by Alexa Adams
The gentlemen departed, and Lady Russell looked to her goddaughter with concern. “Anne, is something amiss?”
“I am afraid so, Lady Russell. It appears we are to learn of Mrs. Clay's whereabouts much sooner than expected.”
“Whatever could the Captain know of Penelope?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “He saw her in town, I suppose?”
“I believe so,” replied Anne, tentatively. “We shall have to wait for the full story in order to understand the matter, but I fear her situation is far worse than what we expected.”
“Oh, Anne!” exclaimed Lady Russell. “She has not done something completely untoward, I hope?”
Even Elizabeth showed signs of great discomposure, and Anne wondered if her purpose in providing such hints, intended to brace her companions for the revelation to come, was not mistaken. “I do not know the details, only what I have surmised. For the moment, we must be patient.”
All three ladies settled down to their needlework, though not one set a single stitch.
**********
Captain Wentworth anticipated Sir Walter's reaction: that he would be less concerned with Mrs. Clay, the lady whom he had interacted with daily for the better part of a year, and who had formed a member of his household, than with the disrespect Mr. Elliot's actions displayed towards himself. Mrs. Clay had formed her own fate, and the baronet happily relegated the lady to it, but that his heir, whom he had openly accepted after long estrangement, and after having so publicly, once again, taken him by the hand – even introducing him to the Dalrymples! – should deliver such a blow to his consequence was unforgivable. The man raged quite openly, and while his tirade only confirmed Frederick opinion of his vanity, he felt more sympathy for his future father-in-law at this moment than he had ever in the past, even taking it upon himself to refill the older man's glass when he finally collapsed in his chair, such an unaccustomed display of emotion having completely drained him of energy.
“Thank you, Wentworth. I do now understand your haste in making an appearance here this evening. But what is to be done? He will parade her quite openly in London, and soon all of our acquaintances will know of the ill use we have suffered at both of their hands. There is no way to stem the tide of gossip.”
The Captain nodded his agreement. “The best that can be done is for you to display a face of unconcern to the world.”
“True. I am Sir Walter Elliot, and what such disreputable relations do cannot diminish my position. Nevertheless, it is a blow, and I feel it, I do assure you, as will Elizabeth. But we will hold our heads high, as we Elliots always have. I will consult with Lady Dalrymple tomorrow. She will know how to proceed.”
“We must tell the ladies, Sir Walter. It will not do for them to learn of these events from an outside source.”
“Yes, yes. You are right,” agreed the weary baronet, showing his age far more than usual. “I do appreciate the service you have rendered, Wentworth. You are a most welcome addition to the family, and I must say that the timing of your wedding could not be better, as it will give the gossips something else to think of.”
This was as high praise as the Captain had ever expected to hear from Sir Walter, and while he could not help but censure the man's principles, it was still a source of satisfaction to be sincerely embraced by Anne's father.
After making some adjustments to his appearance and steadying himself to putting the best front on the situation he possibly could, Sir Walter led Captain Wentworth back to the drawing room, where three uneasy ladies rose expectantly at their entrance. Elizabeth came forward, “What has happened, Father? Anne believes the Captain has learned of Mrs. Clay's location.”
“Yes, indeed he has, my dear. Do sit down. I have some unpleasant news to share. We have been most ill used, but we must remember who we are and not let it discompose us. The duplicity of others is not our concern.”
“Certainly, Sir Walter,” concurred Lady Russell. “If you have been mistaken in Mrs. Clay's character, the fault lies entirely with she who worked so hard to insinuate herself into your good graces. Do not let it trouble you a moment longer.”
“I am afraid this goes beyond Mrs. Clay,” replied Sir Walter. “Wentworth, will you tell your tale?”
The Captain nodded his head and preceded bluntly, in much the same manner that he delivered reports to his commanders, “While in London I called upon Mr. Elliot. It was in his home that I found Mrs. Clay ensconced. She is under his protection, and soon to be settled in quarters of her own, which he will provide.”
“No!” cried Elizabeth, expressing the shock of the entire room. Captain Wentworth had been most unhappy in being the bearer of such tidings, but he gratified to learn that in discomposing the arrogant Elliots, he found them to be far more human than he had ever before.
“I am afraid it is true, Elizabeth. She was your friend, and ought to have been grateful for your patronage,” consoled Sir Walter, rather missing the point. “One of your refined sensibilities will feel it most acutely.”
Anne rose and went to her sister, saying quietly. “Do not give him the satisfaction of learning of your hurt, Elizabeth. He is beneath your contempt. Do not allow his actions to trouble you.”
These were the words with which to work upon Elizabeth Elliot, and she began to compose herself. “Indeed,” she agreed, moving to her father's side, “they are both undeserving of our concern.”
“Very true,” agreed Lady Russell. “We will not give them another thought, though someone ought to write to Mr. Shepherd and tell him what we have learned.”
“It will be taken care of, Lady Russell. Though it leaves us in something of a predicament. Shepherd has handled my affairs for decades, and it would be a sad loss to have to replace his services with that of another.”
