“Excellent, Captain.” The man ushered them forward. “If you desire anything else, you have only to ask.”
“We will walk down to the beach before we lose the light, but first, we shall order supper for later. Possibly, we could have a light dinner before our walk. I am sure the ladies would enjoy some tea.” Frederick beamed throughout this exchange. In reality, Mr. Morris should placate to Charles and Mary, but, he, obviously, saw Frederick as the superior member of the group. Even better, both Henrietta and Anne rested on his arms throughout the exchange. He could feel his chest fill with pride as he glanced down at Anne’s soft lashes, shadowing the crest of her cheeks. Did she realize how much he still admired her and how right she felt on his arm?
After securing the accommodations and ordering their dinner, the next thing to be done was unquestionably to walk directly down to the sea. They were come too late in the year for any amusement or variety which Lyme, as a public place, might offer; the assembly rooms were shut up, and the lodgers almost all gone, scarcely any family but of the residents left—and, as there is nothing to admire in the buildings themselves, the remarkable situation of the town, the principal street almost hurrying into the water, the walk to the Cobb itself, its old wonders and new improvements, with the very beautiful line of cliffs stretching out to the east of the town, are what the stranger’s eye will seek; and a very strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the immediate environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know it better.
The scenes in its neighborhood, Charmouth, with its high grounds and extensive sweeps of country and still more its sweet bay, backed by dark cliffs, where fragments of low rock among the sands make it the happiest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for sitting in unwearied contemplation—the woody varieties of the cheerful village of Up Lyme, and, above all, Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic rock, where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth declare that many a generation must have passed away since the first partial falling of the cliff prepared the ground for such a state, where a scene so wonderful and so lovely is exhibited as may more than equal any of the resembling scenes of the far-famed Isle of Wight: These places must be visited, and visited again, to make the worth of Lyme understood.
The party from Uppercross passing down by the now deserted and melancholy looking rooms, and still descending, soon found themselves on the seashore.
“It is so windy and so damp,” Mary complained as they walked to the sea’s edge. She refused to go near the water.
Louisa and Henrietta chased the tide in and out, just as small children might do.They giggled and laughed with joy of the novelty—as they would never experience a Season in London, their parents saw no reason for the girls to travel about the countryside. Charles Musgrove walked out on one of the rocks littering the shoreline and pretended to cast a line from a rod into the sea. His sisters encouraged him to pull in a great whale on his imaginary line, and he bent to indicate the weight of the catch. The waves lapped about his high boots, keeping him safe from the water.
Frederick watched with some amusement. Then he turned to find Anne, who stood alone on a rocky promontory. Anne closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; she leaned into the power of the ocean—allowing it to draw her into its grasp and hold her. Unlike the rush of water surrounding the others, the waves lapped at Anne’s feet, never touching her slippers, but kissing her feet, nevertheless. She opened her eyes and smiled.
Frederick stood mesmerized by her beauty and by her demonstration of the effect the sea had on her. He understood Anne’s feelings well, having experienced it on more than one occasion. The sea became a part of a sailor’s soul, taking him into its depths and bringing him back once again to the land. He saw that on Anne Elliot’s face when he looked at her, and Frederick now knew, without a doubt, Anne could survive as his wife, accepting the dangers the sea offered, but never allowing a natural fear of the sea to rule her. Frederick found himself trying to quiet the thud he heard resounding from his chest. “Not yet,” he mumbled in warning to himself, anxious to right the wrong in his life.“Soon,” he mouthed the word as he turned to the others.
“Let us walk to the Cobb before we lose the light completely,” he called to gather them once more and to quell the anxiety building in his chest.
They proceeded toward the stone breakwater wall bordering the harbor. “The sea will claim the wall one day,” he added as they gaped wide-eyed at the structure. “It will allow nothing to stop its flow.”
“May we walk along the top, Charles?” Louisa persisted.
He easily conceded, wanting to experience the power of the ocean himself.“At least part of the way.” He escorted the group to the steps leading to the top of the sea wall.
Wentworth pulled Charles to the side to speak to him privately. “If you do not mind, I will leave you for a few minutes. I wish to let Captain Harville know I have returned.”
“Of course, Wentworth, take as long as you need. If we finish before you complete your visit, we will meet you back at the inn.”
“I shall not be long.” With that, they watched as Frederick turned into a small house near the foot of an old pier of unknown date.The others walked on with the assurance that he was to join them on the Cobb.
CHAPTER 10
I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
—John Clare,“First Love”
“Wentworth, you returned!” Harville called out to his friend as he hobbled into the room, having been summoned by his wife.
“I have, Thomas.” They shook hands. “My new acquaintances, upon hearing my description of Lyme, wished most earnestly to experience it on their own.We came for a day trip, which will extend into tomorrow morning, so we might properly rest the horses.”
“And where are these new acquaintances?”Thomas tried to peer over Frederick’s shoulder, expecting to see strangers on his doorstep.
“They are walking along the Cobb.”
Milly joined them, having checked on the children first.“How many are in your party, Captain?”
“There are six, counting myself. Four ladies and two gentlemen.”
