Unfairly Caught

Preface

                This story is a variation to Mansfield Park and changes the events of Chapter 32 in the original novel and then replaces what happens afterwards. Austen’s own words are used in situations where I felt they would be appropriate, with some changes or paraphrasing. There are a few phrases from Austen’s other works also included. I was not the original creator of Mansfield Park or its characters, and I give all the credit of genius to the original author.

                Additional credit goes to the author (whose name I cannot locate) of A Calendar for Mansfield Park (http://mars.gmu.edu/bitstream/handle/1920/999/mp.calendar.html). This was an invaluable resource. Thank you for all the time and effort you put into the creation of the calendar.

“Have you any reason, child, to think ill of Mr. Crawford’s temper?”(Sir Thomas)

“No, sir.”

She longed to add, “But of his principles I have”

Jan 5 – Thursday        

   Fanny stood at the top of the staircase and tried to force her limbs to move towards her unavoidable fate. It was all settled; her point had not been carried and she was to descend inescapably towards her future. She had lingered at breakfast, waited for her aunt and uncle to join her, had hoped the courtesy which had been extended to Maria would be given to her as well; it had not been. They only thought it prodigious good luck that Mr. Crawford had noticed her at all.    Her aunt Bertram had remarked, “We are a handsome family!” and then promised her a puppy the next time a litter was born. Fanny had been too oppressed to reply.

   When she retreated to the East Room, a fire was burning. It had been lit yesterday; she had understood immediately that it was somehow a reward for agreeing to accept him. The comfort was cold. She paced the room nervously, knowing that she must go down and meet Mr. Crawford again. She suspected her uncle had only released her from the conference with him the day before on account of her dreadful appearance. Fanny must go down, she must accept his proposal, and she must be married. There was no longer any choice in her mind and as a sacrificial lamb led to slaughter she descended, imagining for a moment that the red sash upon her white dress dripped with the outpouring of her broken heart.

   Mr. Crawford was waiting for her in Sir Thomas’s study, secluded from the rest of the family. He looked overjoyed to see her; she hoped her face did not betray the emotion she

felt. She ought not have worried; Mr. Crawford would see what he wanted to see. He was too blinded by his own happiness and vanity to notice anything but her normal modest manner.

   “Your uncle asked me to come this morning that you might give me your answer,” he said cheerfully. Fanny resented his easy manners. Had he not listened to her the day before? Had he not read the note she had written to his sister? She was angry that he had gone to her uncle after her refusal, but then, with Sir Thomas’s warning still on her mind, she thought perhaps it was for the best.

   “Yes,” she trembled. The word was easy to speak but she knew she must accept him and that “yes” felt heavy on her tongue. She said softly, “I do accept your offer.”

He was clearly delighted, though Fanny mused bitterly that it might have been even more delightful for him if he had been made to strive for his victory. It was incomprehensible to her.

   “Your uncle assured me of the same yesterday, he gave credit to your modesty in your first refusal. I was not mistaken however, I knew you must love me, even if you had not known it yourself at the moment.”

   Fanny found herself livid, to have emotions heaped upon her that she did not feel, and she considered for a moment refusing again, but it was too late for anything of the sort. She had held for some time a secret in her heart: she loved her cousin Edmund. Now she stowed a second: she did not and could not love or respect the man she was to marry.

   “I was very surprised,” she admitted truthfully. Her anger was mixed with a good deal of fear; she did not dare correct his other assertions. It was a lie of omission and she regretted it a few minutes later, but by then it was passed and gone.

   “I did not consider rightly, I suppose, when I addressed you so suddenly. How strange that you should be astonished! Perhaps I have been more used to those who are quick to perceive any attention as admiration. It must only speak to the disinterestedness and delicacy of your character, which makes me all the more sure that I have secured the most rare and valuable woman in the world.”

   Fanny blushed deeply, unused to this sort of flattery. She did not understand why Mr. Crawford had proposed to her at all; she had thought from the start that his attentions towards her meant nothing. Yet he had gone to her uncle and he was here, now, accepting her as his intended. Nothing made sense anymore; she could not account for his actions in any reasonable way. In any other man, she would not have been able to deny earnest love, but she still imagined his declarations to her to be what he had expressed towards her cousins or fifty other women.

