Chapter Five
Fanny Price hung back as the rest of their traveling party made ready to depart the inn in Horsham on the final day of their journey.
The previous two days of travel had seen a great shuffling and maneuvering of companions in the three carriages that bore them all south, and as Fanny had always been last to be considered or to voice her own preferences in companions, she had suffered the most while complaining the least.
The first day she had been trapped in a carriage with her Aunt Norris, her cousin Maria, and Mr. Rushworth and his mother, which had been awkward for more than just herself.
The second day had been worse, for Sir Thomas spoke in the vaguest terms of his hopes to bring Fanny out more in society, and Lady Bertram’s gentle effusions on the splendor of Norland did little to offer Fanny either clarity or comfort in her precarious situation.
Mrs. Rushworth had confounded them all by declaring that she and her son would ride to Chichester to meet her Dashwood relations on the last leg of their journey.
Sir Thomas was quite shocked at the notion, and attempted to dissuade her.
“Surely not—we have but fifteen miles to bring us to Norland, and if your niece and her daughters are so near, they shall arrive on the morrow themselves,” he observed.
Mrs. Rushworth carried her point in the end, leaving the other nine companions to divide between the two remaining carriages. Fanny observed them all without much trepidation herself, as fifteen miles felt like nothing at all after two long days on the Great North Road.
Her forbearance was rewarded, for Mrs. Norris claimed the carriage containing Maria, Julia, and the Crawfords, and Sir Thomas surprised his wife by asking her to ride atop the other carriage with him and enjoy the prospect as Norland came into view.
“Why should you not have the first glance of your childhood home, my dear? You must be desiring the sight of it above anyone,” he said, almost smiling as he helped Lady Bertram up onto the seat.
Fanny felt a wave of private delight at being left with Edmund in the other carriage, for he had been so sullen the week before their journey, and she longed for his company, as it had always been before.
Anxious as she was about her position in the family, her uncle’s plans for her, and the grandeur of Norland, Fanny felt all her burdens might be halved if only she could speak with Edmund in their confidential custom.
She felt some reassurance when he chose the seat beside her, rather than on the opposite side of the carriage, though he remained silent as they set off. Comfortable in the quiet between them, Fanny kept her composure and savored the sense of peace that washed over her at their shared solitude.
Finally Edmund broke the silence, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Julia was very eager to share a room with you last night at the inn. I think she is excited at my father’s notion to bring you forward more.”
Fanny hesitated, not yet ready to seize the opportunity he had given her. “Well—yes, it was very kind of her. Although, I had only wondered if Julia perceived that Maria was wishing to share with Miss Crawford instead.”
Edmund nodded thoughtfully. “You are perceptive indeed. Yes, I suppose I might acknowledge what you must have already deduced. I believe Maria and Mary are eager to become sisters, though not in the way some of us might have once expected.” This last had been added on with a sigh, and Edmund turned and stared out of the window as the village gave way to the autumnal colors of the countryside.
Poor Edmund! It was not his way to speak in riddles, but she wondered if something had gone awry between him and Mary Crawford.
The affection between them, which had begun so early in their acquaintance, had hardly seemed hindered by Miss Crawford’s disdain of Edmund’s intention to join the church.
His admiration of the lady seemed only to increase with time, and he had confided some weeks ago that he was confident Miss Crawford would come around to the idea.
The theatrical might have put a strain between them, for Edmund agreed to participate only to spare Miss Crawford the embarrassment of acting with a stranger, and he must have felt all the ill-use of sharing his father’s admonitions for a scheme he had himself long opposed.
And yet, Fanny could not bring herself to inquire. The secret pain she had dwelt upon, these months of seeing Edmund pay his addresses to such a fine lady, now seemed hardly to matter if her uncle intended to be rid of her. It was on this matter that she summoned the courage to speak.
“Miss Crawford seems much friendlier to Maria recently, to be sure. I can well understand why they should wish to remove from Mansfield, and I suppose I can even see how poor Mr. Rushworth would wish to pursue her to Norland. But—forgive me—I cannot at all account for why my uncle would wish Maria to remain at Mansfield, and to bring me to Norland. He has spoken of wishing me to come out into society, and I had never expected such a thing—that is….”
