Chapter 1: The perfect companion
Chapter Text
Edward Ferrars grabbed his suitcases from the taxi, told the driver to wait for him, and rushed up two flights of stairs. He hit the doorbell and waited.
Just inside, Nick and Susan Gardiner were busy doing nothing. Nick was reading a book while Susan played a puzzle game on her phone. Their electric fireplace roared and sent a lovely glow across their quaint living/kitchen/dining area (it was all one room).
“The doorbell’s ringing,” Nick said, not looking up from his book.
“Yes, I know,” Susan said.
The bell rang again.
“I’m not expecting anyone.”
She shrugged. “Neither am I.”
“Hey, open up!” a voice cried.
“It’s Edward!” Nick said, rising to his feet.
They tossed their mild entertainment aside and rushed to the door before Edward threatened to break it down. The door was opened, and he was ushered inside to the welcoming arms of his two best friends in the whole world.
“When did you get back?” Susan asked.
“Just a few minutes ago. I didn’t have time to come home. Do you mind if I leave my bags here?”
“That’s fine,” Nick declared.
“Well, you both look great. So long,” Edward said before he turned towards the door again.
“Now, wait a minute! We haven’t seen you for two weeks,” Susan and Nick protested, taking hold of the younger man’s arms and practically pulling him inside.
“I’ve got a date at 11. I’ve got a cab waiting,” Edward said, but it was pointless.
“So what?” Susan said.
“Yeah, you can’t just run off like this. How was your vacation?”
“Do you want some breakfast?”
“Can’t you stay for just five minutes?”
Edward laughed and replied to their rapid-fire questions with: “Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.”
“I guess he liked it,” Nick said, dryly.
“Come on, she’s waiting for me,” Edward said. “I haven’t seen her since Wednesday.”
“She who?” Susan insisted.
“My wife.”
“Your wife ? Nick, did you hear the man?”
“I’m feeling a little dizzy,” Nick said, miming as though the room was spinning.
Edward grinned at them. He was giddy with the news. “Well, she’s not exactly my wife yet. She’s going to be. It’s all arranged.”
Nick and Susan glanced at each other and then sprang into action immediately. They took hold of his arms again and pulled him to their small loveseat, telling him not to worry, and that it would all be okay, and they’d talk this through. Edward’s protests fell on deaf ears, and he was basically trapped on the couch with Nick sitting on the edge of his raincoat, holding him down.
“Now, you tell us all about it from the very beginning,” Susan insisted. The rapid-fire questions resumed in full force. “Who is she?”
“What’s her name?” Nick added.
“Why do you want to marry her?”
“How’d you meet her?”
“What does she do?”
“Tell us!”
“Wait!” Edward shouted, smiling and laughing when his friends finally stopped grilling him. He glanced back and forth between them. “It’s love, fellas. I’ve met the girl. She’s…well, I can’t describe her, but the first thing you notice are those dimples when she smiles.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Of course, that means she’ll make the perfect wife,” Nick added with a wry smile.
“No, listen. I’ve found her,” Edward insisted. “I didn’t think they came that way anymore. She’s sweet. Intelligent. The perfect companion.”
“But you haven’t told us anything about her!” Susan cried. “We’re not letting just any girl snag you without a struggle. Who is she? What does she do?”
“I don’t know. What do most girls do?” Edward said, stars in his eyes.
Susan scoffed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t find out anything about her!”
“Sure, I did. She wants me, she wants the life I want, the home I want, the fun I want.”
“What about her family?” Nick interjected.
“What about her family?”
“You didn’t find anything about them, either?” Susan said, feeling more and more distraught by the second.
“Sure, I did. She’s got two younger sisters. Or cousins…or step-sisters. Can’t remember which.” He waited, but Nick and Susan were silent for the moment. “Now, come on. Up!” He shoved until Nick moved off of Edward’s coat. “I really have to go. I’m going to be late. Where’s my wallet?”
Susan saw it on the couch where it had fallen out of his pocket, and she quickly snatched it, tucking it under her leg. She and Nick pretended to be in deep conference, all while Edward searched fruitlessly for the missing item.
“Well, what do you make of it?” Nick said, in a serious tone.
“Oh, I can see the whole thing. The father’s too old to work. One of the sisters has a terrible illness, and the other can’t work because she’s too intimidating and good at things. Too pretty to be taken seriously, you know.”
“And poor little dimples has to work her fingers to the bone in order to support all of them.”
“Hey, wouldn’t that be great?” Edward cried, interrupting the little tête-à-tête with a wide grin on his face. “Edward Ferrars comes into her life and takes her out of all that drudgery.”
Susan groaned. “Here’s your wallet. I give up.”
Edward blew a kiss to the pair of them and bade them goodbye, insisting he’d be back later to tell them all about this new woman in his life.
“Edward,” Nick cried, stopping their friend before he reached the door. He and Susan walked over with somber expressions on their faces.
“Listen,” Susan said, putting a hand on his arm. “When you find yourself with a whole family to support, and things get tough—”
“Of course, teaching at the university doesn’t pay either of us very much,” Nick said, gesturing between himself and his wife. “But you know we can always—”
“That’s okay, guys,” Edward said. “You’re really the best, you know that?”
“We know,” Susan said, and she laughed when he gave her air kisses on each cheek.
“It’s a Lake Placid thing. Refined society. You wouldn’t know.”
“Get out of here before your taxi leaves,” Nick said, and the pair of them watched him go with a bemused smile passing between them.
“What do you make of that?” Susan said, the moment the door closed behind Edward, who had come in and out of their home like a tornado as usual.
“I honestly don’t know,” Nick confessed.
Meanwhile, Edward was looking completely confused by the house staring down at him. It was one of those massive estates that took up half a city block and was at least four stories high. “I don’t think you’ve got the right house,” Edward told the taxi driver.
“You said 843, and that’s where we are,” the terse gentleman said from the front seat.
“She must work here,” Edward said before tipping the driver and stepping out.
He stared at the elegant front doorway and decided to check the staff entrance at the side instead. He found a gated entrance with the words “employees only” on it and sauntered through. Someone hadn’t latched it closed all the way, and it allowed him to bypass the buzzer. He approached the door and knocked.
“Hi, I’m looking for Lucy Steele,” he said to the young woman who answered.
Several pairs of eyes immediately locked on him from inside the kitchen. A tall man in his mid 40s stood and approached him with a slightly wide-eyed look. The other staff members were equally as dumb-struck.
He cleared his throat. “Lucy gave me this address. My name is Edward Ferrars?”
“Yes, Mr. Ferrars. Miss Lucy does live here,” the tall gentleman said, giving him a polite smile. He paused and turned back to grab his overcoat from the rack by the door. “Excuse me. Miss Lucy’s guests usually arrive at the front entrance.” The man seemed a little flustered, especially when he missed one of his buttons and had to start over.
Edward apologized and gave the others a tight smile. He noticed that they were all wearing uniforms. The women wore black dresses and the men wore three-piece suits. It was like something out of the 1940s. It was very Downton Abbey, or whatever that show was that his younger brother had been obsessed with for years.
“I’m Colonel Brandon. I’m the housekeeper here,” the man introduced himself as he led Edward down several corridors. Eventually, they arrived at the main part of the house, and Edward had to take a moment to absorb what he was seeing.
“Jesus,” he hissed.
“I’m sorry?” Colonel Brandon said, turning back and giving Edward a rather curious look.
“Oh, I just said Jesus. It didn’t mean anything,” Edward muttered, feeling a little foolish—both for having arrived at the staff entrance and for being spellbound by the vaulted ceilings and double winding staircases in the main hallway. The floors looked like polished marble. He wasn’t sure if he’d entered a lavish mansion or a miniature castle.
“That’s everyone’s first reaction, if you want to know the truth,” the colonel said softly, as if he was exchanging trade secrets with Edward.
Edward smiled at the man and realized the colonel was holding out his hand in order to take his coat. Edward felt entirely out of place already. Maids and housekeepers and an entire room for coats. It was all so entirely foreign to him.
The colonel was about to lead Edward towards the stairs, but a feminine figure approached from around the rear of the staircase. She was a lovely young woman wearing the latest fashion, no doubt. Only, she had a bandaid at the top of her forehead—cleverly hidden by a set of curly bangs.
“Your uncle’s left for church already, Miss Marianne,” the colonel said as he grabbed a faux-fur lined coat and draped it over the young woman’s shoulders.
“You can call me Marianne, Brandon. We’re alone.”
Colonel Brandon flushed slightly and glanced over her shoulder. Marianne turned back and gave Edward a glance up and down. “Nice to meet you,” she said mildly.
Edward opened his mouth to reply, but Marianne had already turned back around to speak to the housekeeper.
“Did I get home alright last night?” she asked.
Brandon lowered his voice, but the marble floors and elegantly paneled walls turned a whisper into an echo. “You called me at 3. I made sure you got in alright.”
“How did I get this bump on my head?”
“You slipped once or twice, Ma’am. In your bathroom.”
Marianne sighed. “Please don’t call me Ma’am when my head is pounding.”
Brandon ignored this. Instead, he just turned and opened a drawer on the chic side table near the front door and pulled out a travel-sized Tylenol bottle. “For your headache, Ma’am.”
Edward wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn that the colonel was teasing the young woman.
She just groaned and deposited the bottle in her designer purse. She turned back at the door to say, “I’ll want a drink in my room when I get back.”
“Yes, Miss Marianne,” Brandon said, but his impassive face gave nothing away. Though, Edward thought he saw a muscle twitching along the man’s defined jawline. Colonel Brandon was back to business as usual as he turned and addressed him. “If you’ll come with me, please.”
Edward wanted to ask the man a host of questions (namely what someone had to do, or who they had to kill, to get the kind of money to buy a place like this), but he was too distracted by the massive vases overflowing with flower arrangements, painted portraits on the walls, and—yes, he was absolutely certain that was a crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the vaulted ceiling. Edward moved towards the stairs, but the colonel walked past them. He led him to a small set of double doors, and Edward was surprised to realize it was an elevator.
“If you’ll wait in the living room, Sir. It’s the second button,” the colonel said as he closed the doors, leaving Edward alone in the mirrored elevator.
He gave himself a quick once-over (flattening down a part of his hair that always stuck up at the back) and realized he was thoroughly under-dressed. There were 5 floors to choose from in the elevator, and he had no doubt that they all belonged to the Steele family. If only Lucy had told him—
The elevator buzzed, and he opened the double doors. When he exited, he glanced over the balcony, only to realize he could have just as easily taken the stairs. Seemed like a waste of electricity in his mind.
He walked over to the nearest door and opened it, only to be confronted with more finery. Designer furniture as far as the eye could see. He chose the least intimidating chair and sat in it, feeling more out of place than the time he’d tried to get a job at a tanning salon when he was only 15. The girl at the desk had basically laughed him out of there, since he was freckle-faced with a mop of ginger hair on his head.
“Edward?”
He rose to his feet and followed the voice into the hallway. The moment he saw Lucy, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“Edward, please—the staff,” she said, gesturing with her head to the empty hallway behind them. He could hear the faint shuffling of feet, but that was it.
He smirked and just pulled Lucy into the relative safety and privacy of the massive living room so he could kiss her again. He pulled back to gaze down into her lovely face. “Where are we?” he asked, gazing around himself at the ridiculously lavish room.
“Where I live,” Lucy said, but she stepped back and examined his clothes with a shake of her pretty blonde head. “Edward, don’t you have anything nicer? And your hair—”
“Seriously, Lucy. What is all this?”
“I told you. It’s where I live,” she said, and she smiled her perfect, dimpled smile.
“It’s enormous. It’s like Grand Central Station.” He called out as if he was a yodeler and then shook his head. “Bad echo.”
“Stop criticizing this house or I’ll call security,” she said.
“There’s security here?” It was a silly question, given the size and value of the place. “I’ll take my chances, he declared. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her, but she evaded him with a small laugh.
“Edward, stop. I’m off to church to talk to—”
“Wait, don’t you want to know what happened?” he said, knowing she’d get a kick out of it. She nodded, and he told her he’d arrived at the staff entrance.
“You didn’t!” she said, sounding a little put out with him and far less amused than he’d hoped.
“Well, I thought you were an administrative assistant or some rich old lady’s caregiver or something. You sure you aren’t?”
“Absolutely certain,” she said.
He shook his head in amazement. “Then, you’re rich.”
“We aren’t exactly poor,” she said with mock humility.
“You should have told me, Lucy. You really should have.”
She turned back and arched her eyebrow at him. “Would it have made any difference?”
“Yes,” he said, putting his arms around her. “I’d have asked you to marry me in 2 days instead of 10.”
Her smile faded, even as he pulled her down into his lap on a nearby armchair. “Aren’t you funny, Edward.”
“How so?”
“To talk about it.”
“‘It’? You mean money? Why, is it so sacred?”
“Of course not,” she said with a furrowed brow.
“I’m just ecstatic, that’s all. It’s like if I found out you played piano, I’d be delighted.”
“You mean being rich is like knowing how to play the piano?”
He shrugged. “They are both rather nice accomplishments for a young woman.” She didn’t seem to get his joke, and so he added, “Well, if I have to marry a rich girl, I guess I’ll just have to grit my teeth and make the best of it.”
“Oh, but you’re going to make millions, too.”
“Oh, no I’m not,” he retorted.
They engaged in a brief back and forth about this, but he finally said, “I’m just a plain, simple guy who doesn’t need to make millions, Lucy. I began working with these two hands, you know.”
“So did the man over the fireplace. That’s our grandfather.”
He glanced at the rather domineering gentleman staring down at him from high above the mantel and then back at Lucy. “Don’t tell me you’re part of the Steele family? The one that owns all those properties?”
She shrugged again. “Forgive us, but we are.”
“Well, listen—if you think I’m going to be some great wizard of finance, you’ve got…” His words faded when he saw the alarm in her gaze. He decided he’d save that discussion for another time. “It’ll be okay. It’s not all that serious, is it?”
Lucy let out a dry laugh. “Breaking the news to my dad about this engagement will definitely be serious.”
“I thought you said you were going to church?” he said, eyeing her form-fitting dress with an approving eye. She had a lovely, curvaceous figure.
“I am, and it’s the smartest thing I can do. If I tell Dad in church, he can’t talk.”
“Are you that afraid of him?”
“No, but this is still the best way. He’s a wonderful man, but he has to be handled just right.”
Edward grunted in reply. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Still, he knew how to make a good first impression. Lucy stood up and led them out into the hallway. He followed her and realized they were taking the elevator. He might have protested, only it would give them a brief moment of complete solitude that he thoroughly intended to take advantage of.
“You are going to drop me off at church and then come back here at 1, and you cannot be late. This first impression is extremely important,” she was saying as they waited for the elevator to come back up to the second floor.
“What if I crawled in on my hands and knees? Would he like that?”
Rather than share in his amusement, she just rolled her eyes. “Don’t joke about it.”
“Come on, Lucy. We can’t lose our sense of fun about this.”
“Are we likely to?”
“No, but…” he hesitated. “Do we have to tell everyone right away?”
“I have to tell my dad. He’d never forgive me.”
He smirked. “But it could be such a fun guilty secret for a while.”
She shook her head. “I can’t see how a secret is so much fun.”
“Can’t you?” he asked, and when she shook her head again, pouting a little, he relented. “Alright. We’ll do exactly as you say.”
The elevator opened, and they stepped inside. The mood between them sobered, and he pressed the button for the first floor.
“It’s getting pretty complicated,” he said.
“You didn’t think it’d be simple, did you?”
Edward glanced at her. He had hoped it would be. Only… “I guess I didn’t really think.”
Lucy was morose. “What’s bothering you?”
He sighed. “I just hate the thought of sitting down with another man and being practical about you.”
“You’re sweet.” She said, smiling at last as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It’s got to be done this way, though. You have to understand that.”
He turned towards her and met those brilliant blue eyes of hers. “I love you, Lucy.”
“I love you too, Edward.”
“And that’s the main thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s everything,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
He kissed her, and pressed her gently against the wall of the elevator. Only, neither of them noticed when the metal doors opened.
“Shame, shame,” a voice said behind them. “Is this the way to spend Sunday morning, Lucy?”
Edward stepped back and turned around to face the stranger. He found himself under the sharp gaze of a pair of dark brown eyes. She had wavy hair, but it was the same coloring as the young woman from before (Marianne, he recalled). Neither of them looked anything like Lucy, who was fair-haired and blue eyed.
“Who’s your partner? Anyone I know?” the woman continued.
“This is Edward Ferrars,” Lucy said quickly, wiping at her smeared lipstick. “Edward, this is my cousin Elinor.”
They exchanged greetings, and he was given a rather firm handshake from the unusual young woman. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as she glanced back and forth between them.
“Edward and I are getting married,” Lucy added.
“Well, that makes everything alright then,” Elinor said, moving to shut the outer doors to the elevator.
“We’re getting married in two months!” Lucy cried.
“What?” Elinor said, opening the doors again with a touch of alarm. She gave Edward a steely-eyed look and told him to come out into the light. The moment they reached the pillared entryway, she turned back and examined him with a critical eye. “Well, I’ve never even seen him before!”
“Neither had I until 10 days ago at Lake Placid.”
“How on earth did you meet?” Elinor said, her gaze continually darting back to Edward with a great deal of intrigue.
Lucy and Edward spoke at the same time, but he conceded and asked Lucy to tell it.
“I was walking along the road on my way to the skating rink when I ran into Edward carrying his skis.”
“I missed the ski lift,” he said, abashedly.
“Well, this is the stuff of Hallmark movies,” Elinor said. “Keep going.”
“Anyway, he had a strange look on his face,” Lucy continued.
Elinor squinted her eyes and pretended to examine Edward’s face. “Yes, I can imagine that.”
Edward gave her a quick smile of appreciation. He liked this woman’s quick wit.
“It was his nose,” Lucy said. “I stopped and told him that he probably didn’t realize it, but his nose was frozen. And then he said, ‘Thanks. I don’t suppose there’s anything you personally could do about it?’”
“That was bold,” Elinor interjected.
“She was bold to mention it in the first place,” Edward said, as a way of defending his honor. “Seemed to me she was looking to pick up a man.”
Lucy let out a soft laugh. “I know a good thing when I see it.”
The two of them leaned closer to give each other a kiss, but Elinor stopped them. “Hang on a minute. Does your dad know about this?”
“I’m heading to church to tell him right now.”
Elinor shook her head and, in a pretty good imitation of an old-timey crone, said, “This modern generation,” with a disapproving shake of her head.
Lucy walked ahead of them to grab her jacket from the coat room, leaving Elinor and Edward to walk side by side through the row of marble pillars.
“I hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into,” she said to him.
He laughed. “I have to admit, I didn’t realize I was marrying into a house with an elevator.”
“It’s not just the elevator. The place is haunted.”
“Ghosts?”
“Terrible specters, all wearing stiff tuxedos and designer gowns.”
“Any skeletons in the closet?”
She put a hand on one hip. “You mean Lucy didn’t tell you about Grandfather?” He shook his head, and she leaned closer to say, “He stole a bunch of profitable coal mines from some shareholders.”
“That’s not true!” Lucy protested, having returned wearing a fashionable woolen pea coat that perfectly matched her teal dress.
Elinor ignored her. “And I’m sure you’ve heard about me. I’m the black sheep.”
He couldn’t resist giving his best imitation of a sheep.
But Elinor was too quick for him. “That’s a goat,” she said, pointing a gloved finger at him.
“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Lucy said, flushing slightly.
“No, it’s too late. The engagement’s off,” Edward declared, shaking his finger at Elinor. “I won’t marry into a family with a black sheep.”
She grinned and shook his hand again. “I like this one, Lucy.”
Edward grinned at her.
“You’ll see him again at lunch,” Lucy said. “But right now, we’ve got to go.”
Edward turned around and gave her a warm smile and a wave before he and Lucy exited—through the front door this time. Elinor watched the two of them with a keen gaze. She sent a quick text to her sister, Marianne, and spun around to run up the stairs. Her absence wouldn’t be noted at church. She had something she needed to do instead.
Chapter 2: Down-to-earth
Summary:
“Fine. I like to drink to excess. I like to get so drunk that I forget all my troubles and can pretend to be carefree. There. Happy?”
