What Ought to have been

by MJ Stratton

Dear Readers, I am happy to host a returning author, MJ Stratton, and her new S&S variation. I am so glad an author has finally taken a new view on Sense and Sensibility, – especially the drama and secrecy between Elinor and Lucy.

Book Blurb

Retribution belongs to God, and I am ill-equipped to carry it out in His place.

~Elinor Dashwood

Before leaving Norland forever, Elinor Dashwood forms an attachment to Edward Ferrars. Her tender regard remains constant when the four Dashwood ladies remove to Devonshire, taking up residence at Barton Cottage. Elinor’s hopes for the future are shattered when she unwillingly becomes the confidante of Lucy Steele, learning that Lucy has been betrothed to Edward for four years.

However, Lucy fails to secure Elinor’s vow of secrecy. When Marianne finds Elinor in her misery, the sisters share confidences, leading Marianne to compare Edward’s honorable conduct with that of John Willoughby. Her musings lead to some startling revelations, igniting a spark of defiance within her.

Determined to right the wrongs done to her and her beloved family, Marianne takes matters into her own hands. While Elinor may be ill-equipped to exact God’s retribution, Marianne is not. Armed with determination and resolve, Marianne Dashwood sets out to achieve her aims by any means necessary. But can she complete her journey without losing herself in the process?

Told from both Marianne and Elinor’s points of view, What Ought to Have Been is a Sense and Sensibility variation that ensures all the story’s villains receive their just desserts.

Excerpt: In this excerpt, Marianne encounters her sister in the midst of her heartbreak!

The afternoon at Barton Park seemed to drag on, and at long last, the carriage was ordered to return the Dashwoods to the cottage. Marianne stared through the window in silence. It was not yet dark, and when they arrived, she voiced a desire to stroll a while before coming inside. Mama nodded, and Marianne meandered off.

Losing track of time, when she became aware that the sky had grown dark with clouds, she returned to the house, depositing her cloak and bonnet on the pegs inside the door. Intent on retrieving a book from her chamber, she wandered upstairs. Marianne pushed the door open and noticed the prone figure lying on the bed.

It was Elinor, her face buried in a pillow, her shoulders shaking as she deeply wept. So shocked was Marianne at seeing her stalwart sister thus, that she remained frozen, her astonishment lingering. 

When she was over her little shock, Marianne closed the door quietly and moved to her sister’s side. Her loving heart was overwhelmed with compassion, and she pushed aside her own troubles in favor of helping her.

“Elinor?” she asked softly. 

Her sister startled, and Marianne realized Elinor had not heard her enter the room. She sat up, and Marianne saw that her eyes, puffy and red, still held tears. “Marianne,” Elinor sniffed. “You startled me.” “I am sorry,” she said contritely. She settled on the bed next to her sister. “Can I help? What is the matter?” Marianne did not think Elinor would speak.

Her sister was reserved and kept her feelings well-hidden much of the time. But Elinor surprised her by bursting into tears and throwing her arms around her.

“It hurts so much!” she sobbed into Marianne’s shoulder. “I did not think it was possible, and I do not know what to do to stop it.” Marianne’s arms went around her sister instinctively as she tried to decipher what she meant. “I do not understand.”

Elinor pulled away. “How do you bear it? How do you bear Mr. Willoughby’s absence?”

Marianne thought she understood what Elinor meant; she believed her sister was missing Edward, the man who had stolen her heart, though she could be wrong. What Elinor felt was often a mystery.

“I do not know how to reply,” Marianne answered lamely. 

Elinor swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “At least things are settled between the two of you. I have no such hope.” She sniffed.

“What do you mean?” Marianne asked curiously. No, things were not settled between her and Willoughby, but she ignored that as she tried to comprehend the source of Elinor’s distress.

Her sister burst into a new wave of tears, turning to bury her face in a pillow once more. Marianne remained still, unsure what to do or say; it was disconcerting to witness her sister in such distress. Elinor was not known to cry—to express her emotions—or so Marianne had once thought. Always prudence, resignation, dignity. That was her sister’s way.

When Elinor’s tears ceased, she sat up. “I ought not to say anything,” she said morosely. “Though no vow of silence was given, I am certain it was expected, considering the nature the information imparted to me. But I cannot bear the pain alone. It grieves me deeply.”

Marianne was perplexed. “Whatever are you talking about?” Elinor was not making anything clear.

