Chapter 3

Colonel Brandon was feeling rather unsettled. He had been feeling this way for the last year and had begun to hope that things were settling again. It had started with the arrival of the Dashwood ladies, Miss Marianne in particular. He was first struck by her physical resemblance to his lost Eliza. His ward's appearance took more after her father, thankfully. He wasn't sure how he would have coped if she'd looked like her mother. Miss Marianne's resemblance extended beyond her looks. It felt as if each time he saw her she did or said something that brought Eliza before his eyes. His distraction was swiftly noticed and it did not take long for Sir John and Mrs Jennings to impute a romantic tendency to his behaviour. And it was not much longer than that before he began to feel for her what he had felt for Eliza. At first he was pleased to see her courtship with Willoughby - they were well matched in every respect. And then his ward's letter had come, and Willoughby's perfidy was revealed, followed by his total lack of honour, and Miss Marianne's broken heart. His heart had broken with hers, as he wondered if her striking resemblance to Eliza had extended to her fall, or if she and young Eliza were opposites in this respect as well.

He had begun to think that while he would always love Eliza, and by extension her daughter and Miss Marianne, she was no longer the sort of woman he would want to share his life with. The final nail in the coffin came when he overheard the obvious result of such outspoken sensibility. The rose-coloured glasses fell away and he saw the truth of the selfishness that lay at the heart of that type of person's worldview when he heard Miss Marianne berating Miss Dashwood for having no heart. During her illness and the start of her convalescence he had once again begun to resign himself to spending the rest of his life alone.

He had not, as yet, spent very much time with Miss Bennet, but the time so far had only built upon that first favourable impression of her singing with children. In some ways she greatly resembled Miss Dashwood, being calm and reasonable, and yet she had never inspired such thoughts. Miss Bennet was undeniably beautiful, but it was a very different sort of beauty to which he usually considered attractive in a woman. He'd always favoured women like Eliza and Miss Marianne, striking with ever so slight a hint of something exotic. Miss Bennet was classically beautiful, a type that he usually found cold, whereas she was characterised by a warm serenity of countenance that seemed to match the warmth of her voice and character.

Delaford needed his attention at the moment, but he had an open invitation to Barton Park, for himself and Fitzwilliam. As the latter was known to be a sociable man Brandon did not think he would object to spending some time there.

One morning in early July found Elinor, Marianne, and Jane walking along East Wilder Brook, past Barton Park and some of its outlying farm-houses. They were following Elinor, who had a particular scene in mind. Jane had brought her sewing and Marianne had undertaken to read to them. They had just crested one of the downs and as Elinor discussed the prospect with Jane, Marianne turned to look eastwards. Her eye was quickly drawn to the rising cloud of dust that was moving towards them.

"Who do you suppose that is?" she asked and the other two turned in her direction.

"Sir John has not mentioned any guests, no doubt he's going to see someone in the village."

Marianne continued to watch the rider while Elinor and Jane turned their attention back to Elinor's intended drawing. It was not long before Marianne interrupted them again.

"You are mistaken, Elinor. He is going to Barton Park. I recognise him now, he's one of Colonel Brandon's stable boys."

It appeared that he had seen them as well, for he checked his horse and turned towards them. He stopped briefly, speaking only to Elinor as he explained that the Colonel had sent him to deliver a letter to her or her mother. He was then on his way to deliver another letter to Sir John and Lady Middleton. Consumed with curiosity, the ladies decided to curtail their expedition and return to the Cottage. The letter pleased them all and they knew that receipt of a similar letter would please Sir John and Mrs Jennings greatly. Colonel Brandon was required to be at Delaford, but he wished to procure some society for his friend, the newly arrived General Fitzwilliam, and so was inviting them all to stay in Dorset for a few weeks.

They were all pleased to do so and by the end of the week Delaford was fuller than it had been in many a long year. The Colonel undertook introductions and was rather disconcerted to find himself annoyed by the way his friend stared at Miss Bennet.

When he introduced her, the man exclaimed, "I knew I recognised a familiar face! I have lately been acquainted with your sister, Miss Elizabeth."

"Then I expect we should congratulate you on your promotion, as she mentioned no Generals to me."

He was duly congratulated by all and the conversation turned more general.

My dear Lizzy,

Your astute eye will have noticed that I have moved to Dorsetshire. The inhabitants of Barton Park have come as well, in addition to other friends of Colonel Brandon, whose hospitality we now enjoy. Among them is a man who take great pleasure in discerning a likeness between you and I. I have ventured to extend your congratulations on General Fitzwilliam's recent promotion and trust you will forgive me singing your praises for as long as I have so welcoming an audience. His manners remind me of you and his friendship with the Dashwoods is exactly what I would wish yours to be.