“Not especially,” he admitted.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Edward kept checking his watch, only to realize the time wasn’t moving any faster. He walked the entire way to Nick and Susan’s until he felt almost as chilled as that momentous day when he’d first met Lucy. He could still recall the details clearly—his face numb with cold and his hands clenched tightly around his skis, feeling perfectly dejected. He had been in the midst of a personal crisis at that precise moment, when who should appear but the loveliest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It had filled him with an unusual and uncharacteristic confidence. Lucy brought that out in him. He was more outgoing. Impulsive. It was a side of himself that he never knew existed. Truth be told, he never would have imagined he was the type for whirlwind romances, either.
Nick and Susan had to agree with him.
“You seem like a different person,” Susan confessed, as soon as Edward unexpectedly showed up at their door for the second time that morning.
He was pacing in their main room in front of the fake fireplace with his cheeks, nose, and hands reddened from the cold (he’d completely forgotten his hat and gloves that morning, which went against his usual fastidiousness). “I feel like a different person,” Edward confessed. “And it’s all thanks to Lucy. She has this confidence in me—well, it’s hard to describe. She feels I’m destined for greatness.”
Nick exchanged a worried glance with Susan. “And does she know about your…plans for the future?”
“Not yet,” Edward said, still pacing in his winter coat in front of them. “But you were the ones who told me to take a holiday. You told me to take chances. Get out there. Have fun.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Getting engaged to an heiress after only knowing her for 10 days was certainly chancy.”
“I didn’t know she was rich when I proposed. But I won’t hold it against her,” he said, pausing briefly with a grin on his face. “If you could just meet her, you’d understand why this is a good thing.”
Susan held up a finger as if she was making a motion at a board meeting. “I’d like it stated for the record that I quite enjoyed the old Edward Ferrars.”
“Well, I didn’t,” he replied tersely. “The old Edward was unhappy. He was working all the time and didn’t have much time for his friends. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“Of course we do,” Susan said, frowning at him as if that was the stupidest thing he had ever said.
“We just…don’t want you to lose yourself," Nick added.
Edward huffed a sigh. “Am I likely to?”
Susan bit back a frustrated sigh. “Well, we didn’t know you were going to be rubbing elbows with the Steele family. A bunch of stuffy, rich people who are out of touch with the world.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got an ally on the inside. Lucy’s cousin Elinor and I are going to get along perfectly.”
Nick’s narrow eyes widened, and he ran a hand through his thick black hair. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
Edward felt a small pang of anxiety, wondering if there was some truth to his friends’ concerns. Still, he shook his head. He loved Lucy, and she loved him. That was the main thing. With that, he gave each of his friends a hug and bolted out the door—but not before Susan quickly tied a scarf around his neck and crammed a beanie on top of his head. He didn’t even seem to notice the additions to his wardrobe (and it wasn’t until he reached the front door of the mansion that he realized he’d forgotten to change into nicer clothes, as Lucy had asked).
When Colonel Brandon opened the door, he bit back a smile at the sight in front of him. “Welcome back, Mr. Ferrars,” he said in his usual stiff, polite manner.
But Edward caught the bemused glance at his head, and he quickly pulled the hot pink crocheted hat off of his head. “Gift from a friend,” he said, blushing beneath the wind-whipped flush to his cheeks. He felt all of his earlier bravado and confidence dissipating with each passing second. The marble pillars and echoey grand hall were certainly not helping.
“Miss Lucy isn’t back from church yet,” the colonel informed him, even as he took Edward’s coat.
“I can walk around the block or something,” Edward said quickly, feeling a sudden need to keep moving. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in some elegant sitting room by himself, awaiting an uncertain fate.
“You’re expected in the playroom,” Colonel Brandon said with a hint of amusement on his face. “Miss Elinor asked that I send you up the moment you arrived.”
“Elinor asked for me?” he said, smiling faintly.
“It’s the third floor,” the colonel said, gesturing towards the elevator in the back of the nearby staircase.
Edward waited for the colonel to disappear through the side door to the staff quarters before he raced towards the stairs. He ascended the first flight in record time, and he slowed down in order to admire the spiraling stairs leading to the upper floors. Despite the fact that he was a little sweaty and out of breath, he was thankful for an excuse to let out a burst of energy. He paused at the third floor, realizing it was identical to the ones below it. He saw paneled white doors lining the hallway. Every single one of them was closed.
Without knowing what else to do, he shouted, “Hey.” And again. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself!” a familiar voice replied from somewhere nearby.
“I’m lost,” he said, still unsure which direction her voice was coming from.
“You’ll get the hang of the place eventually,” she said, appearing at the nearest door with a smile on her face.
“Hi,” he said. Though he had certainly lost all of his false bravery, he felt a surge of reassurance to find a friendly face there to greet him. Somehow, the idea of passing the time with Elinor was a relief.
“Care for one?” Elinor said after a moment, holding up an apple. When he nodded, she just tossed it at him before disappearing inside the doorway.
He followed after her with a bemused smile but paused at the threshold.
Elinor turned back to watch him carefully. His reaction to this room was of the utmost importance to her.
Edward found himself transfixed by what he saw. It was still quite spacious, but half of it had a shorter ceiling, and there was a merry fire crackling away in the low hearth. It had plush carpeting and was littered with any number of entertainments for young children—board games, puzzles, rocking horses, stuffed animals, books, and all kinds of toys tucked away in cubby holes. The walls were adorned with a cheerful wallpaper of poppies and cornflowers, giving the entire space a cozy feeling.
“This is so different from the rest of the house,” he said, turning to find Elinor staring at him intently.
“This was our mom’s idea. Mine and Marianne’s, I should say. She thought there should be one room in the house where people could come up and have some fun.” She paused, and her expression turned wistful. “She used to be up here as much as we were before she died. I think it was kind of an escape for her. She was marvelous.” She suddenly cleared her throat with a sheepish look and muttered an apology.
Edward gave her an encouraging smile. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. She sounds like she was a lovely person.” They looked at each other for a moment, and he had the same sensation as the first moment he’d met Elinor—of finding an instant kindred spirit in a complete stranger. It was different from the way he felt with Lucy, which had been an almost explosive feeling of immediate attraction.
After a time, he decided it was prudent to stop staring at his future cousin-in-law and began wandering around the room. There was plenty to look at. There was a model schooner with intricate, hand-stitched sails ready to conquer the high seas. Bits of children’s artwork were framed and hung along the historic wood-paneled walls.
“That’s quite a doll,” he said, indicating a lifesize doll with curly blonde hair nestled among a pile of stuffed animals.
“That was Lucy’s. She loved it.”
“It looks like her,” he said, admiring the bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks. And then his eyes wandered to a large, stuffed giraffe standing proudly nearby. “I always wanted one of those. Did she love that, too?”
“Don’t you say a mean word about Leopold,” Elinor said, rushing to the stuffed animal’s side and pressing its ears flat. “He’s very sensitive.”
“Yours,” he said with a smirk.
“Looks like me,” she said, and she turned the giraffe’s head to mimic her own posture.
He gave her a curious smile before continuing his explorations. He discovered half of the room was vaulted with large beams going across. The far corner was filled with musical instruments of every shape, size, and variety. “Who’s the musician in the family?”
“My sister, Marianne.”
“I think I saw her this morning when I first arrived. At least, I saw somebody with a hangover.”
Elinor nodded her head with a somber expression. “That was Marianne. She could have been a fine musician.”
“What do you mean ‘could have been’?”
“If our uncle hadn’t interfered.”
He knew there was more of a story behind that single statement, but despite the sense of familiarity that had settled over them, he felt that any further questions would intrude on the family’s privacy. Instead, he walked over to a swing hanging from a thick beam on the other side of the room. “Who performed on the flying trapeze?” He leaned on it with one arm and bounced experimentally on the gymnastics mats lining the floor beneath it.
“All of us,” she said, laughing as she thought back to those rosier times of their childhood. She leaned on the other side of the swing while she mused aloud. “We have a horrible cousin named Henry Crawford. He and I used to swing on it and spit at each other.”
“It sounds like you had plenty of fun up here. A charmed life, I’d imagine,” he mused.
Elinor hesitated but decided she wasn’t exactly prepared to get into the finer details of her childhood with him—certainly not on their second time talking to each other. Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but Edward intervened with a timely interruption.
“Hey, are those first editions?” he said suddenly as he caught sight of a glass-encased shelf of books on the other wall. “I love old books.”
Elinor realized this Edward was becoming much more interesting by the second.
—
Downstairs, Marianne sauntered through the front door and removed her coat. She had opened her mouth to say something to the colonel only to realize that Mr. Palmer was standing in his place.
“I believe he was taking the drink up to your room that you had requested, Ma’am,” Mr. Palmer said.
Marianne thanked him and escorted herself to the elevator and up to the fourth floor. She opened the door to her room and was pleased to see Brandon pouring out a glass of white wine for her.
“Perfect timing,” she said, walking over and taking the glass before he’d had time to set it on the tray. She swallowed it down in moments.
“I take it that you enjoyed the church service, Ma’am?”
Marianne narrowed her dark brown eyes at him and caught the slight smile at the edges of his lips. She could always tell when he was teasing her, though from outward appearances, he spoke to her with the same crisp, officious nature as he did with all members of the Steele family. She sighed. “I don’t know who hired that organist, but she was half a beat behind the entire congregation.”
“Perhaps you could give her a private lesson.”
She sank down into a cushioned chair and gazed at him. “I don’t play the organ. I play the piano. It’s entirely different.”
He hummed and politely averted his gaze to the floor when she bent down to remove her high heels (giving him full view of her cleavage above the lovely dress she was wearing). “You also play the guitar, the banjo, the ukulele, and the drums. I think you’d be able to play the organ with no trouble.”
“Careful, Brandon. That almost sounded like a compliment,” she said with a smirk. He met her gaze, and she saw the apprehension around his gray eyes. “I’m teasing you,” she insisted, gesturing to the chair opposite hers.
“I should get downstairs—”
“Palmer is watching the door. Besides, you can’t spare 5 minutes for a friend?”
He sighed, and his face looked suddenly more careworn than usual. The look disappeared just as quickly, and soon, he was stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Very well. For a friend.”
Marianne stared at him for a moment and rested her elbow on the arm rest. She put her chin in her hand and examined him openly. “You seem like you want to say something.” She narrowed her eyes and pretended as though his own words were written on his face. “Yes, I can just make it out. You’re going to…comment on my drinking habits. Is that it?”
His averted gaze was confirmation enough.
“Very well,” she said, assuming a rather petulant tone. “I like to drink. So what?”
“It’s just that—it’s a lot more than just the occasional drink.”
She sighed. “Fine. I like to drink to excess. I like to get so drunk that I forget all my troubles and can pretend to be carefree. There. Happy?”
“Not especially,” he admitted. “It doesn’t have anything to do with—?”
“Willoughby? Hell no.” She paused. “Well, maybe a little.”
Brandon’s countenance darkened, and she saw the anger boiling just under his usual calm demeanor.
Marianne reached out and took hold of his hand. “Thanks for getting me away from him. If you hadn’t shown up that night, I don’t…” She shook her head.
“I’m glad I happened to be there,” he said.
She stared at him for a moment. Out of anyone in the family, she seemed to be the only one who could read Colonel Brandon’s more subtle expressions. She’d had her suspicions before (after all, his timing had been almost too perfect—showing up at the bar at the precise moment when Willoughby had planned on sneaking an intoxicated Marianne out to his car). And right now, she saw the same furtive look. It hadn’t been an accident that Brandon was there to rescue her.
She cleared her throat and dropped his hand. “Anyway. I’ll make an effort to cut back on the drinking. How’s that?”
His mouth lifted at one corner in the slightest smirk. “Are we going to talk about the bottle of tequila in your hiking boot?”
She sat up. “You went through my things ?”
He rolled his eyes, and she knew that despite their familiarity, he would never cross the line in such an outright fashion. “Of course not. Mrs. Jennings found it when she was vacuuming earlier.”
Marianne huffed an irritated sigh. “Fine. I’ll cut back on the drinking starting tomorrow.” With that, she downed another glass of wine. “Where’s my sister?”
“She’s with Edward in the playroom.”
Marianne was surprised by this piece of news. Still, she stood up and—without thinking—reached back to unclasp the top of her dress. For the first time, she was fairly certain she saw Colonel Brandon blush as he quickly rose to his feet and walked to the door. She decided she’d tease him about it later and slipped into something a little more comfortable before going in search of her sister.
She walked down the spiraling stairs to the floor below and realized she was hearing faint laughter in the nearby playroom. She paused by the door to listen.
“You’re not like most of the men Lucy brings home,” Elinor was saying.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, for one thing, you’ve got no trust fund or family business to inherit.”
“No money, you mean,” Edward retorted. “And I do quite well for myself. I’m an accountant at a law firm in town.”
“Oh, Uncle will like that.”
Edward seemed not to have heard this as he continued. “I do well enough, just not well enough to do what I really want. I need to find out what makes me happy.”
“And what do you really want?”
“I want to take a holiday. And not just to Lake Placid—I mean for a long time.”
“Why?”
“Well, the answer to happiness can’t just be paying bills or piling up more money.”
On the other side of the door, Marianne had to bite back an audible scoff at that statement. Oh, how little Edward knew of the “upper crust.” How little he knew of the Steele family’s love of money above all else.
“I need to know what it all means to me, and I won’t discover that by working behind a desk. As soon as I get enough money together, I’m going to take off for a while,” Edward was saying.
“Quit?” Elinor asked.
“Quit,” he confirmed. “I want part of my life to be for me, but I want it to be the young part. You know—retire young and work old. Come back and work when I know what I’m working for. Does that make sense?”
“That makes a lot of sense.” Elinor said, and Marianne could hear the smile in her sister’s voice. But Elinor’s tone sobered when she added, “Does Lucy know?”
“No, and I don’t want to get her hopes up until I’ve got enough money set aside.”
“She has enough for two of you. Or ten, for that matter.”
“I don’t want her money,” he said automatically. “I’ve got to earn it myself.”
“That’s pretty silly. But you’re alright, Ed. You haven’t been bitten by it.”
“By what?”
“The reverence for riches,” she said. “You’ve got to look out for that.”
“Nah, you don’t have anything to worry about from me.” There was a pause, and then he said, “Hey, does Lucy paint? She never told me.”
At Elinor’s loud protests, Marianne decided it was time to interrupt their private interlude. She stepped inside in time to see Elinor throw herself in front of Edward before he could lift the cloth from the easel in the corner.
Edward laughed, even as Elinor still blocked his way. They were standing quite close together when he asked, “What’s wrong? Is Lucy terrible at it or something?”
“It isn’t hers. It’s mine. There lies Elinor the artist—don’t disturb the ashes.” She had placed her hand in the center of his chest in an attempt to stop him, even as he had taken hold of the corner of the sheet.
Marianne caught Elinor’s gaze, and she watched as her sister was suddenly flushed and stammering an introduction. Elinor was rarely this jumbled and scattered, but Marianne decided to tuck that away for later in favor of examining the handsome man in front of her. And Elinor's earlier statement had been right. Edward was nothing like any man Lucy had ever dated before. Despite Edward's over-confident air at his first arrival earlier that morning, he was a bit awkward and uncertain of himself at times. But when he overcame this, he was quite clever and funny, too. He felt like a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stuffy mansion. Marianne saw the appeal immediately—and she knew Elinor did, too. And as for Lucy...well, time would tell exactly why she'd fixed her affections on such a down-to-earth sort of man.
Notes:
And here we go! Off to the races. <3
Chapter 3: Potential
Summary:
“I’m certain of it. Father just needs to look past his—well, he needs to see his potential.”
Elinor wasn’t entirely sure that Edward would enjoy being seen only for his “potential.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Marianne was reluctant to stay in the play room (“it gives me the creeps,” she had said, only half joking), but Elinor convinced her to stay. Besides, there was a certain matter that Marianne realized needed to be addressed. Marianne decided to take advantage of the brief moment alone after Edward went in search of the bathroom (“fourth door on the right. Or is it the left?” Elinor had teased, knowing it would send him in confused circles for a little while).
“What are you doing?” Marianne said, the moment the door shut behind him.
Elinor’s expression turned furtive. “I’m just welcoming Edward into the family.”
Marianne gave her sister an ironic look and gestured to the playroom. “This is your sacred space. You never invite anyone in here, let alone any of Lucy's boyfriends.”
“This one's different.”
“Yeah, I noticed. He's not a trust fund baby. Worse still, he’s not just some handsome face with no substance, riding his father's coattails—”
“Don't be mean,” Elinor said. “Lucy’s boyfriends haven’t all been bad.”
Marianne sighed. Her sister was always coming to Lucy's defense. It was always this way—ever since they were children. But she feared that, just like everyone else, Elinor had rose-colored glasses when it came to Lucy Steele. Everyone was taken in by Lucy's beauty and charm and couldn't see…well, it was no use trying to explain it. Elinor had her own preconceived notions about their cousin, and Marianne wasn't in the mood to argue. Her head still ached with a lingering hangover. Her discussion with the colonel hadn’t been all that encouraging, either. She was not in the mood.
“It's so important for Lucy to marry the right man. Don't you think?” Elinor said.
“Yes, I do.” Marianne was certain that her ironic tone went straight over her sister's head. Marianne just sighed and found her gaze drawn to a specific corner of the room. Her feet were already moving her in that particular direction, as if drawn there by an invisible thread.
The door opened, and Edward reappeared. He playfully chastised Elinor about her directions, stating he got lost three times in the maze of hallways with identical doors. After their sarcastic exchange, he turned his attention to Marianne. “How was church?”
Elinor suddenly remembered the purpose for Edward’s visit and spun around to stare at the back of her sister’s head. “Yes, did Lucy tell Uncle about the engagement?”
“I don't know,” Marianne said in a distracted tone. “I left them talking to some guy called Bertram.”
“That’s my boss,” Edward informed them.
“Uh oh,” Elinor said, giving him a sidelong look. “And is Edward Ferrars a good employee, or are you normally sneaking off to Lake Placid? Come clean. Tell us everything.”
“I keep my head down and do what I’m told.”
“Oh, you’ll fit in around here just nicely,” Elinor teased. Her attention was drawn to Marianne, who was tentatively reaching out towards a few of the musical instruments in the corner. She felt a pang of sadness, wondering how long it had been since her sister had played anything. She decided to broach the subject—if a bit evasively. “I’ve been telling Ed here about our childhood dreams.”
Marianne picked up a pair of drumsticks, tapping them experimentally on the cymbals and snare drum in a characteristic ba-dum-tssss , as if marking the punchline to a joke. Rather than drift into her usual morose thoughts, she deflected the attention to Elinor instead. “Did you tell him about wanting to be a nurse?”
Elinor flushed. “I hadn’t gotten around to that.”
Marianne glanced over her shoulder and gave Edward a decided smirk (which looked almost identical to her sister's). “She had dreams of being Florence Nightingale, but she fainted when they did the class on catheters.”
Elinor rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t need—”
“Or how about the time you joined some strikers in Jersey?”
“Well, how was I supposed to know Uncle was on the board of directors for that company?” Elinor retorted.
“And then there was the acting—”
Elinor quickly cut her sister off with a wave of her hand. “There were lots of humorous little episodes.”
Edward had a sudden picture of Elinor standing in a spotlight on stage, reciting Lady Macbeth’s “Out Damned Spot” soliloquy. He found the idea intensely amusing. He had trouble concealing his laughter when he asked her, “Were you a terrible actress, too?”
Elinor gave him a brief glare, without any real heat. “I was pretty good, actually. I just didn’t know what I wanted to do—I mean in the long term. But we don’t really have the luxury to decide in this family. You see, everyone in the Steele family is expected to work for the business . Carry on the family legacy, or stay out of the way. Thankfully, I don’t have the particular skills (or patience) to be a realtor. But Marianne on the other hand…”
“Can we talk about something else?” Marianne interjected tersely. She reached over and touched a few of the piano keys. She moved closer and played a few chords. “It’s in tune,” she said in an awed tone.
“I thought you might want to come back up here someday,” Elinor said in an off-handed manner, as if it was no big deal. She was secretly pleased by her sister’s reaction. It was wonderful to see Marianne standing in front of their mother’s upright piano. It brought back a flood of happy memories from their childhood—private lessons and miniature performances, all for a select audience in the playroom. Elinor smiled. “You could finish that concerto you were working on.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Ah, yes. The Dashwood Concerto in F Major.” She couldn't seem to stop her fingers from flying across the keys, even while she kept her body away from the bench. The promise of music was like a magnet, pulling her closer no matter how much she tried to resist it.
