Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (6 page)

She slid her arms around his waist, hearing his heart beat as she rested her head on his muscular chest.“I love you,” she murmured. “Please remember that I love you.” She buried her face in the folds of his jacket, trying to stop the tears.

“Will you tell me?” he said at last.

She shook her head.“I cannot.”

“Lady Russell was unable to convince Sir Walter? Did your friend object to our union also? It is of no consequence. We will continue without their support.”

“I cannot,” she said again, but this time he knew that the words spelled doom.

“You cannot what,Anne?” he demanded.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she lifted her face to meet his gaze.“I cannot…I cannot marry you, Frederick.” One lone tear trickled down her face.

“No!” He pulled her more tightly against him, silently vowing to never let her go.“I will not allow you to change your mind.”

She craned her neck to look up at him. “Do you not see?” she pleaded.

“See what?” he asked, his voice cold, setting her forcibly from him. “I see a woman who breaks my heart with her words. I see a woman who promised to remain constant in her affections for me, but who turns away to the comfort of her four-poster bed as soon as she meets resistance. Is that not what I see, Miss Anne?” He took a step back from her.

His return to a formal address struck her forcibly, knocking the air from her.Anne fell to her knees.“Please, Frederick,” she begged. “I love you; do you not see how much I love you? I have discussed it with Lady Russell, and she agrees. If I went with you, I would only hold you back.”

He wanted to drop to his knees, too, and plead with her—to convince Anne that she did not know him if she thought he needed protection. Instead, he turned his back on the woman he loved.“Do not lie to me,Anne; do not invent reasons for not keeping your promise; you simply do not care for me enough to give up your fine society.”The words sounded bitter; he could not disguise the fact that he felt betrayed. “Is there someone else?” he accused. “Has your father allowed you to accept Charles Musgrove?
He
can offer you the security I cannot!”

“Surely you know that is not true.” She looked up into his eyes. Something she did not recognize flickered there.

His jaw tightened in annoyance.Taking a deep breath, he allowed his gaze to rest on her.“Anne, I will ask you once again to come with me—this day—this hour.We will travel to Gretna Green; we will marry, and I will love you with every ounce of my being.”

He paused, waiting for her answer, but she hung her head and rocked herself for comfort.“I love you, Frederick,” she sobbed.“Go with God.” The words seemed to suffocate her, and she collapsed on the bank of the lake.

She could see the toes of his black Hessians as he stepped up beside her. “You do not know love,” he said softly. He bent to lay the rose beside her head.Then he left her there, taking the devastation with him.

Leaving Anne behind nearly broke Frederick. Part of him wanted to take Anne into his arms and kiss her until she changed her mind. Part of him wanted to forcibly take her with him. He could hardly breathe. Reaching the summit of the last incline before the town road, he shouted curses at the open sky.

God gave him life when He had given him Anne, and now she had been ripped from him. Five weeks of happiness was not enough; he wanted more of Anne Elliot.A cry escaped his throat as he sank down in despair. How could she have turned on him so quickly? How could Anne have allowed her foolish, vain father and her misguided friend Lady Russell to persuade her to give him up? Belatedly, he saw how Anne’s putting her trust in Lady Russell misfired. The woman did not approve of Charles Musgrove’s plight.Why would she consider Frederick’s a more honorable one? It was over! Anne was gone! Nothing—nothing could ever convince him to love anyone but her.Another cry of anguish filled the air before he began to recapture his composure, but anger and frustration still reigned.

Frederick sat for hours on the hillside, looking out over the land—but he saw none of it. His mind replayed the moments he had spent with Anne. Images of her, from her entrance into the village shop to the crumpled form he left lying on the bank of the lake, filled his brain. Her words—her gestures—the dream he held
of their life together—everything he had ever wanted—he could not have asked for more.
Except—he wanted more—he wanted their time together to never end.

As if in a trance, he made his way back to his brother’s home.“I was beginning to worry!” Edward called from the kitchen.“How is Miss Anne today?”

“Miss Anne returned to Kellynch Hall.” That was all he could say.Anne returned to her home. She would never be his bride—his wife; she did not love him enough. “I have correspondence to which I need to attend. Please excuse me, Edward,” he said stiffly as he walked past his brother to the guest room.

“Certainly,” Edward spoke with concern. “I will be here if you need anything.”

Frederick did not answer; he could think of nothing but the image of Anne Elliot weeping beside the lake—a place that once held pleasant memories of a growing courtship. He lay down heavily on the bed in the small room and stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.