“Ladies?” She looked happy with the news.
“My Milly misses the companionship of other women,” Thomas informed him. “I fear Benwick and I bore her with tales of the Laconia.” He gestured toward their permanent houseguest.
Milly Harville slapped her husband on the arm, feigning being insulted.“That is so untrue,” she protested, but a grin quickly over-spread her face. “I love hearing you two speak of your time together—even if you share it for the twentieth time.”
“I believe you wound me, my Dear.”Thomas caught her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “Come, Wentworth.” He chuckled as he turned back to his friend.“I must find an audience for my retellings who would more appreciate them.”
“We will all go.” Milly reached for her cloak.
Wentworth asked, “You, too, Benwick?”
“Of course.” James Benwick rose to join them.
The Uppercross party walked nearly to the end of the Cobb before turning back toward the inn. They discovered Captain Wentworth leading three companions, all well known already by description. Meeting at last, Wentworth made the appropriate introductions. People talked over one another in their eagerness to become acquainted. Milly bubbled with excitement, especially enjoying the enthusiasm of the Misses Musgrove.
Frederick watched carefully as the group interacted. Charles, Henrietta, and Louisa Musgrove gushed with meeting the Harvilles and Benwick. Less focused on class, they welcomed the connections because of Wentworth’s warm praise of each of them. Mary Musgrove acknowledged the trio, but made little effort to get to know them.
Frederick noted all their exchanges, but it was upon Anne his attention rested. She seemed to struggle against the meeting, and th
at bothered him. Of course, he expected Mary to disdain the group, but he did not anticipate a like action from Anne.Yet, as she stood there, Frederick watched her withdraw from the group. Why? he thought. If they had married, these would have been all her friends.Anger crept into his heart. How dare she judge them? Less than an hour earlier, he had considered renewing his attentions; now, he was having second thoughts. He started to turn away from her, but, unpredictably, Anne lifted her chin, and Frederick gazed into her eyes—pools misted over—eyes blinking back tears. Anne dropped her chin, letting her bonnet hide what only Frederick had seen. He froze. Why does she cry? Did Anne, like him, realize this could have been their life—a seaport—his comrades—other naval wives? Frederick swallowed hard, fighting to keep his emotions in check.
“Please, you must come to our home,” he heard Milly Harville offer the invitation.
“That would be most pleasant,” Anne said before turning to Musgrove. “I am sure Mary would like a few moments to warm up, do you not agree, Charles?” Wentworth smiled at her diplomacy, the way she would not allow Mrs. Charles to speak disparagingly about the arrangement.
“Of course, Anne—an excellent idea.” Charles began to usher everyone along.“Follow Mrs. Harville.”
Stepping into the space, Frederick wondered what the others must think. Only those who invite from the heart could think rooms so small capable of accommodating so many. Yet, he listened as Anne, Louisa, Henrietta, and Charles all commented on the pleasanter feelings evoked by the sight of all the ingenious contrivances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville to turn the actual space to the best possible account, to make up for the deficiencies of lodging-house furniture. Milly praised Thomas’s ingenuity in the varieties in the fitting-up of the rooms, where the common necessaries provided by the owner, in the common indifferent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of a rare species of wood, excellently worked up, and with something curious and valuable from all the distant countries Frederick and Thomas had visited.
“My Thomas is quite talented!” Milly Harville boasted as she set up a tea tray for everyone.
“Look at these,”Wentworth said, indicating the toy chest.“Harville made all these.” He handed a few of them to Anne and Louisa.
Louisa immediately tried to catch the ball in the cup while Anne examined the craftsmanship found in the Jacob’s Ladder. “These are exceptional, Captain Harville,” she emphasized as she returned the toys to the box.
Thomas looked a bit uncomfortable with all the praise. “My injury prevents me from taking much exercise, but I have a mind to be useful, and a bit of ingenuity furnishes me with constant employment. If I find nothing else to do, I mend that large fishing net in the corner.”
“Your talent, Sir, is remarkable,” insisted Charles Musgrove.
The group enjoyed their tea, and then the time came for them to return to the inn. “Are you sure, Captain, that we cannot convince you and your party to join us for supper?” Milly Harville asked as she busied herself by collecting the teacups and plates.
“We could not so impose, Mrs. Harville,” Mary responded with polite disdain.
Frederick forced himself to not show his own contempt for Mrs. Charles’s behavior. “We ordered supper, Milly. Mrs. Morris would be upset if we declined to eat at the inn after putting her to so much trouble.”
“Of course.” Her disappointment showed.
Frederick touched her hand.“We will see each other tomorrow before we leave for Uppercross.”
“I shall come for a visit after supper,”Thomas added, “if that is acceptable to all. I still have many stories to tell about Wentworth!
“Please do, Captain,” Louisa encouraged. “We all want to be regaled with tales of the captain’s adventures.” She crossed the room and took his arm as if he offered it to her. “The Captain has quickly become one of our favorite people.”
Frederick felt his skin crawl with Louisa’s touch. He wanted to put distance between them—to reestablish a connection to Anne. He forced a smile to his face; he would walk with Louisa to the inn, but he would take more care not to be caught in her attentions again.