   “I will begin to look for a good situation in the neighbourhood, I would not take you from Northamptonshire,” he said gallantly. “There are a few houses I thought might be acceptable.”

   “No,” Fanny felt the word burst from her. That could not be right. He ought not stay in Northamptonshire, not when he had an obligation towards his estate in Norfolk. While that\

was the first reason that was raised in her mind, she also felt it better to avoid Mrs. Rushworth and Julia, who some time or another must be back in the country. They would be angry and jealous and she did not wish to witness it. He was waiting for her to continue and she made herself speak, “Why would we not settle in Norfolk?” She spoke of “we” with detachment, as if she was negotiating for someone else.

   “I had thought you would be more comfortable here; it is what you are used to.”

   Fanny was surprised again, for him to suggest such a thing was both kind and, in most ways, correct: she did feel that a removal from Mansfield would be painful. The offer was tempting, but her principles rose against it. He ought to be at Everingham, caring for the tenants and servants who relied upon him. Her feelings were immaterial. It was no different than Edmund’s resolution to live in his own parish. She would not allow Mr. Crawford to surrender his duty on her account.

Fanny also felt that she must separate herself from Edmund if she was to accept her fate with any composure. She must not remember each day what she had lost, even if she had never felt a real chance of acquiring it. It would be better to leave everything behind her. Besides all this, if the wedding did not in fact occur, as she hoped it would not, there would be no difficulty in dissolving the engagement. He could not take a house in the neighbourhood.

   “I would think it right to reside at Everingham,” she said quietly.

   “Why do you think it right?”

   “It is your home and responsibility. If I am to be your wife, I have a duty towards those under your protection.”

   This caused him no consternation, he seemed just as cheerful as he had been before, “Then I will need to travel there and make preparations, though I am loath to leave you now. I will regret every moment I am parted from you. However, it will be much simpler to ready my home to receive you, than to find one here. Nothing will stand in the way of an early date for the wedding.”

   Fanny could not think of a proper reply.

   “I shall write to your father,” he said, though it bore a hint of a question, “Sir Thomas did not foresee opposition from that quarter.”

   Fanny nodded. There could be no objection from her family, not when Mr. Crawford had made William a lieutenant. Even if he had not done such a great thing, he was a man of fortune, far beyond what anyone could have imagined Fanny would attract. She did not remember her family very clearly and she rarely received word from home, but she was certain enough in their acquiescence to whatever a rich young man with connections in the navy could ask of them.

   “Dear Fanny, is it too much to ask you now, to name the day that you will make me the most fortunate among my sex?” he said eagerly.

   Fanny had very little opinion in the matter, she had not thought past this day and this hour. Her fate was inevitable, she found that she did not care when the dreaded event came to pass, unless by its delay she could prevent it. She also

 considered her obligation towards the Bertrams, whose wishes were yet unknown to her. She eventually said, “You may speak with my uncle, whenever he thinks is best.”

   “I will speak to him, today if it can be contrived. I cannot think of any reason for delay. It would be preferable if everything was completed before my usual stay with my uncle at Easter.”

   Fanny was fortunately already in command of her countenance because the suggestion of meeting Mr. Crawford’s uncle was terrifying. She could not think it was right for herself to enter such a house or visit such a man. This was what she was to be wedded to, a man who thought nothing of the evil which had driven his own sister from her childhood home. She wondered if she had the resolve to ask for a delay, but Easter would be late this year and she felt that it was impossible to change her resolution now.

   “Fanny,” he said again, and she bristled at the easiness with which he spoke her Christian name. He was standing very close to her now and she willed herself not to retreat.

   “My full name is Frances,” she said softly.

   “I have never heard you called Frances, it is Fanny that I think of all day and dream of all night.”

   “I am to be married,” she said, as explanation.

   “Then you shall be dearest, sweetest Frances,” he replied.

Fanny treasured her small triumph. She would not surrender her heart or her name. It was a hollow victory, to be sure, but it was the only victory she could think to expect. That Mr.

Crawford did not seem disturbed at all was a relief; he did not suspect her.