I am very pleased to hear such good accounts of my mother and sisters, though, as you expected, your methods do trouble me. As it appears to have helped, rather than harmed, I will say no more on the subject. I am greatly pleased to hear about Mary's willingness to speak to my father on the subject of her novel. If she can bear for you to read it, she can have no fears of my father's disliking it. I am only jealous that I must wait to read it once I'm home again. I have even wished once or twice for your visit to the Lakes to be cancelled in favour of a visit to the sea! I do not know that I shall ever be pleased to spend so long without you, though my Aunt Gardiner's reminded of the price of marriage inclines me to think that it will be the usual state of things in the future.

But I will not let such maudlin sentiments hold sway for very long. Tomorrow, as you know, is the night of the full moon and we shall be spending hours in carriages if the weather is fine, for we shall spend the day at Lyme and walk on the Cobb and apparently there's also a very pleasant walk on a beach. I am so pleased that I will finally see the sea and wish only for your presence.

Your most affectionate sister,

Jane

Mr Bennet was an observant man. He prided himself on his ability to take in all that went on around him. He had been aghast when Mrs Bennet had come shrieking into his library, wailing about the militia's designs on their two youngest daughters. He'd been so busy watching society that he hadn't noticed they were all grown up. He could see Lizzy's hand in his wife's newfound desire to guard the girls and was almost curious enough to ask how she'd managed it. First, though, was whatever was making Mary so jittery. Since Jane had gone to her friends in Devon - and he could have done without Mrs Gardiner's hints of getting used to a future without his eldest daughters - Lizzy and Mary seemed to have struck up a friendship. He had watched them walk, read, and sing together, and pleased to see it. With any luck Mary would improve into a decent companion.

He suspected he was about to be approached, given the way Mary kept darting glances at him. Lizzy was chattering away, sending soothing smiles to her sister. Sure enough, not five minutes after he'd gone to his library there was a timid knock at his door. Mary tiptoed in, clutching her books of extracts, with Lizzy grinning cheerfully behind her. They seated themselves and sat in silence for a moment.

Finally, Lizzy spoke, "Papa, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Mary has been hiding things from us all and I'm not sure you'll be able to forgive her."

Mary's eyes widened in horror and it was all her father could do not to laugh. Unlike her, he could see Lizzy's eyes twinkling. "Well, she doesn't seem to have run off with one of the tenant's sons, and do not even try to tell me she's been carrying on a flirtation with one of the officers - I will never believe it."

Lizzy could not help laughing at that and even Mary was able to smile as she shook her head. "No, Papa. I do not think it anything so bad as that. And Lizzy says you'll be pleased, so I thought..." she trailed off and ended by putting the books on the table in front of him.

He didn't know quite what to do with them. Why Lizzy thought he'd be pleased with books of religious extracts... ah. She knew he wouldn't, which meant that whatever the books contained it was not what he was expecting. He took the top book and opened it. He was astounded to find himself faced with a novel. He raised an eyebrow at his daughters and began reading. That evening he learnt that for all Lizzy's intelligence, Mary was the daughter who was most like him. The novel was filled with acerbic, misanthropic observations on her characters' lives - some of whom he recognised from the neighbours he delighted in observing. The first time he laughed Mary relaxed visibly. At some point he looked up and the girls had disappeared. That was the point at which he noticed it was dark and the candle beside him was almost burnt out.

A few days later, when he'd finished reading all the material she'd left with him, he called her back to his library. "Now, Mary, Lizzy was quite correct. You have kept something wonderful from me for many years. You're going to have to find a way to make that up to me. For now, though, I wanted to know what you intend to do with these volumes."

She looked at his hand, resting on the books she'd poured herself into. "I'm not really sure. Lizzy thought I should try to publish it, but I'm not certain that would be right."

"As your father it is my duty to guide you in these sorts of things. I think it would be criminal not to publish this."

She was silent for a moment and then addressed herself to the portrait of her grandfather that hung above the fireplace. "I do not know how to go about publishing something."

"Well you need not worry about that. Your Uncle Gardiner is a partner in one of the London publishing houses. You will need to create a fair copy of the manuscript for him to take away with him. No doubt you will have to spend some time in London at some point, but we can discuss that with him when he comes to steal Lizzy away.

My dearest Georgiana,

You have no idea of how much I'm looking forward to joining you and Darcy at Pemberley next month. I'm very pleased that you're continuing my mother's attempts to civilise him! I have a proposition that I think will help, but will probably be more acceptable coming from you. In his last letter Darcy warned me that Bingley, and consequently his sisters, will be joining us at Pemberley. As your guardian I am concerned about you not having appropriate young ladies to form friendships with. Naturally I have a solution to the problem. My promotion was well-deserved, dear cousin.

