Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (37 page)

“Miss Anne,” he said courteously as he raised her offered hand to his lips.Their eyes spoke of the desire—created by the touch of a hand and a pronouncing of a name.

“Captain Wentworth,” she said in a low voice, “we are pleased you could join us for the evening. May I show you to one of the tables or perhaps offer you some refreshment?”

Frederick looked around the room; he would be unable to concentrate on a card hand this evening.“A drink would be nice, Miss Anne,” he said loudly enough for others to hear.

“This way, Captain.”Anne motioned to a table with port, wine, lemonade, and champagne. Frederick followed her there; it was the closest he would come to being alone with her for the next few hours. “Champagne, Captain?” she said as she handed him a glass and took one for herself.“To us,”Anne mouthed the words.

Frederick turned his back to the room, blocking her view and preventing the others from observing their exchange. “You are exquisite, Sweetling,” his voice barely audible. “Such beauty easily unmans me.”

“Frederick,” she laughed softly, before taking a sip of the bubbly mixture.“You are such a flirt.”

“It is not flirting, my Dear, if I speak the truth.” He took a sip from his glass and leaned in as close as he dared without raising suspicion. “Are you as happy as I?”

Anne smiled up at him.“Ecstatic.”

“Excellent, Miss Anne,” he said. “A very fine champagne.” Again, he spoke for the room and not for her ears alone. He offered her a crisp bow and moved away to where Thomas and Charles Musgrove held a discussion over glasses of port. Musgrove spoke of the gun he had rushed off to see that day, but a preoccupied Frederick heard only bits and pieces of the conversation.

The planned evening—a card party—was a mixture of those who met before and those who met too often—a common place
business, too numerous for intimacy and too small for variety. Frederick’s gaze followed Anne as she made her way around the room. Glowing and lovely in sensibility and happiness, she had cheerful or forbearing feelings for every creature around her. Judiciously, she avoided Mr. Elliot, sparing Frederick any possible pain. She displayed restrained amusement with Mr. Elliot’s friends, the Wallises, and with her cousins Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret.Anne also avoided Mrs. Clay, who she long suspected used her sister Elizabeth to move up in the world and who proved of late she might be part of Mr. Elliot’s diversions. After all, with her own eyes, she had seen them on the street together outside the Musgroves’ hotel.

With the Musgroves, there was the happy chat of perfect ease; with Captain Harville, the kind-hearted intercourse of brother and sister; with Lady Russell, attempts at conversation, and with the Admiral and Sophia, everything of peculiar cordiality and fervent interest.

She was making her way toward him, and he pretended not to anticipate her approach. Frederick turned slightly away, but not before hearing Miss Elliot reprimand her, “Do not monopolize Captain Wentworth, as you always do. Others would like his company, too.”

“I believe the Captain is capable of choosing his own company, Elizabeth. I will not avoid him because it is your wish that I do so.” Anne gave her sister a curt nod and moved on.

He moved to the far side of the room and pretended to admire a fine display of greenhouse plants. Sensing her approach, Frederick turned to meet her.“I wondered when you would make your way back to me,” he whispered.

“I felt your eyes on me, Sir. Did you not
will
me to return?” Frederick chuckled at her boldness. “I did indeed. You are a vixen in disguise as a demur lady. How could I not take note of such before?”

“It is odd.” Anne shook her head as if to clear it. “With my family—with everyone—I take the role as the quiet, unassuming sister, but when I am with you, my tongue says things I never realized
were part of my thoughts.”

“It is because, my Love, I see you differently from the others. With me, you are the other half of my heart. There is little you could say that would offend me. In reality, I rejoice in seeing you allow me such insights.”

He watched as she bit her lower lip; then she looked back to the gathering before speaking, assuming a serious tone. “I was thinking—thinking over the past and trying impartially to judge of the right and wrong, I mean with regard to myself; and I must believe I was right, much as I suffered from it; I was perfectly right in being guided by the friend whom you will love better than you do now. To me, she was in the place of a parent. Do not mistake me, however. I am not saying she did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event decides; and for myself, I certainly never should, in any circumstance of tolerable similarity, give such advice. But I mean, I was right in submitting to her, and if I did otherwise, I should suffer more in continuing the engagement than I did in giving it up, because I should suffer in my conscience. I have now, as far as such a sentiment is allowable in human nature, with which nothing to reproach myself; and if I mistake not, a strong sense of duty is no bad part of a woman’s portion.”

