Impulsive Sweetness

How Colonel Brandon wooed Marianne.

Song and story dedicated to Matthew. "Tell me I'm a fool, tell me that you love me for the fool I am, and comfort me like only you can." --- Jaci Velasquez

Whenever tears well in my eyes
Because the sun just refuses to shine
You, yes you, my friend
You will be there
Whenever life's bittersweet quirks
Become too much to bear
I need only look in my heart
And you will be there

You may be a thousand miles away
You may not know my secret sorrows
But you're in my heart
And my heart is always there
So you, though you might not know it
You will be there

Whenever the sun rises
In a sky of pink and blue
You, yes you, my friend
You will be there
Whenever joy overcomes me
And all the world seems right
If I close my eyes and concentrate
I can almost see you beside me

You may be a thousand miles away
You may not know my secret joys
But you're in my heart
And my heart is always there
So you, though you might not know it
You will be there

And I will always love you
Even if you never love me
Because as long as I love you
You will be there

You may be a thousand miles away
You may not know my secret feelings
But you're in my heart
And my heart is always there
So you, though you might not know it
You will be there

"But, Mamma, I'll only walk to the hill-"

"I don't care, Marianne. You're still recovering. You will not be walking anywhere until the weather is more promising."

"Don't you see? I want to go out while the mist is over the lawn...it is so magical."

Mrs. Dashwood just shook her head at her daughter's folly. Though she remained as dreamy as ever, she had lost with youth that imagination that so few people retain into old age.

Marianne sighed. No one seems to understand why I want to walk about with the mist...if only Colonel Brandon were here! He knows why... she smiled at the thought of Brandon's knowing glances that he used especially with her to indicate that he understood her perfectly.

Almost as if some clever fairy had read her thoughts and conveyed them speedily to his friends until it reached Brandon himself, there was a knock at the door and it was he. Before he had a chance to explain himself, Marianne burst out with,

"Oh, Colonel, I was just wishing you would come."

"Were you?" he replied with a strange little smile.

"Yes, for I want to walk out to the woods today while the mist is still on the ground and Mamma will not let me!"

"And for good reason," Brandon pointed out.

"Oh, I can't bear it when you are so sensible!" Marianne exclaimed, pouting. "I know that you love solitary rambles in gloomy weather as much as I do."

"Perhaps so, but it would be wise to suppress that love when one has been ill." He was grinning now.

"Colonel, you are teasing me now, and it's terrible of you. I am quite serious. I shall absolutely despair if I cannot savor the delights of such a melancholy morning out of doors."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm afraid it cannot be helped. In the meantime, I hope you will find my company melancholy enough for you."

Marianne giggled. "Not if you will persist in trying to make me laugh."

Brandon eyed her meaningfully. "That will always be my object, Miss Dashwood."

His sudden seriousness of manner was puzzling to her. But before she had time to consider it, he had seated himself next to her on the sofa and was attempting to engage her in conversation.

"Have you learnt that new concerto I gave you last week?"

"Not yet, it is quite stubborn. Some of the notes refuse to come out."

"Some of her fingers refuse to play them, she means," Margaret corrected from the other end of the room.

"Really, Miss Margaret, I am sure you do your sister and injustice."

"No indeed, for I have seen her do it. She always fumbles at one of the passages, and it is not difficult enough for excuses. She simply makes the same clumsy mistake over and over."

"That will be enough, Margaret," said Marianne firmly.

"Lovely weather we're having," the former replied sarcastically. In a moment she had vanished from the room.

"Show me where you have had trouble," Brandon suggested gently.

Marianne put her crossness aside and led him to the pianoforte. She paged through the music until she found what she was looking for. "Here, this bit- where it goes from the trill to the next page- for some reason it never sounds quite right."

"Can you play it for me?"

"Of course-" she slid onto the bench and managed to struggle tolerably through the first few measures of that section, but when she reached the indicated measure she stopped, her fingers searching aimlessly for the notes.

"I always had some trouble with that bit myself."

"You've played it?" She was evidently surprised, having forgotten Mrs. Jennings' sly comment about Brandon's musical abilities.

"Many times," he said, trying to retain some air of humbleness.

"Could you show me how to get through this passage, then?"

"Well, I...I haven't played in such a long time, I just don't know if I could..." he paused, and looked into her eyes for a moment. Then he smiled, as he had done some time ago when she asked him if he would be gone long on his secret errand. "I suppose I might try."

"Oh, thank you," Marianne said gratefully, hastily vacating the bench. Brandon was a trifle disappointed that she did so. But he took his seat and began racing through the first few pages, his fingers flying over the keys and bringing a sort of grandness of sound out the of little instrument that Marianne has never expected from it.

"I never knew you played so well," she said at last, in awe.

Brandon reddened and smiled at the same time, but Marianne could not see that his heart gave a little leap at her praise. Inspired, he charged confidently on to the difficult part, but just as he reached it he chanced to throw a little glance in Marianne's direction, and he saw her admiring smile. His heart stopped, and he froze. He was unable to move, unable to speak, unable to think about anything but her. His mouth fell open slightly, as it was prone to do, especially in her presence, and he gradually became aware that he was staring at her.