Fanny began to fidget, and Edmund gently laid a hand between atop hers on the carriage seat between them.
He looked up at her in some torment. “My father cares for you a great deal, Fanny. He cares about your future, and wishes the best for you. You have never done anybody anything but good, and I agree that your kindness and innocence deserve some reward. Surely you would not wish to be at Mansfield forever?”
Fanny wished to never be parted from Edmund, who had been her friend and protector since she was a girl. Unable to admit such a thing, Fanny shook her head in frustration. “You support such a plan? You… would wish me to leave Mansfield?”
“I should miss you terribly, but I would be happy to see you go off into the world and make your mark upon it.”
Fanny felt her heart break at the notion that Edmund could part with her so easily; for her any separation must be unbearable.
She looked away as her lip trembled, and took in a deep breath to steady her voice before she spoke.
“But what is going to happen? My uncle spoke a great deal about my being out in society, and the advantages of our relations—but I feel as though some piece of the puzzle is missing.”
Fanny felt Edmund’s hand flinch, and a moment later he withdrew it.
“I am sure you will understand when you see Norland, dear Fanny. It is very grand. Coming out into society at such a place is a sort of boon to you—it shows the world that you have connections, as well as a very lovely person, of course.”
“Edmund, stop,” Fanny sighed, only half meaning it.
“I only speak the truth,” he replied, his brow knit in a serious expression.
“You must begin to reconcile yourself to the notion of being worth looking at, Fanny. Our cousin John’s wife has two brothers who are both quite eligible.
One of them may well take an interest in you, if you are introduced as you ought to have been when the Crawfords came amongst us, as a full member of the family, and not the quiet cousin in the corner. ”
Fanny was struck by the implication. Sir Thomas had betrayed by many looks and gestures that he was not best pleased by the attachment between Maria and Mr. Crawford—did they repine that Fanny had not been an option for him when he came amongst them?
She wrinkled her nose with distaste at the thought.
“Truly, Fanny, have you no wish to marry, to have children someday?”
“Of course I have, only I had no thought of it coming about in such a way.”
Edmund was not prone to exhibiting such exasperation with her, and she recoiled as he screwed up his face.
“My father is trying to help you, Fanny. You have long had a place amongst us, and you always shall, but there may come a time when something different may be preferable for you. You will not be pressed into anything against your wishes, but you must begin to have some wishes.”
Fanny had never heard him speak so harshly to her, and scarcely knew what to say. “You think me ungrateful?”
“No,” Edmund cried, turning her chin with his fingers until she would meet his eye.
“Never, Fanny. I care for you as my own sister, and I always shall. That is precisely why I want what is best for you. As a child, I looked after your comfort, and this is no different. I wish you to have more, and to experience more. Did not Mary make the same observation, when we were speaking of the plan? Our traveling to Norland is a greater advantage to you than to anyone else, I am sure. If you do not like Fanny Dashwood’s brothers, perhaps you may begin to understand what you do desire.
Or perhaps the mother may grow fond of you—one is always hearing of some old matron or another who has taken a liking to some young lady and plays patroness and matchmaker for her.
Perhaps you will get on well with our Dashwood cousins, and wish to be visiting them more.
They are handsome girls, I understand, and one of them is sure to marry well, and might often invite you to Town with her.
You are fortunate to face so many opportunities, if only you would learn to see them as such. ”
Fanny withdrew once more, mortified by her cousin’s scolding.
Beyond that, his view of her—as a sister—tore at her heart.
It was not a great shock by any means, nor could she blame him; she could only lament that her feelings had grown so very different, and so gradually that she had scarcely known it until the Crawfords came to Mansfield.
She was in love with Edmund, and without any hope of his feelings being returned—and worse, he favored the plan of his father’s that may separate them forever.
“I will try,” she said at last. “I will harden myself to the notion of not returning to Mansfield.”