Chapter Twenty #4
He stiffened his spine and scowled at her. “I resent that, Fanny. I was never going to end up with Elinor, but I really think I stand some chance of happiness with Julia. She is a good, sweet girl.”
“Good, sweet girls do not catch husbands in such unseemly ways,” Fanny snapped. “You have thrown yourself away, and worse, you have cost me Norland.”
“Fanny, you cannot go on like this—but I will not argue with you.”
“I know,” she moaned. “I know I cannot go on like this—but what do you care for my suffering?” Fanny felt exhausted from the strain of it, and yet she could not accept defeat.
Not yet. “They whisper about me, I am sure of it,” she muttered, glancing around at the crowd of revelers.
“How I despise them,” she sighed, her heart souring with contempt for their merriment.
“I am sure they only look at you to wonder why you should wear black to your own ball.”
“I am grieving,” she said flatly. “Suffering a terrible loss.”
Edward was silent, but she could sense his frustration. “I hardly know what to say to you,” he admitted.
Fanny looked blankly at him, and a moment later the supper set was called. “Well, Miss Julia must be wanting you.”
“No—we are to dance the first and the last. I would dance with you, if you would only exert yourself a little, and not be so gloomy.”
“No,” Fanny said, glaring at her brother. “I shall be as gloomy as I like, and you can go on, and care little about it.”
Edward looked stricken, and for a moment Fanny hoped he was finally beginning to feel what he ought to—but it was only Mrs. Jennings approaching with a young lady clinging to her.
“Mrs. Dashwood, Mr. Ferrars,” Mrs. Jennings cried out to them, waving merrily.
“Have you met Miss Steele?” She hastened forward to perform the introductions, but Fanny was not past her disappointment that the beady-eyed little hussy was not the promised heiress she had hoped Robert might catch, and she could manage only a cold response to the girl.
Miss Steele was not put off by such frigid reception as this; she simpered and smirked, paying Fanny a great many false and banal compliments on the house and the ball, and then she set her wiles to work on poor Edward, until he grew uncomfortable.
Mrs. Jennings, who was wildly indiscreet herself, even had the grace to appear uneasy.
“Well, Lucy, dear, let us go and find Miss Dashwood!”
“I do so wish to meet her,” Miss Steele replied, but she had not taken her eyes off of Edward. The supper set was called out, and still Miss Steele stared expectantly at Edward. “Ah, but how I am longing to dance,” she said, batting her eyelashes.
Edward shifted uneasily, and stammered something.
Fanny was outraged at the little hoyden’s temerity, though she had yet to determine whether this outweighed her anger with Edward—perhaps she ought to let him fend for himself.
He did not— he never could—Edward forced a smile, offered the little adventuress his arm, and led her to the dance.
Fanny stared numbly at Mrs. Jennings until she moved away, and then continued to pace the ballroom, incapable of doing anything beyond letting the madness overtake her.
Maria Bertram had managed to enjoy the first half of the ball tremendously, despite what was looming over them all.
She danced the supper set with Henry, relieved that they had agreed to abandon all their previous pretenses.
Mary had forgiven them their scheming once they had promised to give it up, and Maria was glad that she and her future sister were to be friends again.
“I am glad we have made peace with Mary,” she told Henry as they danced together. “And Fanny and Mr. Rushworth, too.”
“So am I,” he agreed. “The whole thing was rather horrid of us.”
“At least it is done. And what fortunate timing for us—Julia’s engagement means I cannot be such a disappointment to my father.”
“Do not be wicked, Maria,” he teased her. “Let us be happy, and not resent her happiness.”
Maria gave a playful roll of her eyes, but she could not completely allay her annoyance with Julia.
Her sister had fancied Henry without any encouragement, then taken at once to Mr. Yates during the theatrical—she had even found the odious Robert Ferrars agreeable, for a time.
Julia’s throwing herself at Edward Ferrars could hardly come as a surprise, except perhaps to her father, but he cared only for one of his children.
“I suppose I am bitter,” she confessed as he led her away at the end of the dance. “She is to have her good news announced tonight, and yet we must wait. I wish Mrs. Rushworth would act already.”
“It is getting harder to say no to you,” he teased, winking at her as they followed the other couples up the stairs to the gallery that overlooked the ballroom. The dining room was beginning to fill up, but they lingered a moment before going in.
