Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (40 page)

Sir Walter rejoined the conversation,“What do you expect us to do,Anne?”

“We wish to marry before I leave for Plymouth,” Frederick explained. “It is definite; I must return to service before the third time the banns are called. If we are to marry, we will need a special license. We considered a common license, but even that may take too long.”

“That may be a problem,” Sir Walter observed. “The bishop is particular about to whom he issues such privileges. Plus, a baronet is not a peer of the realm; the title is purely hereditary.”

“We know that, Father. That is why we are here to beg for your assistance.”

Sir Walter stammered,“
My—My
help?You expect
my
help with this? I am afraid, Anne, that your request is impossible. I will not
allow the public to think you
must
marry. Besides, this match is still with a man of no connections.The Captain has risen admirably in society, but if you were the first daughter, rather than the second, I would not consider the match acceptable.”

“Then why, pray tell, did Elizabeth flirt so blatantly with Frederick prior to our announcement? Would you have accepted him then? Would all his money have been enough for acceptance in this family?” she challenged.

Sir Walter held his ground.“At the time, we thought you were to marry your cousin. None of us expected such a turn of events. If you married Mr. Elliot, the title would stay in the family, and Elizabeth would have a husband with money. It was an acceptable solution.”

“Anne.” Frederick’s resonant voice broke into the confrontation. “I should take my leave. It is as we suspected—a moot point—we will receive no help here. I will see what else the Admiral learned and call for you later.We are to dine with the Musgroves this evening.”

“I will go with you now.” She stood and hooked her arm through his.

Sir Walter stood.“It would be best,Anne, if you did as the Captain suggested.”

“That is the difference, Father; Frederick makes
suggestions
; he does not demand
obedience
.There are a few things you should consider over the next few hours. First, I will marry Frederick, or I will not marry. I have already turned down Charles Musgrove and Mr. Elliot—that is money
and
a title. If I do not marry, you will have two spinster daughters. What will that say about Sir Walter Elliot? You never considered Mary’s match appropriate. You, Sir Walter Elliot, will have three daughters—none with a match you would want to recognize.” Frederick saw Sir Walter clutch the edge of his desk in anger. “What will you write of the Elliot family in the Baronetage, Father?”

Lady Russell warned,“Anne, that is enough!”

“No, it is not enough!” She left Frederick’s side, and he suddenly felt naked. He would never have suspected Anne had so
much mettle. It was as if she had saved up all her frustrations and now finally gave full vent to them. She leaned across her father’s desk. “Either you help us get a special license and weather the gossip of how we anticipated our marriage
or
,” and at this she paused and waited for her father’s full attention,“we
will
anticipate our marriage. How will you explain a grandchild that is less than nine months in the womb, Father? Or perhaps I will simply leave with Frederick without the sacrament of union.”

“Anne!” Lady Russell exclaimed. “You cannot mean what you say! See what an evil influence this man has over you!”

Frederick started to object, but this was Anne’s show—her step to freedom, and he savored every moment. She would make him a splendid wife; how he ever thought otherwise amazed him, so he swallowed his words.
His Anne
—flexible, accommodating Anne—had a backbone of steel.

“That is where you are in error, Lady Russell.” She turned to face Frederick. “This man is honorable; he has said he will not ruin my reputation, but I will do my best to change his mind because I will have him above all others. Even if he keeps his honor, I will swear I lost mine, and you, Father, will have no choice but to protect me and help us purchase a special license to salvage what is left of my reputation.We will return early for your decision.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the door. “Are you coming, Frederick?”

He smiled. “Yes, my Love.” Frederick offered her father and Lady Russell a proper bow and strode from the room. He caught up with her in the foyer just as she accepted her cloak from the waiting servant. “You were
magnificent
,” he whispered to her as he put on his greatcoat.

“Perhaps.”Anne’s trembling voice caught Frederick by surprise. “But if you could see how my legs wish to buckle, you would offer me the support of your arm immediately.” She began to slump, and Frederick pulled her to him. He laughed and then twirled her around under his arm before stepping into an impromptu waltz. “What are you doing?” she gleefully gasped.

