A Very Austen Valentine

by Robin Helm

  Edward paused. “Sir Walter is out of the question. Perhaps Miss Elliot … no, Lady Russell surely will help you.”

  “I’ll walk right over to the Lodge and ask.”

  They stared for a moment, then Edward smiled. “Of course, I will help you.”

  “It puts you in a ticklish situation. If you are caught, there is no telling what will happen.”

  “If I am caught, Sir Walter will be to Mr. Wells and the Bishop in a thrice and I will be looking for a new position. And a new home.”

  “I hate to ask it of you.”

  “You haven’t. I like you am a volunteer. I want you happy, and Miss Anne is your best chance of that.”

  “She is. We have already discussed it and we will try not to write more than once a fortnight. That may not raise suspicion of how often you will meet to exchange the letters.”

  “Leave that to the two of us. Have you told her about multiple copies of letters?”

  “I did and then we got diverted when she asked what happened to extra letters that never got picked up. And then I got to wondering about it myself. At this point, she is more concerned about where to hide my letters when she receives them. She thinks Miss Elliot may be a bit of a snoop. Her opinion is that writing three copies so that one may reach me is cumbersome.”

  Edward clapped his brother’s arm. “She is not wrong on that.”

  He’d fussed with the letter, folding and unfolding, so that the last fragment of the sealing wafer fell to the floor. “It is a strange life, Eddy. No wonder they tried to get her to end it.”

  “Yes, well writing letters that may never be received is redundant, but no odder than some of what goes on here on land. What is the matter? You look sad all of a sudden.”

  “Maybe I should let her go.”

  There was a long pause with only the sound of the fire and the shifting of chairs.

  “You were furious that they almost succeeded in making her break the engagement. Why should you now think to do the same?”

  “I have put my hand to heaving fellows over the side. And it is a shabby affair to sell their worldly goods at the mast and send the pittance off to a mother or a wife. What if it’s me next time?”

  His brother’s hand was comforting rubbing his elbow. “More come home than not. And you are cleverer than most. You will always find a way home.” He sat up. “She will miss you, but this lovers’ ruse will keep her occupied until you can marry. And I will be here to help her if she needs it.”

  Edward was sad as well. For a morning of great news, it was taking on a funerial air.

  “I will send you money when I make it. Some for you and some for Annie. I’m not sure it will do her any good. There’s nowhere to spend it, and too many prying eyes.”

  Asp, Plymouth, Sept ‘06

  The ship is called Asp. She is an old-built sloop and hardly fit to be employed for service. The powers-that-be have declared her fit for two years of service. I am determined that if she does not go down in the first twenty-four hours, she will be the making of me. I swear it. Our orders are for the West Indies.

  Kellynch Hall, December ‘06

  I hope this letter finds you before Christmas. Edward has told me it is very hot in the Indies and that will likely as not be sweltering while having your goose and Christmas pudding. Is it true that you took a dozen geese onboard the ship? I can’t imagine …

  Asp, at sea, March ‘07

  We have just left Port au Prince. They reckon that we have two hundred pounds coming to us when the prize courts are finished with this one. The more French ships we snatch up, the happier I am!

  Kellynch Hall, June ‘07

  It is still cool. I know you don’t wish to hear that considering the heat, but everyone is still bundled up as though it is winter. I miss you. I have stopped folding my picture for fear of it falling apart. I keep it under the blotter. Elizabeth has been dawdling in the halls recently, so I am constantly moving your letters. It would be a disaster, but I am rehearsing what I will say if caught. Playing the role of a strong independent young lady is fun. You should see me.

  Kellynch Hall, August ‘07

  Edward assures me that not hearing from you doesn’t mean anything except that the mail packets are abominably slow. They care nothing for the feelings of lovers. It is my birthday and exactly one year since I broke our engagement. (smile) I miss you terribly and want you back home so that I can hold you in my arms and feel you breathing against my cheek. Are you shocked at my frankness?

  Asp, at sea, Sept ‘07

  …and my dear old girl was barely touched! Their frigate was a mess and taking on water fast. Once we patched her up, we inventoried things and between the cargo, the weapons, the payroll for three other ships she carried, and the prize money for eighty crewmen, we are pretty rich, Annie girl. Of course, I would dearly love to keep the half the Admiralty and the Port Admiral will skim off the top, but our share is mighty fine indeed. I will tell you that I marked your birthday by toasting you at dinner with my officers. It is their considered opinion that you are a splendid woman who deserves better than me. They jest, but I agree fully with no reservations. I miss your sweet scent and am glad to find you my first thought every day.

  Kellynch Hall, Sept ‘07

  I am relieved to hear from you. And while you are pretty rich, I am more happy that you are alive. Edward was firm that I could not be depressed, or I would give us away. I think he was a bit worried himself. Maybe he was not, it is just my nature to worry over you. I am glad to know that you miss me. And I like you calling me Annie girl. I have never been anything but Anne. Such a plain name, but whenever you said it I felt extraordinary. Annie girl makes me feel that way. When you return, I want that to be the first thing I hear from you, please.

