Revision of Dumas Scene

The first Dumas scene I’ve told from Mercedes POV.

What I wanted was to race to the docks. What Fernand wanted was to talk to me. I was caught. I started to pick at a bundle of flowers, casting the petals onto the floor. Fernand sat in my chair and balanced himself on the back two legs. He loves me, he loves me not, flitted through my mind. It was a nervous reaction. I did not want to have this conversation yet again.

“Do you really believe that the time is right for a wedding?” he asked me, “now that Easter is upon us again? (WHAT IS WITH THIS? HISTORICAL STUFF???)

“We’ve talked about this,” I said. I could feel my temper rising up to my throat, and I pushed it back down. “You are your own worst enemy to raise this topic with me one more time.”

“I don’t believe that you will do it!” he said. “Tell me again, a hundred times, a million times that you refuse my love! Nothing would make our family happier than you marrying me! Make me understand why you would take away something that I have dreamed of nearly all my life! Make me understand why you refuse me for him! I have no reason to live without you! My life or death no longer matter! Make me understand that you can discard me, that you can discard our life long friendship, more, for some Frenchman you’ve just met. Tell me again, and I will believe you!”

“I do not know how I can make you understand what I have been telling you over and over for the last few months. I love Edmond. I will never be able to give you my heart. I admire you and I am very grateful for your love and friendship, but you are a brother to me, not a lover. I will never feel that way about you, ever. Do you understand me? I don’t know how to make this clearer to you!”

“You have been clear,” he said. “Cruelly frank, as a matter of fact. What I don’t understand is how you can marry a man who is from Marseilles, not a Catalan. You know we stay with our own kind.”

“We often stay with our own kind, but it is not a law,” I said. “Let’s move this conversation away from myself and Edmond, shall we? You are leaving, I believe, any time. You have joined the army, and they have let you wait for as long as they could, at the request of your father who needs you, but even you must go, and you want to go! And then, what would happen to me if I were your wife? You would leave me here with nothing, not the strength of your support, with nothing. What prospect do I have as the wife of an army officer who no longer fishes? Am I to be a burden on my family forever? Am I to continue to be a charity case, even though my husband should be a man that helps ease my family’s burden? I have appreciated your kindness for what it is, but what makes you think that I want to depend on the charity of you, your mother, and your father forever? I want to make my way in the world with a partner that is my equal, that will be here with me as I work and support myself from the sweat of my own brow, the fruits of my own labor!”

“Mercedes,” he said, “I have never minded supporting you, and neither have my parents. We want you to rely on us. As for me, relying on you, I admire you, but you are good enough for me. I only want a wife to be faithful and to help me manage my affairs, and to help me raise a family. You are the woman I know best suited to that.”

“You can not change the fact that I love another man. What kind of wife would I be to you if I continued to love another man? I could not, would not promise you faithfulness, which I believe is the cornerstone of all marriages. You will have to be content with my friendship, only that. I have nothing else for you.”

He had not heard me. “I also know,” he said tentatively, “that you are afraid of making me poor. I would improve for you! I will return from the army, and I will work harder than I have ever worked before! We can save money once I become rich from fishing. I could be a clerk and eventually a trader. You will see! We would lack for nothing!”

“You could do no such thing, Fernand. You are a soldier and could only stay in the Catalans if there were no war. A fisherman is a good job while you wait. All of these castles in the air do not matter. I can only give you my friendship, nothing more.”

He lowered the chair to the floor with a thump. “Well, then, how about this? Why don’t I become a sailor. I’ll wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket with an anchor on the buttons. That will make you happy, no doubt.”

“Of all the ludicrous, foolish, idiotic things to say!” I was tired of trying to be polite. “I have no idea why you think doing something such as that would help your cause.”

“I wondered if you were attracted to the uniform,” he said, his eyes flashing. “Have you considered that maybe your sailor is making propositions to some woman somewhere else? Or maybe he hasn’t returned, because the sea has swallowed him. What do you think of that?”

