“I agree with Mary and your father,” said Mrs. Gardiner, climbing off the bed. “He cares for you.” She bent and kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. “It will be a good match. I believe that confused look on your face and that fluttering of your heart…” She smiled at the surprise on Elizabeth’s face. “I felt it myself many years ago,” she explained. “It is the beginnings of love. Be brave, my dear Lizzy. Do not let those feelings frighten you, for they can lead to a very happy life for you as they have for me.”
[from Her Father’s Choice]
Published to YouTube by Kane Brown on May 14, 2017.
One evening, a while back now, as I was pushing a lawnmower around my backyard, the song in the video above came on the radio station I was listening too as I mowed, and I knew as I listened to the lyrics that this was the song for Mary’s story. She was going to need a hero who would maybe appear to be a player but who wouldn’t be. He would be someone she would have to learn to trust. I hadn’t yet conceptualized Mr. Gabreil Durward as he appears in the story, but that moment with the lawnmower and this song was the beginning of that process.
There is an element of trust that accompanies accepting love from someone and giving it in return. One individual places their trust in another that either the love will not be taken away and so it is safe to accept it, or they place their trust in the fact that the person to whom they are offering their love will not disrespect it, crush it, misuse it, or reject it. In the excerpt above the video, Elizabeth is struggling with accepting that Darcy cares for her and that she cares for him.
In the excerpt below the writing news section of this post, Mary Crawford is just at the beginning of possibly trusting a gentleman, Mr. Gabriel Durward, with her heart. In this portion of the story that I am sharing today, we see part of why Mary is so reluctant to trust freely, and we hear Mr. Durward tell her for a second time that he will not let her take on water, which is his way of saying he’ll never hurt her and his way of asking for her trust.
As you read, I hope you can see how the what if questions in the lyrics of today’s song apply to Mary and Gabe.
I only have a little bit of writing news this week.
I have made a good amount of progress on Mary’s story and am continuing to post two chapters per week on Patreon. I am hoping to reach the end of the story this week (fingers crossed), since, on Friday, I put the full evil plan, which will put Mary’s trust to the test and provide our dark moment before the happy ending, into action. 🙂
I finished writing my third short story. This one is called Frosted Windowpanes and is an original story with a Persuasion sort of plot to it.
After some planning and thinking, I have come to the conclusion that the story to follow Delighting Mrs. Bennet will be called Loving Lydia because it is through loving Lydia that Darcy’s objectives (which I cannot fully share at this time although one of them is to help Lydia improve) will be met. Thank you all for leaving your comments last week as those did help me work through this in my mind. 🙂
And now for…
AN EXCERPT FROM Mary: To Protect Her Heart:
“To get to what I wished to discuss with you. I am a man of business, and I like to know in advance to whom I should speak regarding agreements. I know that you and Miss Crawford lived with your uncle, but you neither of you do any longer. Therefore, should the admiration I have for your sister flourish into something that seems to be lasting, should I call on you or the admiral — or Dr. Grant because she is residing with him.”
Mary’s eyes grew wide. She had only just met Mr. Durward, and he was thinking of marriage? She had not even had time to make her desires known to him. She smiled. He was choosing her without persuasion of any sort. It was a novel feeling.
Henry grimaced. “She was handed over to me by the Admiral when we left him.”
“It was an ugly scene?” Gabe inquired.
“Nothing was ever pleasant with the admiral,” Mary answered.
Henry shook his head. “What he said was reprehensible. Even in my former iteration, I knew it to be.”
Mary lifted her chin and pushed down the hurt that rose as she remembered her uncle’s words. “He had no use for housing a lady who could not possibly repay him in any satisfactory fashion.”
“He said that?” Margaret cried. “You never told me that.”
“I could not,” Mary answered softly. It hurt her to be so easily discarded then, and the pain of such a thing had not faded in the time she had been away from him. It should not have surprised her that he cared so little for her since he was so unfeeling toward his own wife, but it did.
Gabe wore the same expression as the one Mary had seen him wear when addressing Lady St. James. He was offended. Her heart thrilled a small amount as she realized that, presently, he was not offended on his own account but on her behalf. Perhaps. Just perhaps, she had found a gentleman whom she could trust with her heart.
“I will not say what I think of such a man while in polite company.” Gabe shook his head and blew out a breath as if struggling to contain his displeasure. Then, he smiled a small, kind smile at Mary and said, “I am very sorry you had to endure that. No lady should be so treated.”