“Play it for us,” Elinor prodded. “Come on. Ed and I can bear it. Can’t we?”
He smiled and nodded his head. He didn’t, as a general rule, like the nickname. But Elinor had somehow latched onto it—and he discovered he didn’t really mind.
“Fine,” Marianne sighed as she finally took her seat on the bench. Except instead of her own concerto, it was “The Maple Leaf Rag” by Scott Joplin.
“Come on, I was bragging about you!” Elinor protested, tapping on her sister's shoulder.
Marianne gave the pair of them a considering look before she turned back to the piano with a deep, steadying breath. She ignored the clutch of pain in her chest as her fingers fell on the keys in a familiar pattern. After a while, the ache subsided, and a deep satisfaction began to take over. The music came to her automatically, as if it was part of her.
The door opened, and the impromptu concert came to an abrupt end.
“What are you all doing up here?” Lucy declared, looking a little flustered but still as pretty as ever. She didn't wait for a reply as she rushed over to Edward. “Oh, what a morning!” She gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning to her cousins.
“What did Uncle say?” Elinor asked.
“He isn’t home yet,” Lucy said as she ran over to the intercom on the wall and buzzed down to the kitchen. “Colonel, I want to know the minute my father returns home. Buzz up here twice.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the colonel’s voice said through the speaker.
“How was Uncle in church? Did he blow a gasket?” Elinor prompted again.
“He was alright, but this next part is going to be tricky.” She turned and started to say something to Edward, only to stop with a sudden frown tainting her delicate features. “Oh, you didn’t change clothes like I asked. Look, his shirt is all wrinkled,” she bemoaned, exchanging a harried glance with Elinor.
Elinor reached out and tried to wipe the wrinkles out of the front of his button-up, but it was useless. Lucy started readjusting his hair, and the moment Elinor reached for the tie that he had hastily put around his neck, he finally protested.
“I feel like a goat being prepared for slaughter!”
Elinor bleated in his ear.
“Now, that’s a sheep,” he teased, and he enjoyed the knowing smile that passed between himself and Elinor.
“What you need is a drink,” Marianne said from the corner while she plucked away at the banjo. She decided to avoid the piano for the moment.
“I think we should give him some coaching,” Elinor declared, clasping her hands excitedly.
“Happy to,” Marianne said, walking over with the banjo and perching herself on the arm of a nearby loveseat. She began to play a jaunty tune as if they had rehearsed this routine a hundred times. In fact, it was the first time in a long time that Marianne and Elinor had had any fun.
“Now, the first thing Uncle will want to know is—what’s your situation?” Elinor said, pacing in front of him like a drill sergeant.
“My situation?” Edward said, glancing at Lucy who only gave him a long-suffering look. Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood for her cousins’ antics.
“ Money ,” Elinor said, snapping her fingers impatiently. “How much have you got?”
“Elinor, please!” Lucy protested, but she was staunchly ignored.
“Well, I know you wouldn’t expect a man of Uncle’s situation to be concerned about it, but money is our god here.”
It was Lucy’s turn to flush, but she was indignant. “It isn’t true.” Once again, her protests went unheard.
Elinor crossed her arms, lowering her voice in a pretty good imitation of her uncle’s as she regarded Edward. “ Well , young man?”
Edward smirked and pulled out his wallet. “At the moment, I have precisely 35 dollars in my pocket and a ticket stub to a movie in Lake Placid. My bank account is a little drained at the moment in order to pay those pesky monthly bills.”
Elinor maintained her haughty tone as she said, “You don’t have any platinum credit cards? No blank checks from dear old Dad?”
“I have a few shares in common stock tucked away—”
“ Common ! Don’t say the word,” Elinor said with a gasp. She turned to Lucy with an indulgent smile. “I’m afraid he just won’t do, cousin. He’s handsome, but I don’t think Uncle will be able to look past his other failings.”
Lucy’s laugh was polite, but she seemed eager to end this ridiculous play-acting. “Can we just—?”
“How are you socially?” Marianne interjected.
“Not much there, either,” Edward admitted.
Elinor pretended to clutch at an imaginary string of pearls around her neck. “You mean to say that your mother wasn’t even a member at the club ?”
“Afraid not,” Edward said with a laugh.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Lucy tried, but she was once again ignored by the others.
“You must know some prominent people,” Marianne added. “Just drop a few names.”
“Oh, just casually,” Elinor said. She assumed an affected, high-class accent, as though she was some sort of 1940s socialite. “I was at Mrs. Ordenkirk’s brunch last Tuesday, when who should I see but Mrs. Marble? ‘Eddie,’ she said—she calls me Eddie—”
“Elinor, shut up!” Lucy all but screeched.
“Those acting lessons really paid off,” Edward said under his breath to Elinor.
They were about to continue in this vein when Lucy finally put her foot down. She was done being ignored. “Now, listen—this is really important.”
Just then, the intercom buzzed twice. The four of them froze in place.
It was Lucy who sprang into action. She stood up, readjusted her perfect, form-fitting gown, and said, “Elinor and I will go down and talk to my father first. Edward, you’ll go with Marianne.”
“Why can’t I just come downstairs with you?” Edward asked, which was a perfectly understandable question.
Marianne and Elinor knew that this element of play-acting was all necessary, and all for the benefit of one Mr. Gregory Steele, who was perfectly disagreeable if he wasn’t handled correctly.
“You’re not supposed to have arrived yet,” Lucy insisted. “Marianne will help you find a tie, and she’ll tell you exactly when to make an appearance.”
“This is getting pretty complicated if you ask me,” Edward protested.
“Nobody asked you,” Lucy said, poking a finger in the center of his chest. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she pushed him away with a harried expression. “There’s no time! Out, out,” she ushered him out of the room behind Marianne, and she and Elinor walked towards the staircase.
“So, what do you think of him?” Lucy asked, once the two of them were alone.”
Elinor’s entire countenance brightened. “Lucy, I don’t know how you found him, but whatever you do, don’t let him get away. It feels as if life walked into this house this morning!”
“I'm glad you like him.” Lucy smiled to herself as she linked arms with her cousin. “I know he’s not the usual kind. It’s part of the reason why I like him so much.”
“He's like a breath of fresh air. It’s why I had him up in the playroom. I wanted to see if he was just another stuffed shirt, but he's not! He appreciates the simple things, and he has all these ideas and plans.” She turned and took Lucy by the shoulders. “And he's your chance. He's your ticket out of this place. You can get away and finally—”
“But that's just it. I want Father to see that Edward has the same qualities that Grandfather had.”
Elinor hesitated but made sure that her smile didn’t fade, even as she listened with growing skepticism.
“You don’t know Edward,” Lucy continued. “You don’t know how far he’s come—”
“Or where he’s going?”
“Yes, exactly ,” she said animatedly. “I’m certain of it. Father just needs to look past his—well, he needs to see his potential.”
Elinor wasn’t entirely sure that Edward would enjoy being seen only for his “potential.” Still, she didn’t have any right to say anything. Lucy clearly loved him, and Elinor wasn’t about to do or say anything that jeopardized Edward’s chance to join the family permanently. Perhaps he’d set aside his own plans for a holiday to make Lucy happy. She supposed people did things like that for people they really loved. Elinor set her own misgivings aside and pulled her cousin in for a hug. “Listen, if everything goes well, when are you going to announce it?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Oh, that’s so exciting.” She was struck with a sudden, wonderful idea. “Would you let me give the party, Lucy? Uncle’s not allowed to be involved. It’s really important to me. Let’s have some fun in this house before you leave it.”
“Well, sure,” Lucy said, sounding a little uncertain. “If he doesn’t mind.”
“No ‘ifs’ about it,” Elinor insisted, latching onto her idea with her usual stubborn resolve. “Just a few people. Just your friends and Edward’s, and up in the old playroom. Would you let me do this for you?”
Lucy gave her an indulgent smile. “I’d love that. Really, I would.”
“And no one else is to mess with my party. It’s really important to me.”
“Well, of course,” Lucy assured her.
“I’m serious. If they do…I won’t come.”
Lucy saw the tears in Elinor’s eyes. And she knew that her cousin was already mourning the fact that Lucy would be moving out as soon as she was married. She’d leave Elinor to fend for herself against the patriarch of the Steele family—who really did give Elinor a hard time. She just didn’t know how to handle him like Lucy did. “Elinor,” she said, taking her cousin’s hands. “It’ll be awful to leave you.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave,” Elinor confessed.
She felt a rush of loneliness already. It wasn’t as though she was without company. She had Marianne, after all, but Uncle kept her busier than ever with work. It had always just been Lucy and Elinor who were thrown together by the circumstance of not being part of the family business. Lucy was exempt, of course, being the only child of the family and the one who could do no wrong. And Elinor had proven herself to be so totally inept at the family practice that she was only asked to stay out of trouble and not draw attention to herself. Because heaven forbid she tarnish the name of Steele—even though she and Marianne had kept their mother’s married name.
Gregory Steele had been magnanimous enough to adopt the two teenage girls after their mother’s death (and he wasn’t afraid of reminding them just how generous he’d been—holding it above their heads like some golden carrot). Elinor had refused to change her last name, simply because even though their mother had been miserable with Henry Dashwood as a husband (and good riddance to him, wherever he was), at least Margaret Dashwood had been able to escape the Steele home. To get away from her brother’s wealth, which tied everyone down like they were part of some long chain gang.
But now, here they were—Elinor trapped in the home like a white-collar prisoner on house arrest while her sister Marianne slaved away at a job she detested.
Elinor shook her head, realizing Lucy was giving her a worried look. “Well, I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to get out of here or I’ll lose my mind.”
“Sweetheart,” Lucy said, her pretty brow furrowing with concern.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Elinor said, wiping at a stray tear. “I’m being dramatic, as always. Just look out for yourself. And Edward.” With that, she took Lucy’s hand and walked with her to the front parlor where Gregory Steele was waiting for his family.
Notes:
Hoping to get this uploaded before AO3 maintenance hits again - it's been very spotty today.
Enjoy!
Chapter 4: A confidence not his own
Summary:
Edward, of course, knew that this entire conversation was just a barely concealed façade for an all-out inquisition. And Gregory Steele didn’t like to be called out on his bullshit.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Edward followed after Marianne dutifully, and he tried his best to keep track of the number of staircases and hallways they traversed on their way to—well, he wasn’t sure where they were going.
“So, a whirlwind romance, huh?” Marianne said as she led them into a rather lavish bedroom. It was the first time she’d spoken in several minutes. He’d been too anxious to break the silence as his mind was preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with the Steele patriarch. And Marianne was lost in her own thoughts.
“Yeah,” was all Edward said, clearing his throat a little as Marianne walked straight to a pair of double doors, which opened into a massive walk-in closet. Edward realized his entire apartment could fit inside it.
Marianne glanced back at him with the same dark brown eyes as her sister, but the skepticism was clear on her face. She wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about. That he’d be perfectly fine. But she wasn’t exactly sure if he would. She doubted Edward had the sort of backbone required to handle himself around Gregory Steele. Marianne used to have one. She could have held her own, even with the most belligerent or rude people imaginable (her brief stint as a restaurant hostess as a teenager had taught her that particular sort of resolve), but her uncle had done his best to whittle away at her own self-confidence over the years.
She shook away such somber thoughts. Instead, she opened a drawer, grabbed a tie, and handed it to him. Edward’s hands were a little unsteady as he made a few attempts at a Windsor knot. Marianne watched him for a moment before taking pity on him. She swatted his hands away and reached up to readjust the tie.
At that precise moment, the closet door opened.
Colonel Brandon blinked and stared between the two of them.
Marianne realized how it looked—alone in a closet with her hands currently resting on Edward’s shirt collar. She made a point of stepping away from Lucy’s boyfriend. It wasn't the first time Brandon walked in on Marianne and some man in a closet—only this time, she wasn't drunk. Furthermore, she had no interest in Edward. He was undeniably handsome (auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a smile that lit up his whole face), but she preferred her men a little older. Perhaps taller with broader shoulders, too. Lighter hair with gray eyes instead of brown. Someone a bit like…
She said nothing and suddenly rushed past the colonel without a word. The departure was so abrupt that the two men were left standing there, staring at each other in bewildered silence for a half a second.
Marianne reappeared, looking flushed and a bit peeved as she glared at the pair of them. “Are you coming?”
—
Elinor took hold of Lucy’s hand and held it tightly. “Don’t let him bully you,” she said.
Lucy gave her a smile that was almost sad—pitying, even—and nodded her head.
Gregory Steele was waiting inside. His short, stocky figure was impeccably dressed. Not a single white hair on his head was out of place, and his three-piece suit was just as pristine and wrinkle-free since he’d put it on that morning.
The two women greeted him with a kiss on the cheek (to which he acknowledged with a single nod of the head.
“Did you speak to Mr. Bertram, Father?” Lucy asked, hovering at his elbow, all while he stared down at the phone in his hand.
“Briefly,” he said. His white mustache was twitching slightly (a bad sign—Elinor gave Lucy a bracing look). He cleared his throat and said, “But there are other things to be considered. What is the young man’s background?”
“What did Mr. Bertram say?” Lucy insisted, cleverly avoiding the question.
He gave his daughter a stern look. “We shouldn’t rush into things, dear.”
Lucy met her father’s clear blue gaze unflinchingly as she said, “We’d like to get married at the end of March.”
“That’s less than two months away, dearest,” he replied, but his expression softened. How could he remain so stiff and unfeeling when he saw the dimples around his daughter’s perfect smile? How could he possibly, when she looked so much like her late mother? It was nearly impossible to deny her anything.
“I’m not sure I could stand a long engagement,” she said, and she tilted her head slightly, sending her blonde hair across her shoulder in a lovely wave.
“He’s very charming,,” Elinor prompted, hoping this would help. But she caught the inquiring look from her uncle and the warning one from Lucy. She wasn’t supposed to have met him yet, after all. “Or, so I’ve heard,” she added quickly.
“Charm,” Gregory muttered, and his frown only deepened.
Marianne entered the room at that moment, but she didn’t greet her uncle. She just sauntered past him and into a nearby armchair.
Elinor cleared her throat before her uncle could fix his attention on Marianne. “Well, if you’re after someone with merit, I’ve heard Edward has that, too. He’s a real catch, in fact.”
But Gregory could not be deterred. “Did you read the financial reports I sent to you this morning, Marianne?”
Marianne’s gaze turned ice-cold as she stared back at him. “I try to take Sundays off while I can.”
“That reminds me. I’d like you to make a practice of remaining in the office until 6.”
“What for?” she retorted.
“As an example for the others in the office. There’s a promising young intern I’d like you to take under your wing—you remember Charlotte Heywood? She’s the daughter of the senator. It could look exceedingly good for our company to hire her on.”
“Uncle, there’s nothing for me to do in the office after 3,” Marianne protested.
“You’ll find something.”
Her temper flared. “If you think I’m going to sit in my office and just fake—”
Gregory gave her a look that silenced her immediately. “Did you understand me, Marianne?”
“Yes, Uncle,” was all she said as she lifted a magazine off the nearby table and disappeared behind it.
Elinor watched her once-vivacious and lively sister shrink into her seat. She seemed smaller. Deflated. Elinor hated her uncle for this reason, among others.
Lucy was either unaware of this or was too preoccupied with her own interests to care. She stood in front of her father and repeated her earlier question. “What did Mr. Bertram say about Edward?”
Gregory Steele sighed and took a seat in a nearby armchair. He seemed reluctant to reply. “His report was not at all unfavorable.”
“That must have been a blow,” Elinor said with heavy sarcasm, but her uncle ignored this (as he did with most things she said).
“Mr. Bertraim said this young man had his eye on a promising stock that was on the rise,” he continued, turning to Marianne and asking her to write a note about buying into said stock in the morning (to which Marianne only gave the vaguest grunt in reply). “Still, we have to consider Mr. Ferris’s background. I’ll need to know more about him than his name and where he works.”
“It’s Ferrars,” Lucy corrected. “But, Father—”
Gregory gave her a noncommittal response, clearly not having heard her as he was lost in his own thoughts and plans. “When this Edward person arrives, I think he should find me alone so that I may conduct the inquiry on my own terms. But I don’t expect the subject of the engagement will come up in our first discussion.”
“Would you like me to hide under the sofa and take shorthand notes?” Elinor said with a bland expression.
Gregory clearly missed the humorous intent of her offer. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
“I think the poor guy should see at least one friendly face in the courtroom,” Elinor insisted.
Gregory didn’t have a chance to rebuke such a statement when Colonel Brandon entered the room saying that Mr. Ferrars wished to be announced.
Mr. Steele nodded and turned to the three young people in the room the moment the colonel departed. “You will all excuse yourselves on one pretext or another.”
Marianne and Elinor exchanged a wry glance. Lucy, meanwhile, took hold of her father’s arm and held it tightly. “Father, remember what we talked about. I know what I want.”
Gregory gave his daughter an indulgent smile. Of course, he’d do everything in his power to oblige his only child whom he adored above all others. But he wasn’t about to agree to this ridiculous engagement without first ensuring himself that she would be treated with the respect she deserved. Without knowing that this Edward person was worthy of his daughter.
The door opened again, and Edward was ushered inside—looking dashing in his borrowed suit jacket and tie. Elinor saw the uncertainty on his face, but he was hiding it quite well beneath a warm smile.
“I hope I’m not too late,” he said as he walked forward and shook Mr. Steele’s hand. “I got caught in a traffic jam.” His eyes darted to Elinor—which was a mistake, since she was clearly holding back laughter. He managed to compose himself and addressed the older man with a respectful gaze.
But then, Gregory started offering introductions between his two nieces and Edward—who were supposed to pretend as though this was the first time they were meeting each other.
“How do you do?” Edward said as he shook Marianne and Elinor’s hands. Again, he had to fight the urge to grin like a giddy idiot when he saw the amusement sparkling in Elinor’s eyes.
This, at least, was a nice distraction from the anxiety rolling around in the pit of his stomach. Gregory Steele was every bit as stern and uncompromising as he’d heard. The older man had a way of staring at a person and making them feel two inches tall, even though Edward was almost a foot taller than the gentleman.
The smile that Mr. Steele offered was polite but not at all welcoming. He cleared his throat and glanced between Lucy, Marianne, and Elinor with a hard gaze. “If you three will do the telephoning we talked about, I’ll do my best to entertain Mr. Ferrars.”
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Lucy said as she kissed her father’s cheek. She gave Edward a bracing smile, which went a little ways at calming him down.
Still, he hated the idea of being alone with the stern older gentleman, and he watched Marianne and Lucy’s departure with growing anxiety.
“I believe you had something you wanted to do?” Gregory said, gazing at his other niece who had resumed her seat.
Edward turned around and watched as Elinor stared back at her uncle with a mild expression of surprise. “Me, Uncle?” She shook her head. “I can’t remember a thing.”
Gregory was clearly perturbed by Elinor’s blatant attempt to stay in the room (and it was obvious even to Edward that he had been trying to get himself alone with the young man who wished to marry his only daughter). Edward, on the other hand, was so intensely relieved to have Elinor in the room that he felt a surge of confidence.
Gregory made a few sad attempts at small talk to avoid the topic he didn’t wish to discuss in front of Elinor. His smile was strained as he said, “We seem to be enjoying quite an unusual freedom from snow this winter,” Mr. Steele said with a ghost of a smile.
Edward saw his opening, and he took it—with unusual forthrightness of character. “I like snow. That’s why I went up to Lake Placid.”
“Oh, yes. My daughter Lucy just came from there,” Gregory said, as though this bit of information was entirely new to him.
“Yes, I know,” Edward began, but Lucy’s father wasn’t about to relinquish his control of the conversation.
“Are you in business in New York, Mr. Ferrars?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m with Bates and Bertram.”
“An excellent firm,” Gregory said with a smile that looked almost genuine. “I understand you were born in Baltimore. I used to have a lot of good friends there,” the older gentleman said as he paced in front of the fire. “I was particularly close to the Fitzwilliams family. Perhaps you knew them?”
“I don’t believe I ever met them.”
“Or how about Clarence White? He was a candidate for senator.”
“No, Sir.”
“There was a Phillip Evans there, too.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know him, either,” Edward said. “And I’m not sure I would have been likely to be in the same circles as yourself, Sir. My father had a small grocery store in Baltimore.”
“Oh, indeed,” Gregory said, visibly disappointed by this tidbit of personal information.
