She smiled.

‘Milton would forgive you your deviation, glad that you have seen the truth of his words, as your friends must be,’ she said.

We passed Robert Pinker and bade him good morning. We had just passed him when he called out, ‘Mr. Bertram!’

We reined in our horses and he approached.

‘I wonder if I could call on you this afternoon, at Thornton Lacey?’ he said.

‘By all means. Was there something particular you wished to see me about?’

He went red and stammered that Miss Colton had been good enough to accept his offer of marriage.

‘This is splendid news,’ I said, and Fanny added her heartfelt good wishes.

‘We would like to be married at the end of June,’ he said. ‘I have a house, there is nothing to wait for.’

‘Then call on me at three o’clock and we will discuss it.’

He thanked me and we set off.

‘That will be a happy marriage,’ I said.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Fanny. ‘I have been hoping for it for some time.’

‘You knew it was likely to take place?’

‘I visited Mrs. Colton when her mother was ill, and Mr. Pinker was there. Miss Colton looked at the floor and blushed a great deal.’

‘It is a puzzlement to me how women can behave so differently when they are in love. Mary was bold and confident — though perhaps she was not in love.’

‘I think she was, as much as she was capable of being,’ said Fanny.

‘Yes. Her nature perhaps admitted of no more. But Miss Colton was not bold, she blushed and looked at the floor. And yet when you did the same it meant quite the opposite, that you did not want Mr. Crawford’s attentions. I will never understand the fairer sex.’

‘Perhaps you will, in time,’ said Fanny, looking at me.

‘Perhaps.’

We turned for home.

‘I have had a letter from Julia,’ said my father, when we joined him and Mama in the drawing room. ‘She has begged my forgiveness and she now asks for the indulgence of my notice. I would like your advice, Edmund; and yours, too, Fanny. You have seen more clearly in this business than any of us.’

‘It seems to me to be a good sign,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Fanny. ‘If they wish to be forgiven, then I think you should notice them.’

She colored slightly for speaking so boldly but my father thanked her for her opinion.

‘What do you think, Lady Bertram?’ he asked.

‘I would like to see Julia again,’ she said wistfully, ‘and so would Pug.’

‘Then I will write and invite them to Mansfield Park. Perhaps something might be salvaged from the disasters that have befallen us over the last few weeks after all.’

‘Mr. Yates was frivolous but he was constant,’ said Fanny. ‘I believe he liked Julia from the first.’

‘Well, we shall see,’ said my father.

After luncheon, Fanny and I set out for Thornton Lacey, I to see Robert Pinker and Fanny to call on Mrs. Green, who has a new baby.

‘So that is the meaning of the dress you have been sewing,’ I said.

‘A new mother can never have too much linen,’ she replied.

We reached Thornton Lacey in good time and together we looked over the house.

‘Moving the farmyard has changed it completely,’ she said.

‘Yes, has it not?’

‘The approach is now one any gentleman might admire, and the prospect is much improved.’

‘And what do you think of the chimney piece?’

‘I think it is excellent,’ she said, running her hand across it. ‘It adds a great deal of beauty to the room. This is a good house, Edmund, and may be made more beautiful still if you wish.’

‘I am committed to improving it as much as I might.’

We went upstairs and she gave me the benefit of her advice on the cupboards before she left to see Mrs. Green. I soon received Robert Pinker, who told me of Miss Colton’s many virtues. I wished him happy and we arranged for the banns to be read. He left me in good spirits, and Fanny returned soon after, smiling brightly.

‘Mrs. Green was well?’

‘She was, and the baby was thriving.’

The world seemed a better place as we rode home together. Julia repentant, Tom improving, and Fanny growing in beauty and confidence daily.

I only hope it may continue.


Tuesday 30 May

Julia and Yates arrived this morning. There was some little awkwardness, but Julia was so humble and so wishing to be forgiven, and Yates was so much better than we had thought him, for he was truly desirous of being received into the family, that soon things became quite comfortable. My mother was delighted to have Julia restored to her, and the day ended more pleasantly than anyone could have rightfully expected.

JUNE

Thursday 1 June

‘This marriage of Julia’s is not so bad as I first feared,’ said my father to me this morning. ‘Yates is not very solid, but from a number of conversations I have had with him, I think there is every hope of him becoming less trifling as he grows older. His estate is more, and his debts less than I feared.’


Saturday 10 June

Our good news continues. Tom is now out of danger, and this morning he was able to take a short walk out of doors. The weather was fine, and the exercise did him good. I believe we will have him well again by the end of the summer, and none the worse for his fall.


Thursday 15 June

At last Maria and Crawford have been discovered. Maria refuses to leave Crawford, saying she is sure they will be married in time. Rushworth is determined to divorce her. It is a scandal, but we must endure it, for there is nothing else to be done.


Thursday 29 June

Fanny and I have grown into the habit of wandering outside in the evening, enjoying the balmy air, and sitting under trees talking of books and poetry. It is like the old days, before the Crawfords came to Mansfield Park, and yet with this change, that Fanny is no longer my protégée, she is my equal. She argues with me over the authors’ and poets’ intentions, and her arguments are well reasoned and compelling. She makes me rethink my position, and in so doing gives me a deeper understanding of the books and poems I so love. And when we have talked our fill, we watch the sun sinking over the meadows, and take as much pleasure from the sight of it as those in London society take in a necklace of rubies.

