‘Marianne is so much recovered that I think it is safe to move her, so we must trespass on your hospitality no longer. ’
‘My dear Mrs Dashwood, it is no trespass, I do assure you. You must stay here as long as you like,’ she said.
‘That is very kind of you, but I think it is time for us to go home.’
‘You must accept the use of my carriage,’ I said. ‘It will make Miss Marianne more comfortable on the way.’
‘Colonel, you have done so much for me and my family, you have earned the right to call my daughters Elinor and Marianne.’
I thanked her.
‘I accept your offer of the carriage. You must reclaim it by visiting us in a few weeks’ time, when Marianne has fully recovered. ’
I was delighted to accept the invitation.
Wednesday 26 April
The morning was all bustle as preparations were made for the Dashwoods’ removal. Maids ran to and fro with rugs and stone hot-water bottles for Marianne, to keep her warm on the journey; footmen carried boxes and bags downstairs, and coach-men loaded them on to the carriage.
When all was ready, they took their leave, with Marianne taking a particularly long and affectionate leave of Mrs Jennings, for I believe she felt she had neglected her hostess’s kindness in the past, and then I handed her into the carriage.
‘Thank you for all you have done for me,’ she said to me in heartfelt tones.
I pressed her hand, and then said, ‘Have you everything you need?’
‘Yes, thank you, everything.’
Her mother and sister joined her in the carriage, and then it pulled away.
I left soon afterwards, having thanked Mrs Jennings for her hospitality, and returned to Delaford.
Friday 28 April
The weather was wet, but I scarcely had time to notice it as I went over the accounts and paid attention to business which I have been lately neglecting. I was glad to be busy, and I talked over the planting of new timber with Havers, as well as the building of a new wall at the bottom of the long field and the extension of the home farm.
Saturday 29 April
I spent the morning on estate business, and this afternoon I went to the stables to see Cinnamon. She was looking sleek and healthy.
From there, I walked over to the cottage to see Eliza. I found her playing with the baby in the mild spring sunshine. She sprang up, delighted to see me, and came towards me dandling Elizabeth in her arms.
‘She looks just like you,’ I said, as I took the baby. ‘She has your eyes and your smile.’
She chucked her daughter under the chin, and we talked of the baby until she began to cry. I handed her back to Eliza and then went on to the parsonage. I looked around it, inside and out, and made a note of the repairs that needed carrying out, and then returned to the mansion house, where I pored over the accounts until bedtime.
Tuesday 2 May
I took Tom Carpenter over to the parsonage today and I pointed out everything that I wanted him to attend to. He told me that he could have the work finished in a month.
‘But the roof needs fixing,’ he said, as he felt the wall. He took his hand away and it was damp. ‘I’ll send Will over to look at it this afternoon.’
From the parsonage I returned to the mansion house. I passed Robert Lambton on the way, and I stopped to talk to him, for he had been on his way to see me. He wanted to take over the derelict barn at Four Lanes End, and I was pleased to learn that his farm was prospering enough for him to need it.
‘Ay, I am doing very well,’ he said.
As he spoke, his eyes strayed over my shoulder, and, turning my head, I saw what had caught his eye. It was Eliza, who was in the garden of her cottage again, playing with the baby. I had forgotten how beautiful she was, for I had grown accustomed to her face, but Robert had not forgotten, and as he watched her, it was clear he was attracted to her. He knew her history, for in such a small village nothing could be kept secret, but still he watched her, and I found myself thinking that if a good man such as Robert Lambton should fall in love with her, then what a happy outcome of all the past year’s trials it would be.
Thursday 4 May
I walked down to the parsonage this morning, and I saw that the works were proceeding as quickly as could be expected. Then I went to see Eliza. Knowing that Robert would be at Four Lanes End, I suggested a walk and I bent our steps in that direction. Sure enough, there he was, overseeing the work on the barn.
I introduced him to Eliza and he greeted her with respect. After some minutes talking to him about the barn, we went on our way, and his eyes followed us.
I returned to the mansion house at last and ate my dinner in solitary splendour.
I miss Marianne.
Friday 5 May
The wet weather reminded me that the path by the river needed raising so that it will not flood next year, and I gave instructions for the matter to be attended to.
Monday 15 May
I received a letter from Mrs Dashwood this morning. Marianne is growing in strength daily and is now well enough to be allowed outside when the weather is fine. She ended her letter by inviting me to stay, and I wrote back at once to accept.
Tuesday 16 May
I dressed slowly this morning, for I was apprehensive about going to Barton, and as I travelled to Devonshire, I wondered if Marianne would ever see me as a husband, or if she would never see me as anything more than a friend.
Wednesday 17 May
I reached Barton in good time, and I knocked on the door and was shown in. Marianne was sitting by the window, and I was heartened to see how well she looked. She had lost her pallor and her skin was as brown as it was when first I saw her last year. Her figure, which had been gaunt after her illness, had regained its fullness, and she was blooming.
She sprang to her feet when she saw me and came forward to welcome me with a smile.
‘We did not look for you so soon. You are very welcome.’
Then Mrs Dashwood came forward and welcomed me.
‘We have missed you. We have all missed you, have we not, Marianne?’ she said.
‘Yes, indeed, Mama,’ said Marianne, looking at me warmly. ‘We always miss our friends. Do sit down, Colonel. How was your journey?’
‘It was excellent, thank you,’ I said, looking at her all the while.
‘This is a day for visitors,’ said Mrs Dashwood, as tea was brought in, ‘for we have another guest.’
‘Oh?’ I asked, wondering who it could be.
‘Yes. It is someone you will like to see, for it is Edward Ferrars,’ said Marianne. ‘He is presently out walking with Elinor.’
‘We have a great deal to tell you, have we not, Marianne?’ said Mrs Dashwood.
‘We have,’ said Marianne.
‘You see, Colonel, Mr Edward Ferrars is soon to be my son-in-law. He and Elinor are engaged.’
‘But I thought he was engaged to Miss Lucy?’ I asked in surprise.
‘And so he was. But the engagement was not to his liking. He had entered into it as a very young man when he was far from home, and when he later realized that she did not have the qualities he needed in a wife, it was too late; they were already engaged. To make matters worse, Edward then met Elinor and discovered that she was exactly the sort of superior young woman he ought to be marrying.’
‘And I gave him the living of Delaford, thinking I was helping him,’ I said, with a shake of my head.