Edward was certain there was a way to sugar-coat the truth, but he realized it would be a mistake to present himself as anything other than who he was. A man from humble stock. And so, after exchanging a brief glance with Elinor (during which she gave him a subtle thumbs-up), he dove into the topic with a confidence that didn’t feel like it was his own. “My father wasn’t very successful with his business, and after he died, he left a lot of debt, which my mother worked hard to carry. She passed away after I turned 16, but thankfully, I had an uncle who owned a roofing business who was willing to hire me.” Edward cleared his throat, hoping to infuse a little humor into his sad little tale. “He wasn’t very good at it, though. He tended to get drunk. Still does, actually.”
Gregory was visibly unamused by this. And he looked more stern than ever when Elinor added, “We have an uncle like that, but he keeps off roofs.”
Edward bit back a laugh with a valiant effort as he continued. “After my uncle’s business failed, too, I found jobs wherever I could. I was a mail truck driver serving the rural communities, and I worked nights at an Amazon plant to save money for college. Got myself through school working as a garbage truck driver on my off days.”
“Admirable,” Gregory Steele said under his breath, though his brow was more furrowed than ever.
“Well, they just happened to be the only sort of jobs I could get. I learned a lot at Harvard, but I learned a lot more doing the kind of work with my hands. You know what I mean?”
Elinor glanced back and forth between them, and she knew that Edward was trying his hardest to relate to a man who prided himself on being from a family that “pulled themselves up by their bootstraps,” who worked hard for their money and earned it with sweat and hard labor, just like Grandfather. When, in fact, Gregory Steele lived a cushy life that had nothing to do with getting his hands dirty. At least, not in the traditional sense.
When the Steele patriarch was silent and solemn for a moment, Edward cleared his throat. “Anything else, Sir?”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, looking flustered. He wasn’t used to being addressed so directly.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know about me?”
Elinor watched her uncle carefully. Edward, of course, knew that this entire conversation was just a barely concealed façade for an all-out inquisition. And Gregory Steele didn’t like to be called out on his bullshit.
On the other side of the door, Lucy was listening intently to the snippets of conversation she could hear. Marianne pretended not to care (but she was actually rooting for Edward. Of all of Lucy’s boyfriends, he was the most normal of the bunch. Which was actually bothering her.)
“So, why Edward?” Marianne asked.
“What?” Lucy said, turning and giving her cousin a puzzled look.
Marianne rolled her eyes. She wasn’t fooled by Lucy’s perfect little pout. “You know what I mean. He’s not your usual type.”
This clearly irritated Lucy, but she didn’t let it show. “He’s handsome, and he respects me. He has so much to offer. I just know he will be perfect.”
Marianne’s frown deepened. She wasn’t certain she liked the way Lucy had worded it. As if she had plans to change Edward. Maybe she thought he was biddable enough to be molded into a carbon copy of Gregory Steele—a hard-edged man of business who was rolling in money. Somehow, the idea of Edward sitting at a large desk in the family realty office didn’t sit right with Marianne. She just couldn’t picture it.
“Oh, it’s not going well. Father’s just raised his voice,” Lucy whispered.
She leaned close to the door, and they could overhear Mr. Steele saying: “We shall have to look into the matter further. I don’t know you, young man. I can’t make a decision about my daughter’s future when you’re a perfect stranger.”
“I’ll give you every chance to get to know me, Sir,” Edward replied. “How about tomorrow?”
“No, tomorrow’s no good.”
“Tuesday, then?”
“Better make it Friday,”
“I’ll be away on business Friday. I think tomorrow would be better,” Edward replied, with a note of finality in his voice.
Marianne was actually impressed, because this left her uncle sputtering and trying to think of some way to get out of it. But Lucy chose that precise moment to barge back into the room.
“So, what about it, Father?” Lucy said, rushing over to Edward and clasping his arm. “Can we get married at the end of March?”
“Come on. Say yes, Uncle,” Elinor added in a pleading tone. “You won’t regret it. Edward’s perfect.”
Gregory was looking more severe than ever, and a little flushed, when he realized he’d been backed into a corner. “This matter is too important to be decided off-hand.”
“But, Father, we wanted to get married on the—” Lucy began.
“You’ll be married when I have come to a decision and on a day of my choosing,” he interrupted, and some of his usual foul temper was bleeding through his civility.
“Our plan was the 30th.”
“The 30th is out of the question,” Gregory said, standing to his full height with the stiffest posture imaginable. He had set his mind against it, and that was that.
“But, Father,” Lucy started again.
Gregory’s eyes flew to the door, which opened to admit the colonel. “Yes, Brandon?” he said in a clipped tone.
“Lunch is ready, Sir,” the colonel said, glancing around at the various expressions and noting the tension in the room.
“Mr. Steele,” Edward began, hoping to reason with him. “If you would just—”
“ Lunch , Mr. Ferris,” Gregory all but shouted in his face. And then his eyes darted down to the tie Edward was wearing. His temper fizzled into a look of confusion. He touched his own tie and cleared his throat. “A very interesting necktie you have.”
Edward was too startled (and a bit mortified) to say more than: “Thank you.”
Lucy tugged on his arm, and she was the first to lead the group out of the room—hopeful that a change of location, and some delicious food, might brighten her father’s spirits enough to revisit the conversation.
But Gregory wasn’t finished. He was still visibly puzzled. “I have a haberdasher who has made my ties for many years. I seem to recognize that particular pattern.”
Marianne and Elinor bit back a snort.
Edward was flushed, but he managed a polite smile. “That’s probably because this is one of your neckties.” Even Lucy managed to join in the merriment, as soon as Edward added, “Marianne thought it might bring me luck.”
Gregory’s face cracked into the first smile all day, and this—at last—was a hopeful sign of things to come. Perhaps Mr. Steele could be reasoned with, if he only saw how much Lucy and Edward loved each other. Lucy seemed to think so, especially since she didn’t relinquish her hold of Edward for the entire walk to the formal dining room.
Marianne linked arms with her sister as they brought up the rear of the little group. She caught the strained look of uncertainty on Elinor’s face and asked, in a whisper, “Do you think he’ll say yes?”
“I sure hope so,” Elinor replied. Her eyes didn’t move away from Edward as she added, “It will be so good for Lucy.”
“Yes,” Marianne said. “I’m sure it will.” She squeezed her sister’s arm and silently promised herself to keep a keen (and sober) eye on her sister. There were two possible outcomes: either Uncle agreed, and the marriage went off. Or he said no, and Lucy would be forced to break her engagement to Edward. Either way, Elinor was at great risk of having her heart broken if she wasn’t more careful.
Notes:
I'm not sure why, but this chapter took me AGES to write. Maybe it was having to grapple with Gregory Steele and his snobbishness. How dare he look down his nose at Edward??
And we will all have to keep a close eye on Elinor. <3
Chapter 5: Formalities
Summary:
He realized (and not for the first time) that he was in deep trouble. She was his boss’s niece, after all. And he was just the help.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Colonel Brandon ran a hand through his light brown hair and reminded himself that he had to get a haircut soon, or else he’d start looking positively shabby. He needed a shave, too. He glanced at his own reflection in the mirror and caught sight of the careworn lines around his gray eyes. He shook his head, chastising himself for being so self-absorbed. It was unusual for him to be quite so concerned about his appearance. He chalked it up to his upcoming birthday. The dreaded 40 was just over the horizon.
He was just undoing the buttons on his overcoat when his intercom buzzed. He bit back a frustrated sigh and answered it.
“Colonel, I wonder if you could fix my father his usual evening tray before you leave?” Lucy asked. Though, it wasn’t really a question. He knew exactly what she was going to say next. “I know you’re probably about to leave, but you always fix it the best for him. Mrs. Jennings always forgets something.” She let out a tinkling laugh, as though he would share in the amusement.
Instead, he just hit the button and replied, “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll bring it up shortly.”
“And could you bring it to my room? I’d like to deliver it to him myself.”
He paused, and then, “Yes, of course, Ma’am.”
This was an unusual request. But he figured Lucy was getting desperate, and so she would try to bribe her father into a definite decision with his favorite night-cap: a snifter of brandy, a fresh cigar, and a slice of lemon meringue pie (which was the only daily indulgence he permitted for himself, despite having an incurable sweet tooth—though this fact was not known to anyone outside of the Steele house).
With another sigh, he sauntered back into the kitchen. Mrs. Jennings let out a cry of triumph and held out her hand to Mr. Palmer. “Five dollars. Fork it over,” she demanded.
Mr. Palmer sighed and pulled out his wallet. “One of these days, the indispensable Colonel Brandon will actually get to take his break on time. And then you’ll owe me money.”
She just grinned and pocketed the money.
The colonel ignored the two of them as he prepared Mr. Steele’s tray. He was used to their teasing, but he was annoyed that Mrs. Jennings was almost always proved right. It was like pulling teeth to clock off on time for his one free evening a week. Somehow, Lucy or Gregory would have “one last request,” which would inevitably cut into his time off. He loved his job. He did. Still, with 40 looming ever closer, he was starting to feel restless. He wondered if he was actually going through some sort of mid-life crisis.
After dropping off the tray with Lucy, the colonel turned back to the staircase, fully prepared to kick off his night of freedom at his favorite cider house down the street. Only, he stopped at the top step. Something had caught his attention and wasn’t relinquishing its hold. He was drawn up two flights of stairs and to a rarely used portion of the house.
The playroom. And through the open door, he heard a muffled sound. A sob.
He walked forward and hesitated before he realized who it was. He stepped into the room and didn’t stop until he’d placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Shit!” Marianne cried in surprise. She spun around and gave him a startled look before she hastily wiped at the tears on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, taking several steps away so that his hand fell away from her. Her back was turned, and so she missed the sardonic look on his face.
“I haven’t seen you cry since your mother’s funeral.”
Her shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh. “It’s ridiculous. I just…” Her eyes wandered over to the piano, but she refused to allow herself to admit the full truth to him. And so she settled on something else. “I’ve had to stay late at the office every night this week. There’s nothing for me to do, and I’m just…I’m just tired is all.”
He opened his mouth to call her out on her bluff, but instead, he found himself asking, “Do you want to go out for a drink?”
Marianne turned. She looked both surprised and a little hesitant. “I thought it was your night off?”
“It is.”
“Then, what are you still doing here?” she demanded. She was annoyed that he’d caught her in such a compromising position. And in this particular room.
“Miss Lucy needed one last thing.”
“Of course she did,” Marianne said, rolling her eyes. Selfish brat , she wanted to add. But she refrained.
Brandon must have read the unspoken insult on her face because he was biting back a laugh when he said, “Well, are you busy?”
“No,” she said, automatically.
“Then, come with me. Let’s get a drink. As—friends,” he added, a little too quickly. “A friendly drink.”
A slow smile filled her face, and it was almost like looking at Marianne from 10 years ago. Before Gregory Steele got his hooks into her. “A friendly drink sounds nice,” she said. “Besides, I haven’t had anything in a few hours.”
“A few hours? You’re cutting back.”
Marianne was tempted to swat at his arm, but she felt a sudden hesitation to touch him at that moment. “Shut up,” was all she said.
Still, the smile didn’t leave her face, even as they parted ways to get changed into something more comfortable.
“Ready?” she asked him, when she met him by the servant’s entrance. She felt a strange need to keep her gaze fixed on his face. For some reason, she couldn’t stop staring at the rest of him, because he was wearing jeans. And he looked very good in them.
“After you, Ma’am,” he said, lifting an arm to indicate she was to lead the way.
“And for that offense, you’re buying the first round,” she said, putting her finger in his face.
“Yes, Marianne.”
She glanced at him but had trouble holding his gaze. She wondered if allowing him to call her by her first name was actually a mistake. Damn, she needed a drink.
Once they were finally settled at a corner booth in the colonel’s favorite cider house around the block, he took a long sip of his beer for courage before saying, “You hate your job.”
Marianne almost choked on her drink. “I beg your pardon?”
“You hate your job,” he repeated with a shrug. “So, why do it?”
“It’s not easy for me to just…I can’t just quit. And besides, who likes absolutely everything about their job? Do you love yours?”
He frowned. “I enjoy most of it.”
“So, you like being at everyone’s beck and call? You like having only one night off a week, which is almost always interrupted? You like having to rescue errant nieces who get themselves drunk and in trouble?”
“Sure, there are elements of my job that I dislike.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “But I don’t mind the last part.”
Marianne felt the need to take a long drink from her glass of beer. But something about his initial question grated against her. Because it was what she had been asking herself lately. “I would leave if I could. And then I know for certain that Uncle would cut me off if I did, and—well, this is going to sound awfully childish, but I don’t know what I’d do without the comfort of all this money. I’ve never had to get a job on my own. I’ve never had to pay rent or bills or take care of myself like that. I’m…terrified.”
Brandon held onto his glass to keep himself from reaching across the table for her hand. “You’d learn, just like the rest of us.”
She stared back at him with an unreadable expression. “I think I’m too much of a coward. I could never stand up to him.”
Well, he certainly couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Not when he saw the tears starting to form in her dark brown eyes, because he knew for a fact that the old Marianne wouldn't have withstood such treatment from her uncle. He reached for her hand and held it. “I hate seeing you so miserable. If you don’t get out soon, I’m worried…”
She saw the concern on his face as his words trailed off. She swallowed hard, because she knew what he wasn’t saying. Because she had been aware of the dangers herself—that she would simply shrivel up and turn into a shell of her former self. If she hadn’t already. She pulled her hand away from the colonel’s grasp and shoved her glass away. “I think I need to go home.”
He was too polite to protest. He left a tip on the table and waved at the bartender he knew by name (this was his usual haunt on his nights off). They walked outside, and he was startled when Marianne suddenly turned and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Thanks for the drink. And the talk,” she said, a little muffled against his chest.
He barely had a chance to wrap his arms around her before she stepped back and started walking towards the Steele house again. They were both quiet and lost in their own thoughts.
Marianne was wondering if she could find the courage to leave her job and get out of the house—away from her uncle and his wealth and control over her life. And maybe she would. Just…not today. Maybe tomorrow, or next month, or the next. There was that large contract she still needed to finish for him.
The colonel, on the other hand, couldn’t deny how nice it had felt to be that close to her. He realized (and not for the first time) that he was in deep trouble. She was his boss’s niece, after all. And he was just the help.
—
The next morning, it was announced (by a smiling and happy Lucy) that her father had finally agreed to the wedding. Marianne congratulated her, but it was Elinor who seemed over the moon.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said, beaming from ear to ear. “It’ll be lovely having Edward as part of the family. And remember, you said I could plan the party. I’ve got it all worked out. Just a few people—just Edward’s friends and Lucy’s—and up in the old playroom. No white ties and no engraved invitations. No formalities. It’ll be perfect .”
Marianne caught the look that passed between Lucy and Mr. Steele at the table, and she felt real pity for her sister, especially when Lucy said, “Of course, sweetie. We may have to make a few changes, but I’m so happy to have your help!”
Over the next few days, Lucy began to make such alterations to Elinor’s plans—small enough at first that no one would notice. She informed her that they would need to invite the Crawfords, because they were family. And if they invited the Crawfords, they absolutely had to include the Watsons, who would be deeply offended at being excluded. There were also a handful of businessmen who were keen to meet Edward, and she felt that the party would be the perfect opportunity to introduce them.
“It’ll give him a leg up, you see,” Lucy said, giving Elinor her best and prettiest pout. “Don’t be angry with me, Elinor. You know how my father is.”
Elinor had been too good-natured (and perhaps blind) to accept this as anything but the truth. At first, anyway. Since the number of guests was growing by the day, it couldn’t be held in the playroom. It was only natural that embossed invitations should be sent out, and since a lot of important people would be there, it quickly became a black tie affair. Suddenly, it was out of Elinor’s hands completely. Gregory Steele had inserted himself into the planning somehow. She found herself debating whether or not she’d stick to her original plan of not attending the party if it wasn’t exactly how she had wanted it.
“You seem a little down,” Edward said, pulling her out of a deep reverie.
She almost forgot that she was presently on a stroll with her cousin’s fiancé, and that it was merely 3 days until the big engagement party (on Valentine’s Day, no less. How tacky). She cleared her throat and wasn’t able to hold his direct gaze for too long. “Who, me?” she said, trying to sound innocent.
“Yes, you,” he said, nudging her with his elbow.
“I’m not down. I’m just…cold,” she said evasively. She readjusted her coat, which was fashionable and flattering but hardly practical.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. Without warning, he spun her around to face him. “Close your eyes.”
“I beg your pardon?” she squeaked, realizing he had his hands on her shoulders.
“Go on. It’s a surprise.”
Elinor did what she was told. She felt as though she was holding her breath—until she realized he was wrapping a scarf around her neck. As a final touch, he even placed a hat on top of her head.
“Um—” She opened her eyes and stared up at him with a bemused smile.
“Courtesy of my best friend, Susan. She makes them.”
“It’s purple,” she said, staring down at the lovingly hand-crocheted items with a wave of affection for someone she’d never even met. “My favorite color.”
“I know. I told her all about you. She feels like she knows you and your sister as well as I do.”
“That’s really sweet,” she said, gazing at him with a bit of bewildered curiosity. “What do the Gardiners think of Lucy?”
“They haven’t met her yet. I wanted to surprise them at the party, when she’s at her most dazzling and charming.”
Elinor nodded, and though it was painfully obvious she wanted to say something, she just turned and resumed their walk with a sigh. “I overheard Lucy saying there will be over a hundred guests at the party. How are you feeling about it?”
“Excited,” he said. And then he caught Elinor’s ironic gaze. “And maybe a little nauseous. Okay, a lot nauseous.”
Elinor just laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Just flash them that winning smile of yours, and they’ll be putty in your hands.”
Edward would have offered a reply, but Elinor glanced at her watch and declared it was time to head back. She was too cold to have any more fun (not that she was fully mentally present for the outing), and she knew he was just biding his time with her until Lucy returned from lunch with Dear Papa. Gregory Steele did not like to be kept waiting, after all.
Notes:
I know I'm putting Marianne and Elinor through the emotional wringer, but I swear, I always deliver happily-ever-afters for my characters. So just hang in there with me! <3
Chapter 6: Definitely no
Summary:
"Between you and Uncle, you managed to turn her intimate little gathering into a first-class funeral.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Mr. Gregory Steele requests the pleasure of your company on the evening of February the fourteenth at eight o’clock in the evening. Black tie required.
“Awfully presumptuous of the man to assume no one would have Valentine’s Day plans,” Susan said as she gazed down at the gilt-edged invitation in her hand before passing it back to her husband.
Nick stared up at the massive building in front of them and watched as elegantly dressed groups of people stepped inside. “Pretty sure he expected everyone would drop any plans to be here. Clearly, he was right. This is…a lot of people.”
“I’m not so sure about this,” Susan said, already catching some interested gazes from a few high-class looking people who walked past them.
“Courage, dear,” Nick said as he took his wife’s arm and pulled her along with him. Once inside, however, they were a bit alarmed and confused by the members of staff rushing around greeting people.
“The ladies’ cloak room is the second on your left,” a man in a crisp tuxedo said.
“The—what—?” Susan stammered, unsure that she had heard him correctly. And then she was intensely embarrassed when a woman behind her cleared her throat—visibly annoyed that Susan was standing where she was. She was holding up the line that she didn’t even know had formed behind them.
She quickly thanked the man and waltzed herself into a massive room with coats on every wall. There was even a person there handing out tickets to ensure that no one’s coat was misplaced. She felt a little ashamed handing over her best coat, which looked shabby among the collection of high-end leather, wool, and even fur garments. The ticket was probably unnecessary since all she’d have to say would be, “Give me the cheapest coat in here,” and she’d get hers back.
Nick, meanwhile, was left alone among a throng of staff members who were welcoming people inside. He turned to the tallest man among the group, who was eyeing him with a hint of curiosity in his gray eyes. “We were invited,” Nick said with what he hoped was conviction. He knew that he and his wife certainly stood out among the others, who were wearing tailored suits and designer gowns. To ensure there was no mistaking it, he even pulled the slightly creased invitation from his back pocket.
“Yes, Mr. Gardiner,” the man said, giving him a warm smile. “I’m Colonel Brandon, and we’re glad you could make it.”
Just then, Susan walked up and whispered in her husband’s ear: “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a run in my stocking.”
“We’re ruined ,” Nick said, in a somber tone. And then he cleared his throat and saw that the man beside him had heard. Thankfully, he was already aware that this particular person was an ally to them—at least, according to what Edward had told them. “Not a word of this to anyone.”
