Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (2 page)

Commander Frederick Wentworth made his way across Somerset. The sway of the public carriage along the uneven roadway reminded him of the rolling motion of the sea; at least, it did as long as he kept his eyes closed.When he had opened them an hour or so earlier, the grandmotherly woman sitting across the way had questioned him about the war and about his prospects. He assumed she had an eligible woman somewhere in her family, but Frederick had no intention of pursuing the subject. When he chose a wife, it would be a woman with whom he could share his hopes and dreams—one who would recognize his potential. So he had closed his eyes again, feigning sleep and imagining that he strode the decks of his own ship.

Passing through Uppercross, he finally allowed himself the pleasure of looking at the rolling countryside, which was peppered
with herds of sheep and Brinny cattle grazing in the fields. His brother, Edward, resided as the curate at Monkford, and Frederick planned to spend part of his leave catching up with him. Quiet time was a pleasant prospect after the action he had seen of late. Of course, he had not been with his sister’s husband, Benjamin Croft, and Nelson as they defeated Admiral Vileneuve at Trafalgar, but Frederick had seen his share of battles. Like Benjamin, he expected to use the war with the French emperor to make his fortune. Thoughts of his sister brought Frederick a pang of loneliness; Sophia and Benjamin shared a rare love. “Someday,” he whispered to himself.“Someday, I will turn my head—”

The slowing of the horses interrupted his thoughts. “Uppercross!” the driver shouted.“Changing horses!”

Frederick disembarked from the carriage and looked around. People hurried back and forth at the posting inn. Knowing he had not much further to go, he chose only to stretch his legs in the inn yard rather than spend his money on libation inside the crowded tavern.

“How much time?” he inquired of the groom as the man unhitched the horses.

“More than a quarter hour—less than a half hour,” the man responded.The driver leaned over the edge to take the mail pouch from the innkeeper.

Frederick looked at the village, which was a smattering of houses and shops.“I shall take a short walk,” he told the driver as he started away toward the village.

The driver called to his retreating form,“We will not wait!”

Frederick did not even look back. He just raised his hand to let the man know he had heard the warning. Uppercross, a moderate-sized village, was designed in the old English style. He passed a gate, which led to a house, substantial and unmodernized, of superior appearance, especially when compared to those of the yeomen and laborers. With its high walls, great gates, and old trees, Frederick envisioned a veranda, French windows, and other prettiness, quite likely to catch the traveler’s eye.

Strolling along the wooden walkways, he paused only to look in some of the shop windows. Seeing a fan he knew Sophia would love, he smiled. On impulse, he entered the shop; he would buy the fan for his sister. He could leave it with Edward to mail to her for her birthday. It would surprise the highly critical Sophia to know her seafarer brother had planned for her birthday long before the actual event.

Frederick chose the item and then, having paid for it, turned to leave; but he could not depart, for the shop’s door swung open suddenly, and two ladies swept into the room. The first, a very handsome woman, dominated the space.A strong French perfume wafted over him as he allowed his eyes to assay her beauty. Her hair was nearly black, her eyes were brown, and her long nose had a distinctly aristocratic look. Belatedly, Frederick offered her a polite bow as she brushed past him, barely acknowledging his presence.“Miss Elliot!” he heard the shopkeeper say, his voice suddenly very alert.

Frederick had seen the type before. Usually, he preferred to avoid women of high Society, finding most of them too consumed with their own petty interests to be worth his time. Let them spend their days gossiping and shopping; he preferred a woman with an elegance of mind—a woman with a sweetness of character.

He stepped away from the domineering Miss Elliot and headed for the door; his carriage would be leaving soon. The second woman remained by the entry; he started to move around her, and then she raised her eyes to his. Frederick froze. Her delicate features and mild, dark eyes mesmerized him in an instant. For some reason, she did not look away, and neither did he. Instead, he stood before her, gazing down into her doe like eyes, watching them darken and sparkle and wondering if she could feel the fire burning in him. She flushed and raised her slim, slightly square jaw a bit; her ramrod-straight back made her appear taller than she was. In fact, she barely came to his shoulder. She said nothing, simply continued to look deeply into his eyes. Frederick found himself unexpectedly amused by the situation, and one eyebrow shot up.

“Come,Anne,” the other woman demanded, and Frederick saw
a flash of embarrassment play across her face. She ducked her head, allowing her bonnet to shadow her features once again.

“Pardon me,” he said, choking out the words; his throat was suddenly very dry. He desperately wanted to say more to her, but she had slipped away to her companion, who was thumbing through pages of fashion plates.

Frederick opened the door to depart, but he could not resist the urge to look at her one more time. His heart skipped a beat as she raised her head. She gave him a quick smile before turning her attention to bolts of material. Frederick paused; the faint smell of lavender surrounded him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Closing the shop’s door and returning to the walkway, he murmured, “Beautiful.” Smiling, he headed toward the inn yard.

Within the hour, Frederick found himself sitting in his brother’s cottage. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” Edward said as he handed his brother a cup of tea.“You have filled out since we last saw each other.The sea is good for your constitution.”

