Expectations of Happiness (33 page)

***

When the time came for their wedding, they insisted on the smallest possible gathering of friends and family, but were happy to have the occasion celebrated at the manor house, with a degree of style and extravagance that Colonel Brandon's generosity of spirit and Marianne's sense of occasion deemed essential.

“My dear Margaret,” the colonel had said solemnly, “your mama will not be happy, nor will we be, your sister and I, if you were not to have your own wedding celebrated in proper style. Besides, it is the best possible reason for a family celebration, and since I have the highest regard for your Mr Daniel Brooke, I believe it is incumbent on us to welcome him into our family in the proper manner. Do you not agree?”

Margaret agreed completely, delighted that her Mr Brooke had been so warmly accepted by everyone who mattered to her. Sir John, with his talent for overstatement, had declared that they were honoured indeed to have a scholar of such distinction in the family, adding, “Well, I always said that Margaret was the brightest one, did I not? So it is no surprise that she has got herself the cleverest husband.” Prompted by his wife to clarify his preference, lest he offend her other sons-in-law, he had assured them that he admired Edward and loved his dear friend Brandon unreservedly as well.

On their wedding day, Dr Francis Grantley and his elegant wife, Georgiana, attended, and Dr Grantley spoke most eloquently of his friend and colleague Daniel Brooke, while Edward Ferrars conducted the marriage service.

The beautiful young bride was the centre of attention, and all the traditional ceremonies of the old Dorset village were in place when the bride and groom walked out of the church, man and wife, to the cheers of the gathered guests, who included Nicholas and Claire Wilcox and some of the teachers and pupils from the seminary, to which Margaret owed so much.

After a splendid wedding breakfast, at which Margaret, seeing her family and her husband mingle happily together, was unable to restrain her tears, while her mother and both her sisters did not even try to hide theirs, the family watched with pride as the youngest Miss Dashwood departed with a degree of style and élan that could not have been anticipated those many years ago, when the death of their father had left them homeless and bereft.

Daniel and Margaret were driven away in Colonel Brandon's carriage, bound for Plymouth, from where they were due to sail on the morning tide for Marseilles and Provence.

Winter 1820

Christmas found the Dashwood women together again; this time at Barton Park, for Sir John had insisted that he should be permitted to host the happy occasion of their reunion.

Despite the gloomy prognostications of certain persons in his circle, Sir John's marriage to Mrs Dashwood had been celebrated amidst much goodwill, for they both had many friends and neighbours who had reason to be grateful for the generosity of one or the cheerful kindness of the other.

Mrs Dashwood, never one to hold a grudge, had forgiven Mrs Jennings and Charlotte Palmer for their lapse in manners, and in view of the exemplary conduct of the very droll Mr Palmer, they were all invited to spend Christmas at Barton Park, where they could make amends for their past errors by praising both Sir John and his lady to excess. Besides, as Elinor whispered to her husband, she was quite certain that there was a twinkle in her mother's eye each time someone addressed her as “Lady Middleton.”

But the new Lady Middleton's charitable nature did not extend to John Dashwood and his wife, Fanny, who had been seen and heard at the wedding, sniggering at the bride's elegant gown, said to have been selected from one of the best dress salons in London. Fanny had claimed it cost twice as much as her own wedding gown and was a wasteful extravagance, a remark that soon made its way back to the happy bride.

The Dashwoods' disappointment at not being invited to Barton Park at Christmas, had to be borne with patience at a far less entertaining function hosted by Fanny's mother, Mrs Ferrars, at which she spent much of her time bemoaning the fact that her son Robert's wife, Lucy, had produced not the grandson she had hoped for but a rather weak-looking little girl, whose features owed nothing to the Ferrars family and who was to be named not Constance, after her grandmother, but Clarissa, after the heroine of some romantic novel!

Clearly, Mrs Ferrars was disinclined to change her will to favour the child—a fact that pleased Fanny beyond measure. As she had done on a previous occasion, when she had dissuaded her husband, John, from materially assisting his sisters, despite a pledge made at his father's deathbed, she had argued against her mother's initial plan.

