Fanny did feel the full benefit of the proposed connexion between herself and Henry Crawford, just as her uncle, and indeed everyone else, wished her to; she knew that as Mrs Crawford she would have a home in which she would rule, pin money to spend as she wished, and carriages to take her to London and back again. But what she could not quite express in such a way that anyone would understand was that such things could not – and should not – make up for the dissolution of her suitor’s character, his want of steadfastness, and the bad habits to which he had been brought up.
She was resolved to avoid his and his sister’s company as much as possible, particularly once Edmund had made it so plain that he felt that Mr Crawford must prevail in the end, but it was most unfortunate that Mary Crawford called after church, when Fanny had been told to sit with Lady Bertram and was not able to think of any way to escape.
“Fanny!” cried Mary as she entered the drawing room, “you are the very girl I wished to see.” It was no doubt untrue, but the sentiment expressed caused Fanny some guilt when she considered the judgment levied by herself upon Miss Crawford and her brother on their absence from the service. “I bring news of the saddest kind – my dear brother was thrown from his horse yesterday and may not leave the house until his broken limb is healed. We must have you come, Miss Price, and lift our spirits.” As Fanny’s guilt was then doubled and even trebled, she made only a feeble attempt at an excuse, and allowed herself to be led away to the Grants’ cottage despite her fear that the entire situation presented to her was a ruse.
When she removed her bonnet and shawl and was shown into the study, however, it became clear that there was no ruse. Mr Crawford was only partially dressed, without his coat and with his hair in disarray, and his ankle, which was wrapped tightly with a bandage, was propped up on several cushions and an embroidered footstool. There was still a trace of doubt in her mind, but it dissipated the moment that he saw her enter the room with his sister.
“Really, Mary, I told you that there was no need to fetch anyone,” he said, leaning forward in the easy chair as though he would rise, then flinging himself back impatiently. “I am in no condition –”
“You are in no condition to exert yourself,” said Miss Crawford, “but you know that Miss Price is the gentlest of creatures, and the best companion in times of woe, as Lady Bertram has told me. I thought that she would do very well to amuse us while you are confined indoors and cannot visit anyone. Now, Fanny, you must sit in this chair, between my brother and the window, so that you may have the light, and I shall go to my room for my work-basket.” As soon as she had installed Fanny to her liking, she left with a satisfied air, and Fanny could not trust that she would return within the hour. She could not say anything herself – this was even beyond making her take the necklace that Mr Crawford had bought, in order to force a greater acquaintance between them – and the two sat for a moment in an awkward silence.
“Miss Price,” said Mr Crawford, “it is very good of you to have come. I wish – I hope that I can convince you that I did not ask for my sister to bring you here to entertain me. She did say that she would bring your cousin Edmund to speak with me, but I had thought she was teazing and would only go to amuse herself with the misses Bertram.”
Fanny said nothing in return: she was utterly lost in confusion. There were many situations which she dreaded on a daily basis, but to be alone with Mr Crawford in his home was one which had not even occurred to her imagination, and so she had never thought of what she might do. At last, she recalled that she had a small piece of fancy-work in her reticule, and she silently pulled it out and began to stitch.
Henry Crawford was, very much unlike himself, similarly afflicted. He wished for Miss Price to see him in full dress, active, and charming: in fine, as an attractive gentleman. To be witnessed in disarray and weakness was to fail utterly at his plan – he was certain that she could never love him if she were to see him thus, and could not even think of any droll thing to say. He looked at her in a different light, now that his hope of winning her was extinguished, and instead of watching her as a hunter watched a deer, he simply saw her.
She was seated near the window, her head bent over her work and her fingers moving with a deft sureness that he had rarely seen in her other motions; as she sewed, her face relaxed and smoothed into an expression that was serene and almost confident. Fanny still did not have the shine of Julia or the beauty of Maria, but he suddenly found himself wanting not to make a little hole in her heart or even to have her care about his wound, but to show her that he had an appreciation for her own qualities.
“Miss Price,” he managed to say, “I do not wish to distract you from your sewing, if it is more pleasant for you, but I would be most obliged if you could read to me.”
She looked up in surprize: she had been expecting him to command her attention, but had thought he would attempt either raillery or flirtation. “Oh! But you are a much better reader than I am – you would not like to hear me try to declaim Shakespeare.”
“I am sure that’s not the case,” he said seriously, “but I would truly like to hear anything you would choose to read. It would help to take my mind off of my leg, and of course it would probably improve my moral character greatly.”
After some hesitation and cajoling, Fanny secured a bible from one of the study bookcases and began to read from the psalms in a soft but clear voice. Though he had misgivings as to his enjoyment of her subject matter and she had misgivings as to his motives, by the time that Mary returned, both felt somewhat at ease with their occupations, and they had ceased to even think of the time passing or of the strange situation they had found themselves in.
“What, the bible!” cried Mary when she entered at last with her workbasket. “Have you converted him, then, Miss Price? Dr Grant will be so pleased when I tell him.” The spell broken, Fanny remembered the indelicacy of her having sat so long alone and rose in some confusion to leave, despite Mary’s protests.
“I do thank you,” said Mr Crawford, once Mary had been silenced by Fanny’s determination to go; “I think you have done me a great deal of good. But you must not let Mary force you to do anything you do not like, and I shall have to scold her very much for what she has done today.”
Miss Price’s only response to him was a hurried smile, but once she and Mary had left the room and shut the door, he could hear their intercourse if he held his breath.
“Since you must go now, I hope that you will return tomorrow – I will keep my workbasket in the study, or in the parlor, or somewhere that I can find it again, so that we might spend some time together, you know.”
“I think – that is – Miss Crawford, I cannot be certain that neither of my aunts will require me tomorrow, but if they do not, I believe that it might be possible.”