Read Online Expectations of Happiness by Rebecca Ann Collins - Free Book Online

of her life, had faced such a circumstance. There had been other occasions when Marianne’s words had wounded her feelings, but that had been many years ago, when she’d had the excuse of temporary derangement following Willoughby’s cruel conduct. Then, they had all treated Marianne with indulgence and tender concern, excusing any and every faux pas as a consequence of her misery. But surely, Elinor thought, there was nothing similar now that would mitigate such an unfeeling remark.
    Seeing Elinor’s discomposure, Marianne rose too and grasped her hand, as if she wished to apologise, but even as she did so, she smiled and seemed not to realise how deeply her remark had hurt her sister. She attempted to make light of it, claiming she had spoken in jest, but clearly Elinor was not comforted and left soon afterward.
    Walking home in a light drizzle that added to her discomfort, she could not help the tears that flooded her eyes. Marianne may have forgotten, but Elinor could not. The shabby episode of Lucy and Robert’s behaviour, in which they had deliberately deceived both Edward and herself while courting the favour of Mrs Ferrars by assiduous flattery, had left her feeling a degree of generic shame for those members of her sex for whom self-interest was the sole motivator. That Edward’s exemplary character counted for less with his mother than the hypocrisy of his selfish brother and his duplicitous wife had left her feeling sore. But worse now to learn that all that meant nothing to Marianne, with whom she had shared her feelings at the time. It was, for Elinor, an unconscionable betrayal by a sister she loved.
    When she reached the parsonage, she was further disconcerted to find Edward waiting for her in the sitting room. She had hoped to have some time alone to regain her composure, but it was not to be. She hurried in, greeting him quickly, putting down her things in the hall, and proceeded directly upstairs to change out of her damp shoes and coat and compose herself, before asking for afternoon tea to be served. Returning to the sitting room, she found her husband regarding her with some concern.
    â€œElinor dearest, you look so worried, I can see you are troubled about something. What is it, my dear? Is Marianne unwell?” he asked with the kind of warm sympathy that she valued so much, yet she was determined that he would not be told of the true cause of her distress. Her sister’s remarks would hurt him almost as much as they had wounded her. Instead, she informed him that Marianne was expecting visitors at Delaford and would not be able to accompany them on their visit to Weymouth.
    â€œIs that all?” he said, smiling, as the tea tray was brought in and placed upon the table. “Well, of course I am sorry your sister cannot join us, and I know that is disappointing, but it is unlikely to spoil our enjoyment. We should have plenty to occupy our time. I met Dr King in the village this morning, and he has told me of two more places that are worth visiting. I understand Milton Abbey is not to be missed; it was a famous Benedictine monastery until the dissolution under Henry the Eighth, he says, and he also recommends the walk along the cliffs from Weymouth to the village of Osmington. They took the walk last year, and he claims it affords some remarkable views of the coast.” Clearly Edward believed that the delights of Weymouth would soon compensate for Marianne’s absence.
    As Elinor busied herself pouring out tea, he continued with more information about Weymouth and its environs gleaned from Dr King. Edward had not suspected that her distress was due to anything more serious than disappointment with Marianne’s inability to join their party; he had not even asked who her visitors were, making it easier for Elinor to avoid mentioning Robert Ferrars and his wife, Lucy—a couple for whom she had neither affection nor respect.
    Perhaps, she thought, Edward need