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to ask too many questions.”
    Elinor’s countenance was pale as she gazed at him. “Did they say if he was in the area—I mean, did they mention if he came into Somerset often?” she asked, adding, “I had understood that he lives mainly in London.” Edward nodded and took her hands in his before saying, “Please do not upset yourself, my love, it may not mean anything at all, but I believe he is in Somerset already and intends to spend the rest of the season in the county. The Clifts were looking forward to his visiting them soon.”
    Elinor covered her face with her hands, and nothing he said would comfort her. Ever since he had become acquainted with the Dashwoods—initially when his sister, Fanny, had married John Dashwood, and later when he had met the family again at Norland, their family home in Sussex—Edward had become aware of Elinor’s strong sense of responsibility toward her younger sister, Marianne, and to a lesser degree, her mother. The intensity of her concern had at first surprised him, but he had soon realised that it was a consequence of the value she placed on sound judgment and understanding, qualities in which they were somewhat lacking, and she possessed in full measure. This had been amply demonstrated during the period of Marianne’s amorous liaison with Mr Willoughby and its inevitable unhappy consequences. While Mrs Dashwood had indulged and defended both Marianne and Willoughby, Elinor alone had counselled caution. As he had come to admire and love her dearly, Edward had noted many examples of Elinor’s selfless devotion to her family and in particular Marianne, of whom she seemed especially protective.
    Once again, he was witnessing her excessive unease and on this occasion decided to question whether it was warranted. When she was a little calmer, he asked gently, “While I do understand your general concern, my love, I wonder whether you are not being unduly pessimistic about Mr Willoughby. Do you not think your sister, after almost seven years of marriage, is far less likely to be affected by recollections of her youthful association with him? After all, everyone knows she is now happily married to Colonel Brandon…”
    He was not ready for Elinor’s interruption. “Is she? Do you know that for certain, Edward?” she asked. Shocked, Edward was silent for a moment before he found his voice and said, “Is she not? Have you any evidence that their marriage is not happy? For I have seen none.”
    This time, Elinor struggled to respond, unable or perhaps unwilling to put into words the niggling doubts that had troubled her over the last year as she watched her sister grow restless and bored with her role as Lady of the Manor at Delaford.
    As her husband listened, amazed by the extent of her distress, she detailed her concerns. Some she had held without speaking of them to anyone, from the very first months of Colonel Brandon’s courtship of Marianne and their mother’s enthusiastic encouragement of it.
    â€œEven as I admired and valued the qualities that everyone applauded in Colonel Brandon, I could not help wondering whether these would suffice to hold Marianne’s interest and loyalty; knowing her as I do, aware of her addiction to a high level of romantic love and excessive emotion, I doubted if she would be satisfied with the rather gentlemanly courtliness and practicality of Colonel Brandon, whom she had already dismissed as being far too old to understand, much less match, her kind of sensibility,” she said. “She was grateful to him, of course, and appreciated his kindness, but that was when she was still recovering from the misery that had overwhelmed her after Willoughby’s betrayal. It was easy, in that mood, for Marianne to turn to someone like the colonel, who represented the very opposite of Willoughby. But even as I saw the affection between them grow, I feared that it might