Mary: To Protect Her Heart (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 3)

  Mary: To Protect Her Heart

  Mansfield Park Continuation, Episode 3

  Leenie Brown

  Leenie B Books

  Halifax

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without written permission from its publisher and author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, events, and places are a product of this author’s imagination. If any name, event and/or place did or does exist, it is purely by coincidence that it appears in this book.

  Cover design by Leenie B Books. Images sourced from Deposit Photos and Period Images.

  Mary: To Protect Her Heart ©2018 Leenie Brown. All Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted.

  Contents

  Dear Reader,

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Before You Go

  Tom: To Secure His Legacy Excerpt

  Acknowledgements

  Other Leenie B Books

  About the Author

  Connect with Leenie

  Dear Reader,

  At the end of Mansfield Park, Jane Austen wrote:

  Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody not greatly in fault themselves to tolerable comfort and to have done with all the rest.

  It is my goal in writing the books found in the Other Pens Collection to take up my pen and continue the stories of various Austen characters who were at fault in some way in Miss Austen’s novels. In these stories of redemption and reformation, I do not look to dwell on the characters’ guilt and misery so much as help them find a way to overcome their failures and find their own happiness.

  These stories are not retellings or even variations. They are continuations, which begin with at least one Austen character and spread outward as the change from in that one individual’s life influences the lives of others in his or her circle of friends and family.

  The book you hold in your hand is one of my Mansfield Park Continuation Episodes, which began after the close of Manfield Park with Henry Crawford deciding to prove himself worthy of a good woman. While each episode contains a complete happily ever after for its hero and heroine, it is assumed that the reader knows about the events in the preceding books. Therefore, while reading in any order may be done, for maximum enjoyment, reading all of the books in order is recommended.

  Chapter 1

  Mary Crawford watched her brother’s friend, Charles Edwards, walk away from her. Anger and hurt warred within her. If she could just make the anger stronger than the pain of yet another rejection, she would be able to keep her chin held high and the tears where they should be – locked away. Tears were a sign of weakness, something upon which a gentleman could ply his game. She was not the sort of lady who would be a pawn in some gentleman’s game.

  “That was rather harsh. Not undeserved, I would venture, but harsh,” someone said behind her.

  “Indeed, it was!” Mr. Tenley, with whom she was supposed to dance, agreed forcefully.

  Mary steeled her spine and turned toward the gentleman behind her. “Mr. Bertram.”

  Tom Bertram gave her a small bow. “Miss Crawford.” He greeted. “I am well, and so is most of my family.” He offered without her inquiring. “Fanny and Edmund will have a child before the summer is through. Julia and Yates already have a daughter, and, in case you have not heard, it is unlikely that Maria will ever have the joy of being a mother.”

  “Now, just a moment,” Mr. Tenley interjected. “I do not like the tone you are using with Miss Crawford.”

  Tom made a small, bitter laughing sound. “I do not like the abominable way in which Miss Crawford and her brother used my family. But, I will agree that this is not the best place for such a discussion.” He turned from the man sputtering beside Mary to her. “I cannot dance every set.” He lifted his cane. “And I prefer to save those sets for ladies who might fill the role of Lady Bertram when I come into my inheritance. However, if you have a set free, there is a well-lit path in the garden upon which we might stroll.”

  Mary regarded him warily. “You wish to walk with me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?” She knew how his family’s reputation had been damaged when her brother, due to her meddling, had run off with Tom’s sister, who was, at that time, married. The marriage had not survived the affair, and now Maria Bertram was a disgraced and divorced woman. There was no reason in Mary’s mind for Mr. Bertram to be kind to her.

  “I wish to know the whole of the ugliness in which my sister was involved. I have had time to contemplate life in a serious fashion, and I have decided that I will not bear a grudge against you or your brother. However, I must speak to both of you on the matter, so that it can be settled in my mind.” Tom looked across the ballroom to where Henry Crawford stood with a pretty young lady on his arm amidst a group of people. “And since your brother looks as if he is in no mood to be disturbed, I thought I would begin with you, and perhaps that will be enough.”

  “I – “ Mary began to refuse, but then, reconsidering, looked at Mr. Tenley. “Mr. Tenley, would you mind dreadfully if I were to switch this set for the next?” She had very little desire to dance at all with Mr. Tenley, but he had asked.

  “I was looking forward to this set,” Mr. Tenley replied.

  Mary beseeched him with her eyes and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she sighed.

  “However,” Mr. Tenley continued, “if you promise to not leave me standing for the next set.”

  “Would I do that?” Mary used her most charming voice. Mr. Tenley was one of those gentlemen who was easily led by such things.

  “No, I suppose you would not,” he replied.

  “Then, may I accompany Mr. Bertram to the garden?”

  Mr. Tenley nodded.

