Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (11 page)

Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove were young ladies of nineteen and twenty, respectively, who were brought from a school at Exeter—they possessed all the usual stock of accomplishments, and were now, like thousands of other young ladies, living to be fashionable, happy, and merry. Their dress had every advantage; their faces were rather pretty; their spirits extremely good; their manners
unembarrassed and pleasant; they were of consequence at home and favorites abroad.

“Captain, oh, dear Captain, you have no idea how pleased we are to receive you,” assured Mrs. Musgrove. “We are anticipating the arrival of our daughter Mrs. Charles and her sister, Miss Anne Elliot. Please have a seat; they will be with us in a few minutes. Miss Anne is newly come from Kellynch Hall.” Mrs. Musgrove seated herself on the settee across from his chair.

Hearing Anne’s name and realizing within a few minutes he would see her once again, Frederick steeled his composure. After eight years, Anne would be in the same room as he. Sweat formed on his forehead, and, he unobtrusively, wiped it away with his handkerchief.Yet, before he could think further on what he would say or do, a servant rushed into the room.“Oh, Mrs. Musgrove,” the woman gasped.“Dear me!”

“What is it, Jemima?” Mr. Musgrove rushed forward. “Is it Charles?”

“Lord, no, Mr. Musgrove,” she gulped for air. “It is Little Charles; he fell from a tree.The whole house is at sixes and sevens. Miss Anne sent for the apothecary, informed Master Charles, kept Mrs. Charles from hysterics, and sent me here to inform you. She begs you to forgive their not attending you.”

Mrs. Musgrove forgot all about their honored guest.“Father, we need to go immediately.”

“Of course, my Dear. Retrieve your wrap. I will have the carriage brought around at once. Forgive us, Captain Wentworth; we must attend to the disturbance at Uppercross Cottage.You will call upon us again on the morrow? Right now I must see to my heir—to Little Charles.”

“Naturally, Mr. Musgrove; have no doubt. I will see myself out.” Frederick rose quickly to leave. “As far as our engagement, I will wait until I hear from you on your grandson’s progress before I call upon you again.Your attention needs to be there, Sir, not with me.”

“Thank you, Captain. Now we must leave you. Hurry, girls.” So saying, he led Wentworth to the hallway and shook his hand before
turning toward his approaching wife.

On the walk back to Kellynch Hall, Frederick brooded. He had come so close to seeing Anne again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his breeches and cursed under his breath, realizing how flushed he felt. A band constricted his chest, and he could barely breathe. “Damn it,” he murmured.“What am I to do? I must see her to rid myself of Anne Elliot, but how will I be able to look upon her once more?” He straightened his shoulders and took deep breaths, trying to quiet his troubled heart.“Tomorrow, then,” he thought out loud. “One more day will see us together.” With a new resolve to be stoic, he continued his walk toward Kellynch Hall.

Frederick called on the Musgroves the next evening, having received word earlier in the day of the continued progress of the child. “I must tell you, Captain, I experienced great uneasiness about my heir.” Mr. Musgrove took a deep drink of port.

“I was a bit surprised to receive word regarding tonight’s entertainment.” Frederick let his eyes drift to the others at the table. It amused him to see the Misses Musgrove hang on his every word. If only Anne could see him now!
Pity that she could not be here.

From the tidbits of conversation he had overheard, Frederick determined that Mary Elliot Musgrove possessed much of the Elliot pride. She was often unwell and out of spirits, although she appeared quite animated on this particular evening. It took him only moments to realize that Mary had not Anne’s understanding or temper.While well and happy and properly attended to, she possessed great good humor and excellent spirits; but, evidently, any indisposition sunk her completely; she had no resources for solitude. She had inherited a considerable share of the Elliot self-importance and was prone to add to every other distress that of fancying herself neglected and ill used. In Frederick’s opinion, she was inferior to both sisters.

Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense and temper, he was undoubtedly superior to his wife, but not of powers of conversation or of discrimination. In Frederick’s estimation, a more
equal match might greatly improve him, and a woman of real understanding might give more consequence to his character, and more usefulness, rationality, and polish to his habits and pursuits. Musgrove was single-minded in quest of his sport; it appeared he did nothing with much zeal, but sport; and his time was otherwise trifled away, without benefit from books or anything else. Frederick could not imagine a life of such indolence.Yet, the man had very good spirits, which never seemed much affected by his wife’s occasional lowness; bore with her unreasonableness; and, upon the whole, though there was very often a little disagreement, they passed for a happy couple.

“The child had a good night,” Charles Musgrove confided to Frederick,“and the doctor, Mr. Robinson, found nothing to increase alarm, so I saw no necessity for longer confinement. What can a father do?” Frederick kept his thoughts on the subject to himself.

“I agree, Boy,” Mr. Musgrove added quickly. “This is quite a female case, and it would be highly absurd of you, who could be of no use at home, to shut yourself up. Besides I wished you to make the captain’s acquaintance.”

“Is your sister with the child?” Despite his brooding case of nerves and ill temper, the fact Anne did not arrive with the Musgroves disappointed Frederick. He would like to know how she felt as to a meeting. Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under such circumstances. She must be indifferent or unwilling—unwilling to face him.

Mary joined the conversation.“I told Charles, to be sure, I may just as well come as not, for I am of no use at home—am I?” She turned to her husband for confirmation of what she said. “And it only harasses me. My sister Anne has not a mother’s feelings and is a great deal the properest person. She can make Little Charles do anything; he always minds her at a word. It is a great deal better than leaving him with only Jemima.”

Anne has a way with children. Of course.
How often Frederick envisioned her with a babe in her arms—her child—his child? Pain crept into the pit of his stomach.

“It was very kind of Anne,” Charles assured everyone in earshot. “I wanted her to join us in the evening when the child might be at rest for the night. I urged her to let me come and fetch her, but she was quite unpersuadable.”

“I am sorry Miss Anne could not join us.We met when I was here before, and it would have been—ah—pleasant to see her again.” Frederick felt the necessity of escaping an introduction when they were to meet.

“I never realized you knew my sister!” Mary exclaimed.

“As I recall, you were away at school when I visited Somerset some years ago,” was all the explanation he offered before turning his attention to Louisa Musgrove.

The evening continued with music, singing, talking, and laughing; Frederick found it all most agreeable. He forced himself to be charming, leaving his pensive thoughts of Anne in the deep recesses of his mind. He and the Musgroves took to each other quickly; they seemed all to know each other perfectly.“Then you will come for breakfast before we go shooting?” Charles Musgrove confirmed when they said their good-byes.

“Not at the Cottage,” Frederick added. Impulsively, he had decided against seeing Anne. If she chose not to let Charles bring her for the evening’s end, she, evidently, did not want to see Frederick. He would not force himself upon her.“I would not wish to be in Mrs. Charles’s way on account of the child.”

“Then we will meet here at the Great House,” Charles decided.

“Tomorrow,” Frederick confirmed. He bowed, first to the ladies and then to the Musgrove men. He mounted the horse he had borrowed from the Kellynch stables and headed back toward his sister’s home.

—Lord Byron,“When We Two Parted”

 

“So beautiful.” The words brought Anne’s attention to the figure reclining lazily against the pillows. She sat reading a book of poetry as she tended his bedside.“Did you know I fell in love with you the first time I saw you in the mercantile? Your face—those delicately molded features and dark eyes—captivated me immediately. Somehow, I felt that we understood each other. Odd, is it not?”

She smiled tenderly at him. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she reached out and pushed the hair away from his forehead. “You did not look away. You charmed me.” Anne leaned forward and whispered in his ear.“I saw your eyes darken with something I did not understand at the time.” She kissed his temple and his cheek.

Frederick’s breath caught in his throat. “I saw the sparkle in your eyes. Suddenly, I had a mad desire to be the only one to make your eyes glow in that way.”

“I am thrilled that you are feeling better, my Love. I feared I might lose you.”

“Never again. Perhaps even the Angel of Death is deterred by love.”

Just then there came a knock at the door, and the ship’s doctor announced himself. “Ah, Captain,” he called as he entered the
room. “It is time to get you up out of that bed.” He immediately started checking Frederick’s wounds.

“Are you sure, Dr. Laraby?”Anne looked concerned.“Is this not too soon?”

“No, it is not,” Laraby firmly denied her words.“He needs exercise, or he will become weaker. And you need to see something other than these four walls for a while. Look at her, Captain; see how pale she is.Your wife has done nothing but tend you, night and day, for nearly five days now. Command her, Wentworth; she ignores me.”

Frederick turned his gaze on Anne. Laraby was right; she was white-faced and gaunt, and, if possible, she lost weight. “Anne,” he said mournfully,“I am sorry I did not notice.”

“You needed me,” she said simply.

“I did; I do,” he corrected.“But because I need you, my Love, I want you to take care of yourself. Please leave, Sweetheart; go do something special for you.” He took her hand in his, bringing her fingertips to his lips for a lingering kiss.“Do not make me give you a direct order, Sweetling.” His eyes lit up with amusement.

He watched as she playfully raised an eyebrow in mocked contempt. “Can you spell mutiny, my Love?” she teased.

“M-u-t . . .” Her laughter cut off the end of the word.

She conceded,“I will go, but please note it is not with a willing heart.”

“So noted,” he quipped.“Now get out of here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She offered a half-hearted salute before dropping him a quick curtsy.

As she left, Laraby ushered in Lieutenants Avendale and Harwood once again. “We need to get the captain on his feet; I want him walking about the room.”

His men supported his every move, allowing him to lean his weight on their shoulders. With his teeth gritted, Frederick made his way haltingly to and fro across the room. Each movement was dizzying, and he periodically paused when the pain became too intense.

“That is enough for now,” Laraby declared, and he motioned the sailors to help Frederick to sit on his bunk. “We will have you up again a little later today.”

Frederick collapsed to a seated position on the side of the bed.“Thanks for the warning, Laraby,” he hissed through the settling pain.

“You know it is best; so quit your complaining.” Laraby supported Frederick’s shoulders as the captain pivoted on the bed, swinging his long legs up and over the edge. He gasped as he lay back against the pillows.

“Do you need more laudanum?”

“Not just yet,” Frederick said as he pushed himself up on his pillows.

Laraby pulled the blanket over Frederick’s long frame. “Soon, then. Shall I have a man come in to shave you? That might make you feel better.”

“I think I would enjoy that,” Frederick agreed. “Mrs. Wentworth would appreciate seeing a shaved face when she returns.”

Laraby sent for Wentworth’s assistant before saying, “Your wife is devoted to you, Sir.You are fortunate to have earned such regard. I have heard that you two are newly wed. Not wishing to seem rude, Sir, I am surprised some man did not claim her attentions long ago.”

Frederick smiled.“Some man did—me.” He looked off in space visualizing Anne as he first saw her. “We are indeed newly wed, although we are not in the first blush of youth. I wooed her in ’06, but we were young, and things were not to be. I assumed I had lost Mrs.Wentworth until I returned to her home country to visit with my sister Sophia and the Admiral.Then we were thrown together through mutual acquaintances.”