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Story VII - A Very Worthy Young Man
(Author's Note:
In this Sense & Sensibility variation, Edward Ferrars
is a little different.)
Edward Ferrars stood
tall by the fireplace mantel in his mother's Park Street, London
sitting room. In the room, eyes upon him, were Mrs. Ferrars,
his mother, and Mrs. Dashwood, his sister. He screwed up his
courage, took a deep breath, and declared, "Mother, Fanny,
I must ask for your congratulations. I am to be married."
The response to
this remarkable statement was immediate. "Edward!"
said Mrs. Ferrars, with all the tiny portion of maternal affection
she possessed. "This is unexpected! I had not known you
were calling regularly upon Miss Morton. Well done, my son, well
done! You must have her over for tea." She turned to her
daughter. "Fanny, do you think that tomorrow would be too
soon?"
Fanny's expression
upon hearing his news was not as sanguine as his mother's was,
and Edward knew she recalled his extended visit to Norland Park,
and his attentions to a certain young lady there. She answered
Mrs. Ferrars, however, with tolerable composure.
"I believe
that having the Mortons to tea tomorrow is perfectly acceptable.
To invite Lady and Miss Morton today, on such short notice, would
suggest mercenary motives, while later in the week would exhibit
a negligence of an unsupportable magnitude."
"Very true,
very true," replied the lady. "All must be done in
a correct manner and measure. Tomorrow shall be the day. I shall
write to Lady Morton at once."
"I should not
write to Lady Morton, Mother," said Edward gravely.
"Not write
to Lady Morton?" returned his astonished mother. "Whatever
do you mean? Of course I shall write! She is not so above me
that I cannot write! Not only are we acquainted, but she is also
the mother of your intended! This is stuff and nonsense!"
Edward knew he could
no long delay the inevitable. "You are misinformed, Mother,
as to the identity of my intended. I am to marry Fanny's sister."
He noted that Fanny
went pale while his mother looked between the two of them. "What
do you mean, Fanny's sister?" Mrs. Ferrars demanded. "Edward,
explain yourself. What have you done?"
"I have forever
assured myself of domestic bliss." Edward puffed out his
chest. "Fanny's sister, Miss Elinor Dashwood, has accepted
my suit."
"What?"
cried his mother. "That is impossible! I will not allow
it! You are to marry Miss Morton!"
"No, madam,"
returned her son. "I am by honor and inclination bound to
Miss Dashwood. The bans are to be read this week, and the announcement
shall be in tomorrow's Times."
Mrs. Ferrars leapt
from her chair. "Miss Dashwood?" She turned to Fanny.
"Is this young woman by chance related to Mr. Dashwood?"
Fanny recoiled from
Mrs. Ferrars' anger, and although Edward could see plainly that
his sister would have been happy never to answer this question,
she said in a tremulous voice, "Miss Dashwood is Mr. Dashwood's
half-sister."
Mrs. Ferrars addressed
Edward furiously. "Half-sister to John Dashwood? She has
nothing! Have you taken leave of your senses? Is a so advantageous
union long in the planning to be prevented by a young woman of
inferior birth, of no importance in the world? Heaven and earth,
of what are you thinking?
"I am of age
and sound mind. I shall marry where I choose." He tried
a gentler tone. "Mother, Miss Dashwood-Elinor-is the kindest,
sweetest young woman imaginable. She is accomplished and intelligent,
above her station in manners and comportment, and I am very fortunate
to win her tender feelings. She is a worthy addition to our family
and will make a loving daughter-"
"Never!"
Mrs. Ferrars exclaimed. "I will never allow that woman-that
fortune-hunting temptress-into my presence!"
"Madam, pray
keep a civil tongue in your head," said Edward darkly. "You
shall not disparage Miss Dashwood."
"I shall speak
as I will!"
"You know nothing
of her."
"I know she
is poor!" Mrs. Ferrars spat the word as if it was
the greatest crime in the world. "Miss Morton has thirty
thousand pounds!"
Edward raised his
chin. "Miss Morton, respectable as she is, could have ten
times that to her name and I should not be moved. Miss Dashwood's
worth is above rubies to me!"
"Bah!"
Mrs. Ferrars railed. "I knew I should have heeded Sir Robert's
advice and sent you to Mr. Pratt's at Longstaple in Plymouth!
A private education must be superior to a public one, my brother
told me. But no-you would go to public school, and thence to
Cambridge! You persuaded me against my better judgment! Cambridge
is the source of all your wild ideas!"
"If you speak
of a university education and becoming a deacon in the Church,
then I should agree with you. I told you I should not be idle.
Cambridge has been the making of me."
"It will be
the ruin of you!" Mrs. Ferrars thundered. "I control
your fortune! You will divest yourself of this unworthy
alliance-I demand it!"
Edward swallowed,
seeing what he feared had come to pass. "You threaten me,
Mother?"
Mrs. Ferrars almost
sneered. "I can cut you off without a penny, should I choose.