  “You are such an understanding gentleman,” Mary praised him. “Some girl is going to be very happy to have you ask for her hand. In fact, if I may make a suggestion, there is a pretty blonde standing by the pillar to our left who has been watching you for some time. I think she would be quite pleased if you were to ask her for a dance. I have not seen anyone approach her yet, but they soon will. She is far too pretty to be a wallflower.”

  “Is there indeed?” Mr. Tenley turned to look behind them and to the left. “Oh, she is very pretty. Not that I would think you would lead me astray on such things. You are a good judge of beauty.”

  “Thank you.” Mary removed her hand from his arm. “I am certain Mr. Bertram is as grateful as I am that you were so willing to oblige me in this.” She looked at Tom, who nodded.

  “Most appreciative,” he muttered.

  “Hurry. You do not wish to lose your chance,” Mary encouraged, and Mr. Tenley did as instructed and hurried away. But then, most men did what Mary told them, unless, of course, they were a Bertram or her brother – basically anyone who had come under the influence of some proper chit. It should be she who was increasing with Edmund Bertram’s child, not Fanny Price! She could have loved Edmund. She was almost convinced she did love him, even now that he was no longer under her influence.

  Tom Bertram extended his arm to her.
“This should set the tongues to wagging,” he quipped.

  She had always liked Tom’s ability to not care one wit about what the gossips said. However, he had never paid her any marked attention, and she had seen him dally with ladies and leave them. She would not pursue such a man — no matter how handsome he was or what his inheritance. When she finally decided it was time to marry, she would do as her sister had done and find a fine old fellow who would be far too ancient to care about debutantes and mistresses. He would be happy to have a beauty such as she for his wife, and therefore, she would never have to fear being pushed aside or subjugated to his whims. She had seen enough of that with the admiral. Whomever she married would not be like the admiral. Not at all.

  “Has your brother found a lady to accept him?”

  Mary nodded. “Miss Linton.”

  Tom whistled. “Quite a proper young lady, is she not?”

  Again, Mary nodded.

  “And Edwards seems smitten with Miss Barrett.”

  “He does.”

  Tom motioned for her to proceed through the door before him. “I’d not have thought to see him smitten, let alone smitten with one so proper as Miss Barrett.”

  “Nor would have I,” Mary replied.

  “I hope to find such a lady myself,” Tom confessed. “One who will not make me regret giving up my freedom.” He shrugged when she looked at him in surprise. “I have a legacy to secure unless I leave the title and estate to one of Edmund’s brood.”

  “You are giving up your life of pleasure?” What was becoming of all the fun-loving gentlemen? Why did they all seem to long for some dull lady when they could have their pick of just about anyone?

  “I am,” he replied. “I nearly died. You do remember that, do you not?”

  Oh, she remembered it. She had even imagined it occurring, and Edmund becoming a baronet rather than just a clergyman.

  “Such an experience does not leave one unaltered.”

  “That seems natural,” she replied.

  “Tenley is wrong for you.”

  Mary stumbled at such a startling comment.

  “He is too easily led. You would grow bored.”

  “Boring is not bad,” Mary said. “Boring is stable.”

  “Boring is dull. There is a difference between boring and constant. You want constant, not boring.”

  “I do?”

  He nodded. “I have had time to think on many things.”

  “You thought about me?”

  Again, he nodded. “How could I not? I wished to do you harm for some time, but then, I found I could accept what had happened and for my own good, I knew I needed to forgive. Not forget. Not welcome back with open arms. But forgive.” He stopped walking. “I do not hold what you and your brother have done to my family against either of you, but I do need to know why. Why would you toy with my family as you did? Why would you conspire to hurt them?”

  Mary’s mouth dropped open. She had never considered her actions in such a light. For with Tom’s questions she saw herself not as the beautiful, vivacious woman she knew herself to be, but as the surly, depraved admiral against whom she had been fighting for so long.

  “I… I… I am not certain,” she stammered. “I suppose I never thought it would do any harm to have a bit of fun.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth as she said them. What a sorry excuse for causing so much pain! A bit of fun! That was what the admiral had always said to his wife. ‘I do not know why you are so put out over my having a bit of fun.’ She shuttered. How had she become what she loathed?

  “I find I might need to sit down.” She clutched Tom’s arm more tightly as the bushes and lanterns in the garden began to swirl before her. Thankfully, there was a bench nearby. “I do not know what overcame me,” she lied as she took a seat. “Perhaps it was the heat of the room giving way to the coolness of the night air so quickly which caused it.”

  Tom shrugged. “I doubt it.” He took a seat next to her, looping his cane over his arm. “I hope to one day be rid of this thing,” he said, indicating the cane. “However, I am reliant on it for now.” He shifted to look at her. “You never considered the consequences of your game?”

  Mary shook her head.