“I think you are small and petty minded, that is what I think! How dare you? I have no doubts about how much Edmond loves me, but you! I used to think you cared about me, but I see now that you only care about yourself! If the sea were to have taken Edmond, I know that he would have died absolutely faithful to me!”

Fernand jumped up, knocking over the chair. He gritted his teeth and kicked the table. “I’ll kill him!” he shouted.

“Will you?” I shook my finger in his face. “Yes, that will make me love you, no doubt! Would you be happy if you made me hate you? Because you are making me hate you!” Then I was suddenly struck by what he said. January had been stormy. “You don’t really think that something has happened to him, do you?” I shouldn’t have listened to him, but I was worried, panicked suddenly. What would my life be without Edmond? Tears burned down my cheeks.

Fernand started pacing, obvious conflict fighting inside of him. He stopped in front of me suddenly. “Then you love him? You don’t love me? Say it. Say it!”

“I love Edmond Dantes,” I said. “There is no one else for me. No one else will ever be my husband. No one else completes me. No one else is my equal.”

“And you will always love him?”

“As long as I live.”

Fernand groaned, his head falling forward. I wondered if he would cry. Suddenly, like renewed hope, his eyes flashed.

“But if he is dead—” he said.

“If he is dead, I’ll die.”

“If he has forgotten you—”

I was about to curse him again for his callous words. Then I heard the sweetest sound, the sound that made me forget all my fears. I opened the door and there he was. Edmond stood outside, and he came in. I threw myself in his arms and we kissed. “I love you,” he said. “It’s so good to be back.”

“I’ve missed you,” I said.

“I love you,” I said. “Welcome back.”

“Your family?”

“Fine. My aunt can’t wait for the wedding.”

“I can’t wait for the wedding!”

I laughed and kissed him. “Can’t you?”

Edmond pulled away from me. “I’m very sorry,” he apologized to Fernand. “I didn’t know that there was someone else here. Mercedes, who is this?”

Fernand had sunk back into his chair. His hands stopped on the knife he wore at his belt, and all of the anger and frustration he felt was written upon his face. Edmond noted Fernand’s look and his face became masked and stern.

I tried to make peace. “This is Fernand, Edmond, my cousin of whom I have told you. Besides yourself, he is the man I love the most in the world. He is my brother. He has always taken care of me.”

Edmond, his arm still around my waist, extended a hand to Fernand. Fernand would not take it. Edmond looked at me, inquisitively, with embarrassment. Edmond was not a man to take a slight of any sort, and he returned Fernand’s stern look. “I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was to meet an enemy here,” he said.

I pointedly stared at Fernand. “I do not believe Fernand is your enemy,” I said. “If I believed that, we would leave the Catalans right now, and I would never return.” Fernand’s face reddened. Let it! I wanted him to understand in no uncertain terms that I expected him to make peace with my betrothed. “Fernand would never wish me or anyone close to me harm. He loves me too much, and he knows how much I love you, and how I could never go on without you. But you are mistaken,” I said, putting emphasis on the words. “Fernand is my dearest brother and will take your hand as a friend.”

I willed it. Fernand reluctantly took Edmond’s hand. And then he ran away from me, from us, and from my home. I shook my head, and I embraced my beloved. “I am sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize the strength of his feelings for me, and he has difficulty dealing with his feelings.”

Edmond was stiff. “I have no doubt that you don’t love him, Mercedes, but perhaps your affection for him has clouded your judgment about him. He is clearly a jealous man, disturbed by the fact that you have chosen another. I feel that he might be a danger to you.”

“No,” I shook my head. “He can’t be. We were raised together. He will conquer his emotions, and you’ll see. He will be your best friend.”

Edmond remained skeptical. “We will see,” he said. “This is hardly, however, the topic for our reunion.” He kissed me again, and I found myself falling into his arms, and forgetting my troubles with Fernand, at least temporarily.