Mary ducked her head as she thanked him. If she kept looking at his serious, concerned-filled dark eyes, she would not be able to keep her tears where they belonged. Had she ever felt so precious? She was certain she never had. She could easily lose her heart to Mr. Durward, but she mustn’t. Not yet. Not until she knew that she could trust him completely. She would not willingly present her heart to any gentleman, no matter how kind and charming he appeared, and allow it to be crushed.
“Then if or when the time should come, I will call on you,” Gabe said to Henry.
“I would appreciate that,” Henry replied. “However, I am certain Dr. Grant’s permission could be sought in my stead. He would not let any harm come to my sister. Of that, I am certain.” Henry shifted positions, becoming even more comfortably positioned. “Now, tell me about you. I have heard you have only lived in England for a few years.”
Gabe nodded. “I was born in India and lived there my entire life until I set foot on that first company ship. Then, my world expanded, and I was given the opportunity to see many places, including London.”
“And of all the places you saw, you chose to live here?” Henry asked. “I would think that there would be many more interesting places in the world in which to take up residence in than London.”
Gabe shook his head. “I took one look at her on that first foggy, dreary day and knew I would return. I could have chosen another colony in which to set up my business, but no other port spoke to me as this one did.” He shrugged. “I do not know why exactly. Perhaps it was because the company is here, and so I wished to position myself as one of its rivals set to take up what I believe it is destined to lose at some point in the none too distant future. Perhaps it was something else – the history, the architecture, the vibrancy, or the idea that the heart of the empire beats from here. It could have been a dozen reasons, I suppose. I have not paused to ferret them out. I only know that by the end of the short time that I was here, I knew I would come back. This was where I was meant to be.”
“Do you always make such quick decisions?” Margaret asked.
Gabe shook his head. “Not always, but I do not attempt to take too long in deliberations either. If one is not quick to decide things, one might lose out on a very profitable venture or place his money where it cannot possibly make him a return.” He chuckled. “I sound like a rather boring old fellow. Tom tells me I need to find something other than business upon which to think. I have always thought he was wrong, but I not so certain any longer.”
“Have you been to the theatre?” Henry asked.
“No, I have not been. Tom has managed to get me to attend various soirees, and I do enjoy touring the museum and the occasional ride through a park, but I must admit I have not attended a play – though I have read a great number of them.”
“Then, I will secure an invitation for you and Mary to join myself and some friends one night.”
Mary shook her head. He could not mean she was to attend a play with Miss Linton.
“Miss Linton is a forgiving sort of lady,” Henry assured her before she had even spoken. “Mrs. Kendrick, Mrs. Barrett, and Mr. Linton might be less so, but is it not right that you prove yourself changed to them?”
Sit in a box for the entirety of a play with people toward whom she had behaved so dreadfully? The thought was perhaps the most terrifying one she had ever had to ponder. Mr. Edwards had been so cutting in his remarks to her at that ball. She was not entirely certain she was up to the playing such a role.
“I would be delighted to join you if Miss Crawford will join me.”
Mary was certain that Mr. Durward could see the fear in her eyes when she looked at him in surprise.
“Please,” he said softly. “I shall not let you take on water, Miss Crawford.”
She sucked in a breath and expelled it. How could she do anything but grant him his wish when he was so gallantly offering his protection and looking at her with that intense, caring expression. “Very well. I shall do my penance.”
~*~*~
KOBO AMAZON NOOK IBOOKS MAILING LIST PATREON SOCIETY6
OK… you win. I am beginning to ease up on my dislike of Mary Crawford. But please don’t let me down by getting my hopes up for her and then dashing them by letting her remain that calloused b-witch. You made me like Henry… so I look forward to seeing a reformed Mary. This was a lovely excerpt. I was really drawn in. I look forward to the other projects that you mentioned. Thank you for all your hard work.
Speaking of work, I have often heard that the creative side of the brain works best while you are distracted with manual labor or other projects. So, while you were mowing the lawn, you came up with new possibilities. How marvelous.
That fact about the creative side working when doing manual labor or routine things seems to be very true for me. I often feel a need to go for a walk or do some laundry or something physical when I come to a sticking point. Our brains are interesting things, aren’t they?
I have never liked Mary myself — until now. I’m actually sympathizing with her and hoping for her to find happiness. 🙂