He seemed to be a man of good humor, and the colonel’s eyes twinkled as he said, “Of course not, Sir. The elevator is to the rear and right.”
Susan thanked him, and they walked away quickly—only to come to a complete halt when they were faced with the full grandeur of the main hall.
The chandeliers were brilliantly lit and sparkled across freshly polished marble floors. Tasteful decorations adorned every pillar, and the catering was laid out in a long line of tables: heart-shaped macarons, chocolate covered strawberries, overflowing champagne glasses, and the most expensive caviar as far as the eye could see. A live orchestra played in the large alcove along one wall, filling the enormous grand hall with elegant music. All the while, the who’s-who of Upper Crust society were mingling around in their nicest clothes.
The Gardiners had never felt more out of place in their entire lives.
Nick gripped his wife’s arm a little more tightly and led them towards one of the staircases that curved around the outer wall.
They managed to squeeze through the crowd and found themselves directly behind an attractive young couple who were deep in conversation. Clearly, they weren’t afraid of being overheard as they spoke openly. And since no one was moving at that precise moment, Susan and Nick were privy to every word they spoke.
The young woman, wearing a form-fitting gown of the highest fashion, pointed up with one perfectly manicured hand. “Is that the man?” She was gesturing to where Edward and Lucy were standing, greeting guests as they came to the top of both staircases.
“I believe so,” the man beside her said. He was one of those sorts of people who had devilish good looks. But there was something cold about him that gave Susan a distinctly foul impression.
“He’s handsome, at least,” she said. “But Henry, who is he?”
Just then, they were all able to ascend a few stairs as the group near the top thinned out. It was nice to be on the move again, but Susan couldn’t help but be completely absorbed in this particular conversation.
Especially when another pretty young thing squeezed through the crowd and walked past the couple. “Elaine! It’s so good to see you,” she said, giving the woman an affectionate smile and a half-hug.
“Oh, hello, dear. You look lovely ,” Elaine gushed. But she waited until the other woman walked away before she said, with a sneer: “Where did Dorothy get that horrible dress?”
“Uncle Gregory is worried, isn’t he?” Henry asked, ignoring his wife’s cutting remark. He, too, exchanged brief greetings with several people that walked past them. Clearly, these two were well-connected and important.
“I’d be worried, too, if I had nieces like Elinor and Marianne.”
“And now he takes a complete stranger into the family? I don’t approve of it at all.”
“I’d understand if Elinor did it, but for Lucy to take a common climber whom nobody knows…well, it’s obvious he’s just after Lucy’s money.”
Susan wanted to grab the fashionable young woman by her perfectly curled hair and give her an earful. How dare she talk about their Edward that way? And though she’d never met Elinor or Marianne, she felt a certain protectiveness over them—because Edward clearly cared about them, too. But she and Nick were suddenly trapped behind a group of men who were laughing uproariously and swinging their beverages around a bit too freely.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Susan said, admitting defeat when they were basically trapped only halfway up the staircase.
Nick glanced back down the staircase and saw that the crowd behind them had cleared. “Come on. Let’s try the elevator.”
It took them a few minutes to figure out which double doors led to the elevator, but as soon as they did, they found themselves staring at the array of buttons with a bewildered feeling.
“Where to?” Nick asked.
Susan knew what he was asking. One floor above them was their dear friend Edward, arm-in-arm with his future wife. But it meant sending themselves back into the fray, surrounded by fashionable people with apparently very low opinions about their dearest friend. It meant enduring searching glances by well dressed yuppies who could sniff out department store purchases in an instant.
Instead, Susan shut her eyes and slammed her hand blindly against the panel. She would let fate decide where they should go.
Upstairs, in the empty playroom, sat a morose Elinor. She picked up a small mechanical carousel and turned the key to bring it to life. The tinny music was a nice relief to the silence. She was just settling into the faded couch, intent on not moving from that precise spot, no matter how many panicked texts she received from Lucy—when the doorknob rattled. Just then, a middle-aged woman poked her head inside with a thoroughly curious expression.
But she wasn’t in the mood for company. “The party’s downstairs,” Elinor said in a dry, unwelcoming voice.
The woman’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry to intrude,” she replied, perfectly matching Elinor’s unfriendly tone.
Something about the woman’s kindly face forced Elinor to sit up with a start. A few pieces of information slipped into place, even in her distracted state of mind. “Wait—you’re Edward’s friends, aren’t you?” she called out, stopping the woman before she closed the door.
The woman stared back at her for a moment before she smiled. “You must be Elinor.”
She let out a relieved laugh and rushed forward to welcome Susan and Nick inside. She wasn’t sure how the couple had made it all the way up to the 4th floor, but if anyone deserved to see the playroom, Elinor’s most cherished place in the entire world, it was the Gardiners.
“I’m so glad to meet you,” she confessed as she shook each one of their hands.
She wasn’t disappointed by the Gardiners’ reaction to the room, either.
“Wow,” Nick said as he gazed around with an awed expression. “Who lives here?”
“It’s so quaint,” Susan added.
“I live here,” Elinor said. “I should clarify—I live here .” She gestured to the room around them.
“Oh, I see,” Nick said, smirking at her with a decided twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “But you wouldn’t eat your vegetables at dinner, and so they won’t let you go to the party?”
“No, I’m the crazy niece. The one they don’t speak about,” Elinor said in a tone she hoped was convincingly humorous—when she knew for a fact that it was basically true.
“So was I,” replied Susan, to Elinor’s surprise.
“And you see what happened to her,” Nick said.
Elinor was genuinely curious. “What?”
“She had to marry me,” he said with a decided grin.
“A professor without a scrap of money,” Susan added, but the smile she gave her husband was incredibly fond.
“Sounds lovely,” Elinor said, and she meant it. And then she gestured to the ample seating around them. “Will you join me?”
Nick and Susan didn’t feel the least bit like they were intruding. In fact, they seemed relieved by the invitation and gladly accepted.
Nick grabbed a small wooden chair and sat by the fire with a sigh. “It’s good to be home again.”
Elinor smiled at him. She liked the two of them immensely. It was the same sort of instant camaraderie she’d felt with Edward—and she supposed that made sense, since they were his closest friends. “It’s a shame. It really is,” she said, quite without meaning to. And when Susan asked what she meant, Elinor felt as though she had no choice but to confess the truth. “I wanted to give the engagement party, actually. I had it all planned. It was going to be…” she paused. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. It might have been fun.”
Susan was eyeing her with a great deal of interest. “Your cousin Lucy. Is she anything like you?”
“No, don’t worry. She’s nothing like me,” she rushed to assure them.
“Oh,” Nick and Susan said at the same time, but Elinor was too distracted to note the disappointment in their tone.
“Wait, you haven’t met her yet?” When the Gardiners said they hadn’t, Elinor was insistent. “You have to meet her!”
They just shook their heads with audible protests, all while she continued.
“But I know Edward will want to see you. He wanted to show her off to you, and it would spoil the party if he didn’t—”
“Definitely no ,” Susan insisted.
Elinor wondered if something had happened, because Susan was looking a little flushed, and Nick had a hard, angry look on his face. She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with their attire, or perhaps the fact that they clearly didn’t belong among wealthy elitists (for which Elinor only loved them more). The idea that these two had been treated with anything less than respect made her immediately furious.
“Well, you should stay up here,” she declared. Her phone buzzed, but she completely ignored it and decided to give the Gardiners a proper tour of the playroom.
Edward happened to glance at Lucy’s phone and saw the recipient of the text she had just sent. His curiosity was instantly piqued, especially since he’d been looking around in search of her all evening. “Where’s Elinor? Isn’t she coming down?”
“She’ll be down soon. She just hates big parties,” Lucy explained, pocketing her phone in the elegant jeweled purse that she clutched in one hand. The knuckles of that hand were turning a bit white, however—and Edward felt like she wasn’t exactly telling him the full story.
“But she can’t hate this party, surely,” he prodded.
Just then, he and Lucy were approached by two unfamiliar faces (though, to Edward, everyone was a stranger).
“Oh, hello, Elaine! Henry, it’s good to see you,” Lucy said, and while her smile was as brilliant as ever, Edward could tell it was a bit strained.
Henry Crawford was tall and muscular whereas his wife was short with a curvy figure—which she wasn’t afraid to show off with a rather revealing dress. They were complete opposites in almost every aspect of their appearances but no less striking. Perhaps that was what made them so effective together.
“Lucy, darling, you look ravishing!” Elaine said, rushing over and giving Lucy an air kiss on each cheek. She turned and shook Edward’s hand with a wide smile full of perfectly straight, white teeth. “I’m cousin Elaine, and I’m so happy about it. Oh, he is attractive, isn’t he?” This last statement was directed back to Lucy, who beamed happily at the compliment. Elaine introduced her husband, Henry, and she made a joke about having only married into the family whereas Henry was blood.
“Not a bad family to marry into, Ferrars,” Henry said, with a tight smile and a firm handshake. “I congratulate you.”
“We’ve heard such wonderful things about you,” Elaine said, gracing Edward with that same brilliant smile.
Edward was feeling a little over-confident after his second glass of champagne. He was probably a bit delirious, too, because he retorted, “Oh, have you? From whom?”
Elaine’s perfect smile faltered slightly before she said, “Well, everybody!” With that, she turned her attention back to Lucy. “My dear, it’s such a shame about Elinor. Uncle was just telling us about how she’s having a difficult night.”
“She has such bad luck with those headaches of hers, doesn’t she?” Henry said, though there was just the slightest twitch at the side of his mouth as he said it.
Edward caught sight of Marianne in the next room—clearly at the same time as Lucy, because she put her hand on his arm and gave the Crawfords a strained smile. “It was lovely speaking to you both, but I’ve just seen my other cousin, and I was looking for her. Have a great time!” With that, she all but dragged Edward away before he could even offer a polite word.
Lucy pulled Edward down so she could talk into his ear. “You’ve got to talk to Marianne, and you’ve got to get her to bring Elinor down this instant. Do you understand me?”
Edward blinked at her. “What about her headache? Maybe she needs to rest.”
Lucy gave him a look as though he had two heads. “People are starting to talk .”
But her instructions were unnecessary when they again caught sight of Marianne, who had moved to stand near the balcony overlooking the bottom floor of the hall. Her eyes were trained somewhere near the orchestra—only Edward was fairly certain she had locked eyes with Colonel Brandon, who had just paused at that moment to look in her direction. Even separated by an entire floor full of wealthy socialites, they exchanged a brief smile.
Marianne turned in time to catch the couple’s approach. The smile she gave them lacked all warmth.
“Marianne, have you spoken to Elinor?” Lucy hissed as they walked closer.
But rather than answer Lucy’s question, Marianne just fixed her gaze on Edward and asked, in a dry tone, “How did you like meeting cousin Henry and Elaine? It’s a great privilege to meet them, you know.”
“What did Elinor say?” Lucy tried again.
Still, Marianne kept her eyes on Edward, who was frowning. “Aw, cheer up, Ed. If you find Henry and Elaine dull, just wait until you meet some of the others.”
Lucy reached out and took hold of her cousin’s arm, forcing her attention. “Marianne, what did Elinor say ? She’s coming down, isn’t she?”
“Don’t make me laugh,” she retorted.
“What is all this about?” Edward asked, growing more alarmed by the minute.
“It’s nothing,” Lucy assured him in an airy tone, but he could see panic behind her pretty blue eyes.
“That’s right. It’s nothing—just one of Elinor’s whims,” Marianne said acidly. “The silly girl wanted to give her kind of party. Between you and Uncle, you managed to turn her intimate little gathering into a first-class funeral.”
Lucy’s cheeks were flushed beneath her pristine makeup. “She should have realized that Father couldn’t have announced my engagement without some sort of fuss.”
“True, yes. But unlike me, Elinor always hopes.” Marianne’s voice was carrying quite well from their current vantage point.
“Marianne, that’s enough. You’ve had enough,” Lucy said, gazing around and hoping no one else was taking notice of her cousin’s antics.
Marianne’s face darkened in an angry flush. “I’ve had exactly one drink this evening. Not that it’s any of your business.” With that, she walked over and grabbed an entire tray from a nearby table, complete with glasses and an ice bucket with a full champagne bottle. She gave the pair of them a bow of her head before disappearing towards the stairs.
Edward chuckled—he couldn’t resist, given how bold Marianne was being. But it was a mistake. He glanced back at Lucy, who looked furious. She was fuming, in fact. It was the first time he’d ever seen her so angry. “It’ll be alright,” he tried, but she just sent him an icy glare that silenced him immediately.
At that moment, they were pulled into another conversation with some new and important people, and they were trapped. Well, at least Lucy seemed to be having a good time. Edward, on the other hand, kept looking for his friends.
Notes:
Okay, I had a DELIGHT writing Marianne at the end of this chapter. I hope her little burst of spitfire lasts a while longer because I'm having fun!
It's also a great joy to have Elinor finally meet the Gardiners, who are absolutely the best people.More soon!
Chapter 7: Under the circumstances
Summary:
He had other things on his mind, namely the smudge of lipstick on his handkerchief.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Marianne ignored almost everyone who tried to speak to her on her way downstairs. She was on a mission. Without a word, she marched over and grabbed the colonel’s sleeve, pulling him along with her into the elevator.
“What—is happening?” he asked, feeling more than a little bewildered. She was standing quite close to him, and in her lovely red dress, she was a sight to behold. Especially now, with her cheeks a bit flushed from rushing around.
“We’ve got a delivery to make.” She handed him the tray before pressing the button to the 4th floor.
“You seem different tonight,” he said.
She raised one eyebrow at him. “It isn’t liquid courage, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He was surprised by this information. Usually by this time of any enormous party (and Gregory Steele was renowned for them), Marianne would be completely sloshed. He also surprised himself by saying, “Well, whatever it is, I like it.”
“Is that so?” she said. She was standing beside him, and she leaned a little more heavily against his arm.
He nodded his head, unsure that he could properly piece his words together. He was a man of few words, but he was rarely speechless. The way she was looking up at him, with her face all made up, her hair curled and styled just so—he felt like he couldn’t get a full breath. She was lively and bold tonight, especially in the bright red gown. She stood out like a beacon among a sea of black tuxedos and tasteful dresses.
Marianne just continued to stare up at him, and he thought her eyes might have even darted down to his lips once or twice.
If his hands weren’t fully occupied with holding the tray, he might have…
The elevator beeped, and the doors opened. Marianne didn’t wait for him as she darted into the hallway. The door was ajar, and she kicked it open, shouting, “Special delivery!”
Three faces glanced up in delighted surprise at the intrusion. The colonel was pleased to see that the Gardiners had found their way to the playroom. They looked just as at home as if they lived there themselves.
“I thought you could use a little cheering up,” Marianne declared to the gathered group, gesturing to the tray in the colonel’s arms, but her eyes were on her sister.
The others clapped while the colonel uncorked the champagne and poured glasses for each of them. Brandon turned to leave, but she stopped him by handing him her own glass. “Stay for a minute,” she said softly to him.
He just nodded in reply, feeling as though he didn’t quite deserve the pleasure of enjoying such lovely company, even for a few moments—not while he was still working. Still, he said nothing and just stared around at the kind faces around him, basking in their warm glow.
“Marianne, these are the Gardiners,” Elinor said, by way of introduction. “I think you’ve already met the colonel. Nick and Susan are friends of Edward’s.”
“He used to live with us for a while when he was in between jobs,” Susan explained.
Nick laughed. “Yes, and we’ve come to warn his future bride about him. He never puts the cap back on his toothpaste.”
The gathered group chuckled, but Marianne’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she poured herself a glass. “Then, we’ll drink a toast to Edward. He needs it.”
Elinor’s grin faded. “Needs it? Why?”
The colonel (and everyone else) saw the anxiety on Elinor’s face. And if this was a tactic to get her to come downstairs for the party, it might actually work. Though, Brandon wasn’t sure Marianne was play-acting. The last time he saw Edward, he’d looked positively miserable talking to Philip Elton—a truly dull stockbroker from Wall Street.
Marianne shook her head with a serious expression. “No, I’m wrong. He doesn’t need it. Edward is doing alright.”
But Elinor caught the slight note of sarcasm in her sister’s voice, and the fact that her sister was almost completely sober was the most alarming part of it. “What do you mean he’s doing alright?”
“I mean he’s doing alright ,” Marianne insisted. “Lucy has Edward’s hair slicked back, and Uncle is seeing that he meets all the important people.”
“Oh, are there important people downstairs?” Nick interjected with a sardonic tone.
“Terribly important,” Elinor said with a sad smile. “That’s why I wanted to give a party up here.”
Nick raised his glass to her as if in a toast. “To our hostess. Miss Elinor Dashwood, on Valentine’s day, entertained a small group of very unimportant people.”
Elinor gave a dry chuckle and took a sip from her glass. Everyone joined in, but the colonel was feeling a bit conscience-stricken for enjoying himself so much while still on duty. He thanked everyone and quietly excused himself.
Except, Marianne didn’t let him get very far. “You forgot something,” she said, rushing to catch up with him before he stepped onto the waiting elevator.
He turned and was immediately enveloped by her perfume and the way the dress she wore showed off every lovely curve of her full figure. “Yes?” he said, a little hoarsely.
She didn’t stop until she was directly beside him. Her hands were behind her back, but he wasn’t looking at her hands. He was entranced by the look on her face—he saw both mischief and uncertainty there. She hesitated a moment before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He turned his face towards her with surprise and perhaps a little bit of alarm. They were so close together.
Just as suddenly, she produced the silver tray and pressed it flat against his chest. “This, too,” she said softly.
With that, she spun around and left him standing there, all while the elevator beeped angrily at being held open for too long. Once inside, he caught his own reflection in the mirrored surface and realized she’d left a distinct, kiss-shaped mark on his cheek. He quickly wiped her lipstick off with his handkerchief—and just in time, too. The doors opened onto the main floor, where none other than Gregory Steele was waiting with a particularly distinguished guest on his arm.
“Ah, Colonel! I was just looking for you,” the Steele patriarch said with a wide grin (which looked out of place on his usually somber face). “The duchess wished to ask you about your time in the military. Her grandson is interested in joining the Air Force.”
“I regret I only have knowledge about the Army, Duchess Rushworth,” he said with a polite bow towards the older woman.
“Oh, the army ?” the duchess said under her breath. She was looking decidedly displeased (which was difficult to discern from her usual demeanor). Clearly that wasn’t the answer she had been looking for.
Mr. Steele’s face grew ruddy for a moment before he regained his practiced smile. “That will be all, Colonel. Thank you so much for your service.”
Brandon gave them both a curt little bow before exiting the elevator and making a bee-line for the servant’s entrance behind the catering tables.
“Brandon, we need—” Mr. Palmer began.
“I’m taking my break,” he said over his shoulder, and he didn’t stick around to see what sort of chaos he was leaving behind. Nor did he particularly care at that precise moment. He had other things on his mind, namely the smudge of lipstick on his handkerchief.
Edward caught a brief glimpse of the colonel’s retreating figure from his high vantage point. He felt a sudden urge to turn tail and run from the room—not stopping until he reached the kitchen exit and escaped out to the street. It was a strange impulse, and he swallowed it down. Because he was doing alright. He was. He really was. At least, that was what he told himself as he endured the exact same conversation for the 80th time that evening. Lucy had been pulled away from him and was reconnecting with some sorority sisters—which was a conversation he was very much not invited to join. Instead, he was stuck talking to an ancient-looking man who kept losing his train of thought halfway through his sentences.
A few minutes later, Lucy rescued him and pulled him away with the excuse that they needed a private moment to “chat.” This time, she led him into an empty room.
Edward felt like he could take a full breath for the first time all evening, especially when he closed the door to the unending noise of the main hall behind them. “Believe it or not, I’ve just been learning about the yearly costs of keeping a yacht,” he told her with a mild laugh.
Lucy seemed to have dropped her beautiful hostess façade for the moment, and she turned around to face him with tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed at her sudden change in demeanor once more.
“Everyone is starting to talk about Elinor not being here, and now Marianne’s gone, too,” she said, quickly wiping at her eyes to keep from smudging her makeup with any of her tears. “Elinor has to come down. She just has to.”
“She has to? I don’t see why—”
“You have to go up there and bring her down.”
He shrugged his shoulders, feeling as though he couldn’t possibly say the right thing at that moment. “I’ll ask her,” was all he could think to say.