  Asp, at sea, March ‘08

  The fever ran through the ship like fire through dry grass. I think we shall see the last of it in a day or two. There are only one or two left in the sick bay. I was down there today, and the Mr. Luger assured me that we are nearly full strength again. As soon as the ship’s boy, Daniel, is released we are whole.

  I sat down to tea and was told Daniel died between breakfast and noon. There was nothing to be done but shed a tear. He had so little to sell to at the mast that Michael Eyerly will strong-arm the men this evening when they are a little drunk and happy. Eyerly watches over the little boys like a hen over her chicks. Annie girl, I am ready to come home.

  Kellynch Hall, April ‘08

  I was caught with one of your letters. Elizabeth suspects me of something, but I am sure she will never guess what. She demanded to see what I was reading. Before you think me a simpleton, I was not in possession of it in a public place but in my own bedroom, into which she barged after the lightest of knocks. I was very awkward trying to cover it and that is what add to her suspicions, I think. She insisted on seeing it and I refused but began mattering on about a dress she has ordered without Father’s permission. She was unaware I even knew about it so was flustered at the mention. Picture your Annie girl and her sister bobbing and weaving over a piece of paper at a lady’s writing desk. She grew frustrated, stamped her foot, and left. I know, this is ridiculousness when life and death are passengers with you and your crew. My hope is to give you some respite from the weight. The end of this torture is in sight. It truly is.

  Asp, at sea, August ‘08

  It is nearing your birthday again and we have received a gift, you and I: Asp is heading for home! In just a month’s time I will be in Plymouth settling my beautiful girl into the docks, and then heading to Somerset to claim my true prize: YOU.

  Next day: Well, we are now playing hide-and-seek with a plump French frigate. That means I will not be sailing directly home to you. But, Annie Girl, if I bring this one in, we shall have such a time spending the proceeds. The mail packet awaits. FW

  Kellynch Hall, December ‘08

  I would much prefer you here than having money. I have been wondering what happens if we wa
it too long? What if something happens to you before you are satisfied?

  Anne read what she’d written and threw the page away. It was agony keeping the promise to herself that she would write only uplifting things. Had she even been able to do that? None of the past letters touched her conscience and she thought herself safe.

  It had been a long while since Edward Wentworth had slipped her a book with a letter inside. They were both attending a party this evening and she prayed this would change.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Thankfully the music at the Poole’s party was loud and slightly out of key. It made conversation with Mr. Wentworth simple. “I do not understand. I thought a court martial was a trial. What is he being tried for? Will he go to prison?”

  “No, no, Miss Anne,” Edward vigorously shook his head. “This is one of those arcane Navy rituals I told you about. When Frederick sailed into Plymouth in early November, they had captured a large frigate. It had done them some damage, and then the weather turned bad. It was a four-day storm that sunk Asp. And whenever a captain loses a ship, he is put on trial to ascertain if it was his negligence. Now, Frederick has the confidence to think he controls the weather, but even the Port Admiral and three captains know it was not Frederick’s doing.”

  That was a relief. “And his letter says he is now the captain of another ship. Already?”

  “Yes, he was given a step-in rank, and a newer, larger ship. Laconia, he said.”

  “Yes, Laconia. He sounded happy.”

  Edward looked at Anne for a few moments. She was growing uncomfortable. “He is. And you are not, I can see.”

  How to explain to Frederick’s brother how his excitement about the sea made her feel. “When he speaks of his ships, it is as if he is in love with someone else. And he tells me about it.”

  Edward smiled and nodded. “That is a common complaint.”

  “So, I am not even original in my grumbling.”

  “No, hardly. And rather than thinking of this like another woman, as if he is betraying you, consider this more as a situation with a mother and her children.”

  Her brows furrowed involuntarily. “I do not see the connection in the least.”

  “A parent, particularly a mother with several children loves them all.”

  Anne knew this was not to be the case, but nodded nonetheless.

  “And so, when she pays attention to one it takes nothing from the others. A woman who is in love with a sailor is not necessarily being slighted when his attention is elsewhere.”

  “That is not how it feels.”

  “I suppose not. But you have a great opportunity here, Miss Anne. This will be your life when you marry Frederick. You are seeing how it will all play out before you are committed to him, and to his life’s work.” The small orchestra ended their discordant concerto, and everyone clapped with gusto. This may have been a mistake for they started immediately on another tune.

  The music did not matter so much as Edward’s observations. He went to get them a cup of punch and Anne watched the dancing. She would have to give more thought to his analogy of a man’s love of the sea being less a case of straying affections and one of a mother and her children. It was his opinion that Anne was fortunate to be privy to her coming life should she marry Frederick that troubled her now.

  If she would marry Frederick.

  The thought that she would not marry him had never crossed her mind until this very minute. What would she do if she did not marry him? Surely another would come along. She stood and looked about the room to chase such silly thoughts away. Of course, she wanted to marry Frederick Wentworth. Why else would his prolonged absence and his fond affection for his new ship and the sea plague her so?

  “There is a long line for punch, so would you rather join me in the dining room? This is the Pooles’ so we know there will be seats.” Edward extended his arm to her.