   Mr. Crawford took her hand and began to lift another to her face; Fanny involuntarily drew back. He stopped and said, “But that is too forward, I think. You have only just begun to know your feelings. No, I will not press you, there can be no consternation in waiting when the prize is already secured.”

   “Prize?” Fanny repeated.

   “Yourself, of course. You have qualities which I had not supposed to exist in such a degree in any human creature. You have some touches of the angel in you beyond what—not merely beyond what one sees, because one never sees anything like it—but beyond what one fancies might be. To have you as my own is more than I am worthy of, you are infinitely superior in merit to me, this I know.”

   Fanny could not hear such praise with complete indifference and her heart was swayed, though only slightly, by the strength of his apparent affection. She remained largely confused that he had addressed her at all. What he was playing at now, she could not begin to guess. Perhaps it was only a whim and, in a few weeks, he would beg her to end everything. That was the only thing she could hope for now.

   There was only one other light in her future: that Edmund would soon be home. Fanny dared to hope that with his knowledge of Mr. Crawford’s prior conduct, he would protest against the union. She would rather have died than reveal to Sir Thomas the secret of his daughters’ impropriety, but if Edmund would only speak the truth of Mr. Crawford’s actions

during the play, she might be spared. Surely, he would be able to perceive her discomfort with the arrangement.

   Mr. Crawford was still looking at her, perhaps expecting her to say something. Wanting only to escape, she said, “My aunt Bertram will be expecting me.”

   He released her hands, affirmed again his devotion to her, and went in search of Sir Thomas. Fanny felt somewhat better as she made her way downstairs. Mr. Crawford would not be constant, of that she was certain. She only needed to avoid him as much as possible and he would find someone else to pursue. She would be released without any fault on her part. It was her first and most precious wish. It was not only for her own sake; she was certain that Mr. Crawford would be just as miserable as her. She hoped he would come to his senses soon.

   Fanny found Lady Bertram in her usual repose with Mrs. Norris working busily beside her. Sir Thomas must have already appraised them of the situation for as she entered, Mrs. Norris gave Fanny such a black look that she might have retreated, but Lady Bertram asked for Fanny’s help and she could not refuse. She settled down beside her aunt Bertram and began to assist her with a difficult portion of her sewing.

   Mrs. Norris said officiously, “You will not, I hope, be putting on airs and thinking yourself too high for this kind of work. I often observed before that you have a spirit of pride which you ought to get the better of.”

   Fanny made no reply. She understood that Mrs. Norris must hate her for the proposal from Mr. Crawford, which in Mrs. Norris’s mind, was a grave insult to Julia. That Fanny had not sought out the attention she was now suffering under was

not material to her aunt; it only seemed to further her resentment. Fortunately, as Fanny did not seek to aggrandize herself in the family with her new status, Mrs. Norris soon declared she must see to the servants and went off to recommend her worth to the Bertrams with renewed vigour.

   Lady Bertram was somewhat animated during the course of the morning, for she was absolutely sure that Mr. Crawford had fallen in love with her niece at the ball and she repeated several times, “You did look remarkably well and I sent Chapman to you. That is what did it in the end and I will tell Sir Thomas so.” 

   “Will you not miss me, when I am married? You cannot wish me to be away from Mansfield,” Fanny said, who was ready to console her aunt for the loss of all her comfort at home. She imagined that her removal would be a great difficulty for Lady Bertram.

   “Oh no, I shall do very well, knowing that you have married such a man as Mr. Crawford. You know it is every girl’s duty to accept an offer as unexceptionable as this and it is every mother’s duty, or aunt’s as it were, to rejoice in it. I will do very well without you. And Norfolk is not so very far from here. You must visit us in due time.”

Fanny made a civil reply but did not feel safe to say anything more. There was no refuge in her aunt’s enthusiasm; Fanny endured it patently. Lady Bertram made a remark every few minutes and even half-promised that she would visit Fanny at Everingham, if she felt a little less indisposed. Sir Thomas

joined them after about an hour and gave his report on Mr. Crawford’s intentions.

   “He has gone to write to your father, as I thought most proper for him to do given the circumstances. With your agreement, which I understand you to have given, he has proposed a very early day for the nuptials and if everything is carried out as we all wish, you will depart from Mansfield no later than the week of February seventh.”

