Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (24 page)

“Where is Henrietta?”

“Miss Henrietta is in the carriage with Miss Anne. I wanted the opportunity to speak to you and Mrs. Musgrove first; Henrietta is a bit distraught. I did not want to upset her further.”

Mr. Musgrove stepped past Frederick and reached for the brandy decanter. He poured himself one and tossed it off before refilling the glass.“How did it happen? I need to know everything before I tell Mrs. Musgrove.” He stood with his back to Frederick, his shoulders hunched, trying to ward off reality.

“It was
my
fault, Sir. I encouraged Louisa to be adventurous. She jumped from the seawall. I tried to catch her, but I was too late. It was purely my fault. I know not what else to say, Sir.”

Mr. Musgrove started past him. “I will tell Mrs. Musgrove—if you would be so kind as to bring Henrietta in? I am sure that Mother will want to assure herself of Henrietta’s safety.” He patted Frederick’s shoulder.

“I will return to Lyme this evening, as soon as I refresh the horses and retrieve some clothing from Kellynch. If you wish to send anything to Charles or Mary or Louisa, I will gladly take it with me.” Frederick stood in supplication.“I beg your forgiveness, Sir.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Captain.” Mr. Musgrove moved dejectedly toward the stairs.

Frederick returned to the carriage, where Henrietta and Anne sat.“Your parents need your help, Miss Henrietta,” he said without emotion as he helped her from the carriage.

“Thank you, Captain.” She rushed up the steps and through the door, still being held open by the footman.

Frederick turned to help Anne.“If you could see that the Musgroves gather some items for your sister and Charles, I would appreciate it. I will look to the horses.When they are fed properly, I am to Kellynch and then back to Lyme.”

“I shall take care of it; a footman will bring out the items.” She paused, obviously, not wanting to part from him; Frederick, too, lingered.

“Thank you, Anne. If not for you, today would have been even worse.Thank you for your good counsel.”

“I did no more than anyone else, and a good deal less than some.”

Again, silence prevailed. So much needed saying, but neither of them had a right to speak the words. “I suppose, then, that this is farewell,” he said as he took the bridle of the nearest horse to lead it away.

“Good-bye, Captain.” She gave him one last look and then hurried up the steps and into the mansion.

“Good-bye, my Dearest Anne,” he whispered to her retreating form.

Frederick stopped at Kellynch to give Sophia and Benjamin the news and to gather some of his belongings. He sent Ned Steventon
to prepare his clothes, anticipating a lengthy stay in Lyme.

Reluctantly, he entered one of the bedrooms in the east wing. He knew exactly which one it was, having innocently asked Ned several weeks ago. Sophia refused to use this wing of the house—it was where the Elliots lived. Frederick closed the door quietly behind him, before taking the candle and holding it high.This had been Anne’s room, and although most of her personal items were no longer evident, Frederick felt he needed to be there, where she had once slept.

Setting the candle on the nightstand, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. He looked about him, envisioning Anne moving around the room—dressing behind the screen—writing letters at the desk—standing by the window—observing the garden below. She would never be his; he knew that now. Lying back, he stared up at the canopy above his head.
His Anne
had slept in this very bed, and Frederick found himself grasping the pillow to his chest, trying to smell the lavender she always wore. A pain shot through his heart; happiness eluded him. A quarter hour passed in this way. Then he resolutely shook off the despondency filling his whole being. “I had best return to Lyme,” he said out loud. “I must finish what I started.”

Returning to the Harvilles’ house, Frederick joined those gathered in the downstairs sitting room. As expected, Charles had taken the latest news of Louisa’s recovery to his parents that very day. Frederick had barely arrived in Lyme before Musgrove was on his way to Uppercross. When Frederick showed up at the house, Musgrove greeted him and said wearily,“Mrs. Harville is exceptional. She has handled everything. Mary had a fainting spell, and so she and I returned early to the inn last night. Mary was hysterical again this morning, but Captain Benwick was kind enough to walk out with her. I wish I had sent her home last night. She is of no use to Mrs. Harville;Anne would have been of service.”

“Anne is uncommon,” is all Frederick could get out before Charles took his leave.

When Musgrove returned to Lyme in the early evening, he brought with him the family’s old nursery maid. Mrs. Musgrove thought the woman would speed Louisa’s recovery; the nursery maid had a reputation for coddling her charges, and she had less to do since Harry, the Musgroves’ youngest, had gone off to school.

For the next two days, Frederick spent most of his time sitting quietly in the Harvilles’ parlor. Everyone assured him the intervals of sense and consciousness were stronger; Louisa’s recovery had begun in earnest. He took solace in the news. God had answered his prayers—at least, his prayers for Louisa.

A few days later, Frederick was thankful for the assignment of returning to Uppercross to retrieve some of Louisa’s personal belongings and bring them back to Lyme. It got him out of the parlor; he did not know how much longer he could sit in that room and wait.As a man of action, such indolence drove him mad.

