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Storm, Grey Morning, Lovely Afternoon

Summary:

After Mrs. Dashwood's arrival at Cleveland, Elinor collapses from exhaustion, wakes to find the affections she thought so sure now shifting like sand, and finally takes a pleasant walk with Colonel Brandon to everyone's satisfaction.

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Work Text:

By the time Mrs. Dashwood arrived at Cleveland, Elinor was on her last legs, apparently literally.

When she delivered her mother into Marianne's sick room, she sat hard on the bench outside the door, her head suddenly swimming with exhaustion and Willoughby's terrible visit that evening. Then, Colonel Brandon was before her, kneeling before her in only his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, taking her hand between his.

"Miss Dashwood, are you well?" he asked. "It is not what has made Miss Marianne ill, is it?"

She shook her head, unable to speak to reassure him that she only needed a moment.

His look of concern spoke of the true friendship they held between them, the affection born of his love for her sister and their mutual enjoyment of quiet conversation at the edges of the Middletons' parties. His eyes searched her face and she took comfort in his gaze. Here was a man who was everything a man ought to be, and she was glad of his attention while Marianne could not be seen.

"May I fetch you a glass of wine, Miss Dashwood?" he asked after finally recollecting himself.

She took a deep breath and thought it steadied her enough that she could go to get the glass herself, but when she stood, she found the edges of her vision go foggy and dark, and then in the next moment, she was in Colonel Brandon's arms. She had the odd thought that this was just how Marianne had become entangled with Willoughby, and then the world was dark and she knew nothing but the gentle, strong hold of the only man she admired unequivocally.

"My goodness, Colonel! What has happened!"

"Mrs. Jennings, I fear Miss Dashwood is consumed by exhaustion. I am taking her to her chamber and I will leave her in care of you and her mother."

"Yes, yes! By all means! Poor dear. She has been staying up with Marianne far more than anyone."

She could feel that she was laid on her bed and a gentle hand drew across her brow.

"Ah, that is how it is, Colonel… Well, I shall not tell, though I have many times thought it, and heard it said by many of our acquaintance… And to think we ever teased her about Mr. F!"

"I leave her in your capable hands, Mrs. Jennings."

The touch on her brow now could only be her mother's.

"Oh, my dear Elinor, you are too good, you do more than needs must. You have nursed Marianne only to send yourself into decline."

With her mother's soft touch, Elinor felt herself sink further into a finally restful sleep.

-

Elinor woke the next morning to Mrs. Jennings chattering to the maid in the hallway and a refreshingly grey morning after last night's terrible storms of both mind and body. She stretched and found that though she was still tired, she was no longer fuzzy with exhaustion.

When the maid had come and gone, she found her way down to breakfast where the Colonel rose and bowed to her most solemnly. "Miss Dashwood, I am relieved to see you are recovered."

She went to him, feeling so much gratitude, she needed to squeeze his hands. "Colonel, thank you for bringing my mother from Barton. I cannot tell you how much we all owe you for your kindness."

He bore her attention, but immediately shook his head. "I wished to be of use, and you gave me that reason, Miss Dashwood."

Elinor's heart clenched, knowing what he must have endured in his love for Marianne. "I am sure Marianne will be most grateful. My mother says she is entirely safe now, only weakened from the infection."

"I am glad to hear it," he said. "I only wish it had not come at the expense of your health as well."

He was gazing at her again, just as he had done last night, and Elinor saw it with eyes almost entirely new. She must have looked puzzled, because the Colonel looked away and drew out her chair so she could sit for her breakfast.

What had she thought last night? That he was the only man she admired unequivocally. Surely that could not be true. She had admired Edward for months. But then Edward had been engaged to Lucy Steele since before meeting Elinor. She knew she had no claim on his affections, and now that she knew of his long, complicated history with Lucy, she had trouble thinking of him with the same dear longing she had felt before meeting that lady.

But somehow, Colonel Brandon had only ever grown in her esteem. Truly the only pause had been when Mrs. Jennings had intimated that he had a natural daughter, but the Colonel himself had cleared that issue entirely in recounting to her his personal history. He was calm of temperament, quietly wry in his humour, liberal in his beliefs, and generous with his time and attention to all his friends and neighbours.

After their comfortably quiet breakfast, Elinor joined her mother, finding Marianne sleeping peacefully again. Her mother drew her toward the window seat, eyes bright with such a look as Elinor had never seen there since the early days of Marianne's involvement with Willoughby.

"My dear Elinor," said her mother, "I am so glad you are improved. Colonel Brandon told me only moments after your collapse. But, Elinor, that is what I must tell you."

Elinor could only wait for her mother to gather her thoughts into proper order. "Something of Colonel Brandon?"

With an almost teary burst of emotion, her mother said, "He loves you! He told me so on the drive from Barton. I thanked him for his kind attention to Marianne, and he said he was glad it would help her, but that he had done it more so for you than anyone as Marianne was at that point thought to be worsening. Then, he said he would do anything in his power for you, Elinor." She searched Elinor's face, and found it passive with shock. "Do you love him, dear Elinor?"