   Fanny heard this with practised composure and was determined not to dwell on the fact that it was only a short month away. She was convinced Mr. Crawford’s infatuation, if that was indeed what had prompted him to propose to her, would fade quickly and she had sanguine hopes that by avoidance and indifference she could deter him or, at the very least, bring him back to his proper mind. Could she dare hope that a month would be enough to do all of this? She regretted not being more prepared when Mr. Crawford had asked her to decide the date, but her mind was in too much confusion for much planning or rational thought.

   Sir Thomas had seen much good in the proposed speed of the union and had encouraged Mr. Crawford to set an early date. While he had been very surprised that Mr. Crawford had addressed his niece, he was determined that the marriage

 would take place as soon as possible, lest the young man change his mind. He had several personal motives in the promotion of the alliance: Sir Thomas had high hopes for Edmund’s success with Miss Crawford which would relieve some of the guilt he felt for Edmund’s lost inheritance; he had been personally spared from expense of giving Fanny some

portion by Mr. Crawford’s warm protestations to the matter; and he had fond ideas of the Prices rising from their ongoing penury on Mr. Crawford’s interest. But there was an inducement greater still to have no obligation to provide for Fanny’s future: only that week he had heard of another large debt incurred by his eldest son, Tom. Therefore, he wished to appear everything magnanimous in the disposal of his niece, while sparing himself from almost all real sacrifice.

   Therefore, he continued, “I have come with a dual purpose, as our niece’s wedding clothes must be prepared at once. Everything, I conjecture, might be purchased within the week and then made up either here or in Northampton.”

   Fanny was genuinely surprised by this act of benevolence and she began to thank her uncle, who stopped the effusion of her gratitude to instead address his wife as to the particulars. When it was discovered that in reference to Mrs. Rushworth’s clothes, nearly everything had been done by Mrs. Norris and the bride herself, Sir Thomas set out to find his sister-in-law. Fanny was left to pour out her thanks to her aunt Bertram, who accepted the gratitude without question, no matter how little she had to do with it.

Mrs. Norris, therefore, was charged with the task of providing (in her opinion) decidedly undeserved wealth to her niece. She, who had resented and constrained every favour rendered to Fanny, suffered the mortification of indulging nearly two hundred pounds on her outfitting. Prevented by Sir Thomas’s orders from what she considered economy, it was a hard task indeed, but one that she was obliged by her forced necessity to the Bertrams to complete. That Fanny Price would be given so much, so near what was provided to Maria (despite it being less than half the expenditure), irritated Mrs. Norris to such an extent that she was hardly civil to anyone for the rest of the month.

Jan 6 – Friday

   Fanny went to call on Miss Crawford, at her request, who was anxious to congratulate her new sister on her engagement. Miss Crawford, who really did love her, rose to meet Fanny and fell upon her with a ready embrace. No one else was at home: Doctor and Mrs. Grant had business in the village.

   Miss Crawford began immediately, “I sent Henry out riding; I wanted to speak to you alone. I am sorry to keep him from you for even a moment, but I wanted you to myself. You will forgive me my selfishness, I am sure, you are always so good.”

Fanny assured her that she did, relieved not to have Mr. Crawford present.

   “It is charming to think that in only a few weeks I may properly call you my sister. I feel that we were born to be connected. I cannot help but love you. And that you shall marry Henry, it is all joy. You must know Henry is more happy than I have ever seen him; he talks of you constantly.”

   That Miss Crawford wished Fanny to believe that her brother was in love was no surprise to Fanny. She had read her note only two days before, though she had not thought it was serious. “Does he indeed?” she asked, in an effort to determine the truth.

   “Do you doubt his devotion? Excellent creature! Only you could have such modesty. You must know that you have engaged his affection in such a way that I have never even imagined before. He has thought of nothing but you and

spoken of little else. You must think of what it has been like for me, to keep such a great secret these last few days.”

   “It is all rather sudden,” said Fanny.

   Mary looked amazed, “Sudden? No! It cannot have been a surprise to you. You must have seen that he was trying to please you by every attention in his power. Was he not devoted to you at the ball? And then before the ball, the necklace!”