Riding into the circle at Kellynch, he slid easily from the saddle as the groom took the animal to the stables. Sophia was out the door before he could reach the steps. “Oh, Frederick!” she caressed his face.“You look pale.You are not sleeping, and I can tell you are not eating properly. Look how much weight you have lost!” She wrapped her arm through his as they walked to the house. “You must spend the night.”

“I must return to Lyme,” he said automatically.

“You will not,” she insisted.

Frederick looked at her with hollow eyes. “I have no choice, Sophia. I came here first to pick up some more of my own clothes. I am to call at Uppercross and have the Musgrove maid gather some of Miss Musgrove’s trinkets and personal belongings.There is hope such remembrances will speed her recovery.”

“Then the girl is improving?” she asked.The Admiral joined his wife and Frederick in the foyer.

Frederick seemed lost in his thoughts.“Miss Musgrove is awake for longer periods each day. She converses with Milly Harville and the family’s nursery maid.” He headed to the staircase.

“Have you not spoken to her?” Sophia asked as she followed him up the first few steps.

He turned back to her. “Sophia, it would not be proper for me to enter Miss Musgrove’s bed chamber.” A part of Frederick thanked the rules of propriety for such behavior. He had no desire to encourage Louisa’s affections any more than they might already be in place.

“Of course, of course,” she added quickly.“Learning everything secondhand must be maddening.”

“Yes.” Frederick took several steps before casting a glance back over his shoulder at her. “Would you ask the groom for a fresh horse while I take care of a few things in my room?”

“Naturally, Frederick. I shall see to it right away, and I will send a tray up for you.” His sister headed to the servants’ entrance, and Frederick took the remainder of the steps two at a time.

Less than an hour later, he reappeared in the drawing room, a satchel under his arm. “You are off again?” Sophia asked with regret.“When will we see you next?”

“I have no intention of quitting Lyme until this is settled.” Frederick was resigned to his fate. He walked to the window, not really seeing the garden view. Pausing, he debated before asking his next question. “Sophia, have you seen Miss Anne? I assume she returned to Kellynch Lodge with Lady Russell.”

“I have not seen her, but she and Lady Russell sent a note with an intention to call here tomorrow.”

Frederick sighed; he could not turn around and look at his sister. He would give anything just for a glimpse of Anne. “Would you convey my respects to Miss Anne and tell her I hope she is none the worse for what happened at Lyme. She was the stalwart throughout those initial moments.The exertions were great, and I pray she did not suffer unduly.” He would love to leave her word of his constancy—to tell her how much he still admired her, but those words would never be spoken.

“Perhaps you would like to leave Miss Anne a note. I am sure she is eager to receive information on Miss Musgrove’s progress,”
Sophia suggested.

“An excellent idea, Sophia. I will do so before I leave.” Frederick crossed to the desk, took out a piece of foolscap, and scribbled Anne a message. He did not allow himself the liberty of saying anything personal or even to sign the paper. He knew Sophia would convey that information directly to Anne. In an impetuous move, he kissed the corner of the folded page before he sealed it with wax. His kiss would touch her fingertips as she unfolded the paper to read his message. Closing his eyes, he envisioned his lips caressing Anne’s fingertips in a playful seduction. It was all he could do not to groan as the vision played across his mind.

“I believe that is it,” he said before placing the note on a side table.“I am back to Lyme once I retrieve Miss Musgrove’s belongings. I shall send you word every few days to let you know how things progress.”

Sophia walked out with him.“You are in my prayers, Frederick.”

“Thank you, Sophia. Pray for us all, please.” He swung up into the saddle and rode away.

Thomas Harville slid into the chair next to him. Frederick had sat at the table for three hours, shuffling a deck of cards he did not play—staring off into space, lost in his thoughts. “The girl will recover,” Harville assured him.

“What? Yes—yes, I know she will with time. It has not been a fortnight, after all.” Frederick sipped on a cup of cooled tea, now several hours old.

Harville hesitated and then spoke:“Louisa Musgrove will make you a fine wife, Frederick.”

Frederick rolled his eyes heavenward in supplication. “Do I have a choice?” Frederick asked rhetorically.

“Obviously, her family expects a proposal when she recovers; it seems you have paid the young lady with your attentions for several weeks. Mrs. Charles, and even the nursery maid, indicated as much. I understand her mother and father and Miss Henrietta will arrive in Lyme tomorrow.” Thomas leaned back in the chair to
watch carefully his best friend’s reaction.

“I was so foolish, Thomas!” Bitterness laced his words. “I allowed Louisa Musgrove the liberty to think I would choose her, even though my heart has belonged to another for many years. Now, if she recovers, I am obligated to ask for her.” Frederick stared off into the distance once again. “What else can I do? It is the only honorable thing.” In the back of his mind, he heard Anne telling him the same thing—her words from the last time they were together.