Elinor found her mouth opening and closing, with no words escaping at the proper interval. Finally, she took a breath and refocused on her mother's face, that had become indistinct as she let the pieces of her own personal emotional puzzle fall into place.

"I had not thought until this moment whether I do," she said, "but I have recently come to realize that I admire him more than any other man of my acquaintance."

Her mother let out a little breath of amazement. "More even than Edward?"

Elinor shook her head slowly, parsing out her words to be clearest in all meaning. "Edward has been engaged to Lucy Steele for so long, I can have no reason to believe he ever felt more than familial friendship for me. Think of how he acted during his visit to Barton. If he did not feel the indifference he communicated, I do not know what I should do with that affection as he is engaged to Lucy Steele, and is currently in Oxford taking steps to secure a comfortable living so they may marry. Why should I esteem Edward as I esteem Colonel Brandon?"

Her mother took her hand then, squeezing it to her bosom. "So, you do love the Colonel! It is just what I have hoped since hearing his sentiments."

Elinor took another breath. "I believe that if those are his sentiments, I ought to hear them from him, with any implications clear between us."

Marianne took a shuddering breath and coughed a small fit then, clearing her lungs again as their mother helped her to sit up and take some of the tonic Mr. Harris had prescribed.

Elinor made herself useful as their mother dozed in a comfortable chair in the corner. She contemplated the Colonel's gaze and the slight memory she had of being carried in his arms. She had never been the sort of lady to swoon and need to be caught. But then, the taxation of the past few months had compounded intensely with Marianne's illness and Willoughby's visit.

And, who could be a safer gentleman's arms into which to swoon than Colonel Brandon? He was everything a gentleman should be.

Oh, but that sentiment had come often into her mind of late. It seemed to have replaced the way she watched him falling in love with her sister.

When her mother woke again just before luncheon, the morning's grey rain had given way to the soft sun of early spring. She resumed her place at Marianne's bedside and ushered Elinor off to dine with Mrs. Jennings and the Colonel.

Mrs. Jennings had apparently found out Colonel Brandon's feelings and was indelicately teasing them both on the subject.

Finally, Elinor said, "Ma'am, I beg you will allow that anything which should be said on this subject is up to Colonel and myself to say!"

"Why, of course, my dear girl," said the lady, "it's only that young lovers like to be teased."

Colonel Brandon's cheeks had flushed, and Elinor was quite certain her own had taken on the same tone.

After luncheon (which lasted only one more turn of the conversation, to everyone's satisfaction), Colonel Brandon looked intently at Elinor and then announced that as the rain had cleared, he would go for a short walk down the lane. Elinor agreed that a walk sounded pleasant after being indoors so long, and now that her mother could care for Marianne.

They did not speak for several minutes as they left the immediate park surrounding Cleveland and let the expectations of everyone in the house fade behind them.

"I expect your mother spoke to you this morning of our conversation while we returned from Barton?" began Brandon.

Elinor agreed that she had spoken to her mother on the subject that morning.

"I confess, I am only confused on one point," she said, and Brandon gave her a puzzled look and gestured her to explain. "Since first making our acquaintance, I had believed your affections lay elsewhere."

Brandon sighed. "In our first acquaintance, I did find myself drawn to Miss Marianne. I saw in her my first lost Eliza. Then, when I found my second lost Eliza, I could not see in her anyone but the child who had succumbed to the same rake, though with not such a terrible outcome. In Marianne, I see a young lady who is of the same temperament and deep emotion as my Elizas, but who may yet live a respectable life now she is out of Willoughby's clutches. It is only the alarming similarities that have put my attention on Marianne. I have found myself noticing how little those ladies wish to know themselves, and how much I admire ladies who do."

He stopped and turned to her. "But, Elinor, since our meeting again in town, I confess that the only lady whose presence for which I have always longed was yours. I have admired your forbearance in your sister and Willoughby's affairs, and your help to your friend Mr. Ferrars and his fiance. In company, whenever you watched others, I could not help watching you, marveling at your poise in handling our good neighbors and your impertinent relatives in their turns. I have never struggled to make pleasant conversation with you, and I have hoped to entertain you a little in my own turn." He reached for her hand and she gave it gladly. "Elinor, is it too much to ask? When your sister has only just come through her illness with no further fear? Might I ask if you would make me all the happier and consent to be my wife?"

His speech had exhausted any doubts in Elinor's mind. With tears of honest relief, she nodded and said, "Yes, my dear Brandon!"

Once again, she knew his arms circling her, and his gentle hand on her brow. Now, she was fully cognizant of his kiss to her forehead, and she tilted her head up, to accept his full kiss, and return it with all the passion she knew could not be described by even Marianne's beloved poets.

Presently, they walked on, finding that their conversation as lovers was quite as agreeable as any conversation they had ever had, and as such they must be the most fortunate couple in the whole of England to be so well matched.

Mrs. Jennings was welcomed to Delaford before Michaelmas, though not to the particular house she had expected, and she never stopped teasing them as long as she lived.