Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (18 page)

Mr. Steventon, the estate butler, tapped on the door of the morning room. Upon entering, he presented a silver salver to Frederick. “A letter for you, Captain.”

Frederick took the thickly folded missive from the tray.“Thank you, Mr. Steventon,” he murmured.

“Who is it, Frederick?” the Admiral called from his end of the table.

Frederick turned the bundle over in his hand, looking at the post. “The letter has been to Plymouth and back,” he said. “It is from Captain Harville.”

“Open it, open it, Man; tell us where he has settled,” the Admiral said impatiently.

Frederick broke the wax seal to open the three pages that were from Harville but written in Milly’s hand. He sat quietly for a few minutes, perusing the first page. “Thomas has settled with his family at Lyme for the winter.”

“Really?” Sophia commented.“That is not far from here.”

Frederick spoke his thoughts aloud.“How far, do you suppose?”

Sophia looked to Benjamin for specifics. “I would say a little short of twenty miles—by the sea—Lyme is a great port; Harville will like it there.”

Frederick’s eyebrows contracted as he frowned. “What is it, Dear?” Sophia asked.

He still held the letter in front of him. “Milly Harville wrote a few lines regarding Thomas’s deteriorating condition. He has not been in good health since receiving that severe wound to his leg two years ago.” His jaw took on a hard line. He stood quickly and announced, “I believe I will go upstairs and pack a bag; I will ride
to Lyme today if neither of you have an objection to my borrowing one of the horses again.”

“Of course not, Frederick,” the Admiral assured him. “Stay a day or two with your old friend.”

“Friends,” Frederick corrected him. “It seems Captain James Benwick has taken up residence with the Harvilles. He still grieves for Fanny Harville, no doubt, and finds solace in her brother’s home.”

The Admiral stepped into the hallway, and Sophia caught Frederick’s hand before he left the morning room. She spoke in a low voice. “Being away from Uppercross for a few days—placing distance between yourself and those in attendance there—is probably for the best—it will give you time to think.”

“It will be what it will be, Sophia. I cannot manipulate it through my own will.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I will see you in a few days, my Dear.”

—William Blake,“Eternity”

 

Milly Harville opened the door to her cottage. “Frederick Wentworth, as I live and breathe!” she said as she embraced him. “Do come in,” she said, ushering him into a living room. “Thomas will be delighted to see you; he longs for your company.You received his letter?”

“I did.” Frederick shot a quick look about the room, taking in its sparse furnishings.

She followed his eyes with hers. “It is not much, but I insisted we economize until Thomas can find steady work.” She gestured toward a comfortable chair while taking his hat and greatcoat.

“There is no need to explain, Milly.” Frederick took the seat to which she indicated.

“I do not mind. You are Thomas’s closest friend.” She seated herself across from him. “Thomas will arrive at any moment, and you should know how things are before he does.”

“I am your servant, Milly.” Frederick took a second, longer look at their surroundings.“Tell me what I need to know; you must not stand on ceremony with me.”

“Things have gone poorly for Thomas; a bad investment took a large chunk of his savings, plus his leg injury keeps him from productive work.” Her words struck Frederick as if something had sucked the air from his lungs.“Of course,Thomas’s generous nature did not keep him from denying family and friends their loans.We are not destitute, but unless things change we could soon be.”

“But Thomas took nearly ten thousand pounds with him when he left the service!” The concept of his friend losing so much astounded Frederick.

“I understand your dismay,” she spoke softly. “Thomas never admits his weaknesses.”

Before they could say more, they heard male voices in the entryway. Both stood to greet the men. “Thomas,” Milly said as she rushed forward to take her husband’s hand and to discreetly offer him steadiness as he stepped into the room,“look who came to visit!”

“Wentworth!” he exclaimed. “You were in my thoughts lately, and now you are in front of me.” Harville embraced his old friend.

“Your letter found me, at last.” Frederick teased with a grinned. “Actually, I am with Sophia and the Admiral in Somerset—twenty miles from here.”

“You are so close!” Milly grabbed at his hands.“I did not realize.”

Harville stepped to the side to allow the other man access to his guest.“Hello, Frederick,” James Benwick said as he stepped forward.

“Benwick, I did not realize you were with Thomas until I received his letter.”

James Benwick shot a quick glance at Harville.“Thomas shows me a great kindness.”

They shook hands as Milly began to hustle them into the room. “Come now,” Milly encouraged, “let me find us all some tea and cakes. Thomas, would you check on the children before you sit down?” She rushed toward the kitchen.

“I will see to the children,” Benwick supplied.“Join Wentworth by the fire,Thomas.”

“Thank you, Benwick.”

Thomas Harville slowly lowered his bulk into a nearby chair, balancing his weight on the cane he held in his left hand. Frederick waited, anticipating Thomas’s need for support, before he resettled himself in an accompanying chair. “I am so pleased to see you at last,Wentworth,” Harville sighed deeply with relief as he settled his limbs into the comfort of the cushions. “I have missed your dry
wit. Benwick is not much of a conversationalist; what attracted my sister Fanny to him I will never understand.”

“Love is not to be understood,” Frederick mumbled in response. “Benwick has an intellectual attractiveness, and as I recall your dear Fanny could masquerade as a bluestocking if she came from more austere roots. She read voraciously; Fanny and James found a companionable peace in each other,” Frederick remarked. “That is a rare thing.”

Harville looked off, as if seeing Fanny’s face in his memory. “She possessed such a joy for living. Sometimes it is hard for me to believe she is no longer with us.” With a slight shake of his head, he slowly returned his attention to his friend.

“How goes it with Benwick?” Frederick asked, letting his voice drop in case the man was close at hand.