"Forgive me," he blurted out at last. "I have forgotten...I will work on it for you this week."

Marianne nodded slowly, her romantic sensibilities coming into play. There could not be more than one way to explain his expression a moment before. Could it be? "That's quite all right, Colonel- it is very difficult." Was he...did he...

"The sun is coming out," he said at last. "Perhaps I can convince your mother-"

"Please do." Yes, it was all coming clear now. How could she have been so blind? How could she have missed it before? Of course...

It was the work of a moment. They were soon walking away from the house, along the path through the gardens to the river.

Marianne felt the necessity of saying something, but could think of nothing but this new revelation. That the colonel should be in love with her- a little while ago it would have seemed so strange. Now it was natural, almost...welcome. She shivered.

"Are you well, Miss Marianne?"

"Yes, thank you." The only thing that was uncertain now was the state of her own feelings. It was too ridiculous! That she should love such a man! No, no. She did not. She thought very highly of him, certainly. She...greatly...esteemed him...she could not help an inward laugh at her own unconscious echoing of Elinor's phrases pertaining to Edward. Good heavens! I like him. I LIKE him! Marianne held back a bitter smile.

"Pray-" the colonel began. He paused. It was painfully evident that he really had nothing to say. "How are your sister and Mr. Ferrars?" he continued at last.

"They come along quite well. We have been expecting him to call all morning. He warned us he might be late-"

"I believe I hear a horse now." And indeed, his ears, sharpened by his years in the King's service, did not deceive him. In a moment it became evident that Edward had indeed arrived.

"The sunshine had impeccable timing in coming when it did. It is best that we leave them alone."

"No doubt."

There was a pause.

"Colonel, I have found one of Shakespeare's sonnets that had escaped my notice before- I think you will like it. Might you read it to me when you come tomorrow?"

His heart gave a pitter-patter, though such requests were, by this time, quite common. "I will try as best I can, but I have an important engagement. I am to tell Miss Margaret a tale about a tiger that I encountered in India."

Marianne's eyes lit up with childish excitement. "A tiger! I shall think you very ungentleman-like if you refuse me the honor of hearing your tale as well. I can hardly wait."

Brandon's tongue flicked out in a vain effort to wet his lips. Good God, man, control yourself! "I could hardly prevent your from joining us, if you wish. Which sonnet is it you wish me to read?"

"I think it is twenty-two."

"My glass shall not persuade me I am old, so long as youth and thou are of one date; but when in thee time's furrows I behold, then look I death my days should expiate. For all that beauty that doth cover thee, is but the seemly raiment of my heart, which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me; how can I then be elder than thou art? O therefore, love, be of thyself so wary, as I not for myself but for thee will; bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary, as a tender nurse her babe from faring ill. Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain, thou gav'st me thine, not to give back again. " he said in a half-whisper, his eyes fixed on some faraway object.

Marianne was quite speechless. "You have it memorized! Oh, Colonel, I never would have thought-"

"It is one of the few that I have taken the trouble to put to heart. I am afraid I have shamefully neglected poetry of late." He had completely forgotten himself, once he had begun speaking the first line. How he had tormented himself with those verses, thinking that Marianne would live a miserable life with such a cad as Willoughby, and that she would never be his own!

"Will you read it to me all the same?" she asked shyly, after a moment's pause. "I should like to hear it again..."

"I shall read it to you, or recite it for you, or whatever you wish, as often as you like, Marianne."

She caught her breath. There it was again! Good lord, he loved her...she attempted to gather her thoughts sufficiently to say something coherent in reply. "Thank you" hardly seemed enough, but it was all she could muster. It did not escape her that he had called her by her Christian name, only.

The colonel bowed.

At this moment Marianne realized that the sun had retreated behind a cloud some time ago, and that the fog had settled itself in its usual place. "Oh! Look!" she cried. "The mist has come back!"

"Yes, I know," Brandon replied with a curious smile.

Marianne looked at him for a moment, then exclaimed, "you sly thing! You planned it all along, didn't you! But how did you know?"

"My dear madam, I hope I learned a few things about the weather during my years of service. Of course, I did spend most of my time in the East Indies, but I was here for long enough, and heard enough maneuvers planned, to learn that in the fall, the late morning fog does not stay away long, when it sets in early."

"You are a tease, for there is no reason why you could not have told me as much before."

"And risk your mother hearing my dastardly scheme?" he replied in mock horror. "Never!"

"Mightn't you," she inquired, almost unconsciously linking her arm with his, "tell us the story of the tiger today?"

Brandon thought for a moment. He had business to take care of a Delaford, but would be really be able to work with the memory of Marianne's sweet voice and beautiful face haunting him? Good heavens! No, he would stay today for as long as she wished. "I suppose I might."

"Oh, Margaret will be delighted!"

"And you?"

She smiled. "I look upon it with great anticipation."

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