   “The necklace! Your brother knew of the necklace beforehand? Miss Crawford that is not fair!”

   “Frances, we are to be sisters, will you not call me Mary?”

   Fanny did not wish to give Miss Crawford this honour any more than she did to Mr. Crawford, “He ought not have given me such a thing; it was not proper.”

   Miss Crawford only smiled, “It was his doing entirely, his own thought. I am ashamed to say that it never entered my head. Now you are actually engaged, so it cannot possibly be protested against- but that is not even the whole of it, what he has done for your brother! The Admiral hates trouble and scorns asking favours. Henry must have exerted himself in the promotion of Mr. Price.”

   “Yes, it was very kind,” said Fanny, and she was really grateful. The recollection of what had been done for William made a sure push at her feelings and she felt somewhat ashamed of not liking Mr. Crawford better. She sat for a moment in quiet reflection on this point.

   Mary suddenly commanded her attention by saying, “I do seriously and truly believe that he is attached to you in a way

 that he never was to any woman before; that he loves you with all his heart, and will love you as nearly for ever as possible. If any man ever loved a woman for ever, I think Henry will do as much for you.”

   Fanny did not know what to say in reply. She had never dared give Miss Crawford the honour of her confidence, and did not feel any freedom to speak now, for whatever she said would surely travel to Mr. Crawford. Luckily, she was not called upon to speak of him. Miss Crawford had other matters on her mind and after giving Fanny a moment to join in the praise of her brother, which was met with silence, she began to speak of what was more interesting to her: Edmund.

   “Does your cousin still remain away?” Miss Crawford asked.

   “Yes, and I am not sure when he means to return,” Fanny said, hoping against hope that by the time Edmund did come home, Miss Crawford would be safely away in London. She worried that the brother’s engagement might delay their departure unreasonably. Edmund must be lost to Fanny forever, but she could not bear to see him a dupe of Miss Crawford.

   “Has he not written? I did not think when he departed that he meant to be gone so long.”

   “No, he has not written again to me or to Sir Thomas. Only what I told you of last time.”

   “Do you think he has heard the happy news then?”

   Fanny could only shake her head.

   “I own that I want to see him before I depart. I am sorry to go now! I would have put it off if I could, but Mrs. Fraser would not hear of it. She is right; however, it is only a wedding and there shall be more than enough time to be with you afterwards. You are all so dear to me now, I shall not see anyone half so amiable where I am going.”

   “But you are going to see a particular friend,” Fanny protested.

   “Yes, it is true, but I would rather remain here, if it was all not arranged. Henry has told me you are to go to Everingham and I long to join you there as quickly as I can. Mrs. Fraser and Lady Stornoway must learn to do without me, I suppose, but I must give them a few weeks at least. You will write to me?”

Fanny was unable to refuse the request for correspondence, though she was suspicious of it and thought Miss Crawford only wished to communicate with Edmund while Fanny remained at Mansfield.

   She took Fanny’s hand and said with real emotion, “I could not be more pleased in my brother’s choice, I am convinced you are the only woman in the world who could make him happy. He could not have chosen better. It makes one long for a similar attachment, but I will not speak of myself. I will only add that I will miss you every day that I am away from you; my dear sister.”

   Fanny was flattered and confused by her friend. She embraced Miss Crawford as they parted with some measure of affection. Fanny was angry about the trick of the necklace and thought it was very wrong for any engagement to begin

with deception. She remembered how Miss Crawford had told her that her brother had purchased the necklace some time before. Had it all been an attempt at conferring obligation towards her brother? She left the house more wary of the sister than previously and more confused about the brother than ever.

   Another thought intruded as Fanny walked back to the park, as far as Fanny could discern, Miss Crawford really believed that her brother was in love. Fanny’s rational mind knew he had no motive to lie to his sister. But then she wondered if Mary was a part of the trick, whatever it was. She could not determine the truth; Miss Crawford had seemed everything sincere and friendly. Could she really wish for a marriage between herself and her brother? It seemed beyond belief; against everything she knew of Miss Crawford’s character. Fanny did not know what to think.

Available on Amazon & Kindle Unlimited now