Finished, he waited for Louisa to respond—waited for her confirmation or her refutation of what he said, but he remained unanswered. She reacted to the serious warmth of his tone, but Frederick realized she did not have much depth of understanding of the analogy he made. If he chose Louisa as his companion, it would mean a life where no one would challenge him—no one would see him. Louisa would see only his role, his place in society, his accomplishments, and his wealth. Could such an existence bring him satisfaction? He dropped the nut to the ground and, not knowing what else to do, Frederick offered her his arm.
Louisa smiled up at him charmingly, and she and Frederick circled the hedgerow.They walked on in silence before they spotted Mrs. Charles sitting under a shady tree. Louisa nodded toward her brother’s wife, letting her dismay show through her words.“Mary is good-natured enough in many respects, but she does sometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and her pride—the Elliot pride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride.” Frederick silently agreed. “We do so wish Charles married Anne instead.—I suppose you know he wanted to marry Anne?”
Her words shot through Frederick. Nightmares where Anne and Charles walked away from him hand in hand had haunted him for years after the separation. He cleared his throat, and after a moment’s hesitation, said,“Do you mean she refused him?”
Loving gossip, Louisa chattered on. This was a subject upon which she could speak with authority.“Oh!Yes, certainly!”
He did not want to ask the question, but he could not resist the temptation.“When did that happen?”
Louisa smiled; she was in her element. “I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school at the time; but I believe about a year before he married Mary. I wish she accepted him.We should all like Anne a great deal better; and Papa and Mama always think it was her great friend Lady Russell’s doing, that she did not—they think Charles not to be learned and bookish enough to please Lady Russell, and that, therefore, she persuaded Anne to refuse him.”
Lady Russell again, Frederick thought. The woman, obviously, played a role in Anne’s current state. Frederick was now under the persuasion to believe that in the name of love, she single-handedly ruined Anne’s chances of happiness on two separate occasions. How could the woman refuse Charles Musgrove as a legitimate suitor? He was amiable and kind, and, more importantly, he could give Anne a fine estate in the country. The Musgroves lacked the Elliot lineage, but they were still a dominant element in the local society. Although he hated to admit it, Charles Musgrove would have been a caring husband for his Anne. Perhaps—an idea ricocheted through him—perhaps it was not Lady Russell’s decision. Perhaps—Anne—his Anne—had refused Charles Musgrove because of Frederick. She would have been one and twenty by then. She would have been of age. Is it possible? He had often wondered whether, if he had come to her in ’08, before he took the Laconia, if she would have left with him then.These facts suggested that perhaps—perhaps she would have.
He needed time alone to consider this possibility, so Frederick was happy to see their whole party being immediately afterwards collected and once more in motion together. Charles Hayter, as expected, returned with Musgrove and Henrietta. This time he shook hands with Frederick—evidently, there was a withdrawing on the gentleman’s side and a relenting on the lady’s, and they were now very glad to be together again. They were devoted to each other almost from the first instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross.
As he had been spending time with both ladies equally, Henrietta’s silent declaration for Charles Hayter left everyone to assume Louisa now marked him for her own. Nothing can be plainer to them all, including Anne, he thought. How could he renew his addresses to Anne if she thought he favored another? And did he want to renew his addresses? He walked beside Louisa, but his heart took another path. Suddenly, every fiber of his being became aware of Anne. She was tired enough to be very glad of Charles Musgrove’s arm, and Frederick wished it was he to whom she turned.
They crossed a long strip of meadowland—forming distinct parties: Charles Hayter and Henrietta, he and Louisa, Anne and Mary and sometimes Charles Musgrove. Louisa continued to chatter on about the things that interested girls, but her words meant little to him. He responded automatically, allowing her to think as she would. He should distance himself, but that was impossible now; it would have to wait until the next time.
“Catch me!” Louisa demanded as usual, once she climbed to the top of the stile. He did so, but tried to set her some distance away from him when her feet touched the ground again. She purposely clung to his lapels longer than necessary, and he gently removed her hands before offering her his arm. Before, he had welcomed her interest, but now he saw how he must find a way to curtail her ardor.
The long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end of it, was to cross.When the party all reached the gate of exit, they heard a carriage advancing in the same direction and looked up to see Admiral Croft’s gig. Benjamin and Sophia had taken their intended drive and were returning home.
“How far did you walk, Frederick?” his sister inquired once they stopped.
He added casually, “The nearly two miles to Winthrop and back, I suppose.”
“Two miles!” Sophia exclaimed. “Please let us offer one of the ladies a ride back to Uppercross.”
“My sister will share her seat with any lady who might be particularly tired,” Frederick announced to the group.
Henrietta would not leave Charles Hayter. “It is less than a mile,” she pointed out brightly.
Louisa asserted,“I am not tired in any way!”
“I am fine,” Mary said, a little sullenly.
Frederick knew Sophia had offended Mrs. Charles by not asking her to ride before any of the others. He overheard Louisa whisper close by to Hayter, “Mary would not make a third in a one-horse chaise. It is not grand enough for her.”