“Why would you do it?” she had asked. “Why would you impoverish our dear boy by reducing the funds available for his inheritance and handing them out to all and sundry? It makes no sense at all.” Needless to say her husband agreed completely, while Robert and Lucy Ferrars felt so aggrieved, they turned down the invitation to Christmas dinner with Mrs Ferrars and elected to spend it with friends in Dawlish on the other side of the country!

Meanwhile, Edward and Elinor, Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and Margaret with Daniel Brooke had come together to celebrate Christmas in what was without doubt the most hospitable household in the county, possibly in England, for Sir John was determined that all his tenants and servants should also share in his happiness.

Among the many friends who joined them at Barton Park on Christmas Eve were Dr Bradley King and his wife, who brought apologies from their daughter, Dorothea, together with the happy news that she was spending Christmas day with the family of the young guardsman—who had finally summoned up the courage to ask her to marry him. No one was in any doubt that Dr and Mrs King were thoroughly delighted.

Also there that evening was a young woman who was known only to a few in the party: Eliza Williams, with her nine-year-old daughter, Alice. Mrs Williams, as she called herself, soberly dressed and quietly spoken, was accorded by both Sir John and Lady Middleton the same degree of attention and cordiality as all their other guests, and Elinor noted with pleasure that her sister Marianne and Colonel Brandon had brought gifts for the little girl and her mother—something that would have been unthinkable a year ago. Eliza, who had lost most of the rather petulant expression that had long blemished a pretty face, was seen accepting them with smiles and thanks that augured well, Elinor thought, for her future, as well as Marianne's peace of mind. Of Colonel Brandon's satisfaction there was no doubt, since the question of the welfare of Eliza and her daughter had been so happily settled, without in any way disconcerting his wife. Once again it was something he owed to the generosity of his friend Sir John and the genuine kindness of his wife.

Elinor had recently ascertained from her mother that Sir John was adamant that young Eliza Williams was not—contrary to the piece of petty calumny put about by Mrs Jennings—the natural daughter of Colonel Brandon. She was, he had declared emphatically, the child of the colonel's brother's wife, also Eliza, who had been monstrously mistreated by her husband and others, leaving her destitute. Colonel Brandon had been the only member of his family who had been willing to help her. It was something for which he should have been honoured, Sir John had said, not pilloried, as some stupid folk had tried to do.

Since this account confirmed that which Colonel Brandon had related to her several years ago, when Willoughby's duplicity had been first exposed, Elinor had consulted her husband and, on his advice, proceeded with some delicacy and not a little trepidation to convey this information to her sister Marianne, intending that it would quiet her previous suspicions about her husband's involvement with Eliza Williams.

To her delight, she discovered that while on their extended tour of France, following the colonel's recovery from his accident, Marianne and he had rediscovered the art of communication, and the matter of Eliza and her child had been discussed between them. Marianne, having been assured of the facts by her husband, whom she trusted implicitly, no longer harboured any suspicions or grievances against the hapless Miss Williams and her daughter.

“She has been the victim of great misfortune and cruelty, Elinor, as was her mother, and Colonel Brandon and I are determined to assist her and little Alice as best we can,” Marianne had told Elinor, explaining that the colonel had planned to pay the rent for Barton Cottage and make an allowance to Eliza to enable her to live respectably and educate her daughter. It was a decision that her sister applauded.

Returning to the parsonage, Elinor had found her husband waiting for her in a state of some anxiety, but her smiling countenance had reassured him even before she spoke. “Oh Edward, it is quite the best news I have heard in many months. It is such a significant change for both Marianne and Eliza Williams. I had been afraid even to hope, because my sister was so set against the girl; this means Marianne is more confident of her own place in Colonel Brandon's affections and no longer regards Eliza with suspicion. Indeed, it's like a little miracle,” she cried, and he was relieved and pleased.

***

Many things had changed in the course of that year.

