JULY

Wednesday 12 July

Maria and Crawford’s situation grows daily worse. They are now so disenchanted with each other that they fairly hate each other and a voluntary separation looks set to take place any day. My aunt wishes my father to receive her here, but he will not hear of it.

‘This is all your doing,’ said my aunt to Fanny, as I entered the drawing-room this afternoon. ‘If you had married Mr. Crawford when he asked you, then none of this would have happened.’

I rescued Fanny from my aunt’s spite by suggesting a walk in the garden, where we continued our discussion of Thomson, and from thence, sparked by our joy of the soft summer air, Fanny progressed to Cowper, saying:

God made the country, and man made the town.

‘You were not happy in Portsmouth?’ I said.

‘No. It grieves me to say it, but I was not. I missed Mansfield, not just the countryside, but the people. I had thought, before I went, that I would feel at home there, with my family, but their ways are so different to ours — in truth, I was often horrified. My father...’

‘You may say anything to me, Fanny. If you want to ease your heart, I am at your disposal.’

‘It seems wrong to speak disrespectfully of my parents.’

‘There is no disrespect in turning to a friend for comfort and guidance,’ I said.

‘You do me good, Edmund. You always do me good.’

‘Except...’ I thought of the time I had tried to persuade her to marry Henry Crawford. I had been blinded by my own concerns. I had not been a friend to her there. But I put such thoughts aside and continued, ‘Your family were not what you were expecting them to be?’

‘No. My father cursed a great deal, and my mother seemed content to proceed without any order. I confess, I learnt the lesson that I believe Sir Thomas had been endeavoring to teach me, that wealth and position bring with them many advantages, and that poverty brings with it many hardships that cannot be overlooked.’

‘And yet you did not succumb to the lure of riches that was being held out to you.’

‘No. I would rather live in an attic at Mansfield Park than in a manor house where I did not love.’

‘I too. One evening spent walking by the river with you, talking of things that matter, is of far more value to me than a year in London, talking of nothing and attending the most glittering parties.’

The light began to fade and we went indoors, to continue our conversation in the library, away from Aunt Norris.


Wednesday 19 July

Tom went out riding for the first time since his fall, and though he was wary to begin with he soon regained his confidence and came home looking as well as he did before his illness.


Thursday 27 July

Our evening walks have become a settled thing, and not a day goes by without Fanny and I strolling through the grounds. As we walked by the river this evening I stopped to survey the water, whose surface was sparkling in the sunlight. I thought that it was like Mary, dazzling on the surface, but with mud beneath. Further on, there was no sparkle, but the water was clear and deep, and I thought of Fanny, whose goodness ran down to the depths of her being. I turned to face her and thought how lucky I was to have her, for she had safeguarded my faith in women when Mary would have shattered it.

As long as I have Fanny, I will always know that goodness exists, because I will have it right in front of me.

AUGUST

Tuesday 1 August

My father is so pleased with Julia and Yates, who improve daily, that he has decided to acknowledge them with a ball in their honor. The invitations have gone out and my father’s recognition of their marriage will ensure they are accepted in society.


Wednesday 2 August

I asked Tom if he wanted to go into town with me this morning but he said he was too busy seeing to the improvements on the home farm. He has changed since his illness. He has recovered his health and spirits but he has had a shock, and says he does not want to spend all his life racing and drinking.

‘And that is what it almost was, Edmund. all my life,’ he said to me. Instead, he has started to take an interest in his inheritance, as well as an interest in pleasure. I left him setting out to look over the home farm and went into town alone, where I ordered a string of pearls for Fanny.


Thursday 3 August

I asked Fanny if I might secure her as my partner for the first two dances of Julia’s ball and she agreed. As I did so, I remembered the ball at which I danced the first two dances with Mary, but it seemed almost as though it had happened to another person and not to me. To my surprise, it no longer hurts me, or angers me, or even interests me to think of Mary. She seems of no consequence at all.


