Murder at Mansfield Park

"You were more than half to blame," she said, advancing towards Mary. "If it had not been for you, and that blackguard brother of yours, they would be married by now. Once Rushworth was out of the way I thought everything would return to how it should be, but oh no. Your contemptible brother resorted to the most vile arts, to the most depraved, wicked contrivances to lure her away — "

"But even if that were true," interrupted Mary, "it is not important now, not at this moment. We must act quickly to help Edmund or we will both lose him. Please, Mrs Norris — he has taken laudanum — a very great deal of laudanum — "

"I know exactly what he has taken, and I know better than you can do what the consequences will be."

Mary took a step back, hardly knowing what she did. It occurred to her, for the first time, that Mrs Norris did not look quite her usual self; there was an involuntary twitch under one eye, and she seemed to be labouring to catch her breath.

"It was you," said Mary slowly, as the horrifying truth flooded her mind. "All of this — from the beginning — was your doing."

"You need not look so shocked, Miss Crawford. You are a woman of spirit yourself; indeed, it is the single admirable quality you possess. Do not try to pretend to me that you are not capable of resolution and premeditation in the pursuit of what you desire. I have seen you at it every day for months."

"So it was you who tampered with Mr Gilbert’s cordial." "I could not risk the girl waking up and accusing me. I could not be sure what she had seen. As soon as Gilbert told me that she might make a full recovery, I knew what I must do."

"And you are now prepared to do the same to your own son?"

Mrs Norris’s face became hard and closed. "He

is no child of mine. And in any case, it will be better thus. I do not know what you said to him at the belvedere, but when he returned he was like a man possessed. I tried to explain, but he would not listen. He was out of the house before I could stop him, and straight to that odious ruffian, Maddox. But I need not tell you, that any sort of trial is completely out of the question. Even to contemplate that a son of my dear late husband’s — a Norris — might be paraded through the streets of Northampton to the jeers of the common rabble — it is in every way unthinkable. This way it will all be hushed up, and soon everyone will have forgotten that anything ever happened."

"Forgotten? How can the Bertrams ever forget their daughter? How will any of us forget what happened to Fanny? And to resort to such

violence — I saw what you did to her, and the memory of it sickens me."

"As to that, I will admit to falling prey to a momentary impulse — a mere freak of temper. She wrote to me, you know, flaunting her patched-up marriage — rejoicing in the fact that I would probably succumb to an apoplexy when I discovered the name of her husband. Congratulating herself for having escaped Edmund — and the next moment stating that she was even more thankful to have escaped me. Me! Do you know what I have done for that girl all these years? Petted and cosseted and brought her forward, day after day, even at the expense of my sister Bertram’s children. And all for nothing — nothing! And when I met her that morning she threw it all in my face — with such pleasure — such malicious enjoyment of my ignominy and humiliation."

"And did she take an equal delight in your imminent ruin?" said Mary quietly.

"What’s that?" snapped Mrs Norris.

"My brother saw parts of that letter, Mrs Norris. I know that Mrs Crawford referred to your very great need of money — her money. That was the real reason why you were so keen on the marriage, was it not? It had nothing to do with your son’s happiness, and everything to do with her vast fortune. It was not the family honour that my brother destroyed, but your own hopes of ever rectifying your perilous financial position. All your scrimping and penny-pinching, they were real enough, but this house, your style of life, it was all a sham — a blind.There is no money, is there, Mrs Norris? It has all gone."

Everything was clear to Mary now: even the smallest elements of the riddle had found their true place. "Indeed, it was not merely insults she threw in your face, was it? I have wondered from the start why she had no purse when she was found, but now I think I understand. She actually dared to offer you money.Was that not the final insult? To receive a few miserable shillings from someone who had robbed you of so much, and sealed your ruin? And yet you were so desperate for money, that you kept it, little as it was."

"How dare you stand there and talk to me in such a fashion! What can you possibly know of such things?"