or Wilhelmina, for all I care, and I would never say a word!"
"I would be tempted to complain," Mrs. Dashwood called from a little ways off, sending the group laughing once more.
Alongside the brook, Christopher had turned to observe his wife and relatives. He was a little far off to hear what they spoke of, but one look at his wife's glorious shining face was enough to make his heart sing. He watched her curiously, her lithe fingers placed upon her sister's belly. Thoughts of fatherhood found him and he could not but smile. His Marianne would be such a lovely mother, always wreathed in smiles and full of song for the babes he hoped they would raise. His happiness was complete with her at his side; children would add to such a perfect happiness twice fold, a feat nearly impossible to imagine.
Margaret seemed content where she was, sitting cross-legged in a tomboy fashion on the smooth stones of the bank. Leaving her for the moment, he carefully approached the rest of the party.
"Christopher, are you finished so soon?" Marianne asked, turning to look at him without removing her hands.
"The fish are not being very cooperative for me today, I'm afraid," he rejoined, his words followed by the soft laughter of the rest. "Margaret is practically stripping the stream bare of all its aquatic life." Noticing that all eyes were suddenly upon her, Margaret waved vivaciously to her family, gesturing the basket that sat beside her that was no doubt filled with all the fish she had caught. "Like all Dashwood ladies, Margaret is a quick learner and more than able to accomplish what she sets out to do."
The ladies all smiled at his compliment. Elinor watched carefully the strange, expressive look that was next shared between Christopher and his wife. "I wonder, Mrs. Brandon, if you would join me for a stroll?" Marianne grinned unabashedly, nodding her agreement. Reluctantly she pulled her hands away from Elinor's rounded waist, but not before dropping a quick kiss upon it.
"Goodbye, little one," she said sweetly. "Do be good to your mother while I'm away." Christopher's extended hand was quickly accepted by his enthusiastic wife, and he tucked it tenderly into the crook of his arm
"We shall not be long," he told the rest of the party, who politely nodded and averted their eyes. All, that is, except for Elinor, who continued to watch them as they strolled pleasantly away.
"They make a striking couple," she remarked to Edward and Mrs. Dashwood, smiling gently. "I confess it brings my heart great joy to see them both so happy."
"There was a time that I was not certain that Marianne would ever find happiness," Mrs. Dashwood admitted, shaking her head slowly. "If only your father were here to see all of you so happy and so well off in the world."
Elinor nodded, patting her mother's hand. That, she supposed, was one of the few things that could make their lives sweeter. As it was, she was sure that he watched over his wife and daughters with great diligence, seeing to their happiness from whatever blissful paradise he dwelt in.
Christopher Brandon could not take his eyes away from his radiant wife. Inspired by a beautiful wild rose they had passed, Marianne was reciting dramatically some obscure poem he had never heard before. He scarcely registered her words, so enchanted was he by the glow in her cerulean eyes, or the gentle smile that remained on her soft rosy lips. She laughed at herself, a most charming sound, and turned her glowing eyes up to him.
"Miss Marianne, did you know that you could charm the fairies from wherever their hide?" Christopher asked her with a raised eyebrow. "All of nature seems to respond to your pleasant voice."
She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. "If I had the power to charm fairies out of hiding, I should be sorely tempted to fly away with them to their fairy court. Then you would be without a wife and I would be without a sane thought in my head. It is for the best, I think, that I have not that power, Christopher."
"When you put it that way, I am certain you are right," he acquiesced, leading her away from the meandering path and nearer to a massive and tall aging tree. Its mighty roots burst forth from the soft earth near the babbling brook's embankment, creating a rather large natural bench of sorts.
They sat together side by side, Marianne's gaze directed to the meandering waters. Christopher tried unsuccessfully to follow suit, but soon enough he found himself watching her intently. "Marianne," he interrupted after several minutes of unbroken silence, "may I ask you a question?"
Turning her head to meet his gaze, she regarded him strangely. "Christopher, you needn't ask such a thing. Of course you may ask me a question. You may ask me anything you like."
He smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes. "Marianne, what do you think about having children some day?" Her eyes grew wide, discouraging Christopher immensely. "I do not mean to distress you, my darling, but--"
Shaking her head quickly, Marianne was swift to interrupt. "I'm sorry, Christopher. You mistake my surprise. Of course it is not distressing. It is a subject that is paramount, I believe, to our future happiness."
It was now his eyes that widened, though confusion shone more brightly than surprise there. "I'm not making myself very clear, am I," she murmured apologetically. "More than anything else in the world, I want to be mother to your children, Christopher Brandon," she assured him solemnly, even sweetly. His sigh of relief was deep and audible, and he squeezed her little hand that was enclosed by his larger one. "I am surprised that you did not realize my feelings on the matter," she finished, explaining her initial reaction to his question.
In fact, she was still greatly surprised to realize they had never spoken of having children of their own. Her husband was many years her senior, though not enough to be considered old or elderly. Perhaps had she thought on it more, she would have wondered if he truly desired to sire children when he had so recently ended his bachelor's life of 38 years. She had always assumed that he, like almost all other men in their right minds, would desire an heir to the Brandon name and fortune.
Doubt was clouding her eyes. She could sense her husband's relief at her answer, but she needed to hear his own thoughts voiced clearly. "And you, Christopher? What are your thoughts on children?"
He laughed aloud, joy suffusing across his features. "I can imagine nothing sweeter than a handful of children with their mother's enchanting eyes and brilliant spirit."
"And their father's graceful form and noble character," she added, feeling the same joy she saw so evident on her husband's face.
"Oh, Marianne!" he cried happily, gathering her into his arms for a tight embrace. "I do not deserve such happiness."
"Oh, yes you do," she laughed into his shoulder, soft and willing as his fingers grasped her little chin and drew her face up to meet his kiss. It was warm and gentle, deepening with each passing moment and filled with promises of the future.
When it ended, Marianne did not even pause to draw breath before whispering in wicked delight, "We shall simply have to redouble our efforts to sire offspring."
Christopher threw his head back and burst into laughter. "Wicked thing," he teased, rising and pulling her up with him. "But I must say it is a very agreeable plan."
"And most practical," she added.
"Very practical," he agreed, clasping her hand as he led her back to the path. "We must return to your family, Miss Marianne, so as not to alarm them. But I promise you that when we return home, ere long we shall follow this plan of yours most faithfully."
"Very good, Colonel, lead on," she returned solemnly, giving him another mock salute. Their laughter preceded them as they happily wound their way back to their waiting family.