“And it was so generous of Mrs. Jennings to gift you each a new gown when your cousins were ordering their wardrobes!” Mrs. Dashwood surveyed her daughters with admiration and declared that they were quite ready to depart for Haye Park and make merry.
It was fortunate that the event was a masked ball, for all the ladies whom Mr. Bennet was obliged to escort had wept before leaving the house. Elinor wore a fine white silk gown with silver sarsenet embroidered with tiny pearls, and her mask had been painted to look like white marble, with small white feathers sweeping upward on either side.
Marianne wore a burgundy gown with an overlay of silver and black embroidered vines, and her mask was crimson with black, thorny roses delicately painted around the eyes. She had chosen the ensemble just after learning of Willoughby’s dalliance with Colonel Brandon’s ward, when her mood had been darkest.
She hoped the effect would be off-putting to the gentlemen, for she was perfectly in earnest when she vowed to herself that she would never form another attachment.
Chapter Seven
Hertfordshire
Elinor had no partner for the opening set; she sat with her mother and kept a watchful eye on Marianne, who had stood up with the colonel. Mrs. Dashwood could sit in pensive silence with Elinor for only so long before indulging her own fancy. “It is a shame about Mr. Willoughby; I believe he had us all fooled, for I was so sure that he meant to marry her.”
“I hoped for it, as well, but it cannot be a great surprise that his aunt likely disapproved. The pursuit of an heiress must be why she sent him to London.”
“Oh, Elinor, I daresay he must be unhappy, too, for I know he cared for her.”
“I believe he did, but we cannot know how long mere mutual affection would have sustained them. His estate, and the one he shall inherit from Lady Allen, are both in want of funds to put them right, I understand.”
Mrs. Dashwood frowned. “You mean that he might have come to resent the connection, in time? That he may have cometo value the interests of his pocketbook over the concerns of his heart?”
“I believe many people do,” Elinor said sadly. She had wondered the same about Edward – could he love her at the cost of his inheritance, and the support of his family?
“I suppose that you will sayweought to think practically, that you and your sisters may not have the luxury of a love match, when your brother and his horrid wife are determined to deny you aid of any kind. And yet…” Mrs. Dashwood watched Marianne dancing with the colonel. They were having a very animated conversation, though Elinor was not convinced it was a pleasant one.
Mrs. Dashwood apparently did not perceive the discord. “How interesting that she should cross paths with another colonel – perhaps this one might cheer her. Colonel Brandon is a good man, and it is a pity she cannot like him, but Colonel Fitzwilliam is younger and more charming; I daresay one might almost consider him handsome.”
Elinor looked skeptically at her mother. When Marianne learned of Edward’s secret engagement, and Elinor revealed that she had known of it already, Marianne suggested that perhaps Elinor’s feelings were not as deep as what she felt for Willoughby. Elinor was wounded, for she felt it like a dagger in her heart, and she began to wish that the reverse should prove true, that Marianne’s feelings may prove shallower than they imagined, that her sister might begin to heal this wound.
“As much as I should wish to see her forget Willoughby, we ought not make the same mistake as when Colonel Brandon was presented to her, for she will only balk at the notion. She needs time. Besides, I am sure the colonel had not singled her out. He means to dance with as many ladies as he can; he told usas much yesterday. And Marianne was rather rude to him about Mr. Wickham.”
“They will sort it out between themselves – he has asked her for the first, which is not nothing.” Mrs. Dashwood eyed her daughter curiously. “Unless you would prefer to make more of his asking you for the supper set? You had a great deal to say to one another as we walked him from the village yesterday.”
“I should think it difficult to grow acquainted with any newcomer if one does not speak to them,” Elinor said with a shake of her head. “It may amuse you to imagine some grand romance for us, but I know you would not really wish to part with Marianne and me so easily.”
Mrs. Dashwood was almost astonished by Elinor’s pragmatism. “Of course I would! I wish you girls to have whatever shall make you happiest –whoevershall. Poor Marianne has had her heart broken, and you will not tell me anything of Edward’s visit, though I was so sure he had come to propose to you.”
“He is not at liberty to do so – Fanny told you as much before we left Norland. I expect he quite dreads being pushed at some heiress while he is with his mother in London.” This much was true, but Elinor had not told her mother everything – she knew that the truth about Lucy Steele would break her mother’s heart, and she already grieved for Marianne.
“As if you would mind if he were disinherited! He does not have Willoughby’s responsibilities. He could simply take orders, or perhaps he could live at the cottage with us.”
“Forgive me, Mamma, but he may mind it very much.” Elinor frowned at her hands in her lap. If Edward had no care for his inheritance, he would have owned to his attachment to Lucy Steele years ago.
Elinor began to wonder if that pernicious creature was the only obstacle. She had told him that she would wait until that obstacle was removed from their path, though she knew not how such a thing could be accomplished. Yet even then, how would they live? “Mrs. Ferrars would never accept me,” she sighed.
Mrs. Dashwood sipped her wine. “Then perhapsyouought to think of the colonel; it is indeed too soon for Marianne. I hear he is the second son of an earl.”
“You shall grow worse than my aunt, who you must know would likely murder me if I stood in her daughters’ way.” Elinor gave a playful shake of her head and pasted on a smile. Doubt began to creep into her mind as she thought of Edward, but like Marianne she had no wish to hasten into another romantic entanglement.
Across the ballroom, Marianne moved away from the colonel, though the dance had not ended, and he pursued her through a door that ostensibly led out to a balcony. Elinor was up from her seat at once.
Mrs. Dashwood laid a hand on her daughter’s arm. “Oh, give them a moment, at least. The colonel seems a man of honor – surely he will not take liberties. It is more likely he will give her some comfort in her misery, and I daresay nobody noticed them slip out. If they did, well, they are wearing masks, after all.”
“I must go to her at once, for I know she would wish it, and after everything that has happened, I am not willing to trust anybody implicitly upon so short an acquaintance!” Elinor hurried to the balcony door across the room, but not with such haste that she would attract unwanted attention to herself. She had been impressed by the colonel’s serious address to Mr. Bennet, and she hardly knew what she expected to find when she slipped out onto the balcony.
She was not surprised to discover her sister weeping, but her heart ached nonetheless. “Marianne, whatever is the matter? Sir, have you provoked her in some way?” Elinor glowered at the colonel in her best imitation of an imposing posture.
Colonel Fitzwilliam held up his hands in a pose of innocence. “As I promised, I gave your sister a complete account of the disciplinary measure that Lieutenant Wickham will face in the morning. I am heartily sorry that it is unpleasant to hear of; I cannot tell you what I would give to have never encountered the man at all.”
