Edmund struggled, but in vain.
“Dear fellow, you are at risk of tearing my lace. Pray relax and submit.” said Mr. Sneyd.
“My faith, Tom, if you’d told me that your brother was such a well-built fellow, we’d have more volunteers for this pleasant duty,” jested Hedgerow.
Tom laughed. “Pay them no mind, Edmund.”
“Yes, your virtue is safe with us,” added Mr. Yates.
“I have asked my friends to ensure that you are kept away from the dueling grounds. They will stay with you tonight. You will be released tomorrow morning.
“What does this mean, Tom?” Edmund gasped, although he had already formed a good idea. “What are you about?”
“Simply this, Edmund. I will fight the duel with Crawford on the morrow. Do not think I am doing you a favour. I am performing this one office of an elder brother, and you will soon agree it is a paltry enough service when you understand that in exchange, should I survive of course, I will abandon my life here in England. I will not marry, and I will have no heir. You, Edmund, are the heir presumptive. Stay away from duels, and after I die, you will become Sir Edmund Bertram one day—if not you, then your son. I will depart for Virginia with my stable of stud horses and begin my life anew, free from the responsibilities, the expectations and, I need hardly add, the continual cloud of our father’s disappointment in me that has hung over my head ever since I can remember.”
“Instead of being covered in shame, you will be covering mares in Virginia?” jested Sneyd.
“I believe only his horses will,” Hedgerow answered, with a friendly jab of the elbow.
Edmund stopped straining against his captors for a moment, hoping that Tom’s friends would relax their hold, then he tried suddenly to break away. Instantly the hands tightened on him, and he was dragged without ceremony to a parlour chair, and his arms and legs were bound to it.
“I haven’t had this much fun since Lord Ravenshaw’s masked ball,” laughed Yates.
“Tom,” begged Edmund. “Consider what you are about. I challenged Crawford, not you.”
“I have considered it, dear brother, and you cannot deny that, firstly, I am a much better shot than you are. Secondly, may I remind you that you are a clergyman. Thirdly, had I listened to your warning about that damned Lovers' Vows, none of us would be where we are tonight. It brought Crawford and Maria into a dangerous intimacy. Without the play, Crawford would not have had so fair an opportunity to insinuate himself into Maria’s—good graces, and life would not have imitated art. Because I was ashamed, I never informed you of what happened on the night of that final dress rehearsal. Instead, I allowed Crawford to pretend he was going to marry our sister.”
“I too, watched complacently as Crawford flirted with both of our sisters,” responded Edmund in anguish. “But Fanny! Who could have imagined that he was so base as to promise her marriage, and through some ruse—doubtless with a confederate posing as a clergyman—deceive her into surrendering herself to him, thinking herself his legal wife! There are not words strong enough to express my horror and detestation of the man. My blood is at the boil, Tom, I must meet him and hold him to account!”
“Ah…. pray do not distress yourself on Fanny’s account, she will be none the worse for her adventures and from what I have seen, she is decidedly improved.”
“How dare you speak so callously!” And Edmund began to struggle again.
“No, no, there has been a misunderstanding. There was no sham wedding ceremony. Listen to me. She agreed to pretend to be Crawford’s wife, for completely selfless motives, and he—and I have this from Fanny—never touched her, nor made any attempt upon her person. I think we can trust our cousin’s word on this point. His motive, as you may surmise, was to avoid matrimony with our sister.”
“This becomes more and more interesting,” exclaimed Sneyd.
“What motive would induce Fanny to deceive the world with a sham marriage?”
“I’m sure she would have explained it all to you had you not rushed out of the room to challenge Crawford to a duel.”
Edmund listened, transfixed—and so did his captors, for all hope of keeping their domestic affairs from the world was now at an end—as his brother explained how Fanny hoped to protect Maria from a man who was unworthy of her and, at the same time, help her brother. “I believe that the second motive was paramount. She was willing to make any sacrifice to help her brother get his promotion, and having obtained, so unexpectedly, the means to do it, she acted. I always said she would be able to act, if she tried, if you will recall.”
“You speak very lightly of—of such a tissue of deceits and falsehoods.”
“Well, condemn her if you must, judge her if you will, but I am rather more astonished at her temerity. Little Fanny, cold-bloodedly extorting a promise from an infamous rake, to help her brother! Who would have thought she had the sang-froid for such an enterprise!”
Edmund groaned aloud. “So Crawford is innocent of harming our cousin in—in the fashion that I had supposed. That was, indeed, why I sought him out so impetuously. But, now that we know the whole story, he still stands condemned for seducing and abandoning our sister, and pretending to be married to avoid doing his duty by her. Maria’s life is ruined. But it was my blunder, my error, which led to the challenge being laid. Surely it is