“Insist on it,” she said, taking hold of his arm. Her expression turned pleading. “Do this for me, Edward.”
He gave her a bracing smile. “I’ll do as much as a gentleman can under the circumstances.” He hoped his attempt at humor might help calm her down.
Lucy’s expression softened, and she gave him a real smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little—stressed with all of this. Tonight needs to be perfect.”
Edward opened his mouth to say something, but he decided against it. Not when she was in such a foul mood. Instead, he promised he would do his best and walked himself back through the main room. It didn’t take him long to figure out where to go. He knew exactly where to find Elinor.
Only, he wasn’t prepared to be greeted by a smiling, slightly tipsy Elinor, who rushed over to him with an excited grin the moment he poked his head through the door. “Come in!” she cried, taking him by the arm and tugging until he was fully inside the room.
He was momentarily taken off-guard by the happiness emanating from that singular expression, and it took him several stunned seconds to stop smiling at her like a giddy idiot and give her the speech he’d prepared. He turned and gave her a salute, as if he was a cadet reporting to his superior officer. “Miss Dashwood, I have a message for you.”
She returned the salute. “And I have a message for you.”
“I have the honor to inform you that your presence is requested downstairs.”
Elinor laughed and linked arms with him, pulling him over to the corner of the room. “And I have the honor to inform you that your presence is requested right here.” She pointed to one of several wooden folding chairs that were laid out in front of what appeared to be a puppet theater. It was a gorgeous, hand-crafted screen complete with red velvet curtains and a miniature elevated stage.
Marianne shushed them and pointed to the closed curtains, which were shaking slightly. “It’s starting.”
“No, come on, guys,” Edward protested. “Your uncle is really upset.”
“Why, what seems to be the matter?” Elinor said with an airy tone, but there was a decided twinkle in her dark brown eyes.
He sighed, knowing that this was not going well at all. “Everyone’s begun to notice that you’re not there, and it’s embarrassing the family.”
“The family ?” she scoffed.
“Now, just be a good sport and come down,” he insisted, taking her by the shoulders. “It’ll make your uncle and Lucy very happy.”
She smirked. “Think it’d make them any happier if I crawled in on my hands and knees?”
Edward blinked at her, because it was an exact quote of something he’d said the first day he arrived at the Steele mansion. Something he’d said in private to Lucy—and he very much feared that she told her cousins everything. His face turned crimson, but he was spared an opportunity to retort with something witty (which he wasn’t presently capable of producing) when something tugged at his sleeve.
“Hey, Eddie! Can I call you Eddie?” It was a high-pitched voice, a male talking in a silly falsetto.
Edward turned and was confronted with an old-fashioned puppet, complete with a carved wooden face and hand-stitched clothing.
Another puppet (a female with hair made out of yellow yarn) popped up beside the other and said, in a nasal but clearly feminine voice, “Hey, buddy!”
“Wait, that’s not Edward Ferrars,” the male puppet said, turning to the female and adding in a stage whisper, “That’s a very important person.”
“Oh. Hello, important person!” The girl puppet said, waving one of its tiny arms.
“Don’t be fresh!” the male puppet said, smashing the other with a wooden bat. “You treat important persons with respect!”
A pretend fight ensued between the puppets (in true Punch and Judy fashion), and Edward was simply too stunned and engrossed in the humorous exchange to realize what was happening. “Hey, what is this?” he protested, even while he laughed along with the others.
“The voices of experience,” Marianne said.
“Nick and Susan!” Edward cried happily, peering through the curtain and pulling his two friends into an awkward hug around the puppet screen. He should have known, but he blamed his preoccupied state. Because of course it was his best friends in the whole world—two people of many talents, including entertaining their large collection of nieces and nephews.
The couple reappeared above the miniature stage, but Nick only frowned at their friend. “Well, the voice is familiar, but…Susan, do we know anyone who wears designer aftershave?”
Edward ignored this and simply said, “Thank goodness you came.”
But Susan wasn’t about to relinquish their little teasing game. She squinted at him and added, “Yes, you’re right. There’s something vaguely recognizable…”
Edward huffed a sigh and reached up to undo the careful styling Lucy had done to his wavy hair. For added effect, he loosened the bow tie around his neck. “There. Happy?”
“Why, it’s Edward Ferrars!” Nick cried happily, and the Gardiners rushed around the screen to give him a genuine hug.
He forgot all about his original purpose for coming to the playroom, because he was simply too relieved and happy. “Alright, I get it,” he said with a laugh. “You’re saying the marble pillars got to me.”
"That's exactly what we're saying," Marianne appeared at his elbow with a glass of champagne, which he took gladly.
Elinor reached up to place a pair of oversized dress-up sunglasses on his face for added effect. He tried not to think about how this was the first time all night he’d felt right at home.
Notes:
Wow, this party is taking FOREVER. But I promise it will be fruitful! (I mean, we got an almost-kiss from Marianne and Brandon, so...).
Chapter 8: Sweet soul
Summary:
"Because if there’s one thing you hate, it’s a scene. I can promise you one. I can promise you a beauty.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So, how are you holding up?” Elinor asked, sidling up to Edward with a decided smirk.
“Oh, I’m grand,” Edward said, grinning back at her.
His eyes brightened when it seemed as if he’d only just remembered something. Elinor felt a sense of dread, knowing for a fact that Lucy had sent him up here to all but beg her to come down to the party.
But just then, the door opened. Elinor turned and fixed the couple with a deadpan stare. “Oh, it’s you,” was all she said. With that singular pronouncement, the merriment evaporated from the room.
Elaine Crawford’s perfect smile wavered a little when she found herself under the disinterested gazes of five strangers. After giving her husband a panicked look, she cleared her throat and the smile was once again in place. “I’ve never been up here before. It’s so quaint,” she said. Her tone indicated that “quaint” was certainly not her style, but she offered it a begrudging respect (or she was a good actress).
“ We like it,” Nick, Susan, Elinor, and Marianne said simultaneously. As if they had rehearsed it.
Edward was hard pressed not to burst into surprised laughter, especially when Elaine’s bronze skin showed definite signs that she was flushed and uncomfortable among people who clearly didn’t give the couple the deference they were used to.
It was Henry’s turn to dive into the fray. He cleared his throat. “Elinor, are you aware that there’s another party going on in this house?”
She just gazed back at him with an expression devoid of interest. She was fairly certain that her uncle and Lucy had sent the Crawfords on a rescue mission, and she had no interest in any of it. “That low-class dance hall downstairs? Don’t mention it.”
Edward cleared his throat to hide the bubble of laughter that threatened to overtake him. Instead, he turned to his friends with visible pride on his face and offered a quick introduction. “These are my friends, Professor Nicholas Gardiner and his wife, Susan.”
Elaine gave them only the briefest acknowledgement (a muttered, “how are you?”), to which the Gardiners didn’t bother trying to respond since she had turned to stare at Elinor again.
But Henry was clearly distracted by something else. He turned to Edward and said, “You’re really clever, you know.” It was as if he was resuming a conversation that none of the others were privy to. Nor did he clue anyone else in as to what he meant.
Let alone Edward, who was just as confused. “What do you mean?”
“Your boss has just been telling me about that common stock you bought into a few months ago. You might have let the family in on it,” he said with a mild scold.
“There’s still time,” Edward replied with a shrug.
“Not the way this stock is acting. I’ve just been told to buy 60,000 shares next week, but it won’t be nearly as profitable if we’d gotten in when you did. I’m afraid you hit a proverbial jackpot.”
Edward’s ruddy face paled slightly. “Are you serious? Well, that means—I’ve done it.”
Though Elinor had had no intention of talking to her awful cousin and his wife, she hadn’t left Edward’s side. She gripped his arm with a rush of excitement. “Is this it, Ed? Your ticket out? Your big holiday?”
Edward beamed at her. “Just about.”
“That’s so great!” Elinor said, and she insisted on refilling everyone’s glasses (though, she purposefully didn’t offer any to the Crawfords).
The others, who were well informed of Edward’s plan, gave their own cries of approval and excitement. This was a dream come true for their friend.
Henry, who had no idea what any of the merriment signified, simply interjected, “I’d like for you to have lunch with me at the club on Thursday. I think I could help you double your yield.”
“My dad made me quit after my first million,” Nick said dryly.
“You’re probably joking, Professor,” Henry said to him, without the least bit of humor (Nick and Susan exchanged a look of both alarm and amusement). He turned back to Edward. “I can connect you with the right people on Wall Street, and you can make twice as much in two years, if you invest it correctly.”
“I’ll have to think about it. I only need enough—nothing extravagant.”
Elaine and Henry clearly didn’t understand the sentiment, and she just clapped her hands and said, “Well, we should all go downstairs and celebrate.” It was her attempt at getting back to her original purpose for willingly entering such a cozy atmosphere.
“I’m not going downstairs,” Elinor said. She had put her foot down, and she wasn’t about to relinquish her principles. Even if it made her look like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Her feelings were hurt, and that was the end of it.
Elaine gave a lovely and perfect little pout. “But your uncle said—”
“I’m sure he said a lot of things. But I’m still not going.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Henry chided.
“Well, I wouldn’t dream of keeping anyone here who wants to go down to the other party,” Elinor said, mimicking Elaine’s perfect (if a bit too wide) smile in response.
“You’re being childish.” He turned and took his wife’s arm. “Come on. This is a pointless discussion.”
Elinor laughed. “You wouldn’t want to swing on the trapeze like old times and discuss it right now, would you?”
Henry’s whole calm-cool-and-collected exterior cracked slightly, showing alarm and anger at Elinor’s teasing. He ignored her completely and turned to Nick and Susan for perhaps the first time since making their acquaintance. “We will see you later, Professor and Mrs. Gardenia.” He offered a curt little bow before taking his wife’s arm and escorting her to the door.
“I thought our name was Gardiner,” Nick said in a stage whisper, which the Crawfords chose to ignore.
Marianne grabbed a slide whistle and let out a shrill, comical note just as Elaine stepped into the hall. She turned back and glared at the group before Henry shut the door with a prompt snap . They didn’t bother waiting for the dignified couple to move out of earshot before they all burst into laughter. The mood was certainly happier now that the Crawfords were gone—aided, no doubt, by the champagne Elinor kept pouring for them. She had collapsed on the couch, with Edward falling just beside her. She was flushed and tipsy, and Nick, Susan, and Edward were well on their way to joining her. Marianne seemed to be the only one who was determined to keep a clear head. Still, the joy was infectious.
Nick put a hand in one pocket and strode towards the couch with a haughty air (a good imitation of Henry Crawford’s) and pronounced, “Mr. Ferrars, in appreciation of your great success in the field of love and finance, I wish to congratulate you on behalf of the members of the 5th Avenue Anti-Stuffed Shirt and Flying Trapeze Club.” His eyes fell on something nearby, which he leaned down to grab. “And they wish to present you with a token of their esteem.”
Edward smiled down at the stuffed giraffe and took it with the reverence the cherished childhood toy deserved. He stood up and held onto it as though he was accepting an Oscar. He even gave them all a mock bow as he said, “Leopold and I wish to thank you. I’m not one for speeches, but…” he paused, his eyes falling on Elinor with a sparkle of mischief. “It just so happens that we have an award-winning actress in our midst. And as a gesture of our gratitude, we would like to perform an excerpt from ‘The Scottish Play’ for you tonight.”
Elinor tried to protest, but when the others clapped and cheered, she was basically strong-armed into participating (though, when Edward held out his hand and pulled her up beside him, she didn’t need that much convincing).
“I don’t think I remember everything,” she confessed to him in a whisper—and her head was spinning a little, too. She was nearly drunk. But for the first time, she didn’t care.
“Just improvise. The crowd goes wild for that sort of thing.” With that, he stepped back and even went down on one knee in front of her. He swept his arm out in front of him in an overly dramatic gesture. “‘My dearest love! Duncan comes here tonight.’”
Elinor had to fight a case of the giggles as she searched her memory for the next line. And then it all came back to her in a rush (perhaps aided by her relaxed state—or the alcohol). “‘And when goes hence?’”
Edward reached for her hand and held it, while he was still on one knee. “‘Tomorrow, as he purposes.’”
Elinor put her free hand to her brow, as if she was close to fainting. “‘O, never shall sun set that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is a book where men may read strange matters—’”
“What is going on?”
The group spun around as they were accosted by yet another interruption. Only, this time, they’d been angled in such a way that none of them saw the two people enter the room. And this time, it wasn’t the snobbish Crawfords standing there.
“What the hell is going on?” Lucy repeated.
Gregory Steele stood beside her, and the skin around his shirt collar was growing a darker shade of pink by the second.
“The club is adjourned,” Marianne said under her breath.
Edward, completely oblivious to the look of outrage on his fiancee’s face (he was more tipsy than he realized), dropped Elinor’s hand and ran towards Lucy with a wide smile. “I’ve got the best surprise for you, sweetheart,” he began.
But Gregory was not in the mood. “Just a moment,” he said, holding up one hand to stem the flow of Edward’s excited words. He turned to face the others. “I want you to come downstairs. We are getting ready to make the announcement, and I want all of you there to celebrate with us.”
“I can celebrate it just as well in this room,” Elinor said, crossing her arms and glaring at her uncle as she hadn’t dared to do for ages. She had to blame (or thank) her partially inebriated state.
“You’ve caused quite enough trouble for one evening,” he retorted.
But that just rankled her even further. She wasn’t going to back down this time. “Listen, Uncle. I asked to do one thing for Lucy. One thing. And if I’d been able to give the party I had planned to give, as I had asked you both—”
“Elinor, that is enough ,” Mr. Steele said icily.
Nick chose this precise moment to take Susan’s arm and try to make a surreptitious exit—only they had to walk between the two major players in the argument, which created an unwelcome interruption. He apologized profusely and said that he and Susan should get downstairs, just as Mr. Steele had suggested.
On their way to the door, however, Edward stopped them and started making a rather ill-timed introduction. He was eager for them to meet Lucy. He wanted Lucy to meet his best friends. Thankfully, despite her present state of mind, Lucy didn’t disappoint. She gave them one of her best smiles—dimples and all.
“Well, you’re lovely,” Susan said as she shook Lucy’s hand. “Just like Edward described.”
“Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Steele,” Nick added. “You’re not getting very much, but I’m sure you can improve him.” He laughed, to which only his wife and Marianne joined. Lucy was not among them. Nor were Elinor and Gregory, who were currently locked in a silent battle of wills. Nick’s amusement petered out, and he gave his wife a wide-eyed look before they quickly left the room.
Marianne, smiling to herself, was right behind them. “Kindly walk—do not run—to the nearest exit.” She had absolutely no interest in staying in that room to endure the argument that was about to erupt—especially when Elinor was in a rare mood to fight back.
Elinor stared through the open door, longing to follow her sister. But she knew she had to stay. She had to speak her peace before she lost her backbone. Edward sensed the tension in the room, and he felt his lovely, warm, alcoholic buzz wearing off. He was suddenly stone-cold sober in the face of his fiancee and future father-in-law.
Elinor suddenly walked towards the still-open door to the playroom and slammed it. It was an overt gesture to indicate both her state of anger and the fact that things were about to kick off.
“There’s no need to throw a temper tantrum,” Gregory chided.
Elinor turned to face him. Something snapped, and she knew it was all going to spill out. Might as well be now—even with Edward in the room to witness it. Part of her was glad he was there to see everything crumble down, every facade kicked aside in the face of one of her poorly timed “spells.”
There was a fiery look on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes flashed as she faced her uncle. “Listen, tonight meant a great deal to me. I think you and Lucy knew that, and you still managed to undermine me at every decision. I don’t know why, and I don’t really care anymore. I’ll even make an appearance downstairs if you like, but I want to bring the Gardiners back up here. I want to have supper with them. We won’t bother anyone.” Her expression softened to an almost pleading look. “That’s alright with you, isn’t it, Uncle?”
“Your place is downstairs.”
There were tears in her eyes, but she didn’t once lose her resolve. “I’m asking you for something really small. Something just for me. I don’t know why it’s so important—maybe it has something to do with this room and my happy memories here.”
“I have no idea what special virtue this room has,” he retorted.
Edward was startled by this. Surely Gregory Steele had some affection for his late sister. Surely he had a heart in there somewhere. He looked down at Lucy, whose face was blank and expressionless. He felt…well, he didn’t know what he felt. But it wasn’t good.
“No, you don’t have any idea. Do you?” Elinor insisted, and though the tears were starting to fall, she seemed as though the information was almost a relief. She was even smiling as she said, “You couldn’t possibly understand. You or Lucy. I see that now. Well, I’ll tell you why—this room is my home. It’s the only home I’ve got. Maybe it’s because of Mom.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” her uncle insisted, looking uncomfortable for the first time.
It was the tiniest glimmer of hope that perhaps beneath all of his wealth, far beneath the perfectly-tailored Rolex suit, beat a heart that was pumping blood.
Only, Elinor seemed to believe differently. “You think I’ll just come around. Is that it? You think everyone will come around. Maybe you got your claws into Marianne, but you’ve never been able to do the same with me. Not tonight. And I won’t be disturbed, either, because if there’s one thing you hate, it’s a scene. I can promise you one. I can promise you a beauty .”
Edward was just listening in stunned, almost awed silence to Elinor’s tirade. He watched the effect it had on Lucy, who was looking perturbed and confused—but Gregory just turned away from Elinor with a determined expression.
He abruptly tried to change the subject. As if she hadn’t spoken at all. “So, there’s good news, Edward?” he asked.
Edward didn’t know what to do. He just stared back at his future father-in-law with a bewildered expression.
Thankfully, Elinor filled the silence for him. “My mother was a sweet soul. And it was people like you that ate her alive.”
Well, Gregory Steele couldn’t ignore such an accusation. “Elinor, if you’re unhappy, why don’t you take a trip for a few weeks? You should take a maid and a companion and go somewhere for a while, and when you come back, we can revisit this—topic. You cause nothing but trouble these days.”
“That’s just what I’ll do. But no maid and no companion—just Elinor, the kid herself.”
“As you wish,” he interjected in a dismissive manner.
“I’ve been dying to get out for years. And lately, I’ve just…” Her resolve seemed to finally fizzle at that moment. She looked to Lucy, who—at one time—had been an ally for her in a house where she felt thoroughly unwelcome and out of place. But while Lucy had the decency to have tears in her lovely blue eyes, she said nothing. She never once came to Elinor’s defense. She felt one of her last hopes shattering at that instant.
“Will you leave this room now, please?” Mr. Steele asked his niece.
Elinor just looked at Edward and held his gaze. Something wordless passed between them. But she saw the way Lucy was gripping his arm, drawing his attention back to her. He still had stars in his eyes when he looked at Lucy. He still didn’t see what Elinor had just learned about her own cousin. She sighed, wondering what other hard lessons were in store for her that evening. She was assured of many more.
She pushed this aside and met her uncle’s hard stare. “I don’t think you’ll be able to stand this room for long. I’ll come back when you’ve left.”
With that, she was gone.
Edward had a sinking feeling in his gut that not even Lucy’s perfect smile could assuage. Something was trying to claw its way out of his chest, but he was either too socially exhausted (or inebriated) to deal with it. He felt a sudden need for affirmation. Something to quell the doubts he wasn’t ready to face yet. He met Lucy’s gaze and held it. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could still see the same woman he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with over a month ago.
“Well, Edward,” Gregory said with a relieved smile, now that they were finally alone. “Your boss was telling me about the good luck you had with those stocks.”
“It’s wonderful,” Lucy said, grinning up at him. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“When you return from your honeymoon, there will be a desk waiting for you at the firm.”
Edward realized now was his moment to break the good news to them. He needed to know—he had to know what Lucy thought. “Well, I appreciate that, Sir, but this success makes possible a certain dream of mine.”
But, then, it didn’t go at all how Edward had hoped.
Notes:
Y'all, I am about to THROW HANDS at Edward. And Lucy and Gregory. And the Crawfords. BUT MOSTLY EDWARD. HOW DOES HE STILL NOT SEE?? I blame the alcohol and Lucy's prettiness that has him blinded to everything.
But at least we finally see Elinor's realization that Lucy doesn't actually have her back, and that maybe she has to rethink their entire relationship. Because Lucy is just like her uncle, and Elinor needs to get out soon.