“I know you do not wish this to be on our heads, but Julia has brought the first disgrace to our family. I fear if we do not speak up now, some dreadful thing may yet prevent it. Can we not make our announcement tonight?”
“You really wish to vex your sister?”
“You wound me, Henry,” Maria purred, giving him a persuasive look. “I only think it right we should have some share of happiness tonight, as my brother and sister have.”
“I suppose you are right,” he conceded.
“Oh, Henry! Do you mean it?”
He smiled at her, and she knew he was at her mercy, just as he ought to be. “I will speak up, after your father makes his announcement.”
“Thank you, my love,” she whispered. She held onto his arm as they meandered into the large dining room above the ballroom and took their seats at the head table.
Here there was some strange shuffling about as their companions came into the room.
Her father sat beside John at the head of the table, but her mother snubbed him and went the other way to sit with Aunt Margaret.
Edmund and Elinor sat together, looking every bit as eager for their happy moment as Maria felt; Julia, on the other hand, came in with John Dashwood, looking very cross.
Just behind her, Edward Ferrars escorted Miss Lucy Steele, who had turned out to be a penniless adventuress, when everyone had been expecting an heiress.
Mr. Ferrars looked severely unhappy to have the pernicious creature so attached to him, for when he sat down beside Julia, Miss Steele took the seat on his other side, between him and his sister.
Maria could not resist feeling some amusement at the miserable tableau created by such a grouping.
Though she was happy enough in the anticipation of Henry’s announcement, she was tempted throughout the meal to glance over at Julia, who was growing visibly impatient with Mr. Ferrars as Miss Steele became more and more forward.
It was not until the end of the meal that her father stood to address the assembled guests.
“I must beg leave to make an announcement, before you all return to your dancing. I have the pleasure of welcoming a new son and a new daughter to my family, and I hope you will join me in offering the warmest congratulations to my son Edmund and his intended, Miss Elinor Dashwood, who grew up right here at Norland.” There was some little applause, and then Sir Thomas continued.
“And my youngest daughter, Julia, is lately engaged to Mr. Edward Ferrars, the brother of our gracious hostess.”
There was more applause from the assembled revelers, and Maria looked over at Henry, certain that now must be their moment.
However, before he could speak up, Miss Lucy Steele had fairly lunged at Edward Ferrars, and loudly screeched his name.
Fanny Dashwood had leaned over Miss Steele to begrudgingly toast her brother, but now she recoiled, and actually dropped her glass of wine onto the table as Miss Steele began to weep and shout. “Edward, what is the meaning of this?”
Henry held Maria’s hand under the table, and the two exchanged a look of astonishment before turning to gawk at their companions; it seemed everyone in the room was doing the same.
Julia looked affronted, but her countenance fell into a gape of horror as Miss Steele looked at her and cried, “Edward is engaged to me, and has been these five years!”
Chaos erupted in the dining hall. Julia, Edward Ferrars and his sister, and the shrill little Miss Steele were all shouting at one another at once, and Sir Thomas, sputtering with rage, had begun to move that way to intervene, but Fanny Dashwood acted faster.
She stood up and grabbed Miss Steele by the ear, fairly dragging her from the room.
Maria and Henry burst out laughing and then, as nearly everyone else had begun to do already, they hurried out of the room and into the gallery, to see what would happen next.
Marianne had known as soon as they were introduced that Miss Steele would be trouble, but her first concern was in keeping the nasty creature away from Elinor, for she would not see her sister’s night spoiled.
She managed to pawn her off on Robert Ferrars, for Marianne felt no good could come of Miss Steele’s interest in becoming acquainted with Elinor.
Marianne had made no effort to shield Edward from Miss Steele, who sat at his side during the meal, looking every bit a disaster in the making, and now Marianne began to regret it.
It was clear nobody had told Miss Steele of Edward and Julia’s engagement, and when she did hear of it, her reaction was nothing short of explosive.
The scene quickly unfolded, and Marianne had resolved she ought to do something about it, when Fanny Dashwood accosted Miss Steele, dragging the caterwauling adventuress from the room. Marianne was instantly on her feet, pursuing them, but so was nearly everybody else in the room.