Jane Odiwe - Willoughby’s Return

“No, William, you are never thoughtless,” said Marianne quietly. “Only your wife has that distinction.”

“Come now,” said Brandon, tucking the covers carefully around her, “you are overwrought and not yourself. I think a little sleep is in order.”

“No, William, I cannot sleep. I must talk to you, though I fear the outcome. I must tell you what happened in London, knowing that as soon as it is told you will despise me forever. Especially now, I must tell you the truth.”

William took her hand in both of his with such tenderness that Marianne could not think how to begin to tell him the horror of all that had taken place. How could she spare him?

“I do not wish you to tell me anything, Marianne. All I desire is that you love me, and I know that to be the case. I have a very good idea what may have happened to you, but I do not blame you, nor do I blame Mr Willoughby, you will be surprised to learn.”

Marianne stared at her husband in shock. She could hardly believe what he was saying.

“Men are foolish creatures, Marianne. They think all they need do is set up a wife with a home, a child, and a pocketful of pin money. They think that is all there is to marriage. They go about their own concerns without giving a thought to the lives of the women they leave behind. I have been guilty of neglect. Eliza told me as such, though I did not want to listen.”

“You have not neglected me.”

“On the contrary, I am guilty as charged. You were merely nineteen when I married you, a girl with no experience of the world who was thrust into the life of hostess, wife, and mother, with a large house to command before you were ready. Small wonder that you seemed desperately unhappy at times. I had lived your life span twice over by the time you came to Delaford and had many experiences to draw on in times of difficulty. Eliza reminded me of her mother's fate. My brother's cruelty and disregard made his wife turn to another for solace, and though he was the truly guilty party, she paid the ultimate price when he divorced and abandoned her. If she had been loved, as she ought to have been, she would never have suffered as she did. I too am as culpable as he. I have not taken such care of you as I should and have been guilty of spending too much time on matters of business and on matters of duty. I am sorry for it, but I only have myself to blame.”

“William, you don’t know what happened.”

“But I do. I left London when you most needed me. I had seen the way Willoughby was behaving toward you and I was still determined on going to see Eliza and Lizzy. If I had chosen to leave in the morning instead of rushing off in the middle of the night, or if I had asked you to come with me in any way that might have tempted you to accompany me, I am certain we would not be having this conversation. If I had loved you as I ought to have done, or half as much as you have loved me, you would not be lying there so ill and forlorn. Eliza made me see how difficult it must be for you to have her constant presence in your life. I want you to know I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. Can you ever forgive me?”

“William, can you ever forgive me?”

“Hush, Marianne, all that matters is that you came back to me. All I wish is for your happiness, and having you returned to me I can only say has made me the happiest of men.”

Marianne, unable to contain her emotions a moment longer, burst into tears. How would she ever deserve this worthy man? How would she ever be able to love him enough to return the devotion he lavished upon her?

“Please do not cry; you will become ill again. I cannot bear to see you ailing,” he began, reaching out to brush away her tears.

“Oh my darling,” she said, raising her eyes to his with a look of adoration, “I am not ill, on the contrary.”

William looked at Marianne, who was now smiling, almost laughing at him. She took his hand, holding it against her body as she watched his expression change. “I have some news, which I hope will please you. William, my love, you are going to be a father again.”

Colonel Brandon's joy knew no bounds. Throwing his arms about his wife, he cried, “Is it really true?”

Marianne nodded. “The doctor just confirmed it. I wondered why I had been feeling so strange of late. And then I remembered the delectable afternoon we spent before Lady Jennings's evening party.”

She blushed. Colonel Brandon was gazing at her with love in his eyes. “Which puts me in mind,” she whispered in his ear as he bent to kiss her. “You are looking very tired, my darling. I think it is time for your afternoon rest.”

Never had Marianne felt happier or more contented. Reunited with her husband and with the promise of a new life to come, a sister or brother for little James, Marianne thought she must be the luckiest woman alive.

They were sitting at dinner looking out through the window at the stunning views over the sea. The evening sunshine sparkled on the ruffled waves and on the fishing boats bobbing in the harbour. Lyme and its environs presented such a simple, good way of life that Marianne felt quite envious of the fisherfolk who sat chatting or mending their nets. Marianne had not stopped thinking about the little cottage they had just left and felt most anxious that Miss Williams and Lizzy should not be neglected in the future.

“Why cannot they come to live at the Park, William?” she asked her husband.

“Marianne, that is a most generous thought, but Eliza has made it very plain that she has no such ambition. She has her own life and simple though it might seem to our ideas, she is happy enough.”

“I am very ashamed when I think how I thought about Miss Williams,” Marianne admitted. “I have been very selfish and jealous without a proper cause. I am sorry, William, but I could not bear the thought of sharing you.”

“Let us not talk of the past but look to our future. We have a wonderful life ahead of us, my darling. I must admit, though Lyme has had a tremendous effect on my spirits, I am looking forward to going home to Delaford. We will return to London tomorrow to collect Margaret on the way.”

“I must confess I am a little worried about Margaret,” admitted Marianne. “I haven’t had a letter from her since I came away. Well, I expect she has been busy with Mrs Jennings. I do hope she is having a better time of it.”