At that moment, Frederick saw Anne struggling over the stile between two fields. Without thinking, he walked quickly to the carriage; he leaned in to speak to his sister before he could change his mind.
“What is it, Frederick?” Sophia looked around at the walking party crossing the lane and clamoring over an opposite stile.
“Take Miss Anne,” he whispered in her ear.
Sophia shot him a look of concern. “Are you sure, Frederick? You will center your attention on her?” She spoke so softly no one could hear.
“I have never been more sure of anything.” They kept their counsel close and secret.
Sophia nodded and then raised her head to call out, “Miss Anne, I am sure you are tired. Do let us have the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent room for three, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we might sit four.—You must, indeed, you must.”
Anne was still in the lane and instinctively started to decline.“I assure you, Mrs. Croft, I am well.”
“Please, Miss Anne, humor an old man.You must let us be of service to you.” The Admiral’s kind urgency came in support of his wife’s.
“That is very kind—” Frederick heard Anne begin, but he did not let her finish. He turned to her and quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage. One hand rested at the small of her back, and the other held hers tightly as he directed her to the gig and helped her up the step. Beside it, he turned her to him and placed his hands at her waist.
“Frederick?” her mouth moved to say the word, but no sound came out.
A slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Anne,” he whispered close to her hair as he lifted her to the seat. Quickly, he looked away to lessen the attention of his actions. He watched his family compress themselves into the smallest possible space to leave her a corner. He did it. She was in the carriage, and he placed her there; his will and his hands did it. He had recognized her fatigue when the others did not, and he had resolved to give her rest.This little circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone on before. He understood her. He could
not forgive her—but he could not be unfeeling.Though condemning her for the past, still he could not see her suffer without the desire of giving her relief. It was, he told himself, the remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged, friendship. Emotions of compounded pleasure and pain still prevailed.
“Walk on.” The Admiral clucked his tongue to encourage the horse. Frederick stepped to the side to let them pass, and then he walked back to where the others stood. He chose not to turn around and acknowledge the pull Anne’s presence had on him. If he looked back, he would likely chase down the gig, take her in his arms, and demand she love him once again. Instead, he fell into place beside Louisa to finish their walk to Uppercross Cottage. Maybe when they arrived, he would see Anne again before he returned to Kellynch. Maybe he could speak to her at last without the hurt crowding his heart.
“What happened today, Brother?” Sophia asked as they sat together in the library after supper.“With Miss Anne, that is.” He knew she would ask eventually and wondered why she waited so long.
Frederick looked up from his book and feigned disinterest. “There is nothing to explain; Miss Anne appeared exhausted; I recognized her need.” He turned his attention to the military history volume he grasped loosely in one hand.
Sophia paused before adding. “I observed your exchange with Miss Anne.The others could not see because they were on the far side of the road, but I saw, Frederick.”
“Leave it, Sophia,” he warned.
“Benjamin and I thought you to be interested in the Misses Musgrove,” she mused. His only response was a raised eyebrow; otherwise, he did not even raise his head. “The Admiral told Miss Anne of our abbreviated courtship, claiming that is the way of sailors.”
That captured his interest. “What was Miss Anne’s opinion of your conjectures?”
“She spoke little, but she made herself clear.The woman holds you in some regard. How long have you loved her?”
He frowned.“I shall not honor that question with a response.”
Sophia laughed out loud.“That long, eh?”
“Please do not vocalize your unfounded theory, even to the Admiral. Rumors spread quickly in country society.” Frederick closed his book and walked to the fireplace, leaning his arm and forehead on the mantel as he stared into the flame.
“I do not wish to see you hurt, Frederick,” she observed with a sigh.“But I will leave your heart to its own devices.”
“Then you need to look the other way, Sophia. My heart is fairly bruised and battered already.” With that, he strode from the room, leaving her to imagine the worst.
Mr. Steventon, the estate butler, tapped on the door of the morning room. Upon entering, he presented a silver salver to Frederick. “A letter for you, Captain.”
Frederick took the thickly folded missive from the tray.“Thank you, Mr. Steventon,” he murmured.
“Who is it, Frederick?” the Admiral called from his end of the table.
Frederick turned the bundle over in his hand, looking at the post. “The letter has been to Plymouth and back,” he said. “It is from Captain Harville.”
“Open it, open it, Man; tell us where he has settled,” the Admiral said impatiently.
Frederick broke the wax seal to open the three pages that were from Harville but written in Milly’s hand. He sat quietly for a few minutes, perusing the first page. “Thomas has settled with his family at Lyme for the winter.”
“Really?” Sophia commented.“That is not far from here.”
Frederick spoke his thoughts aloud.“How far, do you suppose?”
Sophia looked to Benjamin for specifics. “I would say a little short of twenty miles—by the sea—Lyme is a great port; Harville will like it there.”
Frederick’s eyebrows contracted as he frowned. “What is it, Dear?” Sophia asked.