Frederick looked at her, looked at Lady Russell, and looking again at Anne, replied, as if in cool deliberation,“Not yet. But there are hopes of her being forgiven in time. I trust to being in charity with her soon, but I, too, was thinking over the past, and a question has suggested itself, whether there may not have been one person more my enemy even than that lady? My own self.Tell me if, when I returned to England in the year ’08, with a few thousand pounds, and was posted into the
Laconia
, if I then wrote to you, would you have answered my letter? Would you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?”

“Would I?” was all her answer, but the accent was decisive enough.

“Good God!” he cried, “you would! It is not that I did not
think of it or desire it, as what could alone crown all my other success. But I was proud, too proud to ask again. I did not understand you. I shut my eyes and would not understand you, or do you justice. This is a recollection which ought to me forgive everyone sooner than myself. Six years of separation and suffering might have been spared. It is a sort of pain, too, which is new to me. I was used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing I enjoyed. I valued myself on honorable toils and just rewards. Like other great men under reverses,” he added with a smile, “I must endeavor to subdue my mind to fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve.”

“We will speak no more of this,”Anne declared.“We—you and I—knew sadness in our separation, but we will let no such impediment keep us apart ever again.”

“For you, my Dear, I will temper my dislike for the lady.” He glanced around the room again. “Anne,” he spoke softly for only her ears, “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you by my side and the rest of my nights with you in my arms.After tonight, you may be sorely plagued by my presence, but I will not hear of our parting ever again.”

“That would please me, Frederick.”

Their conversation ended, as Elizabeth insisted that he join the group to whom she would show the house. The group included Mrs. Musgrove, Henrietta, Captain Harville, the Admiral, and Sophia. Bowing to Anne, he reluctantly followed the others to the hallway.

When Sir Walter briefly stepped from the drawing room to offer his own anecdotes, Frederick took the opportunity to approach the man. “Sir Walter,” he said, “may I speak to you for a moment, Sir?”

Sir Walter looked a bit annoyed at losing his audience to his daughter, but he accepted the interference with as much graciousness as he was known to extend to anyone.“Certainly, Captain.” He gestured toward an open door. “Perhaps the library will do.” Frederick followed the man into a dimly lit room. The number of
books on the shelves surprised Frederick. Other than Anne, he felt confident that none of the Elliots regularly opened a book for pleasure. However, the two huge mirrors hanging on opposing walls did not surprise him.“Well, Captain,” Sir Walter’s voice brought him to the moment at hand,“what may I do for you?”

Frederick cleared his throat nervously. “Today, I renewed my proposal to your daughter Anne, and she accepted my offer.”

Sir Walter looked shocked. “But-But there is Mr. Elliot,” he stammered.

“I understand your surprise, Sir, but I assure you Miss Anne does not take Mr. Elliot’s attentions seriously. We will marry; Anne is of age, and we no longer need your permission or your blessing, although I pray for the sake of family accord, you will not withhold either.As I told you eight years ago, the Navy allows a man to make his fortune in the world. I have accumulated nearly thirty thousand pounds to date. I plan to purchase an estate, so Anne may be the mistress of her own home. She will want for nothing as long as I live.”

“Captain, your continued devotion to my daughter amazes me, especially considering the fact Mr. Elliot is in the picture.” Frederick flinched with the words. “If Anne chooses to attach herself to you, then I have no objections. Even the Prince Regent prizes the accomplishments of men such as you. It would be well for my family to align itself with a man of service to our country.Anne will receive her share of ten thousand pounds upon my death.”

