Sense and Sensibility (The Wild and Wanton Edition) Read Online Free Page A

encouraged the intimacy from motives of interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother. But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either consideration. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned the partiality. It also did not go unnoticed that Edward was the complete opposite of his dreadful sister in every way — where she was crude, he was erudite; where she was ostentatious, he was mild-mannered; where she was selfish, he was kind. Mrs. Dashwood knew that when Mr. Ferrars married, he would never take up the uncouth behaviours that came so easily to his sister. Mrs. Dashwood knew that Edward was the perfect man for her Elinor. It was contrary to every doctrine of her’s that difference of fortune should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of disposition; and that Elinor’s merit should not be acknowledged by every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible. Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any peculiar graces of person or address. To most, he was not handsome, and his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was too diffident to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart. His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid improvement. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed to see him distinguished as — they hardly knew what. They wanted him to make a fine figure in the world in some manner or other. His mother wished to interest him in political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to see him connected with some of the great men of the day. Mrs. John Dashwood wished it likewise; but in the mean while, till one of these superior blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her ambition to see him driving a barouche. But Edward had no turn for great men or barouches. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort and the quiet of private life. Fortunately he had a younger brother who was more promising.
    But though by most people’s standards Edward Ferrars was nothing exceptional, to Elinor, he was perfect. The handsomest, kindest, most wonderful man she had ever known.
    The two began spending more and more time together, going on walks alone and taking their tea together in the garden, away from prying eyes and ears. They discussed everything — politics, literature, religion, dreams for the future — and found they were alike in nearly every way. Elinor drew for him, and he admired and complimented her work with such fervor it was as if she were Leonardo da Vinci himself.
    Elinor lay awake in bed at night, listening to the nightly antics of her brother and his wife (who, since Edward’s arrival, had taken to entertaining themselves only in the evenings), and found herself wondering less about what it would be like to have a husband to do those sorts of things with and dreaming more about doing those things with Edward — with or without a marriage proposal. He made her feel differently than she’d ever felt before, made her consider doing things she’d never before considered. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to have him touch and taste her in all her most intimate places, to graze her own mouth and fingers against his muscled torso.
    The desire to all of these things — and more — grew each day that she walked along side him and with each night that she felt the house shake with John and Fanny’s lovemaking. Her need for Edward became so great that one evening, under the warmth and protection of her bedclothes, she succumbed to the aching want and began to explore her own body. Cautiously at first,