“As long as he renounces that dreadful daughter of his, Sir Walter, I see no reason why you cannot maintain the relationship,” was Lady Russell's retort.
“Quite true. I will write to him in the morning.”
Though Captain Wentworth had long bemoaned the Elliot pride, on this evening it was impressed upon him how useful such self-consequence could be, when needed. The family would stand together, an impenetrable wall guarding their humiliation from the eyes of the world. As he said good evening to Anne, he reflected aloud, “You know, though they would object to the effects on their complexions, your relatives would make excellent sailors.”
Anne was happy to smile after the tumultuous events of that day, “And what makes you say so?”
“They rise to the occasion. I may not agree with their values, but one cannot deny that your sister, in particular, displayed great strength of character this evening.”
Rather than comment, she hugged his words close to her heart, and said, “Shall we visit Mrs. Smith in the morning and share our good news?”
“I shall collect you after breakfast. Look for your new landaulet, which should have been delivered to the Croft's today.”
“Oh Frederick!” she cried in happy surprise. “There was no need for you to do that!”
“Tell your father and sister. It is a very handsome equipage, if I may say so myself, and will be sure to provide a pleasant distraction to their woes.”
**********
It was a very pretty landaulet that promptly made its appearance in Camden Place the following morning, arousing more than passing interest in the residents of the house. Sir Walter abandoned his effort to write to Mr. Shepherd with the delicate news of Mrs. Clay's downfall – which was far more focused on the baronet's magnanimous condescension in maintaining the business relationship than on offering condolences to a longtime acquaintance – in order to survey the equipage and express his approbation. Elizabeth, following a polite acknowledgment of the vehicle's charms, hurried to compose her own letter to the doubtlessly jealous Mary, containing far more details than her very cursory inspection of the conveyance would be expected to provide, and offering sympathy for her youngest sister's continued dependence on the old fashion
ed coach of her in-laws. Once Sir Walter had tired of his inquisition into the make and model, Anne and Wentworth were finally free to depart for Westgate Buildings, having to endure only one passing comment on the surprise the inhabitants of that domicile were sure to express upon spotting such a fashionable carriage at their door.
The now familiar face of Nurse Rooke ushered the couple into Mrs. Smith's noisy parlor, where they were greeted with gratitude, joy, and a shocking lack of concern for the engaged couple’s means of conveyance. A note from Anne had prepared the widow for both the visit and news of her good fortune, and it was clear that all of her limited resources had been utilized in providing her guests with as sumptuous an offering of refreshments as could be mustered. Yet despite the celebratory nature of the meeting, Mrs. Smith seemed to pay an undue amount of attention to Anne's comfort, a solicitousness that could not proceed unremarked for long. Upon Nurse Rooke looking in upon them for a third time, and Mrs. Smith inquiring once again into the satisfaction of Anne's chair, that perplexed lady was finally driven to inquire, “My dear friend, we are here to plan your own improved prospects. I myself, being perfectly healthy and secure, require no solace. So why trouble yourself so, when the subject of relocating you to the more comfortable lodgings available in Charles Street is far more pertinent?”
Mrs. Smith cast an uncomfortable glance towards Nurse Rooke, still lurking in the doorway, who, in turn, quickly made herself scarce. “But I am quite comfortable where I am. I do not pretend that my lodgings are ideal, but I am situated at a very convenient distance to the warm bath.”
“My dear Mrs. Smith,” interposed the Captain, “the distance is immaterial. Besides, as I am now the executor of your husband's estate, I shall happily advance you the funds. Your health will undoubtedly benefit from the fresher air to be had in Charles Street. Now, what else is troubling you?”
Casting her eyes downward, Mrs. Smith uttered these conscious words, “I am afraid I have been on the receiving end of some very disturbing gossip regarding Mr. Elliot.”
Anne and Wentworth glanced at each other. “So it begins already,” sighed the former.
Mrs. Smith looked up, “But do you already know?”
“If you seek to inform me that my cousin has entered into a most disreputable arrangement with my sister's former companion, then yes, I am sorry to say that I am fully aware of the disgraceful situation.”
Mrs. Smith looked at once relived and, simultaneously, concerned. “Nurse Rooke brought me the news just this morning. She had it from Mrs. Wallis.”
“I am not surprised.”
“I am afraid it is already much talked of in the town. Such things will not be kept secret, you know, particularly in a place like Bath. And the gossip, unfortunately, has taken a rather ugly turn.”
Captain Wentworth looked surprised, “Uglier than what is to be expected? I cannot see how it could be.”
“I am afraid many have surmised that Mr. Elliot's motivations were specifically intended to harm you, Miss Elliot.”
“Me?” cried Anne. “What can I possibly have to do with the affair?”
“Many believed that Mr. Elliot was on the verge of asking for your hand when your engagement was announced. Indeed, some even speculate that you had already received an offer. In such circumstances, creative minds will spin the most outlandish tales. Those of us more intimate with Mr. Elliot's character may recognize his true motivation was pure avarice, but one cannot deny that depressed hopes make for a far more romantic story.”