Frederick nodded.
The more things change, the more they remain the same.
Sir Walter valued Anne only as a means for her father to advance his own place in society. Frederick was now esteemed quite worthy to address the daughter of a foolish, spendthrift baronet, who had not principle or sense enough to maintain himself in the situation in which Providence had placed him. Sir Walter, indeed, though he held no affection for Anne to make him really happy on the occasion, was very far from thinking it a bad match for her.“We would like to announce our engagement this evening, Sir, as we have both family and friends in attendance. Would you do the honors, Sir Walter?”

“I hear the others returning, Captain. Why do we not join them? We may address this before people begin to retire for the evening.” The baronet ushered Frederick toward the door. “Do you know, Captain, my cousin Lady Dalrymple found you to be a very fine young man.”

“Really?” Frederick feigned surprise. “Then I hope Her Ladyship will approve of our connection.”

“I am positive that she will.” Sir Walter instinctively stepped in front of Frederick, checking his appearance in the nearest mirror.

When they reentered the drawing room, Anne, who stood beside Sophia, looked up in anticipation. He smiled at her as he strode across the room and took her hand in his. He heard Sophia gasp in delight as Sir Walter cleared his throat loudly enough to draw attention to himself as he stood by the open door. “My friends and family,” he began in his most pretentious tone, “it is with pleasure that I announce that our modest card party has become a momentous occasion. My daughter Anne has this day accepted the proposal of Captain Wentworth, and they wish you to share in their happiness.”

The room was silent for a heartbeat, and then Frederick and Anne were surrounded by well-wishers. Sophia, with tears of happiness streaming down her face, hugged Anne tightly to her.

Harville, who had moved behind Frederick during Sir Walter’s speech, was the first to reach him. He gave his friend a hug and pounded him on the back. “You did it!” he congratulated him. “I knew
nothing
could stop you once you put your mind to it. At last, you will be happy; you will have the one thing you missed.”

“The one thing I always needed,” Frederick assured him before the others interrupted.

“Miss Anne!” Mrs. Musgrove caught her at Sophia’s release. “How you kept us all in dark! None of us suspected that you and Captain Wentworth had developed an affection for each other these past few months.”

Frederick wanted to set the record straight; he would not let it appear Anne had accepted Louisa Musgrove’s castoffs. “Mrs. Musgrove,
I am sure you are not aware that I lived in Somerset for a short time with my brother years ago. I fell in love with Miss Anne at that time, but she was too young. Although I tried to forget her, when I returned to the area, I found she still owned my heart.”

“How romantic,” Henrietta emphasized; her eyes were misty. Thankfully, no one reminded him that for a while it appeared that his sights were set on Louisa.

Lady Russell made her way to them, and with his hand resting lightly on her back, ready to offer her protection, he felt Anne stiffen.“My dear Anne,” the older friend took both of Anne’s hands in hers,“let me wish you happy.”

“Thank you,” Anne murmured.Then she added,“Will you not acknowledge my future husband?” Her remarks, demanding recognition for him, surprised Frederick.

Lady Russell’s jaw twitched with something he suspected to be disdain; she hesitated, but then she graciously turned to him.“Captain, you won a jewel; cherish her and protect her as such.”

Frederick offered her a polite bow.“I will do nothing less, Lady Russell.” With that, she stepped to the side to allow others their moment with them.

He noted, out of the corner of his eye, that Mr. Elliot and Mrs. Clay conversed intimately on the far side of the room, nearly unseen behind a large palm. Anne, he was sure, did not observe how, shortly afterward, Mr. Elliot took his leave. Neither he nor Mrs. Clay offered them words of congratulations.

For Frederick, the rest of the evening was perfection. He walked about the room with Anne on his arm, sat with her on a secluded settee for nearly an hour, and openly declared his affection for her. At one point, Anne motioned to Sophia to join them. “Mrs. Croft,”Anne began,“I have a boon to ask of you.”

“Of course, Miss Anne, how might I serve you?” Sophia shot a look of approval at Frederick.

Anne slipped her hand into Frederick’s before speaking. “Your brother and I wish to marry as soon as the banns can be called. Although I am sure Mary and the Musgroves will wish to assist me,
their party will return to Uppercross soon. Would you, I wonder, go with me to a modiste to secure my bride clothes? I would not know to whom to turn in Bath.”