Thursday 10 August

As soon as I had dressed for the ball I took the pearls to Fanny’s sitting-room, where I found her. She was watering her geraniums. She was already dressed for the ball and I felt as though I was seeing her, for the first time, as a desirable young woman. Her dress was new and its whiteness set off the soft gold of her arms and face. Her hair was piled on top of her head, showing the gracefulness of her neck, and I could not understand why it had taken me so long to see the truth: I was in love with Fanny. It was Fanny who shared my thoughts and feelings; Fanny who was like me; Fanny who was part of me.

She turned round and saw me.

‘I have brought you something,’ I said. I noticed she was wearing my gold chain round her neck, and William’s amber cross. ‘Would you wear these for me tonight instead?’

She smiled her acquiescence and, unfastening her chain, she turned round so that I could put the pearls round her neck. As she bent forward I was suddenly nervous. I fastened the necklace, telling myself that I had performed the same office for her many times before, but this time was different, for as I closed the clasp I felt my hand tremble. She straightened her head and looked at the pearls in the mirror, thanking me for them with her sweetest smile, then I gave her my arm and led her downstairs. all through dinner, I had eyes only for Fanny, and even when the guests began to arrive I could not take my eyes away. She greeted them all with a mixture of sweetness and intelligence, no longer tongue-tied in company, but setting everyone at their ease by talking to them of their own concerns and replying with the same ease to their questions about her own. As I watched her, I found myself wondering how it had happened, how long she had been like this. Had she suddenly blossomed? Or had I simply not noticed the moment at which she had turned from a hesitant girl into an assured woman.

The musicians began to play, and Julia and Yates took their places, ready to open the dancing. I saw my father watching them approvingly, whilst Mama looked on and smiled. I claimed Fanny’s hand with pleasure and led her on to the floor. I could not take my eyes from her.

‘You are quiet tonight,’ she said to me, as the steps of the dance brought us together. I roused myself.

‘I am not doing my duty. I am a poor partner.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘You are the perfect partner.’

And as she smiled, I knew. Fanny loved me! I returned her smile, and there were no two happier people in the room.

The first two dances came to an end, but I could not go to Fanny as I wanted, for I was committed to dancing with Julia. I could not pay attention to my sister, however, for I could not take my eyes from Fanny.

Julia followed my longing gaze and gave an arch smile.

‘Fanny is looking well tonight,’ she said.

‘Yes, she is,’ I said, for the candlelight was behind her, giving her a radiance that made her shine.

‘It was an evil day for us when Crawford ran off with Maria, but it was a good day for Fanny. It will not be long before she attracts another offer of marriage, and one from a man of far more worth.’

‘I hope so,’ was all I could manage.

After Julia, I was engaged to dance with several other young ladies, but just before supper I was free to reclaim Fanny.

‘You are tired,’ I said.

‘Too tired for dancing, but not otherwise fatigued,’ she returned.

‘Then will you take a walk with me along the terrace?’ She agreed readily, and we went outside.

‘Fanny...’

‘Yes, Edmund?’

‘Fanny, I have been a fool,’ I said ruefully. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’

‘There is nothing to forgive.’

‘Then will you do me the honor, the very great honor of accepting my hand in marriage?’

Her smile lit the night.

‘Yes, Edmund, I will.’

‘How long have you loved me?’ I could not resist asking her, as we walked on together.

‘I hardly know, but certainly before the Crawfords moved into the neighborhood,’ she said.

‘So long ago? I knew you worshipped me as a child, but I never, until this evening, knew that your feelings had turned to love.’

‘I did not notice the change myself, it was so gradual. But when the Crawfords came to Mansfield Park I came to know myself, for I envied Mary Crawford your attentions. I am ashamed to say it, but it was so. I could not bear to see you throw all your love away on someone who was not worthy of you. I tried to tell myself that, if she had been everything that was wise and good, I would not have minded, that I would have been happy for you, but I knew it was not so. I would have envied anyone who had your love.’

I thought of the events of the past year and knew how painful they must have been for her, and how lucky I was that, through them all, she had loved me. She had seen me with all my faults and failings and her feelings were unchanged. I did not need to make myself someone I was not in order to please Fanny; she loved me as I was. I had done with dazzle and sparkle, and had fallen in love with goodness, intelligence, beauty and true worth.