#sir john middleton
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bethanydelleman · 6 months ago
Text
I find Sir John and Lady Middleton very interesting:
Sir John was a sportsman, Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she humoured her children; and these were their only resources. Lady Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her children all the year round, while Sir John’s independent employments were in existence only half the time. Continual engagements at home and abroad, however, supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education; supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise to the good breeding of his wife.
This seems to be a rather happy, successful marriage. Sir John happily hunts, hangs out with his mother-in-law, and throws parties for all the young people within his reach. Lady Middleton hangs out with her children, is fancy, and serves good meals. Both of them seem pretty content in their lives despite having opposite personalities and being pretty incompatible.
And you know what, I respect them for it. I'm fed up with Mr. Bennet, who basically hides from his family and treats his wife terribly (by exposing her to the contempt of her own children). He might be more amusing, but he's also irresponsible and a massive jerk. I'll take Sir John and his good natured-teasing any-day over Mr. Bennet's cutting wit.
Even though the narrator sometimes jokes about Sir John's kindness (he only wanted girls in Barton Cottage so he wouldn't have to share his hunting), he has done a genuine good deed in bringing the Dashwoods to Barton. Yes, he benefits from it because he and his wife are incapable of being alone together, but I'm still giving him all the props. Sir John is one of the best characters in this book and one of the best husbands we see in Austen (main couples excluded, as they don't marry during the books).
94 notes · View notes
ronavorona · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HP&TPOA vs S&S
575 notes · View notes
besotted-with-austen · 5 months ago
Text
Sir John Middleton: *outraged* what a scoundrel, that Willoughby! How could he play with our dear Marianne's heart so carelessly! And to think that he presented himself so well! This cannot do, I will personally go around telling everyone how badly he behaved with Marianne!
Elinor Dashwood: *urgently* but by doing so you would also expose Marianne to everyone's judgement-
Sir John Middleton: he will face the music!
27 notes · View notes
demigodofhoolemere · 1 month ago
Text
My dad: *mentioning Sense & Sensibility and trying to remember whether or not he’s ever seen or read it*
Me: I’d be more than happy to show you the movie
Me internally: Please give me an excuse to watch Robert Hardy please give me an excuse to watch Robert Hardy please pretty please give me an excuse to watch Robert Hardy
0 notes
hitchell-mope · 3 months ago
Text
Decent movie. I’d probably watch it again.
1 note · View note
snapheart1536 · 2 months ago
Text
Imelda Staunton racing in always makes me laugh.
Sense and Sensibility 1995
4 notes · View notes
leonisandmurex · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Catherine & Art || Self portrait by Sir Anthony van Dyck, The Japanese footbridge by Claude Monet, The evening sun by Oscar Rejlander, The miraculous draught of fishes by Raphael, The Girl with the pearl earring by Johannes Vermeer, Portrait of Omai by Sir Joshua Reynolds
"For me, the power of the images is in the poignant and personal stories that sit behind them" The Princess of Wales
83 notes · View notes
jeannetterankin · 1 month ago
Text
there are so many to choose from! Truly, a novel with such an exquisite exploration of the many ways to be a huge dick
164 notes · View notes
catherinetheprincessofwales · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
 Baronet -> Coal-miners -> Royalty  
“A time may yet come, perchance, when a descendant of one of these simple artizans may arise, not unworthy of the Conyers' ancient renown; and it will be a gratifying discovery to some future genealogist, when he succeeds in tracing in the quarterings of such a descendant the unsullied bearing of Conyers of Durham." Sir Bernard Burke, 1861.
In 1861 the genealogist and publisher of Burke’s Peerage Sir Bernard Burke, in his book "Vicissitudes of Families", dedicated a chapter to the “The Fall of Conyers" which concludes with the following: "Magni stat nominis umbra! The poor Baronet left three daughters, married in very humble life: Jane, to William Hardy; Elizabeth, to Joseph Hutchinson; and Dorothy, to Joseph Barker, all working men in the little town of Chester-le-Street. A time may yet come, perchance, when a descendant of one of these simple artizans may arise, not unworthy of the Conyers' ancient renown; and it will be a gratifying discovery to some future genealogist, when he succeeds in tracing in the quarterings of such a descendant the unsullied bearing of Conyers of Durham."
Sir Thomas Conyers, was the 9th and last Baronet Conyers of Horden Hall. While a gentleman at birth, he was reduced to poverty and resided at the Durham Workhouse. His pride made him reject financial aid from his distant relatives, among them his second cousin Mary Eleanor Bowes, Countess of Strathmore, whose funeral he attended at Westminster Abbey in 1800. At the time she was one of the wealthiest women in England and is an ancestor of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyons, the late Queen Mother.