He still held the letter in front of him. “Milly Harville wrote a few lines regarding Thomas’s deteriorating condition. He has not been in good health since receiving that severe wound to his leg two years ago.” His jaw took on a hard line. He stood quickly and announced, “I believe I will go upstairs and pack a bag; I will ride to Lyme today if neither of you have an objection to my borrowing one of the horses again.”
“Of course not, Frederick,” the Admiral assured him. “Stay a day or two with your old friend.”
“Friends,” Frederick corrected him. “It seems Captain James Benwick has taken up residence with the Harvilles. He still grieves for Fanny Harville, no doubt, and finds solace in her brother’s home.”
The Admiral stepped into the hallway, and Sophia caught Frederick’s hand before he left the morning room. She spoke in a low voice. “Being away from Uppercross for a few days—placing distance between yourself and those in attendance there—is probably for the best—it will give you time to think.”
“It will be what it will be, Sophia. I cannot manipulate it through my own will.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I will see you in a few days, my Dear.”
CHAPTER 9
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity’s sun rise.
—William Blake,“Eternity”
Milly Harville opened the door to her cottage. “Frederick Wentworth, as I live and breathe!” she said as she embraced him. “Do come in,” she said, ushering him into a living room. “Thomas will be delighted to see you; he longs for your company.You received his letter?”
“I did.” Frederick shot a quick look about the room, taking in its sparse furnishings.
She followed his eyes with hers. “It is not much, but I insisted we economize until Thomas can find steady work.” She gestured toward a comfortable chair while taking his hat and greatcoat.
“There is no need to explain, Milly.” Frederick took the seat to which she indicated.
“I do not mind. You are Thomas’s closest friend.” She seated herself across from him. “Thomas will arrive at any moment, and you should know how things are before he does.”
“I am your servant, Milly.” Frederick took a second, longer look at their surroundings.“Tell me what I need to know; you must not stand on ceremony with me.”
“Things have gone poorly for Thomas; a bad investment took a large chunk of his savings, plus his leg injury keeps him from productive work.” Her words struck Frederick as if something had sucked the air from his lungs.“Of course,Thomas’s generous nature did not keep him from denying family and friends their loans.We are not destitute, but unless things change we could soon be.”
“But Thomas took nearly ten thousand pounds with him when he left the service!” The concept of his friend losing so much astounded Frederick.
“I understand your dismay,” she spoke softly. “Thomas never admits his weaknesses.”
Before they could say more, they heard male voices in the entryway. Both stood to greet the men. “Thomas,” Milly said as she rushed forward to take her husband’s hand and to discreetly offer him steadiness as he stepped into the room,“look who came to visit!”
“Wentworth!” he exclaimed. “You were in my thoughts lately, and now you are in front of me.” Harville embraced his old friend.
“Your letter found me, at last.” Frederick teased with a grinned. “Actually, I am with Sophia and the Admiral in Somerset—twenty miles from here.”
“You are so close!” Milly grabbed at his hands.“I did not realize.”
Harville stepped to the side to allow the other man access to his guest.“Hello, Frederick,” James Benwick said as he stepped forward.
“Benwick, I did not realize you were with Thomas until I received his letter.”
James Benwick shot a quick glance at Harville.“Thomas shows me a great kindness.”
They shook hands as Milly began to hustle them into the room. “Come now,” Milly encouraged, “let me find us all some tea and cakes. Thomas, would you check on
the children before you sit down?” She rushed toward the kitchen.
“I will see to the children,” Benwick supplied.“Join Wentworth by the fire,Thomas.”
“Thank you, Benwick.”
Thomas Harville slowly lowered his bulk into a nearby chair, balancing his weight on the cane he held in his left hand. Frederick waited, anticipating Thomas’s need for support, before he resettled himself in an accompanying chair. “I am so pleased to see you at last,Wentworth,” Harville sighed deeply with relief as he settled his limbs into the comfort of the cushions. “I have missed your dry wit. Benwick is not much of a conversationalist; what attracted my sister Fanny to him I will never understand.”
“Love is not to be understood,” Frederick mumbled in response. “Benwick has an intellectual attractiveness, and as I recall your dear Fanny could masquerade as a bluestocking if she came from more austere roots. She read voraciously; Fanny and James found a companionable peace in each other,” Frederick remarked. “That is a rare thing.”
Harville looked off, as if seeing Fanny’s face in his memory. “She possessed such a joy for living. Sometimes it is hard for me to believe she is no longer with us.” With a slight shake of his head, he slowly returned his attention to his friend.
“How goes it with Benwick?” Frederick asked, letting his voice drop in case the man was close at hand.
Thomas glanced toward the door leading to the second story. “His sadness is intense.” Harville searched for the right words. “He was always so bookish—depending on someone else’s words to express his emotions so he does not say much. Milly and I agreed he should be with us. I feared, at first, that he might try to find a watery grave and join Fanny for an eternity. I see some improvement since he came to us—I think the children bring him a quiet joy—but he needs so much more than what we can give him. He needs to find an occupation or a hobby or an interest to distract his mind—something besides the volumes of poetry he reads incessantly.”
Captain Wentworth's Persuasion Page 12