“So tell us, Captain, what is the story with James Benwick? He is so very melancholy.” Louisa nearly snarled her nose in remembrance.
Frederick put down his knife and fork. “I believe I told you previously Captain Benwick lost his fiancée. He was engaged to Captain Harville’s sister and now mourns her loss.They were a year or two waiting for fortune and promotion. Fortune came, his prize money, as lieutenant, being great—promotion, too, came at last, but Fanny Harville did not live to know it. She died last summer while he was at sea. I do not believe it possible for a man to be more attached to a woman than poor Benwick was to Fanny Harville or to be more deeply afflicted under the dreadful change. His disposition is as of the sort that must suffer heavily—uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious, and retiring manners and a decided taste for reading and sedentary pursuits. The friendship between him and the Harvilles seems if possible, augmented by the event, which closed all their views of alliance. Captain Benwick now lives with them entirely. I believe the quiet solitude of Lyme in winter is exactly adapted to Captain Benwick’s state of mind.”
“Oh, the poor man!” Henrietta spoke her thoughts aloud.
Louisa conceded recalcitrantly, “I suppose he has a right to his sadness.”
Frederick nodded in agreement. “He is young, and, I believe, Benwick will rally again and be happy with another, although it will be some time. Because he never had an opportunity to renew his addresses to Fanny, he will eventually seek another, but I cannot imagine his doing so at the moment.” His attention rested on Anne’s face. What would I do if I returned to Somerset to find Anne had passed away? He often thought of losing Anne to another, but Frederick never considered she would not survive something as common as a fever. A shiver ran down his spine as he reflected on the time he wasted.
Anne remarked, “I doubt Captain Benwick will join us this evening; he has all the appearance of being oppressed by the presence of so many strangers.”
The words had no sooner escaped her lips than Captains Harville and Benwick appeared in the doorway of the private dining room. Charles Musgrove greeted them loudly, so that no one else would speak of Benwick. The group split, allowing the two newcomers a chance to take center stage.
At first, both men sat with the entire group, but as the evening progressed, Frederick watched James Benwick withdraw both physically and mentally from the gathering.To Frederick’s chagrin, the very good impulse of Anne’s nature obliged her to begin an acquaintance with Benwick. She seated herself beside him and devoted her conversation to him. Frederick wanted her to hear of his exploits—his successes—to appreciate how close he had come to death and how hard he had worked to achieve respectability.
“Did you tell them about Copenhagen?” Captain Harville asked as he launched into another story of their service together. Frederick shook his head in the negative, but his eyes and ears still searched the corner where Anne sat with Benwick.
He strained to hear what they shared.Their heads bent together in quiet conversation; Frederick noted Benwick’s shyness and his disposal to abstraction faded as the engaging mildness of her countenance and the gentleness of her manners soon had their effect, and his response repaid Anne the trouble of her exertion. Despite twinges of jealousy, Frederick could not help but smile with the knowledge his Anne could reach the unreachable. Frederick picked up snippets of what they said to each other.
“Miss Anne, it is a pleasure to speak to someone who loves poetry as much as you. I feel less alone in my sadness when I read a tragic poem.” Benwick’s shyness existed on a different level now.
Anne smiled. “I agree, Captain; but I remind you of the duty and benefit of struggling against affliction.”
“Oh, Miss Anne, a man could not feel such remorse in your presence.” Benwick said the words with such passion that Anne blushed. That jealo
us pang shot through Frederick again, and he forced the ache from his throat. Looking back at them, Frederick took some delight in watching the redness spread even if it came from another man’s attention. A woman in a full blush was exquisite, and he recalled speaking words of endearment to Anne simply to achieve that same reaction. The thoughts brought him an “unusual” contentment.
“Did you really eat caviar three times a day?” Louisa’s words pulled Frederick into the conversation at hand.
“Every man on board developed a taste for fish eggs,” Frederick declared.“The French love the dish, but, personally, I quickly tired of its novelty.”
“What other French foods have you tasted?” Louisa inquired sweetly.
Harville answered for him, and Frederick only half heard the gasps as Thomas described escargot.
“Snails!” Mary Musgrove said with distaste.
What Benwick said to Anne captured his attention again. “Do you prefer Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Marmion’ or ‘The Lady of the Lake’?”
Anne laughed lightly.“Obviously,‘The Lady.’”
“A romantic.” Benwick’s gentle gaze rested on Anne’s face, and Frederick felt the green-eyed monster all over again.The tenor of his friend’s voice softened as he began to repeat Scott’s words:Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire,
Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string!
’Tis now a seraph bold, with touch of fire,
’Tis now the brush of Fairy’s frolic wing.
Receding now, the dying numbers ring
Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell;
And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring
A wandering witch-note of the distant spell—
And now, ’tis silent all!—Enchantress, fare thee well!
How dare he? Frederick thought.The man repeated love poetry to his Anne, the only woman he had ever loved! He had once saved Benwick’s life, and he was the one who had given the man comfort when Benwick found out about Fanny Harville. And what of Fanny? Would he push her memory to the side and welcome Anne into his heart?
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