Willoughby's Return_ A Tale of Almost Irresistible Temptation - Jane Odiwe [55]
“No, I have not,” Marianne quickly lied.
“I expect we will see them, by and bye,” chuckled Sir Edgar.
“I should not count on it, if I were you,” Mrs Jennings smirked, “I do not think our pretty pair will be so interested in a village play as the rest of us.”
Marianne bit her tongue, though she would have liked to tell Mrs Jennings that she was being a little too easy with her imagination. It was fairly certain that Margaret and Henry liked one another, but she alone knew what sort of damage idle gossip could do. She did not want Margaret to be subject to the sort of speculation that she herself had been all those years ago when Willoughby had courted her. Perhaps she ought to warn her sister. Had she been wrong to encourage Margaret to spend time unchaperoned with Mr Lawrence? What would Elinor do if she were here?
Mrs Dashwood, who was listening to this exchange, expressed her concern to Marianne in a low voice as Mrs Jennings continued to spout forth on the subject of courting lovers. “Will you go and look for her, Marianne? I think I have been unwise to let her out of my sight for so long.”
Marianne hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to have a conversation with Mr Willoughby.
“Please hurry, Marianne,” her mother entreated, “I will feel much better if she is here with us. I have given her too much of a free rein, I think.”
Smiling reassuringly at her mother, but with a sinking heart, Mrs Brandon sallied forth, determining to find levels of courage she felt she did not possess. Heading in the direction where she recalled seeing Margaret last, Marianne did not know whether to feel relief or alarm when it was clear that her sister was not in the immediate vicinity. Easing her way through the rapt audience, who were cheering and booing by turns at a figure with a painted red face, she could see nothing of Margaret's blue bonnet or Henry's tall black hat. Working back toward Mrs Dashwood, Marianne realised it was a fruitless task; they could be anywhere, the assembled throng was larger than ever. Reluctant to return without her sister, she decided to circumnavigate the outer boundary of spectators, tiptoeing as she went, looking high over their heads. And then she saw them. Margaret and Henry were together and alone, she observed with some relief. However, this feeling soon gave way to one of apprehension. The pair appeared to be in a hurry, fairly running along away from the crowds across the green in the opposite direction. Marianne made up her mind to follow them, or at least be certain of where they were going. They moved with such urgent intent it was clear they had some purpose. She was almost running to keep them in view, but stopped suddenly with a sense of defeat, when she saw exactly where they were headed. Sighing with frustration, she saw Mr Lawrence hand Margaret into his father's phaeton, before seating himself beside her on the seat. He took up the reins and with a crack of the whip, she saw the carriage lurch into motion and set off at speed.
What would her mother say, and even worse, what would Mrs Jennings have to say on the matter? Marianne shook her head and emitted a long sigh.
“Let them be, Mrs Brandon, I beg you.”
Marianne had no need to turn in order to identify the voice that nonetheless had her reeling round with a look of astonishment. “I beg your pardon, Mr Willoughby.” It was a rebuke, not an apology.
He bowed. “Please do not be severe upon them. They are young and Henry is a good fellow.”
Marianne lifted her chin and found her strength. “I do not know how or why this should concern you, Mr Willoughby. I will decide what is to be done and I should be very glad if you would now excuse me.”
Turning abruptly from him, she started to walk away, but an arresting hand on her arm prevented her progress.
“Wait, please,