“Edward is engaged,” her sister choked out, “to Lucy Steele.”

Marianne gasped. “No,” she said breathlessly, shock rippling through her. “It is not possible. He loves you.”

Elinor shook her head. “He has never said so. Nor has he made any promises to me.”

“But his intentions were plain to all at Norland!” Marianne protested fervently. “And he visited us for two weeks.”

 “Edward behaved with nothing more than politeness toward us.” Still her sister attempted to deny what was clear to Marianne.

“Nonsense! He singled you out at Norland, and then you spent an inordinate amount of time in each other’s company when he was here in November. You cannot possibly expect me to believe that he has no feelings for you.”

“I do not know what to believe,” Elinor admitted. “I had thought that, given time, we would have the opportunity to find happiness together. But Miss Lucy’s prior claims have ruined all my hopes.” “What a brute!” Marianne said passionately, standing up to pace in agitation.

“He has toyed with your emotions in an abominable way. You had every expectation of a proposal. Indeed, even Mama assumed he would do so, despite Fanny’s warnings to the contrary. How could he do it? How could he ignite such feelings of regard and then leave you thus?”

“I believe he tried to warn me about Miss Lucy before he was called away from Norland all those months ago. I now feel certain he meant to put me on my guard then, but was interrupted before he could do so. No, my feelings are my own; my hopes and dreams are the creation of idle fancies spurred on by the courtesy of an honorable man.”

Marianne was about to argue her point but paused, thinking back to the occasions that Edward had spent with her family. Yes, he had accompanied Elinor to local engagements, speaking to her kindly and she to him, but his behavior could be construed by others as that of a family friend, or attributed to their connection through marriage. Edward had never shown overtly romantic behavior to Elinor and had, indeed, only behaved honorably and circumspectly as he had come to know her. Marianne could hardly call such temperate affections as courting; therefore, her sister’s supposition made a modicum of sense.

She could not help comparing Willoughby’s behavior to that which had been exhibited by Edward. Willoughby had made no secret of his regard. He had claimed a lock of her hair, taken her on outings in his curricle with no chaperone. He had even showed her Allenham, the estate he was to inherit, taking her there without escort or permission from Lady Allen.

Willoughby had written her letters, secreting them in a hollow tree, and she had replied. He had requested a private audience, leading her to assume that he would propose marriage to her. And then, he had left her with no explanation, no hint of when he would return. Worse still, according to Lady Middleton’s sister, Mrs. Palmer had imparted that word of their supposed engagement was being circulated in Town.

“Oh, Elinor,” Marianne moaned, sinking back onto the bed. “I think I am in dreadful trouble.” Elinor looked at her curiously. “Why?” she asked.

“I am not engaged.”

“What?” Elinor asked, shock in her voice. “But…”

“I know.” Marianne moaned again, lying back on the bed and covering her eyes with her arm. “This… information you have just disclosed has brought to mind the stark contrasts between Edward and Willoughby, and I am afraid I have now come to some unsettling realizations.”

Marianne told her sister of the conversation she and Willoughby had shared that fateful day. “So, you see,” she said, “we have no understanding. He has gone, and I now believe he has no intention of coming back.” Elinor regarded her solemnly. “What of the rumors in London?” 

“I know not from whence they come, nor what to do about them. They gave me hope that he would return, for who else could be spreading news of our engagement but Willoughby?” “So, Mama was wrong,” Elinor said slowly. “You are not engaged. He will not return for you.” Marianne pushed herself up, feeling her own eyes begin to prickle with unshed tears. “What am I to do? What are we to do?”

“Console each other as best we can, I suppose,” Elinor sniffed. “Edward is now beyond my reach. Even if he loves me, he cannot set Miss Lucy aside. He would never be so callous, and he is far too honorable to behave in such a manner. And if you are correct, Willoughby will not be back to claim your hand.”

“The injustice is not to be borne!” Marianne said heatedly. “Why should we suffer for the inconstancy of the other sex?” “Edward has been quite constant in his attentions,” Elinor protested. “Though I admit, we cannot say the same for Willoughby.” “No, we cannot. He has used me most abominably, and I will never forgive him.” At least she and her sister could agree on something.