“I am celebrating our upcoming marriage.” He said as he maneuvered her around a table and back into the main entranceway.

“Then you believe it will happen?”

Frederick slowed their steps where they just swayed together. “My Dear, you left your father no choice.” He pulled her to him. “And me no choice.”

“Frederick, do you mean?” she murmured.

“Anne, I will have you as my wife and as my lover.” Even though several footmen lurked in the shadows, he kissed her briefly. “Now, you are thoroughly compromised, my Love. Before we return to Gay Street, half of Bath will hear of how I held you too close, waltzed you around the floor, and kissed you shamelessly before your household staff.You will have to marry me.”

She laced her arms around his neck.“May I be just as shameless?”

“We are a perfect pair.” With that, she returned his earlier kiss and then walked purposely out the door. He smiled with the knowledge he unleashed a passion no one knew was there.

—Maya Angelou,“Where We Belong:A Duet”

 

It was not Bath Abbey; however, Frederick paced the front of the church, waiting, as patiently as possible, for Anne’s appearance. Dressed in his full military regalia, he cut a fine figure.The morning had crept by slowly, but in a few minutes,Anne would be his.

After Anne had delivered an ultimatum to her father, things changed quickly. Lady Russell overcame her initial shock and then the woman began her own campaign on Anne’s behalf, enlisting the help of Lady Dalrymple, a powerful member of high society. With Lady Dalrymple’s stated approval, Sir Walter’s determination to ignore Anne’s demand melted. And for a tidy sum, the needed license was procured.

Anne found it all humorous and found the feeling of being powerful—for a change—quite an intoxicating one. But Frederick felt like a puppet—strings tangled in a knotted mess. Neither he nor Anne intended to follow through on her threats, a few intimate kisses were the most they shared. Frederick respected her too much to possess Anne without the bonds of marriage; his orders would force them to wait—and wait they would.

It was a week of “what ifs” for both of them.What if the church could not be secured? What if Edward and Christine did not arrive in time? What if the Musgrove party at Uppercross did not arrive in time? What if Anne’s dress was not finished in time? Somehow, with Sophia’s tenacity and the Admiral’s charm, even the surly
manager at the White Hart was able to accommodate them, and they booked the wedding breakfast in the hotel’s large dining room after finding out the Pump Room Assembly Hall would not be available.This wedding would happen.

The stain-glassed windows fractured the early spring sun streaming through the color prisms, every face highlighted with flecks of the rainbow. Somehow they were all there—family and friends. Besides Benwick and the Harvilles, the Admiral managed to locate many of the officers with whom Frederick had served over the years. Those seasoned sailors filled the pews of the church—most of them amazed to see their captain, a man of decision and of action, obviously anxious.

“Relax,Wentworth,”Thomas Harville leaned in to whisper his admonition.“Miss Anne will be here.”

“Probably her father,” Frederick grumbled.“Heaven forbid that my future wife should outshine Sir Walter on her wedding day.”

Thomas chuckled before observing,“He is quite a dandy.”

A stir at the rear of the church brought their attention immediately to the small group gathered there. A bevy of females started making their way down the aisle, many of them already dabbing away tears. Among them were Mary Musgrove, Lady Russell, and Mrs. Musgrove. Elizabeth Elliot, looking surprisingly young in a dark green gown, entered with Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret. He noted how several of his fellow officers openly admired Miss Elliot’s beauty.

A sharp breath escaped his chest when Frederick finally saw her—
his Anne
—coming toward him on Sir Walter’s arm. Surprisingly, her father had toned down his appearance for the occasion, choosing a more traditional look, except for his lace-trimmed cravat and sleeves. Then Sir Walter turned, and there was Anne, beautiful in white with rubies at her neck and dangling from her ears. She carried deep red roses and white lilies, streaming with ribbons. His eyes rested on Anne’s countenance. A short veil blocked his view of her returning gaze, but Frederick could see the full smile creating dimples in her rosy cheeks. Suddenly, he felt calm, as
if he had prepared for this day all his life.