“I do not see how either version of events undermines Mr. Elliot's culpability,” replied Anne. “I am an innocent bystander. Indeed, it is my father and sister who feel a personal injury in his defection. I am just relieved that neither he, nor Mrs. Clay, shall be allowed to impose upon my family any longer.”
“Be that as it may, do not be surprised to find yourself the subject of interest in the coming weeks.”
And so she was. Much of the quiet laughter that should have been reserved for Sir Walter and Elizabeth instead manifested itself as whisperings and conjectures wherever Anne made an appearance. The constant presence of the Captain, however, deterred those who might be so bold as to question her directly on the subject, and the couple's obvious devotion did its office in quelling the worst suppositions. Only two parties were so forward as to comment directly on the scandal. Lady Dalrymple did not hesitate to inform Sir Walter as to her disillusionment in the young man, whom she had considered as much under her own wing as he ever had, and expressed a great deal of concern over the fate of Miss Cateret, having exposed her delicate sensibilities to such an unscrupulous associate. It was quickly decided that the acquaintance with the Wallises must be dropped by the entire family, and while Sir Walter felt some pain over never having had the pleasure of meeting the beautiful Mrs. Wallis, on which event he had set such store, it was a sacrifice he did not hesitate to make. As a result of the couple finding themselves quite shunned by the best of Bath society, they quickly made their exit following the new mother’s recovery. As Nurse Rooke's services were no longer required, their presence was mourned by none of concern to us.
The other party who felt empowered to comment on the situation, though only to Anne and Wentworth, were the Crofts. The Admiral expressed his indignation at the usage the Elliots had endured, and seconded the Captain’s sentiment that a good flogging was what Mr. Elliot required. Mrs. Croft was more pragmatic in her approach, and while she never mentioned the scandal to anyone in her own circle, she did make sure that every one of her acquaintance was left in no doubt of the long-standing devotion of the engaged couple.
Mary had much to say on the subject, but most of her diatribe was reserved for her husband's ears. She begged quite ceaselessly for a return to Bath, in order to both provide support and show solidarity with her family in their time of need, but the better information Charles received from Wentworth regarding the Elliots' impenetrability on the subject decided him firmly against such a display. The duty of attending his own sisters' approaching nuptials far outweighed the inconvenience of Mary's complaints, and while they were vigorous, the pleasure derived in having a very constant source of conversation should not be underestimated.
Who can be in doubt of what followed? Time passed quickly between wedding preparations, gossip quelling, attending to Mrs. Smith's affairs, and bridging the narrowing gulf between Captain Wentworth and Lady Russell. Much faster than she had ever believed possible, Anne's wedding day was upon her. Frequently, a couple embarking on the adventure that is marriage express a great deal of nervous anxiety, and very understandably so, but on this occasion both bride and groom entered the Abby with perfect confidence. Years of separation and the attendant sorrow, followed by the joy of reaching a long overdue understanding, had effectively overpowered any and all doubts the happy couple had about their union. If any questions still lingered in the minds of those in attendance regarding the bride's relationship with her cousin, the assurance with which her vows were spoken forever laid them to rest. Nothing but goodwill remained for the newlyweds as they departed for Camden Place, where a select few had been invited to a wedding breakfast. Anne and Wentworth did not linger long, as they were anxious to begin their lengthy journey to Plymouth, having planned several strategic stops in coastal towns along the way.
Sir Walter was highly gratified by the proceedings. The Bishop had done great honor to Anne's illustrious heritage during the ceremony, Lady Dalrymple expressed her approbation for the entirety of the event, and Bath had relished the opportunity (the late gossip playing no little part in their interest) to witness his handsome family at great advantage. All this, assisted by the Captain's well-sounding name (though no connection ever was established to the Strafford family), enabled Sir Walter at last to prepare his pen, with a very good grace, for the insertion of the marriage in the volume of honor. Elizabeth's feelings upon having recorded in the book of books not just one, but the marriage of both younger sisters, can be so easily surmi
sed that we shall not waste the reader's time by recording them here. Instead, let us conclude on the far more appropriate sentiments belonging to the characters of worth: The Crofts, Lady Russell, Mrs. Smith, and, of course, Captain and Mrs. Wentworth, all of whom saw with unalloyed pleasure the happiness of this union. For Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in Captain Wentworth's affection, and his profession was all that could ever make her friends wish that tenderness less: the dread of a future war all that could dim her sunshine.
Pride and Prejudice
"Ma’am, I have something truly wonderful to tell you. Mr. Darcy has been so kind as to request my hand in marriage, and I have accepted."
Mrs. Bennet heard her daughter speak, but the words did not make sense. What could Lizzy be saying about Mr. Darcy?
Elizabeth watched her mother closely. She had prepared for an epic outburst to follow her declaration, even asking her mother to sit down in case of swooning, and to instead encounter calm collection was rather unnerving. "Mama, do you attend?"
"Yes, Lizzy dear."
"Mr. Darcy has proposed."
