Willoughby's Return_ A Tale of Almost Irresistible Temptation - Jane Odiwe [119]
“I have trespassed upon your kindness long enough, Eliza,” he said, sitting down and helping himself to a hearty bowl of porridge. “I cannot thank you enough for your pains, but it is high time my wife and I left you to yourselves. Now Lizzy is coming along so well I would hate to be the very reason she has a relapse.”
“Your home is my home, William, you know that,” Eliza answered. “It has been a pleasure to have you here. You know full well I could never have nursed Lizzy on my own, and I am certain that if you had not been here, I might have been telling a different story now. And, Mrs Brandon, I have so long wished to make your acquaintance; it has been a delight to have you here, too. I only wish I could have made your stay more comfortable. It has been an enormous honour for me to have the company of William's beloved wife; I hope you do not mind when I say that although I never had a sister, I now feel as if I had gained one!”
Marianne felt very humbled at this little speech. Indeed, every day she had been in the cottage had taught her something more about true humility and humble modesty. Eliza was entirely selfless, which made Marianne only remember her own pride and shameful attitudes towards the Williamses with regret and sorrow.
“Well, I have been thinking,” said Colonel Brandon, “that if you approve, Marianne, we shall repair to the Three Cups Inn in Lyme for a few days before making the journey home to Delaford. If I am to convalesce, I have a fancy to do it whilst watching the sea through my window.”
“I should like it very much if you are sure you are strong enough to make the journey,” answered Marianne, rather nervous at the prospect of being alone with her husband at last. But she had known this time would come, she reminded herself, and was prepared for whatever lay ahead. And besides all this, she had another problem pressing on her mind. Having written to Margaret twice and having received no reply on either occasion, she was starting to worry. Marianne could not think what to do; she did not want to alarm her mother, Elinor, or William, who was looking so much better. Perhaps she should write to Mrs Jennings. After all, Margaret was young and forgetful. It had most likely slipped her mind to reply and she would not even consider that Marianne might be worried. Even so, her mind was disturbed by Margaret's lack of correspondence. There had not even been a single enquiry asking after William.
The Brandons left shortly after breakfast for the short journey down into Lyme. The town wore a cheerier prospect this morning with a pale sun glittering on the water and the bustle of townsfolk about their business. As soon as they had secured a room, the Colonel expressed a desire to walk. Marianne tried to protest against such a scheme, saying that he should lie down and rest, but Brandon would not hear of it. He could think of no exercise to do him better on such a fine March day with a fresh breeze to blow away the cobwebs than to enjoy a walk on the Cobb. They set off down Broad Street and turned onto the Walk, neither of them saying very much. Marianne was feeling very tired, the last few days had taken their toll. But even putting aside the effort it had taken of looking after her husband day and night, she admitted to herself that she was not feeling quite well.
At last they turned onto the Cobb and, exclaiming at its treacherous height, encountered fresh, salty winds, which buffeted them along, so that they were forced into a trot. They laughed into the wind and were caught by salt spray dashing over the high walls; it was a heady mixture of elation and fear. Marianne felt she might be blown over the edge at any moment and clung onto her hat and William's arm for dear life. They were nearing the end, where on both forks of the harbour wall,