On Christmas night, as they sat around the great dining table at Barton Park, each one had something to be grateful for. Sir John, with his wife beside him, regarded his friends and family gathered there, and was ready to admit that he was happier than he had ever expected he could be. His marriage to Mrs Dashwood had brought a different kind of felicity to that which he had enjoyed before, one that took more pleasure in the company of a loving wife and a comfortable family home, than in the pastimes of galloping around the countryside hunting and shooting and counting the number of birds in his bag.

His lifelong friend Colonel Brandon and his beautiful wife were now happily settled at Delaford and so were Edward and Elinor, who were very dear to him. But, as he had said when he raised his glass to welcome them to Barton Park for the first time as Mr and Mrs Brooke, he was proudest of the achievements of young Miss Margaret. “I always knew,” he said, confident that he would not be contradicted, “that the youngest Miss Dashwood would surprise us all. And she has—in the most delightful way.”

Margaret and Daniel had been married but a few months, and after some magical weeks spent in Provence, they returned with much to celebrate.

Margaret's first book,
A Country Childhood,
had been well received and her publishers had been happy to accept the manuscript of
A Provençal Journey
, but her greatest reward came from helping her husband complete his work on the ancient abbeys and churches of Provence, which was to be published by the university in the new year. Their lives were now fulfilled and in the closest harmony.

The familiar sounds of a party of carol singers in the porch caused several of the guests to leave the table and rush to the front door; Mrs Williams, the housekeeper, and her staff had brought out refreshments for the singers, who were in good voice, and many of the guests joined in the singing, led by Sir John himself. But for Edward, Elinor, and Lady Middleton, who had remained seated at the table, Margaret and Daniel had some very special news. Confirmed only this week, they were delighted to share their secret: Margaret was expecting their child next spring.

The ecstatic response with which this happy piece of news was received was almost drowned out by the hearty singing of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” in the hall, but no matter, for there would be time enough to tell the others.

For now, they were content to share the felicity of the moment just with those they loved the most.

A list of the main characters in
Expectations of Happiness
:

Readers familiar with the original Austen novel will realise that most of the main characters in this sequel come directly from Jane Austen's
Sense and Sensibility
.

Mrs Dashwood and her three daughters—Elinor (now Mrs Edward Ferrars), Marianne (now Mrs Brandon), and Margaret. Margaret is a teacher in a ladies' seminary in the neighbouring county of Oxfordshire.

Edward Ferrars (Elinor's husband)—parson at Delaford parish

Colonel Brandon (Marianne's husband)—owns the estate of Delaford in the county of Dorset

Sir John Middleton—of Barton Park in the county of Devonshire; Mrs Dashwood's cousin

Mrs Jennings—his mother-in-law (mother of Lady Middleton and Charlotte Palmer)

Mr Palmer—Charlotte's husband

John Dashwood—stepson of Mrs Dashwood and stepbrother to her three daughters

Fanny (his wife)—daughter of Mrs Ferrars and elder sister of Edward and Robert Ferrars

Lucy Steele (Mrs Robert Ferrars)—once secretly engaged to Edward, jilted him to marry his brother

Mr John Willoughby—a young man who courted Marianne when she was seventeen, but jilted her and married a rich heiress, Sophia Grey

Eliza Williams—a young relative of Colonel Brandon, who was seduced and abandoned by Willoughby, leaving her with an illegitimate daughter, whom I have named Alice

***

From the imagination of Rebecca Ann Collins, some new characters:

Miss Claire Jones—a close friend and confidante of Margaret Dashwood

Mr Nicholas Wilcox—an Oxford tutor and friend of Claire Jones

Mr Daniel Brooke—an Oxford historian and colleague of Mr Wilcox

Dr Francis Grantley (from the Pemberley Chronicles, husband of Georgiana Darcy)—an Oxford theologian and close friend of Daniel Brooke

Dr and Mrs Bradley King—close friends of Elinor and Edward

Dorothea King—their daughter

Mr and Mrs Perceval and their daughters, Maria and Eugenie—friends of Marianne

Misses Harriet and Hannah Hawthorne—friends of the Percevals

Miss Henrietta Clift—a cousin of Mr Willoughby, known to Mrs Helen King

Mr Mark Armitage—a publisher