“We must send a letter,” said the Colonel, “and thank Mrs Jennings for her pains. Why did you not tell me of this before?”

“I did not wish to worry you, and I imagined it was just thoughtlessness on Margaret's part,” said Marianne, wishing she had spoken earlier.

As the Colonel called to the servant to bring him writing materials, the landlady approached, two letters in her hand. “These have just come by express, ma’am, I hope it's not bad news.”

Marianne scrutinised the handwriting on the first but could not distinguish its owner. She eagerly undid the seal with impatient fingers.

Russell Square

Thursday, March 3rd

Dear Mrs Brandon,

I hope this letter finds you and Colonel Brandon well. When I first learned that Margaret had been left in London

quite alone, I must admit that I was somewhat surprised. Mrs Jennings, I’m sure, has done her best to keep Miss Dashwood entertained, but I have to say that to my mind at least, leaving a young girl in the charge of an old lady who may not always have her wits about her was perhaps ill-judged.

I do not wish to alarm you but I happened to be in town very early this morning when I saw Miss Margaret getting into a carriage I did not immediately recognise. On closer examination, I ascertained that she was not alone. I daresay there is a completely innocent explanation as to why she was sharing a carriage with Mr Willoughby, but I thought it might be prudent to inform you, as on relaying the information to Mrs Jennings, it appeared that she had no knowledge that Margaret was even out of the house.

I think it a shame that Mrs Jennings has been put to so much trouble looking after an ungrateful girl who has not the courtesy to tell her protector whither she is bound.

I hope to see you in London shortly,

With all due felicitations,

Mrs Lucy Ferrars

Passing the letter to William, she hesitated, waiting for the curious landlady to leave before opening the second. “Oh, William, I should not have left Margaret on her own. What can it mean?”

Marianne could not imagine that the latest letter contained any better news, but it was worse than she could possibly have imagined.

Upper Berkeley Street, March 3rd

Dear Mrs Brandon,

You must return to London at once and bring the Colonel with you if he can make the journey. I do hope he is feeling better. I am so sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, but I have to tell you I am very frightened for Miss Margaret's well-being. Mrs Robert Ferrars saw Margaret get into Mr Willoughby's carriage early this morning, and she has not yet come home. I hope all will be resolved before you return but I am most anxious to see you,

Yours ever,

Mary Jennings

“We must leave for London immediately,” Marianne cried, unable to remain calm. “What on earth can have happened? Oh, William, I knew Margaret was not in her right mind when I left, but I can hardly credit this behaviour.”

“I can credit Willoughby with almost any behaviour,” Brandon said grimly. “Come, we must leave now. I only hope we are not too late.”

Marianne could not voice her fears. It all seemed to make perfect sense. The balance of Margaret's mind had not been right. When Marianne thought about the outings that Margaret had been making on her own, everything suddenly seemed clear. Henry Lawrence was to blame, she thought. If he had not broken her sister's heart, none of this would have happened. Margaret had always been in love with Willoughby, an infatuation that had now brought her to ruin. But what had been his motives? What did he want with a young girl? That he might wish to take his revenge in some dreadful way for having been spurned by Marianne was a thought which immediately crossed her mind. She shuddered to think of the possibilities.

Their journey went off well. Colonel Brandon decided it would be quicker if they travelled through the night, only stopping for refreshment at a roadside inn and for the purpose of changing the horses. On the second day they arrived in town at five o’clock and travelled straight to Berkeley Street to find Mrs Jennings. However, they were dismayed to discover that she was not at home and, not knowing what else they could do for the moment but see if there were any more news in Manchester Square, they directed the coachman to return to their home. As the carriage came to a standstill, Marianne looked up at the house with a sinking heart. How they were to find Margaret and discover what had happened to her she had no idea. What was she to tell her mother? How would Mrs Dashwood react when she heard the news?

As they entered the hallway, Marianne was stunned and surprised to see Margaret running down the stairs toward her, followed not far behind by Henry and Mrs Jennings.

“Margaret, you are safe! Thank goodness! We were so worried about you,” Marianne cried, throwing her arms about her sister with a mixture of relief and genuine affection at seeing her. She looked toward Mrs Jennings, who smiled conspiratorially.

“Miss Margaret was in safe hands after all,” the old lady said.

“Yes, I am safe and it is all thanks to Mr Willoughby. Look, Marianne, I am engaged to be married and with the blessing of Lady Lawrence, too. We are to be married next week!”

Neither Marianne nor the Colonel could understand what Margaret was talking about, but there on Margaret's wedding finger sparkled an emerald and diamond ring for everyone to see.

“Speak up, Henry, what is the meaning of this?” William Brandon declared in a stern voice.

“It is true, Uncle William. Margaret and I have been secretly engaged for some time now.”

“But what has Mr Willoughby to do with it?” asked Marianne, who could make neither head nor tail of any of their story.

“Henry was leaving for the continent, but he wanted me to go with him, as we could not bear to be apart for a year as Lady Lawrence wished. We were to run away. Mr Willoughby pretended that he would help us when all the time he was plotting against our elopement,” cried Margaret.