Do as I demand or I shall know how to act!"
The Rubicon was
before Edward. Now he had to make sure. "How will you act,
madam?"
"I will cast
you off! I will change my will in favor of your brother, Robert,
completely disowning you. Choose this bird of paradise,
and you are no longer my son!"
Edward closed his
eyes and sighed. "So be it. I warned you about your manner
of reference to Miss Dashwood. You shall not see me again until
I receive your full apology."
"Edward, no!"
cried Fanny. "Think of what you are doing!"
"Be silent,
Fanny!" snapped Mrs. Ferrars. "This is all your
doing! If you had done as I had advised and instantly expelled
those Dashwood chits upon taking possession of Norland, Edward
would not be so ensnared!"
Fanny burst into
tears, and Edward hurried to her side. Taking her hands into
his, he barked at Mrs. Ferrars, "You will leave Fanny out
of this! She had shown Christian charity to the less fortunate
and does not deserve your scorn!"
Edward was aware
he was grossly exaggerating his praise. He knew that Fanny only
tolerated the Dashwoods for her husband's sake, and suspected
she and his Brother Dashwood had not followed whatever intentions
the late Henry Dashwood left for the care of his widow and daughters.
Fanny had too much of her mother in her not to be selfish.
In spite of everything,
however, she had been a good, loving sister to him. Edward's
iron-strong sense of honor could not allow Fanny to take the
blame for actions of which she was innocent.
"If you must
harangue someone, then do so at the only person in this room
that has disappointed you, woman!"
Mother and son engaged
in a staring contest, and Mrs. Ferrars was the first to look
away.
"Take care
how you address me, boy, or you shall be starving on the streets."
"Thank you
for your concern, madam." Edward could not completely hide
the disgust in his voice.
"I meant what
I said, Edward. It is not too late. Be reasonable, and all will
be the same as it was before."
"That is impossible,
madam," Edward replied coolly. "My heart and honor
are engaged."
Mrs. Ferrars' lip
curled. "Then, where will you live? In that hovel in Devonshire?"
"You are well
informed. No, Miss Dashwood and I shall not need to seek sanctuary
at Barton Cottage."
"Where will
you go, Edward?" asked Fanny.
Edward smiled tenderly
at his sister. "For you, I will tell you. I shall take orders
and serve God and my parish."
"A parish vicar
when you should be a gentleman of property in London?" mocked
his mother. "Do not look to me for help acquiring a living,
boy! I tell you I will use all my considerable connections to
make certain that all doors are shut to you. You shall bend to
my will, if you wish to stay out of the gutter!"
Even Fanny gasped
at her mother's unfeeling cruelty.
"Thank you
for your kind concern for my well-being, madam," was her
son's sarcastic reply. To Fanny, he continued. "Do not fear
for me, dear sister. I have already had a conversation with the
Dashwoods' friend, Colonel Brandon of Delaford in Dorsetshire.
Besides, a friend from Cambridge has a living available."
He turned to his mother. "Do you remember my schoolmate,
Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?"
Mrs. Ferrars' surprised
countenance proved that she did.
Edward continued.
"The parish of Kympton is in Derbyshire, only a few miles
from Pemberley and Matlock. That is the seat of the Earl of Matlock,
Darcy's uncle. Are you acquainted with the earl and countess,
madam? Or Mr. Darcy's other uncle, the bishop? No? Pity."
"Mr. Darcy
has a bishop in the family?" asked Fanny, as Mrs. Ferrars
stood stone-faced.
"Yes, a very
learned, pious, generous man-I must say, close to the archbishop,"
Edward said with a glance at his mother.
"You have met
the bishop?" Mrs. Ferrars squeaked.
"Yes, through
Darcy. I told you a religious education was a suitable one for
a gentleman. If I work hard and I am fortunate, Elinor and I
shall live very comfortably."
"And…and
perhaps, eventually, a stall in Westminster?" said his sister
excitably.
"Perhaps, if
that be God's will."
It was obvious that
Mrs. Ferrars realized that she had been out-maneuvered-that Edward
had foreseen all possible outcomes of this interview and had
prepared accordingly. Mrs. Ferrars had but one card to play,
and she did so, knowing that she had already lost.
"If you marry
Miss Dashwood, I will wash my hands of you. I will recall Robert
from Mr. Pratt's and make him my heir. Heed my words."
"I assume you
do not wish an invitation to the wedding, then," Edward
said.
"Edward, it
will be irrevocable. This is your last warning." Mrs. Ferrars
came as close to pleading as she could.
Edward nodded coldly.
"I have taken your declaration into account, madam. If you
have nothing else to say, I will take my leave of you."
To his sister, he was warmer. "I shall not place you in
an uncomfortable situation and send an invitation, Fanny. You
will not have to choose between us. But I shall write once Elinor
and I are settled."
Fanny's eyes filled.
"Thank you, Edward."
Edward released
his sister's hands with a smile, nodded, and left the house without
so much as a backward glance.
The End
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