Thomas glanced toward the door leading to the second story. “His sadness is intense.” Harville searched for the right words. “He was always so bookish—depending on someone else’s words to express his emotions so he does not say much. Milly and I agreed he should be with us. I feared, at first, that he might try to find a watery grave and join Fanny for an eternity. I see some improvement since he came to us—I think the children bring him a quiet joy—but he needs so much more than what we can give him. He needs to find an occupation or a hobby or an interest to distract his mind—something besides the volumes of poetry he reads incessantly.”

Frederick nodded.“When I delivered the news of Fanny’s passing, I never saw such anguish in a man’s face. For two days, Benwick sat at a table—unmoving. No words—no tears—no anger—nothing! He turned everything inward—his grief filled him. He took to his bed for days; and then one day he took a step back to life. James returned to his duties, but even a casual observer could see he did so out of routine; his passion left him.”

“He privately shared that he would not have survived the news if you had not been with him.” Harville shook his head.

“A man like Benwick—a thinking man, a reading man—does not soon forget the woman he loved.” Wentworth whispered, as
images of Anne Elliot crept into his psyche. Even with all the years, he could not erase her from his mind.

“Nature surely played a foul trick on him and my sister.” Harville stretched out his leg to relieve the stiffness seeping into his joints.“It was ironic that just as Benwick earned enough money to give Fanny a life of leisure, the good Lord took her away.”

“Indeed.” Frederick thought about the fortune he now possessed and realized, like Benwick,
he
did not have his love in his life. Anne owned his heart. Perhaps she always would. Could he consider moving on with someone else? Should he try to rekindle what they once had? If he knew she would welcome his attentions, he might be able to forgive her. But he was not certain he could survive if she turned him away again. Maybe he should begin to show her his true feelings in little ways, like he did with the Admiral’s gig the other day, and see how she responded. If positive, he would risk it all—he would make Anne his.

“Are you enjoying your stay with your sister and the Admiral, Wentworth?”Thomas asked.

Frederick smiled. “Sophia and the Admiral are excellent hosts. Except for the occasional hints about marriage, it has been a pleasant sojourn. I still plan to visit Edward and his new wife in Shropshire soon.”

“Your sister believes all naval men to be like the Admiral.” Thomas chuckled.“Not all are as needy as he.”

Frederick laughed lightly. “The Admiral is an astute military man, but he concedes other points in his life to Sophia.They complement each other well.”

“Does Sophia wish you to return to the love you left behind in Somerset eight years ago?” Harville watched Wentworth’s face for a reaction.

“
Nothing
happened in Somerset eight years ago!” Frederick said with a little more frustration than he cared to display.

“That is what your words always say, Wentworth, but your face tells another story. However, you are entitled to keep your secrets. How long can you stay? Please tell me it will be an extended visit.”

“I am to disappoint you then; I have previous engagements at the end of the week, but your letter compelled me to come immediately. I return to Kellynch Hall late tomorrow.”

Thomas looked dissatisfied.“I suppose we will make do.”

Milly Harville entered the room at that instant, carrying a tray of teacups and a plate of finger cakes.“I hope you stay for supper, Captain Wentworth,” she offered as she placed the tray on a low table.

“I will, Milly.” Wentworth smiled up at her. “But I insist the Harville family and Captain Benwick be my guests at the inn. It will be my pleasure to give you an evening away from the kitchen.”

“That will not be necessary, Captain,” she protested.

“Milly, I did not say it was
necessary
. I said it would be my
pleasure
to entertain you for a change.” Frederick turned to his friend. “Tell her,Thomas—remind your wife how often over the years she took care of you and me when we were deep in our cups. She deserves an evening without waiting on the two of us.”

Thomas Harville let his eyes drift slowly over Milly, caressing her with his smile. “The man is right, my Love.” A note of sadness entered his words. “You deserve more from life. Let the captain thank you for being devoted to your family and friends.”

Milly handed Thomas a cup of tea and spoke affectionately,“Life gave me you and the children, Thomas. I could not ask for more.”

“Excellent!” said Frederick. “We will be a lively party. Let me visit the innkeeper, so he can prepare for us properly. I shall return shortly.” Wentworth stood and quickly moved to the door. He looked back just in time to see Thomas Harville intertwine his fingers with his wife’s and pull her onto his lap for an embrace. The domestic picture increased Frederick’s loneliness—what he would not give to know Anne as his friend knew Milly.

Returning to the Harvilles’ dwelling after supper, Frederick sat up late with Thomas, sipping weak ale, which he found tolerable only because of the company. “You have been quite industrious in making this place a home,” Wentworth offered up a compliment. “Benwick pointed out the shelves you fashioned for his volumes of poetry; he praised you profusely for it. I see fruits of your labors
spread throughout the house—a chair, a table, new netting needles and pins, the fishing net in the corner, toys for the children.” Unconsciously, Frederick picked up a Jacob’s Ladder left behind by Harville’s daughter when Milly carried the child to bed. Instinctively, he examined the workmanship—the way the wood segments turned within the colorful grosgrain ribbon strips in an inexplicable illusion of simplicity.“I never understood how these things work,” he said as he shoved the toy across the table to his friend.

Harville chortled.“You no longer possess a child’s imagination, my Friend. Here, try the Bilbo Catcher instead.”Thomas playfully tossed the ball attached to the string and adeptly caught it on the end of the spindle, balancing it there before releasing it to spin once again.

“You made all these?” Frederick moved to the wooden crate in the corner of the room. He took out toy after toy, laying them on the floor in front of the box, displaying a variety of cup-and-ball toys, dice games, tabletop ninepins, a whip top, solid wood grace hoops, a hammered-lead musket ball whirligig, and several peg games.