I make a solemn promise that Edward is going to come to his senses regarding Lucy and Elinor soon. I PROMISE.I hope you're not too frustrated and can stick it out for the next update! Hoping to get it done soon because I am suffering with these characters! XD
P.s. Quotes from "The Scottish Play" (aka "Macbeth") from Act 1, Scene 5
Chapter 9: You owe me
Summary:
"You’ve got more talent in your pinky finger than most people can aspire to. Especially your cousin Lucy."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I don’t want too much money.”
“Too much money ?” Gregory Steele said, as though the very words simply didn’t make sense.
Edward almost lost his resolve, but he took a few notes from Elinor, who had stood up to her uncle only moments prior. He was going to get it all out in the open while he had the chance. So, he swallowed hard and continued. “It was always my plan to make some money early in the game and then quit for as long as it lasts. I want to find out who I am and what I’m working for. But it needs to be now, while I’m young and feel good most of the time. And if it turns out to be a bad idea, and even if I fall flat on my face, I still need to try it.” He waited and watched the effect of his words. He turned to Lucy, hoping against hope—perhaps desperately—to see some understanding on her face. “You know what I mean. Don’t you?” he asked her.
But she looked just as perturbed as her father. “I don’t think I do, Edward.”
Edward simply gazed at her for a silent moment while he grappled with his own feelings. Lucy stood before him, looking breathtaking in her sparkling gown, her elegantly styled blonde hair, and she was the absolute picture of the sort of woman he’d always dreamed about. The exact woman who had waltzed into his life all those weeks ago and thoroughly enchanted him. But there was a look on her face of complete astonishment. She had absolutely no idea what he was saying.
Her expression hardened, and she put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from speaking again. Instead, she turned to her father (who was looking red around the collar again) and said quickly, “Father, let me talk to Edward alone for a few minutes.”
But Mr. Steele wasn’t listening. He was too outraged. “In all my experience—”
“Please, Father,” she insisted.
He relented, but only slightly. He fixed his icy gaze on Edward once more. “Ferrars, it strikes me that you chose a strange time to tell us this.”
It was meant to be a surprise. A gift—the best one he could ever offer a woman whose wealth gave her the luxury of having everything. He opened his mouth to say something along those lines, but Lucy stepped in once again. She went so far as to put herself between the two men and insist that they would be downstairs shortly. Gregory Steele left, but not before giving Edward a stern once over.
In that moment, Edward had never felt smaller in his life. The instant the door closed behind the Steele patriarch, he turned to Lucy with a vain hope of explaining himself. “He didn’t understand what I was saying at all,” he began.
But she was just as angry as her father had been—maybe even more so. “Why on earth did you tell him that? You had to know all that talk would antagonize him.”
“You think talk was all it was?” He sank down into a chair, feeling as though he'd lost all his energy.
“I think it was less than that.”
“Lucy, I meant every word.”
She approached and put her hands on his shoulders. Her face had softened, and he thought he saw a glimmer of hope in the way she stared down at him. “You can’t possibly convince me that a man of your energy and talent could retire at 30. You just don’t know how exciting business can be, Edward.”
He gazed up at her, but despite the dimples around her smile, he felt as though something had changed.
She didn’t wait for a reply before continuing. “If you’re tired, you can take a break. And then in a year or two, we can revisit this idea.” She leaned closer and embraced him, pressing her cheek against his own. “You can do that for me. Can’t you?”
He sighed, breathing in her perfume and allowing himself to imagine her as he knew her a month ago—when they had been impulsive and so easy with their feelings. When things had been simpler. But he supposed even whirlwind romances had their challenges. Real life had to step in at some point and ruin the fun.
“You think that in a year, I’d be a good sport and come around. Is that it?” he asked her.
Lucy’s smile faded, and he knew his answer, even though she didn’t confirm it outright. “I just don’t want you to throw all of this away," she said, leaning closer.
He saw a brief glimpse of the woman he’d met all those weeks ago in Lake Placid. And for a moment, things were simple again. It was just the two of them, standing in his favorite room in the Steele mansion, backlit by the fire. For a moment, there wasn’t even the pressing need to get downstairs for the big announcement.
“I’ll give it a try,” he said, kissing her gently.
Lucy hugged him close, and he felt the sigh of relief that went through her body.
“But just for two weeks.”
“Edward—”
“Two weeks,” he insisted, standing back and gazing down at her. “And if I don’t like it, we’ll give my idea a try.”
Lucy seemed hesitant, but she gave him a smile anyway. It was almost a good impression of his favorite one—the smile that had sealed his fate and sent him head over heels in love with the woman.
“It’s time to go downstairs,” she said. When he leaned in for another kiss, she just swatted his chest playfully and told him to save it for the announcement.
—
“I’m sure you’ll be very happy!”
Elinor flushed and shook the older woman’s hand. “No, you’re thinking of my cousin, Lucy. She’s the one who’s getting married,” she said. But the elderly woman was hard of hearing and didn’t seem to understand what Elinor was saying. “My cousin, Lucy!” she insisted, but the older woman just gave her an even firmer handshake and predicted that the two of them would have at least 3 strapping children.
Elinor was glad of the distraction when Marianne appeared at her elbow. “Need you,” was all she said as she all but dragged her sister into the other room.
“What—is happening?” Elinor said, feeling a little dizzy. She was still quite tipsy, and if she took another glass of champagne, she would most definitely travel into the dangerous “nearly drunk” category. After being forcibly dragged downstairs by Marianne (who insisted that they just grit their teeth and get it over with, to avoid any further drama), Elinor hadn’t been given an opportunity to drown herself in another glass of bubbly. Still, she was sweaty and anxious among the crush of well-dressed, stuffy people. And she wasn’t happy at all to be there, anyway.
The two of them were interrupted quite a few times by well-wishers and people saying the sorts of statements that made single women everywhere roll their eyes (“You two will be next! Just wait and see!”). Marianne maintained her course and wasn’t sidetracked by any of these little remarks. Soon enough, they ended up on the main floor of the grand hall, where the dancing was going in full swing.
“You said Edward wasn’t doing well,” Elinor hissed in her sister’s ear. “He looks fine! You lied to me to get me down here.”
“Look closely,” Marianne said as they came to a stop at the edge of the designated dance floor.
Sure enough, Elinor could see the sweat at his temples. He spun Lucy in a wide circle away from himself (a bit clumsily), and when he raised his arm, she could see that he had sweat beneath his armpits. There was something a bit forced about his smile, too. Something she liked even less than the fake grin on Lucy’s face. God, it was all such a show, and she hated every second of it.
The song ended, and Edward caught sight of the Dashwood sisters. He seemed perfectly relieved to pass Lucy off into the arms of some important acquaintance as he made a bee-line for them.
“You came down,” he said, practically grinning at Elinor.
“Yes, but I’m not dancing,” she said, a little tersely.
“Have either of you seen Nick or Susan?”
When the two women shook their heads, there was a decided air of disappointment shared between the three of them at the absence of two of the nicest and genuinely fun people they’d spent time with all evening.
“Well, how about a dance, Marianne?” he offered, holding out his hand to her.
“Oh, I’ve already got a dance partner,” she said quickly, taking two steps to the side and grabbing Colonel Brandon’s arm (he had been only a short distance away, by some strange coincidence).
“That just leaves the two of us, then,” Edward said, turning back to Elinor with a teasing smile.
“Oh, God,” she said, looking truly panic-stricken. “Please don’t make me. Not with all these people that I hate.”
Edward cleared his throat, realizing she was talking loud enough to be overheard. His eyes caught something nearby, and he quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. She protested, until she realized that he was taking her to one of the closed off rooms nearby—the less formal sitting room that practically no one used. He left the door slightly ajar. He had turned to ask her to dance again, but she was facing away from him, staring at a portrait on the opposite wall.
Elinor caught his keen gaze and shrugged her shoulders. Now that they were alone, she felt suddenly self-conscious—especially after her rather childish outburst at her uncle earlier. “I’m not sure I’ll be much company right now. I won’t know how to entertain you. I’ve done all my stuff.”
He smirked, but it was without any real humor. Clearly, he was in a somber mood as well. “I don’t need entertaining.” He sighed and held out his hand. “Would you care for a dance, Miss Dashwood?”
“Of course, Mr. Ferrars.” She managed a genuine smile and stepped into his arms.
He waited for half a beat before leading them into a steady waltz. She’d been forced to take ballroom dancing lessons as a teenager, and clearly she hadn’t lost all of her skills. Edward was a surprisingly good dancer. And it almost felt as though they had done this before.
Still, Edward seemed preoccupied. Though his face was close to hers, he was frowning and deep in thought. “There’s a conspiracy against you and me.”
She gave him a considering look. She could only guess what he meant, but she wanted to hear him say it anyway. “How so?”
“They won’t let you have any fun, and they won’t give me any time to think.”
Elinor sighed. That confirmed her suspicions. “I suppose like the great idiot you are that you told Uncle about all your little hopes and dreams.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, still frowning.
“Pretty disappointing, isn’t it?” she said with a wry chuckle.
“It wasn’t great,” he confessed. But he was staring at her again as he said, “Hey, what about your own evening?”
“Not so hot either.”
Edward’s movements slowed down until he wasn’t dancing anymore. His frown was back, and he had a faraway look on his face. “But I’ve just been wondering…well, maybe they’re right.”
“Don’t believe it,” she said, gripping his hand a little tighter.
“Maybe retiring young was a stupid idea after all.”
Elinor didn’t like that he was backtracking on his own dreams. “It’s still your ride, isn’t it? You know where you want to go.”
He sighed. “I thought I did.”
“So did I,” she agreed, as he slowly led them back into the dance. She leaned her cheek a little closer to his, and she had to blame the alcohol still lingering in her system when she added, “Pathetic, wasn’t it? All my fuss and fury over anything as unimportant as this party.”
“It was important to you, though,” he said, leaning back and coming to a stop again as he stared down at her.
“Maybe it was. But I’m feeling pretty unimportant at the moment.”
“Elinor,” he began, and then he paused. He’d been on the brink of saying something else, but he stopped and just said, “You’re so sweet.”
Elinor held her breath as Edward pulled her close in a tight hug. She allowed herself to bask in the moment for just a few seconds. And then ten. And then fifteen. At twenty, she finally forced herself to take a step backwards. To move away from him completely, even when he tried to bridge the gap again.
“You should get back,” she said, in an unsteady voice. She put a hand on his chest, as if needing the reassurance that he was actually there and not just a figment of her tipsy imagination. Or maybe she was holding him there, keeping him from moving any closer. Because given her current level of inebriation, she was feeling a keen interest in figuring out if Edward was as good of a kisser as he was a dancer.
He swallowed and dropped his hands from where they had somehow landed on her waist. “Can we talk later?” he said in a whisper.
Elinor felt her face flushing slightly under his direct gaze, and she just nodded her head slowly. “Go on,” she prodded, physically turning him around and pushing him towards the door.
Outside on the dance floor, Marianne was enjoying a spin in the arms of Colonel Brandon. She had caught Edward and Elinor’s surreptitious exit and was watching keenly as Edward returned to the room, looking a little flushed around the collar of his stiff dress shirt.
“You owe me 10 bucks,” she buzzed in the colonel’s ear. She wasn’t entirely certain, but it was almost as if his body had shivered slightly at her close proximity.
He leaned back and met her gaze. “We don’t know that anything happened in there.”
Marianne rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess we’ll call it a stalemate.” She cursed under her breath when she stepped on Brandon’s foot for the fourth time.
“You’re trying to lead,” he said. “Let me.”
She was going to offer a sharp retort, but she was robbed of any sensible reply when she caught something in his gaze. For the moment, she just relaxed into his arms and swayed to the music.
“Have you decided to quit your job?” His question took her so off-guard that she leaned away from him for a moment.
“What makes you say that?” She glanced around, but she realized that among the crush of people, with the live orchestra playing at full volume, they had more privacy than if they’d been alone in a room together (much like Elinor and Edward had, only moments prior).
Maybe it was these special circumstances that gave Brandon the extra courage he needed to speak freely. “You’ve just got this—boldness about you tonight. I thought maybe you’d finally decided to get out of here.”
Marianne’s face crumbled into a look of anguish. “I’ve thought about it—God, so many times. And especially after tonight, when Elinor blew up at Uncle and Lucy. She said things I’ve longed to say to him, but…I’ve always lost my nerve.”
“Why do you let him bully you?”
She felt her whole body deflate slightly, but she leaned a little heavier into the comfort of his arms around her. “He gave us a home when we didn’t have one. He’s never been shy about holding that over Elinor and me. And—and the one time I said I was unhappy, that I wanted to leave the family business, he threatened me.”
“He what ?”
“Not—not physically. I mean, not in a way that I could take him to court over. But he said if I tried to leave, he’d make it so that I would never find a job in this city or any place he had connections.”
Despite his visible fury at learning this fact, he actually managed to say, “Marianne, do you actually like being a realtor?”
She blinked at him. She didn’t think anyone had ever asked her that. Especially not her uncle, who was thrilled to have at least one person in the family he could put to work. Someone whose skills brought the Steele family plenty of prestige and money. “No, I hate it,” she said finally. “I sell properties that end up turning into borderline sweatshops for fast fashion industries, or overpriced living spaces that no one can afford and aren’t built to code. I deal with high-powered CEOs looking to cut corners to save themselves money. People who walk all over their lowest workers and exploit people for the almighty dollar. I fucking hate it.”
“Then, you should leave.”
“It’s not that easy.” She hated to admit it, but she felt the need to get it off of her chest. “It makes me sound selfish, but I’ve…I’ve gotten used to these comforts. The money. Maybe I even enjoyed the attention at one time, too. And where would I go?”
“You’ve got more talent in your pinky finger than most people can aspire to. Especially your cousin Lucy. You can do anything you set your mind to. You don’t need your uncle’s connections or money—even if it’s scary to imagine life without them.” He paused, and his eyes refused to leave hers. “This place will eat you alive if you stay here any longer.”
Marianne was about to argue with his first statement, but she came to a sudden realization. She had to know. “Then, why did you stay for so long?”
“I wanted to quit 15 years ago. But I stayed.”
I stayed for you.
He didn’t say it out loud, but the implication was clear as day. He had wanted to leave, but after their mother died and the two of them had moved into the Steele residence permanently, he had stayed. Over the years, he had become her closest friend and ally in a house that she detested. He managed to keep her grounded, even while she struggled with depression and unhappiness. It touched a part of Marianne’s heart that she didn’t know still existed—the fiercely, hopelessly romantic part of her that Willoughby had exploited for nearly two years. That monster had squashed all of her silly romantic dreams when he had shown his true colors. But here was Brandon to remind her that she was still desirable.
She was sorely tempted to lean forward and kiss him. Clearly, he was just as interested in the possibility, since his gray eyes had darted down to her lips. But she wasn’t too keen on their first kiss happening in front of all of her uncle’s well-to-do friends and acquaintances. Her uncle was already giving her a steely look, given the fact that she was dancing with “the help.”
She was robbed of any further opportunity to explore the possibility of kissing Brandon on the lips to spite her uncle…because she watched, with growing anxiety, as Edward quietly stepped away from the dance floor.
“Is he leaving?” she asked.
Sure enough, Brandon followed her gaze and watched as Edward slipped through the side entrance to the kitchens. The tight, forced smile on Lucy’s face was confirmation enough. Marianne and Brandon exchanged a quick glance (and an unspoken I want a full report later ) as he turned and stepped back into his role as housekeeper. She caught sight of Elinor, who was making a sly escape towards the elevators, and Marianne realized the fun (such as they were able to experience that evening) had truly come to an end.
Notes:
I can't even begin to tell you how many times I had to write this chapter. I scrapped so many different versions and realized this one was the least abhorrent of the options.
Still mad at Edward. Still annoyed with everyone else.
At least we got some lovely fluff between Edward/Elinor and Marianne/Brandon...right? RIGHT??
Oh, well. Stay with me, please, and refrain from throwing those tomatoes until the end of the show <3
Chapter 10: Relieved
Summary:
You wanted someone you could mold and shape into your father, and when he turned out to be too headstrong, you just didn’t want him anymore.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Elinor awoke the next morning with the worst hangover imaginable. She had a vague recollection of the last part of her evening—after dancing with Edward. She had retreated to her room with a borrowed bottle of champagne (which now sat upside down and empty on a nearby armchair—she only hoped Mrs. Jennings wouldn’t notice the stain).
It was tempting to curl up in her bed and not move for the next 2 to 5 business days. Still, she dressed herself slowly and with purpose. She opened her door, only to nearly collide with Lucy.
“Elinor, I’m so glad you’re awake,” Lucy said.
“Barely,” she said, squinting a little. She wondered if her cousin’s voice had always been this grating.
“Listen, you’ve only got a few minutes to get dressed before breakfast with the Pooles.”
Elinor glanced down at her phone and saw that she had snoozed several calendar notifications (from a joint account that Lucy always insisted they follow to the letter, especially when it came to Important Social Obligations). “Does it have to be breakfast? Why not brunch?”
“You’re funny,” Lucy said. “You know Mrs. Poole prides herself on getting up at 5am every day to exercise, and she only ever makes time for us this one time each month.”
“And how is she important again?” Elinor asked.
She didn’t listen to what Lucy said and just walked over to the tray that Mrs. Jennings had obviously dropped off while she was still asleep. It had a bottle of Tylenol, Alka Seltzer tablets, and a pitcher of water. She wondered if this was the sort of thing used to be called the Marianne special. How funny that the tables had turned. She was fairly certain her sister had only indulged in a total of three drinks last night. And she highly suspected the motivation was related to the handsome footman.
Elinor glanced again at her phone, seeing that she had a friend request from Susan Gardiner, which she immediately accepted. Only to be flooded with messages.
She read them quickly and then turned to face Lucy, who was still talking (and unaware that Elinor wasn’t actually listening). “Edward left the party early last night?” she asked.
Lucy sighed. “Yes, and it was just after the announcement. It was incredibly embarrassing, and I’m put out with him.”
“Susan says he is flying out early for the European cruise tonight. And he’s waiting for you to say whether or not you’re going.”
“Well, he’s not actually going. It’s all a tactic to get me to change my mind.”
Elinor was suddenly angry. “I think he means it. He doesn’t play those sorts of games.”
“Everyone plays games in relationships,” Lucy said as she glanced at herself in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. She hastily worked to fix the front of her dress, which was slightly crooked.
Well, it’s not the kind of relationship I want , Elinor wanted to retort. But she held her tongue, because she knew that would only get Lucy in a worse mood than she already was. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “He’s right, you know. About what he wants out of life.”
“He just needs to stick it out for two weeks. Is that too much to ask?” Lucy said as she started tucking a few errant pieces of her blonde hair back into place.
“Lucy, what do you want out of life? Do you want to sit smugly on your piles of money like your father?”
She spun around, and there was real hurt on her face. “You don’t know anything about what I want. And I have no interest in starting this endless, aimless discussion again.”
Just then, there was a tap at the door. This time, it was Gregory Steele. “Elinor, you only have a few minutes to get dressed. I can’t seem to find Marianne anywhere.”
Elinor was about to say, check the servant’s quarters , but she decided that would only open up a whole fresh can of worms. Besides, she had a bone to pick with her uncle, too. Maybe it was a good thing he’d decided to barge in there uninvited. “I think you and Lucy are giving Edward a rotten deal. You’re not thinking about what’s best for him at all.”
Gregory exchanged a brief look with his daughter before he said, “On the contrary. I think the young man’s outlook has become a bit…confused, shall we say?”
“And you’ll straighten it out for him?” she retorted.
“We’ll try,” he said. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders, but I think he just needs a taste of reality.”
“And a taste of reality is behind one of the desks at the family realty firm. You know, I can’t see Edward making it one single day in that place.”
“He will,” Lucy said, stepping forward and putting a placating hand on Elinor’s arm. “I know he will. He’s going to be great, Father. I just need to talk to him.”
But Elinor wasn’t done. Not even close. “Why doesn’t he have a right to live part of his life the way he wants to?”
“I should like to understand what you and Edward are getting at,” Gregory said, standing to his fullest height as he faced his niece. “If you ask me, his whole outlook is un-American.”
Elinor laughed at that. “Are you serious?”
“Entirely.”
“Well, then he is, and he won’t go to heaven when he dies, because apparently, he can’t quite believe that a life devoted to piling up money is all it’s cracked up to be. Strange, isn’t it? When he has us right before his eyes for such a shining example.”
Gregory was momentarily taken aback by her words, and she took the opportunity to press ahead.