Frederick chuckled. “It is, Edward; it is even better for my purse. I could leave the war with a governmental position, if I so wished, and a reasonable fortune.”

Sitting down across the table from him, Edward nodded his agreement.“I know it is your wish, Frederick, to be acknowledged for your accomplishments. However, you must realize society is slow to change. Even a sizable fortune will not allow you to live within more than the fringes of fine society. An earl one step from debtor’s prison will always be accepted quicker than a commoner with accrued wealth. Name is still more powerful than wealth.”

“It should not be so.” Frederick’s words held a steely determination.

Edward added another sugar to his tea. “The aristocracy is not likely to change, my Brother, but if anyone can bend it to his will, it is you. Now, what would you like to do during your stay? I receive a few invitations on a regular basis. My position allows me some degree of respectability in country society, at least.”

Frederick’s thoughts went immediately to the dark eyes and the
slender form of the woman called Anne. A fleeting smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Anything, Edward. I simply came to enjoy your company and to feel normal again. A taste for what I am fighting will go a long way when I must return to my ship.”

“How is Harville?” Edward asked as he put his empty cup away.

Frederick chuckled. “He is in love once again. He swears this time he will marry the woman, but I have heard such protestations before. Like me, he returned home to visit his friends and family. His sister Fanny is coming of age soon, and Harville wants to assure himself that she will make no choices without his permission.”

“I would hate to be in his shoes.” Edward began to pick up Frederick’s belongings to take them to his room. “With a mother and sisters and aunts for whom he is responsible, Harville will always be caring for some woman or another.”

“Luckily, the man has a generous nature.” Frederick rose to follow his brother.“If I ever needed someone on my side, Harville would be my first choice of all my shipmates.”

The next evening found the Wentworth brothers at a neighborhood assembly. Edward Wentworth had earned the respect of the local gentry, and they welcomed his brother.Wearing his dress uniform, Frederick cut a fine figure, and more than one mother began to concoct ways to draw his address to her eligible daughter. He relished the attention; having been at sea for so long, Frederick craved the notice of English society, and now he imagined his place within the social structure of the country he called home.

He stood with Edward and several other men when he felt her enter the room. Even without turning around, Frederick knew that she was there. He knew it in his heart—he knew it in the shiver that ran down his spine.Turning slowly, he half expected to see “his Anne” standing in the doorway. Instead, he found a man of aristocratic rank posing in the entrance and waiting to be announced. Ostentatiously attired, a young woman—the same lady Frederick had noted in the village shop—stood by his side, her hand resting lightly on his proffered arm.

A voice rang out: “Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch Hall. Miss Elizabeth Elliot. Lady Russell. Miss Anne Elliot.” A path cleared as the members of the Elliot party walked the length of the assembly hall and took their places on the raised dais at the far end of the room. His body was correct;
she
was there. Miss Anne Elliot followed at the rear of her family, a tiny smile curving her lips. She fascinated him; as a woman of rank, Frederick knew she could easily marry a man of considerable wealth. But Miss Anne Elliot, unlike the rest of her family, did not possess vanity. What she had was a remarkable poise, a possession of the self.

“Steady, Frederick,” Edward whispered in his ear. “Miss Elizabeth Elliot is not for you. She is to marry the heir apparent; at least, that is the accepted rumor.”

Frederick’s eyes never left Anne Elliot. “I am not looking at Miss Elliot.”

Edward followed his brother’s gaze. “Miss Anne?” he inquired. “She is the more
amiable
one.”

“Let us get something to drink,” Frederick added quickly, realizing his attention had become noticeable to those around him. Retrieving lemonades, the brothers moved off to speak privately. “Tell me what you know of the Elliots,” Frederick commanded his brother.

“Sir Walter is a proud—no,
conceited
—aristocrat. Vanity is the beginning and end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character: vanity of person and of situation. Reportedly, he was remarkably handsome as a youth; few women could think more of their appearance than he does of his own. He considers the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy.”

“Where is Lady Elliot?” Frederick asked as he forced his eyes from Anne Elliot once more.

“She passed before I arrived in the area,” Edward said. “Some six or seven years ago,” he added. “I know little about her except what I have heard. She was a woman of very superior character from all reports—an excellent woman, sensible and amiable, whose judgment and conduct, if they might be pardoned the youthful
infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, never required indulgence afterward.” Frederick chuckled at his brother’s attempt at sarcasm. “She humored, or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world herself, she found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she was called on to quit them.” Edward’s eyes misted with the thought of how God often takes the best to heaven early. “Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a conceited silly father.”

Frederick could not resist asking the obvious question: “Why has Sir Walter never remarried?”

“Other than himself, Sir Walter is not likely to believe anyone worthy of his attention. Some thought he might choose Lady Russell; she was Lady Elliot’s intimate friend, but they did not marry, whatever might have been anticipated on that head by their acquaintance. But he did bring her to live close by in the village of Kellynch, where she serves as a confidante for the daughters. It is said she holds great sway over their lives, especially over Miss Anne.”