“Do you suppose your new enlightenment will aid you in returning to your usual, amiable self?” Elinor asked, a light tease in her voice. Marianne smiled weakly, considering. “I believe it shall. How will you bear it, though? How cruelly you have been treated by fate, to be deprived of your love because of honor. Why can you not have your happy ever after?” “I would never ask Edward to choose between me and his honor,” Elinor responded with intensity. “Part of the reason I love him is because he is so honorable. To withdraw his promise to Miss Lucy would, I think, greatly diminish my esteem for him.”

Marianne considered Elinor’s words and was forced to concede the point. While she did harbor reservations about Edward inadvertently raising her sister’s expectations, she could not fault him for adhering to proper behavior. In contrast, Willoughby appeared as a villain now, having intentionally misled Marianne and everyone else into believing he was courting the second Miss Dashwood with the intention of marrying her.

“The ring,” she said slowly, a new realization coming to her. “Edward’s ring with the lock of hair… It is Miss Lucy’s is it not?” Elinor nodded.

“He lied to us, then,” Marianne said triumphantly. She felt a bit self-satisfied in finding a chink in the armor Elinor had placed around Edward.

Elinor shrugged. “Yes, he did. I have yet to reason away that particular deception.”

“So, you intend to forgive him?” 

“Yes,” she replied. “Lack of compassion and forgiveness breeds bitterness, regret, and anger. I have no wish to let such hardness of heart poison me.”

“Where is your righteous indignation? Where is your wish for retribution for the wrongs done to us?” Marianne wished to shout but kept her tone low so as to not be overheard.

“It is there, I assure you, but retribution belongs to God, and I am ill-equipped to carry it out in His place.”

Elinor stood. “Come,” she said wearily. “Let us ready for bed.” Marianne complied with no further remark.

Much later, Marianne lay in bed next to her sleeping sister, mulling over all that had been revealed. Her bruised heart reminded her of Willoughby’s ill-use, and gradually, she came to the realization that if he had ever loved her, he surely had not loved her enough to pledge himself. Instead, it was very possible he had ruined her reputation beyond repair, both in Devonshire and in Town. And while she thought many of society’s rules to be nonsensical and pointless, she knew that a loss of reputation was a disaster, for her and for her sisters.

In an instant, she was furious. The tender feelings for Willoughby hardened into a seething anger, and as she considered her conversation with Elinor regarding righteous indignation and retribution, the beginnings of an idea began to stir in her mind.              A cruel twist of fate had separated Elinor from Edward, and though Marianne was certain the gentleman loved her sister, she could not approve of his prevarication. 

Willoughby, on the other hand, had abused Marianne’s trust abominably, and had left her to bear the shame and scorn of her neighbors once they learned the truth of the matter.

The righteous anger of which she had spoken rose inside her once more, replacing the ache of her broken heart with steely determination. She vowed to exact her revenge on every person who had inflicted pain upon her and her family. 

Elinor may be ill-equipped to carry out God’s retribution, she mused, but I am not.

REVIEW;

An S&S variation that opens as the Dashwood’s leave Norland Park, where sensible and reserved Elinor confines in her sister, Marianne about the secret that Lucy Steele confided to her – about the engagement between her and Edward Ferrars.
Instead of resignation and reserve as seen in Austen’s original work, Marianne decides to take action against the people who have wronged her family, particularly her sister.
Soon Marianne courts the friendship of Anne Steele to figure out what to do about the tragic relationship between Elinor and Edward, – and Marianne also sets her sights on making herself agreeable to Mrs Ferrars, all the while she nurses her own broken heart, after the abandonment of Willoughby.

Our heroines see much more luck and success in this “set things right” or redemption story as MJ calls her stories. Soon Marianne has events planned to her satisfaction, while Elinor reclines into melancholy.

The further I read this excellent book, the more I noticed that MJ has been using several lines from other Austen books within her text, which was a stroke of genius! And as happiness is within grasp – death tries to make a grasp for one of our heroines.
But I will promise an excellent book, with many differences from Miss Austen’s original work, many twists and turns later I was in near tears as happiness was finally reached.

AUTHOR BIO;

MJ Stratton is a long-time lover of Jane Austen and her works, having been introduced to Pride and Prejudice by a much-beloved aunt at the age of sixteen. The subsequent discovery of Austenesque fiction sealed her fate. After beta reading and editing for others for nearly a decade, MJ started publishing her own work in 2022. MJ balances being a wife and mother with writing, gardening, sewing, and many other favorite pastimes. She lives with her husband and four children in the small, rural town where she grew up.

GIVEAWAY TIME!!

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