  She took it. “Yes, there will be seats aplenty, that is certain.” She hoped that Edward would always be nearby when Frederick was away. He was such a comfort to her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Lovers Reunite

  He was nearly finished with the note. “Benwick! Benwick!” Where is that man? He needed his First immediately. The thundering footsteps on the gangway gave him relief.

  “I am here, sir,” The thud of Benwick stout frame against the door reminded the Captain it was locked. He opened it, allowing a red-faced, panting Benwick entrance. “Sorry, sir. Chips was bending my ear.”

  The ship’s carpenter was last of the malingerers left over from the previous captain, and while the man was a talented worker of the wood, he was also a conniver who saw every new repair as an opportunity to feather his own nest in some way. Wentworth was certain that bits of Laconia’s projects were displayed all over the man’s home and his brother’s pub. “If that man so much as mentions any of his elaborate schemes, tell him I am on the verge of tossing his warrant card into my fire and that will put an end to his precious supply of navy-bought wood and tools.” He went to his desk and found a raft of papers for Benwick. “As I told you, I will be absenting myself from the ship for three days. You know what needs doing as well as I so don’t let anyone bully you. Remind them I will be back in short order and their antics will not go untold. Just now I want you to take this note to Harville.” Wentworth placed a neatly folded note on the stack in his arms. “This will give you a chance to speak with Miss Fanny. You will like that, I think. But I’ll need an answer within the hour so don’t get lost in all that poetry.”

  As he waited for Benwick’s return, there were other arrangements to make. A letter begging a few days leave of absence to write up, Weld the purser to cozen and threaten with a cane if anything went amiss in his absence. There was also the money to be arranged for. The plan was clear as crystal in his mind. They no longer needed Sir Walter’s consent to marry, but Anne would want it all the same. Even without it, a second plan would provide Anne with a good future.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Wentworth arrived at the beloved cottage and knocked on the door as he opened it. Edward looked up from his book without being startled in the least. “Miss Anne cannot come with you. Not unmarried. You do know that.”

  Frederick stepped farther in and held the door for someone else.

  “Of course, Mr. Wentworth.” Harville said, bringing up the rear of a small parade. “My sister and I are along to assure that all reputations remain intact.”

  “Commander Harville, do come in. And hello, Miss Harville. It has been a long time.”

  “It has, Mr. Wentworth. I am still considering your argument concerning the Chilton Accords. I am impressed still how it holds up.”

  “Thank you. I wish I could take credit for it—”

  “I do not mean to break up this pleasant theological debate, but Anne is waiting so we must move things along.”

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  “What are you doing with your cloak on in the house, Anne? You are skulking in the shadows like a cutpurse.”

  “I am cold. I am not skulking, and what do you know of such things, Elizabeth?”

  “I read. Extensively in fact.”

  “I see.” Anne was about to ask more concerning her sister’s reading habits, but the knocker shattered all her interest. She turned and fairly danced down the stairs.

  The timbre of the visitor’s voice was much beloved. It was Frederick. She could breathe a sigh of relief just in time to hold her breath through his visit with her father.

  Her father did not matter for the man she loved was well and truly home.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Her embrace was sweeter than he could have imagined. Thankfully, in a few weeks they would be free of clandestine nonsense. No more hiding. No more paper and ink. He glanced at his brother and Miss Harville. Edward was admiring the scenery outside the window while Miss Fanny smiled and took a seat.

  His Annie was more beautiful than he remembered. He’d drawn her many times in the in
tervening years, but never had he captured this rapturous beauty. He touched her hair and cheek. “The day is finally here, my girl. I told you I would give you a wondrous birthday present.”

  “I’ve never looked forward to a birthday more.”

  “I am a few days late, but I was just given a new ship else I would have found a way to come sooner.” It was very nearly a lie. He was barely onshore in the past days, much less able to leave his crew.

  “And he is now a full-fledged captain, Miss Anne. Don’t forget to ask him about it.”

  “What may I ask is going on here, Anne?” Sir Walter was standing in the doorway of the sitting room, holding a tea cup, his feet planted as if to do battle. He looked from person to person awaiting a response. As no one did, he pointed at Wentworth and said in a raised voice, “Get your hands off my daughter, you blackguard!”

  All were silent until Fanny Harville laughed. And continued to laugh, and to point at the baronet. “Really, sir, you are very silly.”

  Lady Russell joined Sir Walter and was shocked at the sight and the strange woman’s declaration. “What are you doing here, Commander Wentworth?” Her mouth pursed, and her brows knit. “Is this why you have invited me for tea today? You knew about this, did you not?”

  Anne’s face glowed pink. Edward smiled wide. Frederick was not sure how to respond. Were this a play, they’d all surely be booed off the stage.

  “This man has been writing to Anne for heaven knows how long, Father. They have been exchanging letters aided by his brother, the curate.” Miss Elliot now joined them in the hallway. There is no way to know what promises he has made, what dreadful lies he has told my sister.”

  “This is not true, sir. I wrote all the letters myself. And only told Miss Elliot what my brother had written me.” His brother knew he had to be careful in how all this unraveled. Of anyone in the room, aside from Anne, Edward was the most vulnerable to Sir Walter’s ire.