His later years were made somewhat more comfortable at the aid of another distant cousin, George Lumley-Saunderson, the 5th Earl of Scarborough who provided him with a small house. Sir Thomas died a pauper on 15 April 1810. His surviving children, three daughters had married working men in the little town of Chester-le-Street, County Durham. As if from a Thomas Hardy novel, his daughter Jane married a man named William Hardy. 
For five generations Sir Thomas Conyers descendants would work as labourers, and often in coal mines once owned by distant ancestors and now owned by the Bowes-Lyon family. By the sixth generation his descendant Robert Harrison, a carpenter left his family still working in the coal mines to seek opportunities in London. There he married and had a daughter, Dorothy who married a builder named Ronald Goldsmith. 
The early years of Dorothy and Ronald’s marriage and their children's upbringing were spent in a comfortable council house, providing the security needed to buy their own home. Their daughter, Carole, became a flight attendant and married a young flight dispatcher, Michael. They settled in Berkshire and spent a few years in Jordan, working for British Airways, before returning to Berkshire, where Carole started her own business at her kitchen table. 
Almost ten generations and 201 years after Sir Thomas Conyers died a pauper, his descendant Catherine Middleton married Prince William of Wales on 29 April 2011. 
Family Line 
Sir Thomas Conyers 9th Bt. Conyers of Horden (drawing) m. Isabel Lambton
Jane Conyers of Chester Le Street, County Durham m. William Hardy of
Jane Hardy of Biddick, County Durham m. James Liddell
Anthony Liddell of Little Lumley, County Durham m. Martha Stephenson 
Jane Liddell (photo) m. John Harrison 
John Harrison (photo) m. Jane Hill
Robert Harrison (photo) m. Elizabeth Temple 
Dorothy Harrison (photo) m. Ronald Goldsmith 
Carole Goldsmith m. Michael Middleton 
Catherine Middleton m. Prince William of Wales
93 notes · View notes
bethanydelleman · 8 months ago
Text
Sir John Middleton is DELIGHTFUL!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Sir John: Tomas is a mediocre servant at best. I'm sure he won't be missed.]
Love him already.
16 notes · View notes
fanfictionismyaddiction · 3 months ago
Text
A Dashwood Heart
Word count: 4.8k
Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Reader
Summary: The eldest Dashwood daughter, devoted to her younger half-sisters, moves with her family to Barton Cottage after their father's death leaves them with little inheritance. She secretly admires Colonel Brandon, who initially favors her sister Marianne.
______________________________________________________________
The passing of my father, Henry Dashwood, left a weight that settled heavy in the marrow of our bones. His death, unexpected in its swiftness, brought with it the end of comfort and the beginning of uncertainty. I am the eldest daughter of his first marriage, older by only five years than Elinor, the eldest daughter of his second. I had never known my own mother, who died bringing me into this world, and so my father’s second wife was the only mother I had ever known. She was kind and patient, and my sisters and I grew under her gentle guidance.
My older brother John inherited everything when Father passed, as was the law, but with it came his wife, Fanny—a woman whose character was as sharp as her tongue. Fanny Dashwood's arrival at Norland Park was not unlike a frost that comes too early in autumn, turning the leaves brittle and stripping the branches bare. Her presence suffocated any joy that had remained after Father’s passing. It became clear that our new reality, under John's roof, was not one we could endure. Thus, we set our sights on Barton Cottage, a modest home offered by a distant relation, Sir John Middleton.
The cottage was small and plain, lacking the grandeur and refinement of Norland Park. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in charm. We were together, and so it was enough. Elinor, Marianne, Margaret, our mother, and I—all of us settled into this new life with a mixture of trepidation and determination.
I had always been a second mother to my younger sisters, a role that came naturally to me as the eldest girl. I felt a special kinship with Margaret, who, being the youngest, had a particular need for a guiding hand. Elinor, though close in age to me, often bore her own burdens quietly. Marianne, on the other hand, with her romantic ideals and fiery spirit, needed a steadying force. I often thought it was my duty to be that force, even if she did not see it.
As time passed, our days at Barton Cottage grew filled with the warmth of companionship and the quiet joys of a simpler life. I found solace in the small routines—mending, reading, walking along the countryside with Margaret. For a time, I was content, even happy. But then, the company at Barton Park—the home of Sir John Middleton and his mother-in-law, Lady Jennings—brought a new awareness into my life.
It was during one of our frequent visits to Barton Park that I first observed Colonel Brandon. He was a man of quiet composure, with an air of reserve that spoke of unspoken sorrows. He was a gentleman, older than the other men we often met, but with a certain gravity that I found quite compelling. His attentions, however, were firmly fixed on Marianne.
I watched, often from a quiet corner of the room, as his eyes followed her movements, as he listened intently to her musical performances, his expression softening with every note she played. He would sit close enough to speak, yet always waited until she addressed him, his voice low and gentle when he did. It was clear that his admiration for her was genuine, but Marianne, so young and full of romantic ideals, was blind to his feelings.
Instead, she became enchanted by John Willoughby, a young man full of wit and charm. Willoughby, with his easy smiles and impetuous manner, was everything Marianne believed a hero to be. Colonel Brandon, seeing this, withdrew with quiet grace. I admired him for it, though it seemed his heart must surely ache. I began to feel a tug at my own heartstrings—a sense of kinship with him, perhaps, or an unspoken admiration.
One afternoon, as I sat with Elinor on the lawn at Barton Park, I ventured to speak of the Colonel.
"He is a man of remarkable steadiness, is he not?" I said, glancing over to where he stood, a little apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the distant hills.
Elinor nodded, her eyes following mine. "Indeed, he is. I find his company most agreeable, though he speaks but little."
"I have noticed that too," I replied. "Yet, there is much to be discerned in what he does not say. He has a manner that speaks of deep feeling, I think."
Elinor regarded me with a small smile. "Do you think so, sister? I believe you are right."
I could not help but feel a faint blush warm my cheeks. "It is only an observation," I murmured, turning my gaze to the ground. I had grown accustomed to being unnoticed, overshadowed by Marianne's beauty and Elinor's quiet elegance. Yet, I could not help but wonder if anyone had ever truly seen me—noticed me.
Days turned into weeks, and I continued to observe Colonel Brandon from a distance. I knew more about him than he would ever know of me, gleaned from quiet conversations with Elinor and overheard remarks from Lady Jennings, who was forever trying to marry off everyone in her sight.
"He is a good man, but so very serious," Lady Jennings had said one day. "A little dull for my tastes, but a fortune and a fine estate at Delaford. That is something, is it not?"
It was one evening, while we were all gathered at Barton Park, that I saw a change in him. Marianne was at the piano, playing one of her lively sonatas, and Willoughby was near, his admiration evident in every glance. Colonel Brandon, standing by the window, watched them, his face a study in quiet resignation. I saw, in that moment, the precise second his gaze shifted—away from Marianne and, for the first time, toward me.
I looked away quickly, my heart unexpectedly fluttering. Did he see me? Did he see something in me that he had not seen before? But no, it could not be. A man like him, so full of dignity and experience, would never turn his attention toward someone as inconsequential as myself.
The next time we met, it was at Barton Cottage. I was sitting with Margaret, helping her with her stitching, when there came a knock at the door. I opened it to find Colonel Brandon standing there, his expression as grave as ever, yet his eyes—his eyes were softer somehow.
"Miss Dashwood," he said, inclining his head. "I hope I am not intruding. Sir John mentioned that Miss Marianne had been unwell, and I thought to bring some books she might enjoy."
I invited him in, my voice trembling slightly, though I hoped he would not notice. He handed me the books, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest of moments. There was a warmth in his touch that startled me, and I quickly withdrew my hand.
"Thank you, Colonel," I said, mustering a smile. "I am sure Marianne will appreciate your thoughtfulness."
He nodded, his eyes searching mine. "And you, Miss Dashwood—are you well?"
The question took me by surprise, and I hesitated. "I am quite well, thank you, Colonel."
He seemed to want to say more, but just then, Marianne entered the room, and his attention shifted back to her. I could not help but feel a small pang of disappointment, but I knew better than to hope for anything more.
The days passed, and Colonel Brandon continued to visit, sometimes bringing books, sometimes just to call. Each time, he was polite and reserved, his conversations directed more often to my sisters than to me. Yet, there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when his eyes would linger on mine, and I would feel a warmth spread through my chest that I could not quite name.
It was a slow realization, like a bud slowly unfurling in spring, that perhaps, just perhaps, he saw something in me. And yet, I dared not hope, for I had never known what it was to be truly seen or wanted by anyone.
One afternoon, as we walked along the hills near Barton, I found myself walking beside him, a little apart from the others. There was a comfortable silence between us, the kind that comes from a shared understanding. I dared to speak.
"Do you think, Colonel," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "that it is possible for someone to be overlooked all their life, and yet still hold hope for something more?"
He looked at me then, truly looked at me, and I felt the weight of his gaze settle upon my heart.
"I believe," he said slowly, "that there are those who go unnoticed because they are waiting for someone who sees them for who they truly are. And when that person comes, they will see them more clearly than anyone ever has."
I could hardly breathe. "Do you believe you have found such a person, Colonel?"
His eyes softened, and for the first time, I saw a hint of a smile touch his lips. "I think, Miss Dashwood, that I am beginning to see more than I ever expected."
As we walked on, my heart felt lighter than it had in years. Colonel Brandon’s words lingered in my mind, an echo of a possibility that had never before seemed within reach. I stole a glance at him beside me—his face turned toward the rolling hills, his expression contemplative. What did he see when he looked at me? Could he truly have meant that he was beginning to see me in a new light?
But no—doubts crept in as swiftly as the hope had formed. Perhaps he was merely being kind. Perhaps I had read too much into his words, a desperate grasping for something that was never there. I chastised myself inwardly and forced my thoughts back to the present.
Marianne, who had been ahead with Margaret, suddenly paused on the path. She turned back to us, her curls catching the light of the afternoon sun. “Colonel! Miss Dashwood! You must join us,” she called. “The view from here is quite extraordinary.”
Colonel Brandon’s gaze shifted from the hills to me. “Shall we?” he asked.
I nodded, and we walked the short distance to where Marianne and Margaret stood. As we reached them, I noticed the way Colonel Brandon’s eyes softened as he looked at Marianne. She was his first love here, I reminded myself, and my hopes began to wane again.
The four of us stood together, looking out over the valley, where the sunlight bathed the fields in a warm, golden hue. It was breathtaking, and for a moment, all my worries faded away.
Marianne, however, could never be quiet for long. “Colonel Brandon,” she began with a teasing smile, “you have been in a most serious mood all day. Come, share with us what weighs so heavily on your mind. Or is it that you have a secret you wish to keep hidden?”
He chuckled softly, a rare sound that drew my attention back to him. “I assure you, Miss Marianne, I am quite content at present,” he replied. “Though, perhaps I am simply in awe of the company I find myself in.”
Marianne laughed, a light and melodic sound. “You always know just what to say, Colonel. But I still believe there is something you are not telling us.”
“I assure you, my secrets are few,” he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he turned his gaze back to Marianne. “Though I do think some things are best left to be discovered in time.”
Marianne, in her spirited way, rolled her eyes and turned back to the view. Margaret, on the other hand, looked between us with a knowing grin, her youthful mind ever so quick to notice things others might overlook. I gave her a soft nudge, and she giggled, running ahead to explore a small cluster of wildflowers.
That evening, back at Barton Cottage, I found myself lost in thought. I could hardly focus on the book in my lap, my mind drifting back to the Colonel’s words on the hillside. Elinor, ever perceptive, noticed my distraction.
“Are you quite well, sister?” she asked, closing her own book and setting it aside. “You seem troubled.”
I hesitated for a moment. Elinor was always so sensible, so grounded in reality. “I am merely… contemplative, I suppose,” I replied. “I have been thinking about Colonel Brandon.”
Elinor raised an eyebrow, but her expression was gentle. “He is a thoughtful man, and I believe he holds you in high regard. It is only natural to think of him, given how often he is in our company these days.”
“Do you truly think so?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “That he holds me in high regard, I mean?”
Elinor smiled softly. “Yes, I do. I see the way he looks at you sometimes when he believes no one is watching. There is a certain tenderness there.”
My heart fluttered at her words, but I still felt uncertain. “I do not wish to be foolish,” I said quietly. “He is older and has known his share of heartbreak. I wonder if he could ever see me as… anything more.”
Elinor reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “You are kind and steady, and you see people as they truly are. If he does not see that, then he is a fool, which I do not believe he is.”
Her words offered some comfort, and I decided then to wait and see. I had no great expectations—only the smallest glimmer of hope that perhaps, in time, things might become clearer.
The weeks passed, and Colonel Brandon’s visits became more frequent. He brought with him a sense of calm that I found increasingly soothing. Sometimes, he would stay to read with us in the parlor, his low, steady voice filling the room with a quiet intimacy that made my heart ache in the loveliest of ways. At other times, he would invite us to walk, and though his steps often fell beside Marianne’s, his gaze would drift to me more often than not.
One evening, as we sat together after supper, he asked me a question that took me by surprise.
“Miss Dashwood, I have observed that you have a particular fondness for poetry,” he said, his voice low but clear. “Do you have a favorite poet?”
I looked up, startled that he had noticed something so personal about me. “I—I do, Colonel. I have always been drawn to Wordsworth. His verses speak of nature and the human spirit in a way that resonates deeply with me.”
He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “Wordsworth is indeed a master of capturing the beauty and complexity of life. Perhaps, one day, you would do me the honor of sharing some of your favorite passages.”
“I would be delighted,” I replied softly, my cheeks warming under his gaze.
Marianne, who had been listening, smiled broadly. “Oh, Colonel, you must hear my sister recite! She has a way with words, truly. You would be enraptured.”
I blushed deeply, but Colonel Brandon’s smile widened ever so slightly. “I have no doubt that I would be,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
As the days grew warmer, so too did my feelings for Colonel Brandon. I could no longer deny that my heart had grown quite attached to him, even if I could not be sure of his feelings in return. There were moments when I believed he saw me as more than just another Miss Dashwood, but I dared not hope too much.
One afternoon, as we walked back from Barton Park, Colonel Brandon lingered behind with me while the others walked ahead. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers, and the soft rustle of leaves filled the silence between us. I could feel the weight of something unsaid hanging in the air, and I found myself wanting to fill it.
“Colonel Brandon,” I began cautiously, “I have been thinking much on our conversations lately.”
He turned to me, his expression attentive. “And what conclusions have you come to, Miss Dashwood?”
I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. “Only that… I value them greatly. More than I had expected to.”
His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw something there—something warm and sincere. “I value them as well,” he said softly. “You have a quiet strength, Miss Dashwood. It is… a quality I have come to admire greatly.”
My breath caught in my throat. “You honor me with your words, Colonel,” I murmured. “Though I have done nothing to earn such praise.”
He shook his head. “On the contrary. You have earned far more than I can express. There is a grace in your manner, a kindness in your heart that speaks volumes.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Could it be that he truly saw me? That he valued me not just as a friend, but as something more?
Before I could find the courage to speak, Marianne called back to us, her voice breaking the moment. “Come along, you two! You are falling behind!”
We resumed our pace, but the silence that followed was no longer uncomfortable. It was filled with a new understanding, a new possibility.
It was a few days later when the opportunity for another conversation presented itself. Colonel Brandon arrived at Barton Cottage early, before any of the others were up and about. I was in the garden, tending to some of the late-blooming flowers, when I saw him approach.
“Good morning, Miss Dashwood,” he greeted me, a softness in his tone that sent a thrill through me.
“Good morning, Colonel,” I replied, brushing the dirt from my hands. “You are early today.”
He nodded, looking almost hesitant. “I hoped to speak with you alone, if I might.”
My heart began to race. “Of course,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He took a deep breath, and for a moment, he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Miss Dashwood,” he began, “I have found great comfort in your company these past weeks. You have shown me a kindness that I had thought lost to me. And I find myself… drawn to you in a way I had not expected.”
I could hardly breathe. “Colonel, I—”
He held up a hand, his expression earnest. “Please, allow me to finish. I know I am not a young man. I have lived through much, and I do not offer my heart lightly. But if you could ever see it in your own heart to care for me even a fraction of how I have come to care for you, I would be the most fortunate man.”
Tears filled my eyes as I listened to his words—words I had never dared to hope for. “Oh, Colonel,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You have seen me when I thought no one ever would. And I… I have come to care for you deeply, more than I ever thought possible.”
His face broke into a smile, the kind of smile that transformed his entire countenance, and he took a step closer. “Then, may I hope, Miss Dashwood, that we might find happiness together?”
As the days passed, I found myself growing closer to Colonel Brandon. Our conversations were filled with a warmth and understanding that I had never known before. He would visit Barton Cottage frequently, bringing with him a quiet sense of comfort and constancy that I had come to cherish. When we were alone or with Elinor, his attention was always on me—his gaze gentle, his words thoughtful. I could feel the beginnings of a deep bond forming between us, a connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.
But there was a change in Marianne—a shift in her demeanor that was impossible to ignore. She had always been the center of attention, the bright star that drew everyone’s gaze. Colonel Brandon had once been enthralled by her every word, her every movement. Yet now, his attentions had turned toward me, and though Marianne had been enamored with John Willoughby, I could see the flicker of jealousy in her eyes.
One afternoon, as we all sat in the small parlor at Barton Cottage, Marianne decided to play the piano. She chose a lively piece, one that she knew Colonel Brandon favored. She glanced at him often as she played, her eyes bright with a mixture of mischief and expectation. But though he listened politely, his attention kept drifting back to me, where I sat beside Elinor, quietly observing the scene unfold.
Marianne finished the piece with a flourish and turned to the Colonel, her smile wide. “What do you think, Colonel? Is it not a fine composition?”
He nodded, offering her a small smile. “Indeed, Miss Marianne, you play it with great spirit.”
She seemed dissatisfied with his restrained praise. “But you seem distracted, Colonel. Tell me, where are your thoughts this afternoon? Have they wandered far from this room?”
Colonel Brandon’s eyes flicked briefly to mine, and I felt my breath catch. “I assure you, Miss Marianne, I am very much present,” he replied. “But there is much to contemplate in such company.”
Marianne’s smile faltered slightly. She looked between the Colonel and me, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. “You have been most attentive to my sister lately, Colonel,” she said with a forced lightness. “I had thought your admiration was reserved for more… romantic sensibilities.”
Elinor, sensing the tension, interjected quickly. “Marianne, the Colonel has been a good friend to us all. There is no need to assign motives where there are none.”
But Marianne was not to be deterred. “Oh, I only jest, of course. It is all in good fun.”
I could feel my cheeks warming under her scrutiny. Colonel Brandon, however, remained calm and composed. “I assure you, Miss Marianne,” he said, his voice steady, “my admiration extends to all those whose company I enjoy.”
Marianne seemed unsatisfied with this answer, but she forced a smile nonetheless. I could see the hint of something sharp behind her eyes—a flicker of resentment that she tried to mask with a laugh.
From that moment on, her demeanor toward the Colonel changed subtly. She became more flirtatious, more eager to draw his attention back to herself. She would seek him out in conversation, touch his arm lightly when speaking to him, and laugh brightly at his every comment. It was as if she could not bear the thought of his gaze resting anywhere but on her.
One evening, as we prepared to walk back from Barton Park, Marianne pulled Colonel Brandon aside, leaving me standing with Elinor and Margaret. I watched them from a distance, trying to quell the rising tide of insecurity within me. Elinor, ever perceptive, noticed my unease.
“She does not mean to be cruel,” Elinor said quietly. “She is simply unused to sharing attention. It will pass.”
I nodded, trying to smile, but my heart felt heavy. “I only hope she understands that I would never wish to come between her and someone she cares for.”
Elinor squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Colonel Brandon is not Willoughby, nor is he someone to be swayed by fleeting affections. Trust in his character, sister.”
I tried to take comfort in her words, but the doubt lingered.
It was not long after this that an unexpected letter arrived at Barton Cottage, bearing the unmistakable seal of my brother, John Dashwood. The contents were brief and to the point: he and Fanny would be visiting in a week’s time, bringing with them “important news” regarding my future.
Elinor read the letter aloud to our mother, who immediately grew anxious. “What could they possibly want now?” she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.
“I can hardly imagine it is anything good,” I replied quietly, already feeling a sense of foreboding.
When John and Fanny arrived, it was as though a cold wind had blown through the cottage. Fanny swept into the room with her usual air of superiority, her eyes scanning the modest furnishings with thinly veiled disdain. John, though more subdued, still carried himself with a certain aloofness that made it clear he considered himself above our current situation.
“Ah, dear sister,” John said with a strained smile, “how… quaint it is here.”
I forced a smile in return. “We have made it quite comfortable, thank you.”
Fanny wasted no time in getting to the point. “My dear, we have come to bring you some wonderful news,” she said, her voice dripping with false cheer. “John has taken it upon himself to find a suitable match for you, as it is his duty as your brother. And you shall be leaving with us for London in a week’s time to meet your future husband.”
The words hit me like a blow. “A suitable match?” I echoed, struggling to keep my voice steady. “But I have not—”
“Of course, you have not met him yet,” Fanny interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “But he is a most respectable gentleman, with a fine income and a comfortable estate. You shall be well provided for, and we have already made the necessary arrangements.”
Elinor’s eyes flashed with anger. “And what if my sister does not wish to marry this man?”
Fanny’s smile was tight and condescending. “Elinor, dear, it is not a matter of what she wishes. It is a matter of what is best for her. And John, as her guardian, has decided this is best.”
I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. I had no say in this decision, and they knew it.
Colonel Brandon, who had come to call just as the conversation took a darker turn, stood in the doorway, his face a mask of quiet concern. He had clearly heard enough to understand the gravity of the situation. His eyes met mine, and I saw the turmoil there—the unspoken question of what he should do.
That evening, as we sat by the fire, Colonel Brandon pulled John aside for a private word. I watched them from a distance, my heart in my throat, as the Colonel spoke with my brother in low, earnest tones.
“Mr. Dashwood,” I heard him say, “I understand your intentions toward your sister are, perhaps, well-meaning, but I must speak on her behalf.”
John looked startled. “On her behalf? And who are you to speak for her, Colonel?”
“A friend,” he replied, his voice steady. “A friend who believes she deserves the right to choose her own future.”
John’s expression shifted, growing defensive. “I am her brother, her guardian. It is my duty to see her well settled. And the match I have found for her is more than adequate.”
Colonel Brandon’s eyes darkened. “With all due respect, a match is more than adequate when it is chosen with the heart in mind. Your sister deserves more than an arrangement; she deserves happiness.”
John scoffed. “And you believe you know what will make her happy?”
There was a long pause. “I would hope to know her well enough to understand what she needs,” Colonel Brandon said quietly. “And I would ask that you allow her the choice to stay.”
John’s face hardened. “Colonel, I appreciate your concern, but this is a family matter. She will come with us to London, and that is final.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Colonel Brandon standing there, his expression troubled. I watched him, my heart aching with gratitude and frustration. He had tried—tried to speak for me, to stand against the forces that sought to control my fate. But it seemed all for naught.
Later that night, as the household settled into uneasy silence, Colonel Brandon asked to speak with me alone. We stepped out into the moonlit garden, the cool night air brushing against my skin.
“I am sorry,” he began, his voice low and filled with regret. “I tried to reason with your brother, but he is determined. I fear I have only made matters worse.”
“You have done more than anyone else would have,” I replied, my voice trembling. “You have shown me a kindness I did not think possible, and for that, I am grateful.”
He took a step closer, his eyes searching mine. “If you wish it, I would go to London myself. I would speak with this gentleman your brother has chosen and make it clear that your heart is not free to be given.”
My breath caught in my throat. “You would do that for me?”
He nodded, his expression earnest. “I would do anything to see you happy, even if it means letting you go.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I do not wish to go to London. I do not wish to meet this man. I wish to stay here, with you… and with my family.”
79 notes · View notes
besotted-with-austen · 5 months ago
Text
Colonel Brandon: Miss Dashwood, I have heard from Sir John Middleton that your sister is-not well.
Elinor Dashwood: *deep sigh* you heard right.
Colonel Brandon: *forced calm* it was because of Mr Willoughby, was it not?
Elinor Dashwood: *even deeper sigh* Marianne-we have found out that he is to be married to Miss Grey.
Colonel Brandon: I see. I am deeply sorry to give you more pain, but it is necessary that I inform you that she is crying for someone that did not exist in the first place.
Elinor Dashwood: *apprehensively* what do you mean?
Colonel Brandon: *deep breath* it is not easy for me to talk about this as it involves others other than me and I did not want to share it, but I feel this must be healthy for Miss Marianne to know-
~~~Later~~~
John Willoughby: El-Miss Dashwood! I have heard from that unsufferable Sir John that Marianne is on the point of death!
Elinor Dashwood: *deep sigh* that was true-as for now, she is stable.
John Willoughby: *forced calm* oh! Good. I am so-I am so relieved. It wasn't-it was not-does she hate me, Miss Dashwood? Do you all hate me?
Elinor Dashwood: *even deeper sigh* we do not hate you, Mr Willoughby.
John Willoughby: I see! This is not going to be pleasant, but I need to defend myself from the slander Brandon and everyone spread about me-
Elinor Dashwood: *coolly* what do you mean?
John Willoughby: *deep breath* it is not easy for me to talk about as it does not paint me in a very good light and I did not want to share it, but I feel it is only right that Marianne has the whole story-
21 notes · View notes
thatscarletflycatcher · 3 months ago
Text
Inspired by @kajaono's post the other day about Victoria Hamilton, JLM and Austen adaptations, have a list of the actors that have been in at least 2 Austen adaptations:
Hat trickers:
Victoria Hamilton played Henrietta Musgrove in Persuasion (1995), Julia Bertram in Mansfield Park (1999), and Mrs. Foster in Pride and Prejudice (1995)
Johnny Lee Miller played one of Fanny's brothers in Mansfield Park (1983), Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park (1999), and Mr. Knightley in Emma (2009).
Doubles:
Joanna David played Elinor Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility 1972; she also played Mrs. Gardiner in Pride and Prejudice (1995)
Samantha Bond played Maria Bertram in Mansfield Park (1983); she later on played Mrs. Weston in Emma (ITV, 1996)
Bernard Hepton played Sir Thomas Bertram in Mansfield Park (1983); he later on played Mr. Woodhouse in Emma (ITV, 1996)
Sylvestra Latouzel played Fanny Price in Mansfield Park (1983); she later on played Mrs. Allen in Northanger Abbey (2007)
Nicholas Farrell played Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park (1983); he later on played Mr. Musgrove in Persuasion (2007)
Irene Richard played Charlotte Lucas in Pride and Prejudice (1980); she then played Elinor Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility (1981)
Robert Hardy played General Tilney in Northanger Abbey (1987); he later on played Sir John Middleton in Sense and Sensibility (1995)
Sophie Thompson played Mary Musgrove in Persuasion (1995), and then the following year she played Miss Bates in Emma (Miramax, 1996)
Kate Beckinsale played Emma Woodhouse in Emma (1996); later on she played Lady Susan in Love and Friendship (2016)
Blake Ritson played Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park (2007) and later on Mr. Elton in Emma (2009)
Jemma Redgrave played Lady Bertram in Mansfield Park (2007); she later on played Mrs. DeCourcy in Love and Friendship (2016)
Lucy Robinson played Mrs. Hurst in Pride and Prejudice (1995); the following year she played Mrs. Elton in Emma (ITV, 1996)
Carey Mulligan played Kitty Bennet in Pride & Prejudice (2005) and then Isabella Thorpe in Northanger Abbey (2007)
Lucy Briers played Mary Bennet in Pride and Prejudice (1995); she also played a minor role as Mrs. Reynolds in Emma (2020)
If we include Austen-adjacent pieces:
Hat tricks:
Hugh Bonneville played Mr. Rushworth in Mansfield Park (1999) and later on played Rev. Brook Bridges in Miss Austen Regrets (2007) and then Mr. Bennet in Lost in Austen (2008)
Doubles:
Olivia Williams played Jane Fairfax in Emma (ITV, 1996); she later on played Jane Austen in Miss Austen Regrets (2007)
Also, Greta Scacchi played Mrs. Weston in Emma (Miramax, 1996) and went on to play Cassandra Austen in Miss Austen Regrets (2007)
Guy Henry played John Knightley in Emma (ITV, 1996), and later on played Mr. Collins in Lost in Austen (2008)
Christina Cole played Caroline Bingley in Lost in Austen (2008) and then Mrs. Elton in Emma (2009)
Anna Maxwell Martin played Cassandra Austen in Becoming Jane (2009), and then went on to play Elizabeth Bennet in Death Comes to Pemberley (2014)
JJ Feild played Mr. Tilney in Northanger Abbey (2007) and later on played Mr. Nobley in Austenland (2014)
If we include radiodramas/radioplays:
Hat tricks:
Blake Ritson gets it as he played Colonel Brandon in the 2010 S&S radio drama
Doubles:
Amanda Root played Anne Elliot in Persuasion (1995); she also played Fanny Price in the 1997 radio drama for Mansfield Park
Felicity Jones also played Fanny in the 2003 radio drama for Mansfield Park, and later on played Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey (2007)
Robert Glenister played Captain Harville in Persuasion (1995); he also played Edmund Bertram in the 1997 radio drama for Mansfield Park
Amanda Hale played Mary Musgrove in Persuasion (2007) and later on Elinor Dashwood in the 2010 radio drama for Sense and Sensibility.
David Bamber played Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice (1995); he later on played Mr. Elton in the 2000 radio drama for Emma
Robert Bathurst played Mr. Knightley in the same adaptation of Emma; later on he played Mr. Weston in Emma (2009)
Also in that adaptation, Tom Hollander played Frank Churchill; he later on played Mr. Collins in Pride & Prejudice (2005)
Juliet Stevenson played Anne Elliot in the 1986 radio drama for Persuasion; later on she played Mrs. Elton in Emma (Miramax, 1996)
And I'm very likely still forgetting someone.
60 notes · View notes
hitchell-mope · 3 months ago
Text
He lives in his own little world doesn’t he?
0 notes
firawren · 29 days ago
Text
Jane Austen crack poll: Halloween edition
Halloween is my favorite holiday. Which Austen characters do you think would also love Halloween? I'm excluding Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney from this poll because it's boring when there's a correct answer.
If you like, reblog and share what their favorite Halloween activity is.
42 notes · View notes
world-of-wales · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
─ •✧ CATHERINE'S YEAR IN REVIEW : FEBRUARY ✧• ─
1 FEBRUARY - Catherine appeared in a video for Shaping Us Campaign.
2 FEBRUARY - Catherine appeared in a video with Roman Kemp as part of the Shaping Us Campaign.
4 FEBRUARY - Kensington Palace released a childhood photo of Catherine with Michael Middleton for the Shaping Us Campaign.
5 FEBRUARY - She visited St. John's Primary School to mark the start of Children's Mental Health Week 2023.
8 FEBRUARY - Catherine was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Derbyshire (Mrs. Elizabeth Fothergill) as she visited Landau Forte College along with Captain Harpreet Chandi.
9 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Cornwall (Colonel Edward Bolitho) at the National Maritime Museum Falmouth in Discovery Quay. Afterwards, they visited the Dracaena Centre.
19 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William attended the British Academy Film Awards at the Royal Festival Hall where and were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Greater London (Sir Kenneth Olisa).
21 FEBRUARY - She was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of the Royal County of Berkshire (Mr. James Puxley) at the Oxford House Nursing Home in Slough.
22 FEBRUARY - Catherine held an Early Years Meeting.
23 FEBRUARY - Catherine received Mr. Ian Hewitt (Chairman, AELTCC ) at Windsor Castle. Subsequently, she received Major General Christopher Ghika and Lieutenant Colonel James Aldridge (Regimental Lieutenant Colonel & Commanding Officer) of the Irish Guards.
25 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William met the volunteers and staff of the Welsh Rugby Charitable Trust and attended the Six Nations Rugby Match between Wales and England at the Principality Stadium in Cardiff. They were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of South Glamorgan (Mrs. Morfudd Meredith).
28 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of West Glamorgan (Mrs. Louise Fleet) at Brynawel House Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Centre in Pontyclun. Afterwards, they visited Aberavon Celtic Leisure Centre, where His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Mid Glamorgan (Mr. Peter Vaughan) received them. Subsequently, they were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Dyfed (Miss Sara Edwards) as they opened the new patient room at Wales Air Ambulance in Dafen.
68 notes · View notes