“You think Edward will come around and compromise, don’t you? But he won’t. He’s right, and he knows he is.” She turned to face Lucy, who had remained silent this entire time.
It was as though she finally understood what Marianne had been trying to tell her for years. And Elinor only hoped that Edward saw the light before he gave up on his dreams. Because he deserved better than Lucy Steele.
She came to a decision, and it involved finding Edward and telling him just that.
—
Marianne was, indeed, in the servant’s quarters. She had slipped down there first thing that morning, and she wasn’t surprised to discover the colonel was already awake.
But he was surprised when he realized who was at his door. “Oh—it’s you,” he said, looking a little flustered as he rushed to finish buttoning up his shirt. “I thought you were Mr. Palmer with my morning paper.”
Marianne shut the door behind her and tried to ignore the fact that she’d gotten a brief glimpse of his bare chest. “I didn’t think anyone still read the paper.”
“I guess I’m old-fashioned.” He shrugged and quickly tucked his shirt into his pants—which were completely undone.
Good Lord, she had almost seen his boxers. Marianne was looking suddenly quite flushed as she said, “Listen, I’m about to make some really important decisions today. Um…about my job. You know, from our talk last night.”
He pulled his suit jacket on and took a few steps closer to her. “I remember.”
“I’m just really afraid that I’m going to chicken out, so could you just—?”
But Marianne didn’t have a chance to finish, because he had stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
She let out a rather embarrassing groan as she wrapped her arms around his neck. This wasn’t just one of those polite hugs meant to convey sympathy. This was an embrace. Marianne buried her face in his wide chest and breathed in the scent of his aftershave. One of his hands moved up until it was pressed against the back of her neck. Oh, holy shit. She was going to start crying.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
His voice was low and pleasant, and it hummed against her ear in a nice way. She sighed. “I was going to go slowly. You know, find a replacement, give my notice, and work a few more months or so.”
“You know he won’t let you go.”
Marianne stepped back. “I thought—maybe if I did it gradually…”
Brandon shook his head. “He won’t let you, Marianne. He’ll find some way to keep you tied to the place. It has to be cold turkey.”
“You mean, just…leave?”
He nodded. “Pack your bags and go.”
“Where?” she said, feeling as if his arms were keeping her tethered to the floor. She was equal parts terrified and elated at the very idea.
“Anywhere.”
She paused, knowing this next moment was crucial. But she had to be the one to say it. He was far too respectful. And so, she held his gaze and said, “Will you come with me?”
With that, he leaned down and kissed her. Marianne’s body responded in the same way as she had to his embrace. It came alive. Most days, she moved through life in a numb state of simple existence, surviving on alcohol to numb her unhappiness. But now she felt like all of her senses were on fire. And just when they were on the brink of getting too carried away, she pulled back and braced both of her hands against his chest.
“Here’s what we need to do,” she began.
But he was kissing her again—one of those languid, searching types of kisses usually experienced in the afterglow of something intimate. Marianne supposed this was one of those times.
“I’m listening,” he said.
All she could manage to produce was a soft grunt in reply, especially when he moved his lips to her neck.
—
“Have you seen my bow tie?”
“Not since the party,” Susan said as she folded a few of her best handmade sweaters into her suitcase. “And do you really think you’ll need it?”
“What if there’s a black tie requirement for meals?”
She turned and gave her husband a considering look. “On a cruise?”
Nick was about to respond, but their doorbell buzzed. Like usual, he ignored it.
It buzzed again.
“Doorbell’s ringing,” Susan said.
He shrugged. “I already told everyone we were leaving today.”
The doorbell stopped, and the Gardiners just shrugged. Whoever it was had clearly given up.
But a few moments later, someone knocked on their door.
Susan rolled her eyes and looked through the peephole. Then, she let out a cry of delight and opened the door, pulling Elinor into a tight hug.
“Why, as I live and breathe, it’s Lady Macbeth!” Nick said, smiling at her. “Quick, Susan—break open that bottle of champagne we were saving for a special occasion.”
“It’s sparkling cider. And it’s at least a decade old.”
“Well, let’s go down to the drug store and—”
“No, that’s really okay,” Elinor interjected. “I tried to call ahead.”
“That’s my fault,” Susan said. “I switched off the phones because we both get terribly distracted while trying to pack.”
Elinor glanced around at the suitcases and travel bags. “You’re leaving town?”
“Yes, we’re flying out bright and early tomorrow morning,” Susan said. “It’s our first vacation in an embarrassingly long time.”
“The university said I should use my PTO, and so we’re joining Edward on his trip to Europe. A few weeks early, of course.” Nick paused, and he stared at Elinor with a concerned look. “Hey, you look a little pale. Do you need to sit down?”
“Well, I’ve just—I’ve been running around all afternoon trying to find Edward. He wasn’t at work and he wasn’t at his apartment, and he’s not answering his phone. Have you seen him?”
“Not since this morning,” Susan said.
“You knew he walked out of the engagement party,” Elinor prompted, hoping to get some more information.
“Yes, he came here and the three of us talked steadily until breakfast. He said he needed to think things over before tonight.”
“But his text said he’d only be gone a few hours,” Nick added.
“I think he was going to try and talk to Lucy one more time.”
“That’s good,” Elinor said, nodding her head and looking lost in thought.
Susan and Nick exchanged a worried look. It was Susan who reached out and put a hand on Elinor’s. “Are you sure that’s what you want? For him to go back to Lucy?”
“Oh, hell no,” Elinor replied immediately.
Nick and Susan both burst into laughter.
“Thank God,” Nick sighed. “She’s a pretty girl, but…well…”
Susan squeezed Elinor’s hand. “She’s not you.”
Elinor’s eyes filled with tears. “Is it crazy for me to say that I love you guys?”
“We love you, too!” Susan cried, pulling Elinor in for another hug.
Nick was the one to break up the merriment and warm feelings when he noted the time. And when he checked his messages, he saw that Edward had texted him that he was going to chat with Lucy.
“That was over an hour ago,” he said, feeling a little silly he hadn’t thought to check his messages sooner.
Elinor didn’t know if she had time, but she gave the two of them a rushed farewell before racing back across town to the Steele residence.
When she entered the house, she overheard raised voices in the sitting room, which could either be a good thing or a very bad thing.
“...absolute betrayal of the highest order!” Gregory Steele was saying.
Elinor poked her head into the room, only to discover that the only two people there were her uncle and cousin.
“There you are!” Lucy cried, spotting her immediately. “Do you know anything about this?”
Elinor walked forward and took the piece of paper from her cousin’s hand.
Dear Uncle,
This is to inform you that I am quitting the Steele Realty Company effective immediately. I will not be working the required month of off-boarding nor will I be training my replacement. I have been a faithful employee of yours for almost 8 years, and in that time, I have made the company quite a few extra zeros of profit—but at the expense of my own health and happiness.
You are more than welcome to blast my name all over town and in any industry you choose, but please keep in mind (and this is in no way meant to be taken as an outright threat) that I also know about several skeletons in the proverbial closet.
Oh, and I’ll be taking Colonel Brandon with me. He has left a stack of documents and binders for the next person that is hired to take over his position.
Don’t expect a Christmas card from us.
Yours truly,
Marianne and Brandon
“Well? Did you know about this?” Gregory demanded.
She was fairly certain that he expected Elinor to be similarly outraged or defiant in her defense of her own sister. Instead, Elinor managed to keep her face completely stoic as she said, “Oh, how interesting. Listen, Lucy—did Edward come to see you?”
Lucy seemed taken aback by the question. “Yes, he did. What’s it to you?”
“And are you going on the trip?”
“Well, no.”
“Is Edward taking the job?”
“What’s this all about, Elinor?” Gregory said, peering at the two women with complete confusion. He didn’t seem to see how this topic was relevant, given the most recent embarrassment to the family.
“No, he’s not taking it.”
Elinor stared at her cousin, and she was having trouble figuring out Lucy’s feelings on the matter. “And if he came back here and begged for your forgiveness?” she prompted.
“Be back?” Lucy said sharply.
“If the young man came around to our way of thinking, I’m certain we could make an allowance. It would be alright, dear,” Gregory said, placating what he assumed to be a broken heart on behalf of his daughter.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright,” Lucy retorted.
Elinor reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning Lucy towards her so she could look in her face. “You don’t love him.”
“What?”
“You don’t love him. I can see—it’s written all over you. You wanted someone you could mold and shape into your father, and when he turned out to be too headstrong, you just didn’t want him anymore. You’re relieved he’s gone, aren’t you?”
Lucy met her gaze, and the mask finally fell away. “I’m so relieved I could cry. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes, exactly. Thank you.” With that, she spun around and raced to the door.
“Elinor, what on earth is the matter with you? Where are you going?”
“I’m going on a trip. I need to pack.”
“Elinor, come back and explain yourself!” Gregory fumed.
But she turned and faced Lucy. “You never had any faith in Edward’s dreams. But even if they fall flat, he has other dreams. I have all the faith in the world in him. He can dream for a while, and even if he wants to come back and sell peanuts, I’ll believe in those peanuts, too.”
“What on earth—?” Gregory began, but she wasn’t listening.
“She’s going to him. She’s going after him!” Lucy was heard to say, but Elinor didn’t stop to respond. She didn’t have time, and she didn't fucking care anymore.
She raced up to her room—two stairs at a time—swung her door open, and stopped. Because there, sitting in the middle of the floor, was a pile of suitcases, her passport, and a note.
Took care of these for you, just in case you finally figured it out in time. I’ll call you when Brandon and I reach our destination (wherever that may be).
Love,
Marianne
Elinor just grabbed her bags, and she was out of there.
Notes:
WHEW! Things are happening!
Probably one more chapter left for this story, and I hope to get it done sooner rather than later. Brandon and Marianne finally got their stuff together, and now it's Edward and Elinor's turn.
Good riddance to Lucy and Gregory! I hope they're both scrambling to figure things out now that everyone just up and left.
Chapter 11: Very little fanfare
Summary:
"I hope you’ll be patient with me, and forgive me for being such a blind idiot.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Edward missed his flight. He chalked it up to his distracted state of mind. How could he have been so blind about Lucy? What was he thinking trying to give her a second chance, when she would turn him down just as hard and fast as before? The entire conversation had been a waste of breath. Furthermore, he feared the entire affair had been a waste of his time and energy. Though, the only bright spot in all of it was realizing that he had gained two new friends in Marianne and Elinor. Colonel Brandon was an extension of that as well. He wished he had gotten a chance to see them again before leaving. Especially Elinor.
And maybe that was the reason for his distractedness. He couldn’t get her off of his mind, and he wondered if he should feel guilty for thinking about her the same day he’d broken it off with his fiancee—the woman he had supposedly fallen madly in love with a month ago.
He was so distracted, in fact, that he didn’t realize his phone was dead until he’d finally gotten on the plane. It had been a standby ticket, and now all of his connecting flights were a complete mess. He’d even neglected to pack his phone charger, too. He just hoped that Susan and Nick weren’t assuming the worst about their dear friend.
During a 15 minute layover, he finally managed to make a call on the courtesy phone (which he was thankful still existed, in this modern age—and that he knew Susan's number by heart). Since she was the type of person to never answer an unfamiliar number, he had to leave a voicemail. But it was worth it to let them know that he was still alive and en route to their destination, even if the 1-minute call probably cost him $50.
Finally, he arrived in Paris and took a taxi to the hotel, where he promptly purchased an overpriced charger for his phone, plugged it in, and fell asleep.
He awoke to his phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand.
“Edward!” Susan was practically screeching when he called her back. “I can’t believe you forgot the one thing I asked you to pack!”
“Are you on the way?” Nick asked.
“Shit,” Edward said, when he saw the time.
Susan was not at all pleased to hear this, and she swore up and down that she would throttle him the moment she laid eyes on him for all the worry he’d caused.
Naturally, she didn’t actually follow through with such a threat, because she was too relieved to see he’d made it onto the boat. She pulled him in for a hug, and Nick helped Edward carry his bags to his private room on the lower deck. Edward took a moment to change into fresh clothes before meeting his friends outside their room.
“Edward, you’ve left your phone in the room again. Haven’t you seen any of the messages I sent you?” Susan said, giving Edward a well-deserved scolding look.
“Haven’t even had a moment to think, let alone scroll through my notifications.” He sighed. “Besides, I’m relieved to be rid of it for a little while. Lucy tried to call me. Twice.”
Susan hummed and linked her arm with his as they walked to the upper deck for cast-off. “And how are you feeling?”
“Absolutely drained,” he confessed. “I intend to drink heavily, eat as much as I please, and avoid romance at all cost for the rest of this trip.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Don’t speak too soon, my boy.”
Edward wanted to ask what that meant when his eyes fell on a familiar figure standing near the railing.
She looked positively dreamy in the full sun and with the wind pulling her hair from an elegant braid. She was staring at him with a look of deep uncertainty as she said, “I hope it’s alright that I invited myself along.”
But Edward didn’t say a word. He just walked over, pulled Elinor into his arms, and kissed her.
Susan declared that she wished to see the view from the opposite side of the boat. Nick thought that was a capital idea, and the two of them disappeared.
Edward stared down at Elinor with an expression of intense relief. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to see you again,” he said.
She was a bit out of breath from their spontaneous kiss, and it took her a moment before she could adequately respond. “I messaged you. Several times.”
“I’m a complete mess - in more ways than one at the moment. So I hope you’ll be patient with me, and forgive me for being such a blind idiot.”
Elinor reached up and toyed with the front of his shirt, laughing (and blushing) as she said, “You’re the one that seems to be in such a rush.”
He grinned and reluctantly released her from his arms. “I couldn’t help it. You’re just the best, Elinor. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner.”
Elinor breathed a sigh, and said, “Well, I think you weren’t the only one who was taken in by Lucy’s looks. I had myself convinced that she really cared about you and that she harbored even the least bit of affection for me and my sister. I tried to find you and tell you as much, but we just kept missing each other.”
“Timing just wasn’t on our side.”
“But it is now?” she asked, looking uncertain again.
He sighed, and he couldn’t help pulling her into his arms again. “I have sworn off of whirlwind romances. But I’ll make an exception for the right woman. If she’ll have me.”
Elinor, who wasn’t usually so bold (especially when it came to men), simply leaned forward and kissed him again. She was thoroughly enjoying this activity, and the sensations it elicited, when she suddenly leaned back and said, “You know that means yes?”
Edward nodded and hugged her tightly. They turned and stared out at the view as the boat began to pull away from the dock. After a contented, companionable lull had fallen over them, he put his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear: “If the on-board entertainment is lousy, we could always get up on stage and recite that scene from the Scottish Play together.”
Elinor immediately lifted an arm and began reciting (rather loudly) the “Out Damned Spot” soliloquy, and he only managed to silence her with another kiss.
—
“You know, they have an app for this,” Marianne protested, as she tried in vain to fold up the paper map that had somehow grown in both size and complexity since the last time she opened it.
“But this is much more fun,” Brandon said from the driver’s seat.
“We’re lost!” She indicated the cornfields that surrounded them and the empty, cracked pavement of the streets. She tried, and failed, to find their place on the map.
“That’s the whole point,” he insisted.
Marianne relented and decided to give it one more try. She lasted about 30 seconds before she crumpled up the map and tossed it into the backseat. She refused to turn her phone back on (since Lucy and Gregory kept calling her), but she picked up Brandon’s phone in the vain hopes that she’d find any sort of navigation app.
“Nice lock screen photo,” she said, giving him a sly look when she realized he had downloaded the selfie they’d taken together. “It seems you do know how to use technology.” Before he could respond, she let out a cry of surprise when she saw a notification come through.
Without bothering to ask his permission (he’d already told her she had full access to his phone if she needed it), she opened the message and was delighted to find a photo from Elinor. It showed Edward, Nick, and Susan all drinking elaborate and colorful beverages with paper umbrellas sticking out of the top. The next photo that came through was a selfie of Elinor and Edward on the bow of the boat with their arms around each other.
“Finally,” Marianne breathed. “I’m glad they’re happy.”
Brandon was quiet for a moment before he asked a question that had been nagging at him. “Are you happy? I mean, about us not having any plans at the moment. The uncertain future. All of that.”
Marianne looked at him as if he had two heads. “Are you kidding? I’m free. For the first time in over 10 years, I’m free . I’m just surprised it took you this long to make a move.”
He smirked, and she was gratified to see that he was actually blushing a bit. He was so handsome.
“Or maybe it just took me this long to notice you,” she added. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Don’t be,” he assured her, reaching for her hand and holding it. “Should we go left or right?”
Marianne glanced at the unfamiliar names on the road sign in front of them. They were somewhere in Ohio with absolutely no idea where they were going. But she smiled, realizing that for the first time, she had the liberty to choose where she wanted to go. And so, she pointed to the left.
—
A month later, Gregory Steele released a statement about Marianne’s “departure” from the family company. There was no mention of any ill will, just that she was “exploring other ventures.” There was no mention of the fact that she had run off with his best member of staff or that his other niece Elinor was currently abroad with Lucy Steele’s former fiancé.
And after a while, it seemed as though the Steeles had managed to gloss over their little embarrassments. Lucy got engaged two more times before she found her “Mr. Right,” in the form of an investment banker from Wall Street. They lived as happily as two extremely wealthy, unhappy individuals could be.
Marianne and the colonel were the first to get married, after they settled down in a small town in Colorado. He was the manager of a mountain lodge resort, and Marianne was extremely successful as a realtor (she was good at it, after all. And she realized she did enjoy the work, when she wasn’t under her uncle’s thumb).
Elinor and Edward spent three years traveling until it seemed their wanderlust had finally come to an end - or they ran out of money. Either way, they managed to find themselves a little home in Colorado, close enough to visit Marianne and the colonel whenever they liked.
It was purely coincidental (they claimed) that Nick was transferred to the University of Colorado the following year. Soon enough, the 5th Avenue Anti-Stuffed Shirt and Flying Trapeze Club was reinstated, with very little fanfare but plenty of happiness all around.
Notes:
I have to admit that this story was a challenge, mostly because of Edward's blindness and having to endure such awful characters as Lucy and Gregory Steele. But good riddance to both of them!
Marianne and Elinor are finally free and with the right people. And with excellent friends, in the form of the Gardiners.Happiness all around! I hope you enjoyed this one! <3
Pages Navigation
New_York_Times_Books on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Jan 2024 07:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Jan 2024 04:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 1 Mon 08 Jan 2024 08:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Mon 08 Jan 2024 11:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 12:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 12:45AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 02:40AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 02:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
Rosiegirl1009 on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 02:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jan 2024 05:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kalee233 on Chapter 1 Tue 06 Feb 2024 06:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 1 Wed 07 Feb 2024 06:57PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 07 Feb 2024 06:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 2 Tue 09 Jan 2024 02:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 2 Tue 09 Jan 2024 02:02PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kalee233 on Chapter 2 Tue 06 Feb 2024 06:40AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 2 Wed 07 Feb 2024 06:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 2 Mon 12 Feb 2024 10:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 2 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 3 Wed 24 Jan 2024 08:46PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 3 Fri 26 Jan 2024 02:24AM UTC
Comment Actions
Kalee233 on Chapter 3 Tue 06 Feb 2024 06:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 3 Wed 07 Feb 2024 07:02PM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 3 Mon 12 Feb 2024 10:46PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 3 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 4 Mon 05 Feb 2024 05:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 4 Mon 05 Feb 2024 10:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kalee233 on Chapter 4 Tue 06 Feb 2024 07:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 4 Wed 07 Feb 2024 07:05PM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 4 Mon 12 Feb 2024 11:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 4 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 5 Wed 07 Feb 2024 09:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 5 Thu 08 Feb 2024 04:40PM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 12 Feb 2024 11:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 5 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 6 Thu 08 Feb 2024 08:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 6 Thu 08 Feb 2024 10:26PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 08 Feb 2024 10:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 6 Mon 12 Feb 2024 11:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 6 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:40AM UTC
Comment Actions
NEclectic on Chapter 7 Sat 10 Feb 2024 02:01AM UTC
Last Edited Sat 10 Feb 2024 02:08AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 7 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:32AM UTC
Comment Actions
Vyy (Guest) on Chapter 7 Tue 13 Feb 2024 12:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 7 Wed 14 Feb 2024 12:41AM UTC
Comment Actions
snafsnaf on Chapter 8 Thu 15 Feb 2024 10:31PM UTC
Comment Actions
Riadasti on Chapter 8 Thu 15 Feb 2024 10:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation