Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (14 page)

Frederick was struck more by Anne’s question than by his sister’s answer.
Was that the reason? Was Anne afraid to follow me to sea?
It was something he never considered; he always assumed she did not love him enough to face the hardships together. She was but nineteen in ’06. She was larger than life in memory, and he never thought of her as afraid of what he offered. Could she have handled life on a ship? Could she have borne any separations, living alone in a seaport? Sophia had been young when she married Benjamin, but she had not led a sheltered life, and a woman of four and twenty is different from a girl of nineteen. He needed to think; he needed to decide where Anne Elliot fit into his life.

Louisa Musgrove appeared beside him. “Have we said something to offend you, Captain Wentworth?” Her soft eyes told him she would eagerly receive his attentions. Even if he considered renewing his regard for Anne, he could not be sure she would receive him willingly. He would not allow Anne the opportunity to humiliate him again; his heart could not survive such a rebuff.Why not accept what was in front of him?
Why not accept a sure thing?

“Of course not, Miss Musgrove. I was just taking in the splendor of the evening.” He offered her a genuine smile.

“Anne agreed to play for us.” Louisa leaned in a bit too close for propriety, but no one, except him, seemed to notice her forwardness. “I hoped you would dance with me, Captain.”

He chuckled at her flirtatiousness, remembering another daring young lady, who had asked him to be her supper partner, many years earlier.

“With pleasure, Miss Musgrove,” he said. And he offered her his arm.

—Emily Dickinson,
“After Great Pain,A Formal Feeling Comes”

 

Frederick and Louisa moved to the area in the music room cleared for dancing; furtively, he shot a quick glance at Anne as she settled herself on the bench at the pianoforte. She withdrew mentally from the party.
Again
, he thought,
again, she desires nothing but to be unobserved.

Louisa Musgrove enthusiastically twirled about him in the quadrille, and Frederick could not help but laugh, watching her smiling up at him. “You seem quite happy this evening,” he said as he passed her in the form.

“Do I?” She giggled as they came together. “Perhaps it is the company I keep.”

Frederick moved away, circling Sophia and Charles Musgrove. When he and Louisa joined hands to move down the line, he leaned toward her and spoke to her hair. “You are very bold, Miss Musgrove.”

“I am sure of what I want in my life, Captain Wentworth.”

“Interesting, Miss Musgrove.” His face did not betray his thoughts. He was thirteen years her senior and, despite his brave words to Sophia and Benjamin, he certainly did not know what he wanted in his life.

After the dance, they joined Henrietta and the Hayter sisters, all waiting patiently for their turns to dance with him.“Do you know
how to waltz, Captain Wentworth?” Miss Caroline Hayter, the eldest, asked nervously.

“I do, Miss Hayter. Most officers are familiar with the more popular dances. We find it quite useful when we are required to attend naval functions.”

“I wish Mama would allow us to waltz.” Henrietta sighed with regret.“She believes it to be a quite scandalous dance.What do you think, Captain?”

Frederick did not know how to answer.Waltzing with the right woman in his arms could be very
stimulating
, but a gentleman did not say such a thing. Instead, he tried to divert their imaginings.“In London, before a lady of the
ton
may waltz, she must be presented at Almack’s and receive permission from one of the patronesses there—Lady Jersey, Princess Lieven, or Lady Castlereaugh. The three are quite content to control Society from their lofty perches. It is even rumored they once turned away the Duke of Wellington himself for wearing trousers instead of knee breeches.”The girls all giggled at his description of life in London’s best parlor rooms. “Will any of you experience a Season this year?”

“Oh, no,” Louisa assured him in serious tones,“we will never experience the
ton
and its wicked ways.The Elliots and Lady Russell are the extent of Father’s tolerance for the nobility.We will all find matches in the country. Living in London sounds exciting, but Papa would never tolerate the number of soirees and balls in a Season.”

It was a merry, joyous party, and Frederick’s spirits were high. How could a man not enjoy an evening in which
four
young women vied for his notice? The Misses Musgrove and the Misses Hayter hung on Frederick’s every word—his every gesture. At a pause in the music, he moved to the instrument bench to pick out a tune.They crowded around, eager to tease him about his inability to play well.

“Oh, Captain,” Miss Hayter vowed, “your playing is perfectly awful!”They all snickered.

He laughed along with them. “Playing the pianoforte is not in the domain of most sailors.”Yet, he continued to stroke the keys,
aimlessly searching for the right tune, as he spoke.

“Would there be room aboard a ship for my new harp?” Henrietta questioned.

“Of course, there is room for such an extravagance; but I am not sure how the sea air might affect the instrument.”

Looking up, he saw Anne approaching the bench. Not wishing her presence to intrude on the vignette he created in his mind where he received the notice of women purely because he was an eligible prospect and where he had no history with Anne, he stood up abruptly, wishing to put the specter of Anne Elliot behind him. “I beg your pardon, Madam, this is your seat.” He bowed.

“No, Captain, please, do not let me disturb you.” Anne’s soft voice betrayed her embarrassment at his studied politeness. She immediately drew back with a decided negative, but he was not to be induced to sit down again.

“I insist, Madam.” He offered his arm to Henrietta, and the five of them walked away. Frederick seemed calm on the outside, but that short intercourse changed his reality. When the music began again, he shared the floor with the younger Jane Hayter and then with Sophia, and finally with Henrietta. Throughout, despite his best intentions, his gaze sought Anne; it was impossible for him not to notice her eyes would sometimes fill with tears as she sat at the instrument. He observed her altered features, trying to trace in them the ruins of the face, which once charmed him.

“Miss Henrietta,” he asked against his will, “does Miss Elliot never dance?”

“Oh! No, never, she quite gave up dancing. She had rather play. She never tires of playing.”

The words shot through him. Anne never danced! How had that happened? Anne lost everything she loved about life. Frederick shook his head in disbelief. His vivacious Anne now found her only meaning in life in being employed for her family’s pleasures—her life held no greater promise. Loving him had cost her dearly.

“It appears, Frederick, that you no longer intend to leave for
Shropshire to see Edward and his new wife,” Sophia teased him.

Frederick’s eyebrow shot up in amusement.“Do you wish to be rid of me, Sister dear?”

“You know better. Stay as long as you like. Benjamin enjoys your company; you remind him of his time at sea.” She handed him a cup of tea.“Do you call at Uppercross today?”

He took a sip of the strong brew.“I have a standing invitation to do so daily.”

“What occupies your time with the Musgroves?” Frederick realized Sophia wanted to know if he considered one of the Musgrove ladies as marriage material, but he made no such decision. For the moment, he simply enjoyed the attractions of Uppercross. There was so much of friendliness, and of flattery, and of everything most bewitching in his reception there; the old were so hospitable, the young so agreeable, that he could not but resolve to remain where he was, and take all the charms and perfections of Edward’s wife upon credit for a little longer.

“Charles enjoys his sport; we often hunt or shoot. I walk out with the Misses Musgrove; we walk into the village or visit at the Cottage. One sunny day we spent the afternoon at croquet—another at archery. The days are pleasant with such amiable company.” He paused before adding, “Their cousin Charles Hayter of Winthrop joined us for supper last night.”

“Really?” Sophia mused.“How did you find the curate?”

“His disquiet seemed out of place on such a homecoming. From what I understand, Hayter was away a fortnight. The Musgroves seemed pleased that he might discharge his curacy duties soon at Uppercross itself as Dr. Shirley’s assistant. I wish Edward could have experienced such opportunities early on.”

“He seems well situated now,” Sophia noted as she refilled her teacup.“I suppose you dine at Uppercross again this evening?”

Frederick smiled to himself. “I believe I will. He stood and returned his empty cup to the tray.“I will take my leave, Sophia, as soon as I change my waistcoat.” She tilted her head up to receive the kiss he bent to bestow upon her cheek. He tapped her nose
tenderly with his index finger. “And if I were to choose one or another of the Musgroves for my wife, you would be the first to know.” He winked at her and then strode from the room.

“The ladies are all at the Cottage,” Mrs. Musgrove told him when he presented himself at the Great House. “You are welcome to wait, Captain, but if I know my daughters, it will be some time. Mrs. Charles received a new book of fashion plates. I am sure Henrietta and Louisa are making plans for creating the latest fashions for their holiday dresses.”

“Perhaps, Ma’am, I will walk to the Cottage and offer my services upon their return.” He bowed to excuse himself.

“That is an excellent idea, Captain Wentworth.” She chuckled as she picked up her embroidery. “I have no doubt your presence will delight Henrietta and Louisa.”

Less than a quarter of an hour later, Frederick presented himself to the servant who answered the door at the Cottage and was immediately shown into the drawing room. He stopped short, finding only Anne and Little Charles in the room. Little Charles, still recovering from his fall, lay on the sofa;Anne sat next to him.

“Fred—” she blurted out and caught herself. “Captain Wentworth—welcome, Sir.” She stood and curtsied.

Her near use of his Christian name deprived his manners of their usual composure: He started and could only say, “I thought the Misses Musgrove were here—Mrs. Musgrove told me this is where I might find them.” Surprised at being almost alone with Anne Elliot, he walked to the window to collect himself and to feel how he ought to behave. He clasped his hands behind his back and focused his attention on the withered flowers of the garden.

Anne too stammered in embarrassment. “They—they are upstairs with my sister—they will be down in a few minutes, I dare say.”

“Aunt Anne,” Little Charles’s voice called her to his side.“May I have some water?”

She busied herself with bringing the boy his water, cradling his head as he held his lips to the glass. “Let me rub your arms and
legs; lying still so long is nearly as tiring as being outside, is it not, Sweetheart?” She began to gently massage the boy’s arms, working her way slowly down his limbs, offering the comfort of her touch and her attention.

Frederick remained at the window, but he knew good manners demanded he say something. He turned to face her. “I hope the little boy is better.” His words brought Anne’s eyes to his; she smiled and nodded. Anne caressed the boy’s cheek with the palm of her hand.The picture of the two of them together brought images of Anne with her own children—with
their
children. It was a vision that had haunted him for years.

The sound of some other person crossing the little vestibule made Frederick pray to see Charles Musgrove. Instead, Charles Hayter stepped briskly into the room.