I am currently visiting my friend, Colonel Brandon. Knowing of my fondness for society he invited a number of friends to join us, including a number of young ladies. I should like to introduce you to Miss Dashwood, her sister Miss Marianne, who I understand is recovering from a somewhat similar disappointment to yours, and their friend Miss Bennet. You did indeed read that correctly. The eldest Miss Bennet is dear friends with the eldest Miss Dashwood. Obviously one way to start improving Miss Elizabeth's opinion is to impress her favourite sister. Convince Darcy to send an invitation forthwith!

Yours ever,

Richard

Having read her letter, Georgiana went to work on her brother. He had received a similar request directly from the General, who had stressed the point of friends for Georgiana. The invitation was swiftly dispatched.

Prior to making the invitation known, Fitzwilliam needed Brandon's advice. "You have spent more time with Miss Bennet than I. Would it be better to discuss the matter with her privately?"

"Why would that be necessary?"

"She is acquainted with Darcy and his friend Bingley and his family. I understand from her sister that the connexion had given her some pain."

Brandon was reluctant to cause Miss Bennet pain and agreed that she should be prepared for the invitation. It took some maneuvering but they were both experienced strategists and it was not long before Jane found herself walking alone with General Fitzwilliam.

"I trust you will forgive Brandon and I for our scheming."

"Scheming?"

"Indeed. We worked very hard to separate you from your friends, but I trust you will forgive us when you hear what I have to say."

Jane was surprised. Her first thought was that the General was working up to a proposal. A moment convinced her she was mistaken, they barely knew each other. "Well, you will have to tell me all before I decide whether or not I forgive you."

"It's quite a simple matter, but I trust you will also forgive your sister who confided in me."

"She has already told me that. There is nothing to forgive."

"Excellent. Then you know that I am one of Miss Darcy's guardians."

"I do."

"And I trust your experience will bring you to agree that Miss Bingley is not a good choice of friend for a shy young lady."

"Oh. Well. I am sure that if she truly cared about her she would be a very good friend."

"And do you think a woman who would treat someone as she did you is a good role model for an impressionable young girl."

"No, I do not."

"And that is a sign of your good sense. As the guardian of such a creature you may assure yourself that I am always on the lookout for more appropriate friends for her."

"Of course."

"Naturally I think that you and the Miss Dashwoods meet my criteria. So, I have convinced Darcy to invite you all to Pemberley next month."

"And why, if the invitation is for all of us, do you need to speak to me privately?"

"Ah. Well. I shall come straight to the point. Bingley and his family with be there as well."

She was silent for a moment and the General took care to focus on the scenery and give her time to compose herself. "Tell me, General, how close is Pemberley to a village called Lambton? Do you know?"

"Lambton? What has Lambton to do with it?"

"I've had a letter from Lizzy. She was supposed to be going on a trip to the Lakes, however the trip has been curtailed and they will spend some time at Lambton where my Aunt Gardiner lived for some years."

"I can assure you that Pemberley will put you only five miles from your sister."

"Then I shall hope my hosts will accept your cousin's very kind invitation."

They found their friends in the conservatory. It was not long before the General found himself alone with a young lady again. Marianne wished to avail herself of the Colonel's pianoforte and soon absconded with Jane, who she wanted to have accompanying her. Naturally the Colonel was pulled along in their wake, as attracted to music as ever.

"Well, Miss Dashwood? Should you like to join our musicians?"

"No, I would much rather remain here in peace. The Colonel has some exotic plants I'd like to sketch."

He hesitated, unsure of himself. He would very much like to stay, even just to watch her draw, but could not tell from her manner if he would be welcome. It was not a position he found himself in very often and it made him deeply uncomfortable. She watched him steadily and smiled as he started to fidget.

"I see," she said. "You have had your private conversation with Jane and now you wish to speak to me."

"I... that is... well, yes, actually."

"Come along then. I can talk while drawing. I frequently listen to Marianne playing, or Margaret reading while sketching. Conversation will not be much different."

He followed her to a bench where she had already placed her materials and assisted her in placing the orchids before seating himself in the position that gave him the best view of her. For a moment he lost himself in admiration. She was utterly beautiful, particularly when she crinkled her nose as she concentrated on her canvas.

"Is what you wish to speak to me about the same as what you discussed with Jane?"

"Somewhat. The core question is the same, but the necessary questions around it are quite different." He paused, not quite sure where to start. "I would not have you think my questions impertinent," he began, but was interrupted.