When she reached him, Frederick vaguely heard Sir Walter announce that he would give Anne’s hand in marriage, and then, even though it was gloved, he felt the warmth of her hand as it slid into his.Anne gifted him with a dazzling smile, and the hectic pace of the past four days melted into insignificance.

Behind him, he heard Milly shush one of the Musgrove children, probably Little Walter, as Edward delivered the opening lines of the service: “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God to join this man and this woman in the bonds of Holy matrimony.”

When it came time for him to pledge his love and devotion to Anne, Frederick had to clear his throat before finding his voice to repeat his vows. Then he slid the ring, a symbol of their never-ending love, upon her finger.

Before he knew what had happened, Edward, who had stood silently as the local vicar read the ceremony, delivered the final line: “With Mr. Osgood’s blessing, as well as mine, I pronounce that Frederick James Wentworth and Anne Gabriella Elliot be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.Amen.”

Frederick turned her to him so he might lift the veil, rolling it back to drape over the brim of her bonnet.
If I had a choice, Anne would be in my arms right now.
But it was not his choice, so instead he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her up the aisle and into the vestibule, where the registry lay waiting for their signatures.

“Are you happy?” he whispered near her ear as Anne wrote her name with a flourish.

Wide, bright eyes met his.“Absolutely—intensely happy.”

“Then are you ready, Mrs.Wentworth?”

The words brought tears to Anne’s eyes. “I thought I would never hear those words,” she gasped.“I am Anne Elliot Wentworth now!” She laughed nervously.

He gently pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them. “You most certainly are Anne Gabriella Elliot Wentworth—forever—
that will be your name, my Love.”

“Then let us meet our well-wishers, my Husband.” She laughed again, watching him fill in his signature next to hers.“Husband,” she repeated.“I believe that is the most beloved word in the world.”

“Next to the word
wife
,” he teased, before leading her outside to a cheering crowd, which was waiting in the churchyard to pelt them with rose petals.

“Run for it,” she cheerfully ordered him as she turned her head to avoid a mouthful of petals, thrown with accuracy by Harry Musgrove, the youngest of Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove’s brood.

Frederick wrapped his arm around her and began to hustle Anne toward their waiting coach. She lifted the skirt of her dress; trying to match his long strides, as they made their way to the bow-decorated carriage. He lifted her easily into the waiting landaulette.

“From where did this come?” she asked, noticing the lushness of the finely upholstered seats.

“It is yours,” he said, climbing up beside her.“It is your wedding present, my Love.”

“Frederick—you did not!” she exclaimed as she lightly ran her fingertips across the thickly padded cushions.

“My
wife
,” he emphasized the word, “will have the best I can afford.”

She wrapped her arms through his, clutching tightly to him.“It is not necessary.” Her eyes rested on his face.

“You,Anne, are my beloved; you touched my heart in a way no one else can. Love is
necessary
—your love is necessary for my survival.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, much to the delight of the gathering throng. “Let us make it through the wedding breakfast. I plan to spend the night showing you how much I love you and how very essential you are to me.” As he expected, his words made Anne blush, but Frederick also saw something else in Anne’s eyes: a desire to know him as intimately as he wished to know her. “Do I embarrass you, my Love?” he asked as he picked up the reins.

Anne flushed again with color, but her voice held a calmness he
had not expected. “In my heart I waited for this night; I am afraid of the unknown, but I welcome it just the same.” She raised her hand to his cheek, and he turned his lips to kiss her palm. “I love you, Frederick James Wentworth.”

“I am not sure I can wait until this breakfast is over,” he said seductively.

Anne looked up at his laughing eyes. “Just a few more hours.” She rested her hand on his. “Let us go before we become even more distracted.” With that, he flicked the reins, lunging forward into their future.