  “You would not have liked being a parson’s wife,” he continued. “That is the one good thing that came from all of this. Your life has not yet been set.”

  “I would not call it good,” she admitted. She would have liked nothing better than to be settled into marriage by now.

  “Oh, come now,” Tom replied. “You loved the idea of Edmund, but you did not love Edmund. He was easily led – quite naïve and far too good to be anything but. However, I can assure you he is not the sort to be moulded into anything. He might appear to be such, but I have had enough experience in attempting to sway him, and succeeding for a time, only to be disappointed when his sense of duty and morality returned. He can only be fun for so long.” Tom chuckled. “I should have listened to his advice years ago, but I did not. I was too bent on pleasure to be hampered with things such as conscience and propriety. But as far as you are concerned, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he is not the sort of gentleman who would have squired you to parties and shown you off as you deserve. He is quite content to stay in the country and never travel to town.”

  “I like the country,” Mary countered. Before arriving at Mansfield Park, she had begged her brother to set her up at his estate, had she not?

  “For a time.”

  “No, I think I should enjoy remaining in the country.” There were far fewer mistresses in the country.

  “You would be bored in half a year’s time.”

  “I might have children.”

  “I still think you would grow bored. You are not the sort of lady one trundles off to the country and hides away. You are far too vivacious for such a thing. But I digress. I am not here to advise you on whom you should marry. I am here to discuss the scandal you helped create.”

  She had hoped they had left that topic behind. She did not want to discuss it. In fact, she did not even wish to think about it. She had not wanted to think about it before Henry returned to town, and then, she definitely had not wanted to think about it when her brother began citing it as a reason for them to be separated. And she knew quite firmly that she did not want to think about it, now, as Tom had presented it. Any reminder of the admiral was one too many, and any comparison between her and him was reprehensible to even contemplate contemplating. She would rather put the whole sorry business out of her head with a dance or a game of cards or one glass of punch too many.

  “There is nothing to discuss. I sought a bit of fun, and it spiralled into something I had never expected. I cannot speak for Henry, of course, but I do not think anything that he did was done maliciously. He was devastated by the loss of Fanny, so I know he did not consider that outcome before he began.” She sighed.

  Henry had taken the consequences of his actions to heart in a way that Mary was unable to do. While she grieved for her brother’s sorrow and her loss of Edmund, she found it difficult to feel remorse for Maria’s foolish behaviour, and it was absolutely impossible to even imagine a twinge of regret for Mr. Rushworth. If anything, the whole affair had reinforced what Mary already knew. Ladies – especially foolish ones like Maria Bertram – were the plaything of gentlemen to be used and discarded as needed. Had Maria exhibited some restraint and kept her affair quiet, Mary was still confident it could have been overlooked. Mr. Rushworth was not brilliant. He could easily be fooled. However, his mother was no fool, and therein lay the problem. Maria had not been able to keep the scandal from reaching the ears of Mr. Rushworth’s mother, who had a good grasp on both her son and his purse strings.

  Tom waved his cane at the door to the ballroom. “This is all a charade. Ladies pretending to be demur. Guardians putting on a good show that love and respect are important when in reality it is money and titles that they truly seek for their charges. And then there are those who are playing for the th
rill of the dare – taking what they can get from where they can get it and hoping not to be snared in the process.” He shook his head. “I used to find it all exhilarating, but now, I find it rather disgusting.” He turned to look at her.

  “I did not consider that my actions might result in my death. I was having just a bit of fun, so I can understand and even accept your explanation.” His lips curled into a startled grin. “I think it makes it easier for me to forgive you and your brother knowing that you were not purposefully scheming to cause harm. It would not make it easier for Edmund or my father, but for me, having been every bit as you were, it is understandable.” He pushed to his feet. “I wasted a large amount of my inheritance and that of my brother without a care for the results until my dissipated ways nearly led to my ultimate demise.” He extended a hand to her. “Shall we return? I should hate for you to miss out on a dance with Mr. Tenley.”

  Mary smiled as she slipped her hand into his. “I would not be sorry to miss it,” she admitted.

  “So, I am right.” There was a note of delight in his tone. “Tenley is boring.”

  Mary nodded. “And proper.”

  “Ah, but proper and boring do not need to be the same thing.”

  “They do not?” In her experience, they had always seemed inseparable. Was that not why she had attempted to sway Edmund away from being a parson? She pulled in a quick breath. Tom was right. Edmund would have been all wrong for her. He would have been loyal, and she would have never had to worry about him taking a mistress. However, she would have likely grown quite bored.

  “I intend to be a very interesting proper gent this season.”

  “You think it is possible?”

  “It seems Henry and Edwards are making valiant attempts at it. So, it must be doable.”

  Mary could not refute that. Her brother and his friend did seem to be quite happy being proper – or nearly proper — and she would not think of either of them as boring.