"Oh dear, this is not an auspicious beginning."

"Miss Dashwood?"

"The last time someone started a conversation that way was very distressing and had such far-reaching repercussions that I sincerely hope it shall never be repeated."

"I'm afraid this conversation will be rather distressing, as much for myself as for you. And while I certainly hope there will be long-term ramifications, the ones I'm hoping for are, I think, very pleasant."

"I shall trust you on that point for now, General. And since you've successfully piqued my curiosity, I shall beg you to ask your impertinent questions."

He watched her a moment, enjoying the mix of amusement and trepidation on her countenance. "It has been rather widely spoken of that your sister was recently disappointed. Will you tell me what happened?"

Elinor looked up sharply, unable to believe her ears for a moment. He was quite serious, grave even. "I don't really think," she began.

"Please, Miss Dashwood. I know this will distress you and I shall respond with an equally distressing confidence I assure you."

"Very well. Marianne fell deeply in love with a young man. You have seen her intensity for yourself, so I shall allow you to infer the violence of her passions. His regard seemed equally fervent. We were all expecting an engagement. No, that's not quite true. I expected that they wouldn't bother, that they'd just come home from the church one day, announcing their marriage with characteristic impudence. Instead he left the neighbourhood suddenly, claiming his aunt had sent him away. I daresay that was true. Marianne was miserable, but had no doubt of his constancy, nor of his swift return. He did not return, however. We joined Mrs Jennings in town, on her part purely out of a desire to see him. She sent him notes, but he did not come.

"Finally we met, such a meeting was inevitable, of course. The way he acted! As though we were nothing more than distant acquaintances! No doubt you can imagine Marianne's distress. She wrote him one final note and the response was utterly infamous. He claimed that we had misconstrued his friendship! And within days knowledge of his engagement to a young lady with £50 000 was all over town. To add to his perfidy, we then learnt that he had seduced a dear friend's ward. With the usual result. As if that weren't enough, he heard of her illness, of the danger she was in, and actually importuned me for half an hour with talk of how pitiful his circumstances were! To ask us to have sympathy and compassion for him!"

"Thank you," was all he could say at the end of her recital. "I'm afraid to distress you further, but I must ask his name. I have a ward myself."

"Willoughby. John Willoughby."

"My ward is my cousin, Miss Darcy. I share guardianship with her brother. She is shy and he is reserved. Their mother died a few years after her birth and their father shortly after Darcy reached his majority. She was kept innocent, within the family circle. I am sorry to say it, but we gave her a companion and gave no thought to friends. Daughters are rare in the Darcy and Fitzwilliam lines, which left us ignorant of the need young ladies have for friends. Her only choices were those women related to Darcy's friends, most of whom are older, far more worldly, and interested in her exactly as far as required to gain access to her brother."

"The poor girl."

"It gets worse. My Uncle Darcy had a godson. The son of his steward. I trust you will remember the name of George Wickham. My uncle doted on him, but Darcy saw what he was really like. He was profligate, dissolute, and deficient of all virtues. All was well until my uncle died and Wickham had to deal with Darcy. He was still kinder and more generous that the cad deserved, but at some point he had enough and refused Wickham's demands."

"Oh dear."

"I see you suspect the resultant debacle. Georgiana has £30 000, no doubt Wickham felt if should always have been his. She knew nothing of what he was like, we could not see the need to tarnish her memories of her father's favourite. He convinced her to elope with him and it was only by chance that Darcy prevented it."

They sat silently for some moments before the General spoke again. "Now that our spirits are thoroughly depressed let us move on to the hopefully pleasant consequences of these confidences."

"And what would those be?"

"Quite simply, we are now aware of Georgiana's need for real friends. As you no doubt suspect, I'm proposing yourself, Miss Marianne, and Miss Bennet for the office. You and Miss Bennet would benefit any young lady, but I admit that I am hoping that your sister, having had a somewhat similar experience, will lift her spirits through the knowledge that she'd not the only young lady to be deceived by a rogue."

"And how do you plan to enact this design? Have you sent for her?"

"No, I could never get her to face a house full of strangers. I have convinced Darcy to invite you all to Pemberley, when the Colonel and I go there in August."

"And the willingness of such a reserved man to open his house to strangers has, of course, nothing to do with Miss Bennet being part of the group. I see now why you needed to speak to Jane. I take it she is amenable to your scheme?"

"She informs me that her dearest sister, Miss Elizabeth, will be not five miles from Pemberley for a fair portion of August."

"Well, pending my mother's permission I think you may consider this part of your plan a success."