JULY

Wednesday 12 July

Maria and Crawford’s situation grows daily worse. They are now so disenchanted with each other that they fairly hate each other and a voluntary separation looks set to take place any day. My aunt wishes my father to receive her here, but he will not hear of it.

‘This is all your doing,’ said my aunt to Fanny, as I entered the drawing-room this afternoon. ‘If you had married Mr. Crawford when he asked you, then none of this would have happened.’

I rescued Fanny from my aunt’s spite by suggesting a walk in the garden, where we continued our discussion of Thomson, and from thence, sparked by our joy of the soft summer air, Fanny progressed to Cowper, saying:

God made the country, and man made the town.

‘You were not happy in Portsmouth?’ I said.

‘No. It grieves me to say it, but I was not. I missed Mansfield, not just the countryside, but the people. I had thought, before I went, that I would feel at home there, with my family, but their ways are so different to ours — in truth, I was often horrified. My father...’

‘You may say anything to me, Fanny. If you want to ease your heart, I am at your disposal.’

‘It seems wrong to speak disrespectfully of my parents.’

‘There is no disrespect in turning to a friend for comfort and guidance,’ I said.

‘You do me good, Edmund. You always do me good.’

‘Except...’ I thought of the time I had tried to persuade her to marry Henry Crawford. I had been blinded by my own concerns. I had not been a friend to her there. But I put such thoughts aside and continued, ‘Your family were not what you were expecting them to be?’

‘No. My father cursed a great deal, and my mother seemed content to proceed without any order. I confess, I learnt the lesson that I believe Sir Thomas had been endeavoring to teach me, that wealth and position bring with them many advantages, and that poverty brings with it many hardships that cannot be overlooked.’

‘And yet you did not succumb to the lure of riches that was being held out to you.’

‘No. I would rather live in an attic at Mansfield Park than in a manor house where I did not love.’

‘I too. One evening spent walking by the river with you, talking of things that matter, is of far more value to me than a year in London, talking of nothing and attending the most glittering parties.’

The light began to fade and we went indoors, to continue our conversation in the library, away from Aunt Norris.


Wednesday 19 July

Tom went out riding for the first time since his fall, and though he was wary to begin with he soon regained his confidence and came home looking as well as he did before his illness.


Thursday 27 July

Our evening walks have become a settled thing, and not a day goes by without Fanny and I strolling through the grounds. As we walked by the river this evening I stopped to survey the water, whose surface was sparkling in the sunlight. I thought that it was like Mary, dazzling on the surface, but with mud beneath. Further on, there was no sparkle, but the water was clear and deep, and I thought of Fanny, whose goodness ran down to the depths of her being. I turned to face her and thought how lucky I was to have her, for she had safeguarded my faith in women when Mary would have shattered it.

As long as I have Fanny, I will always know that goodness exists, because I will have it right in front of me.

AUGUST

Tuesday 1 August

My father is so pleased with Julia and Yates, who improve daily, that he has decided to acknowledge them with a ball in their honor. The invitations have gone out and my father’s recognition of their marriage will ensure they are accepted in society.


Wednesday 2 August

I asked Tom if he wanted to go into town with me this morning but he said he was too busy seeing to the improvements on the home farm. He has changed since his illness. He has recovered his health and spirits but he has had a shock, and says he does not want to spend all his life racing and drinking.

‘And that is what it almost was, Edmund. all my life,’ he said to me. Instead, he has started to take an interest in his inheritance, as well as an interest in pleasure. I left him setting out to look over the home farm and went into town alone, where I ordered a string of pearls for Fanny.


Thursday 3 August

I asked Fanny if I might secure her as my partner for the first two dances of Julia’s ball and she agreed. As I did so, I remembered the ball at which I danced the first two dances with Mary, but it seemed almost as though it had happened to another person and not to me. To my surprise, it no longer hurts me, or angers me, or even interests me to think of Mary. She seems of no consequence at all.


Thursday 10 August

As soon as I had dressed for the ball I took the pearls to Fanny’s sitting-room, where I found her. She was watering her geraniums. She was already dressed for the ball and I felt as though I was seeing her, for the first time, as a desirable young woman. Her dress was new and its whiteness set off the soft gold of her arms and face. Her hair was piled on top of her head, showing the gracefulness of her neck, and I could not understand why it had taken me so long to see the truth: I was in love with Fanny. It was Fanny who shared my thoughts and feelings; Fanny who was like me; Fanny who was part of me.

She turned round and saw me.

‘I have brought you something,’ I said. I noticed she was wearing my gold chain round her neck, and William’s amber cross. ‘Would you wear these for me tonight instead?’

She smiled her acquiescence and, unfastening her chain, she turned round so that I could put the pearls round her neck. As she bent forward I was suddenly nervous. I fastened the necklace, telling myself that I had performed the same office for her many times before, but this time was different, for as I closed the clasp I felt my hand tremble. She straightened her head and looked at the pearls in the mirror, thanking me for them with her sweetest smile, then I gave her my arm and led her downstairs. all through dinner, I had eyes only for Fanny, and even when the guests began to arrive I could not take my eyes away. She greeted them all with a mixture of sweetness and intelligence, no longer tongue-tied in company, but setting everyone at their ease by talking to them of their own concerns and replying with the same ease to their questions about her own. As I watched her, I found myself wondering how it had happened, how long she had been like this. Had she suddenly blossomed? Or had I simply not noticed the moment at which she had turned from a hesitant girl into an assured woman.