The room was in deep shadows when he heard his brother’s voice and his light tap on the door. “Frederick, may I get you something to eat?”

“Nothing, Edward, thank you; I just need some time,” he croaked. Frederick could not consider talking to anyone about Anne Elliot.The light in his life had disappeared.

“I will leave some fresh bread on the table.”

Frederick did not answer; he was once more lost to his pain.

For three days he left the room only to attend to his bodily functions. He did not eat, and if he slept, Frederick could not remember doing so. All he knew was the desolation he felt every time he replayed her words in his head. His chest ached. Edward’s appraisal of the aristocracy had been correct; even a successful naval officer would never be good enough for a daughter of the realm. He could die for England, but he could not marry into one of its honored families.

The emptiness inside ate at him. He would show them all.
Frederick Wentworth would become wealthy—he would win the praise of the King. He would make them all—Anne and her family—regret the day she turned from him. By that time, Anne would no longer mean anything to him. He would forget her as quickly as she forgot him.

And yet—and yet—Frederick knew she was his other half; he would always want her.

Finally, he appeared at the morning table. His brother noted the dark circles under Frederick’s eyes and the sharp, angular cut of his cheekbones, but Edward chose not to comment on his obvious weight loss. “Good morning,” he greeted as Frederick reached for a plate.

Frederick did not answer, but he did nod in his brother’s direction. Filling his plate with fresh fruit and toast, he joined Edward at the oak table.They ate together in silence for several minutes. Noting the packed bag sitting near the doorway, Edward said carefully, “So you are to leave me today?”

“It is for the best.” Frederick did not raise his head when he spoke. Instead, he seemed mesmerized by the action of spreading apple preserves on another piece of toast.

Edward hid his concern. “You have more than three weeks of leave remaining.”

Frederick decidedly placed the knife beside his plate.“I will stay with Harville; he and I can return to our ship together. Forgive me, Edward, but I need the silence of a noisy household right now.”

“Of course, Frederick—I understand.” Edward leaned back in his chair and looked at his brother’s demeanor. “I assume you would have the vicar delay the reading of the banns.”

Frederick finally looked at his older brother. He forced steadiness into his words. “If you could attend to that duty for me, Edward, I would be most appreciative.”

“I will see to it.” Edward returned to his food.After an elongated silence, he ventured,“Will you take your leave of Miss Anne?”

“Miss Anne took her leave of me several days ago; I see no
reason to revisit what must be.” Frederick’s steely countenance told the story.

“I see.” Edward sighed.“I will walk with you to the posting inn when you are ready to leave.”

“Thank you, Edward, for your hospitality.You are more than a brother, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

“Family is our greatest wealth.” Edward knew Frederick suffered. “Men in our family wait to marry until we secure our futures. Then we marry for love.” Edward shot a kindly look at his younger brother.“Possibly you need to question whether you were ready. Look at me; I am three years your senior, and I have yet to complete either of those tasks.”

“Possibly,” Frederick muttered. He laid his napkin on the table. “Sometimes I wonder whether the woman I thought Anne Elliot to be ever existed.”

“You looked for perfection in Miss Anne,” his brother reasoned. “But perfection is not to be achieved in this life. And consider, Frederick—you are willful. Can you really envision being able to tolerate Sir Walter’s inane views of society? Those of the Elliots’ world would never understand the overwhelming responsibilities you assume each day in your position.”

“I know in my mind what you say is correct, Edward. However, it will take my heart some time to reconcile itself to those truths. My heart, unfortunately, knew only her.”

Later that day, Frederick waited to board the carriage that would take him to Portsmouth and the Harvilles; Edward stood with him in silence. Frederick embraced his brother before stepping up into the carriage.“I should tell you,” Edward shared with a smile, “I applied for positions in Herefordshire and Shropshire some months ago.When we next meet, it will not be here.”

“I do not believe I would ever wish to return here.” Frederick leaned out the coach window to shake his brother’s hand. “I have seen all of Somerset I care to see. It will be my pleasure to visit you in your new home. It is time for you to complete the tasks; build
your future, and marry for love. It would please me to see both you and Sophia well settled.”

“I would wish the same for you.”

Frederick looked at the surrounding buildings.“It looks to be a pleasant enough village.”

“
Some
find it so,” Edward remarked as the coach began to roll forward.

Frederick smiled and waved. “Then
they
may have it!” he shouted as the carriage pulled out of the inn yard and onto the main road.

“His fever is worse,” the doctor cautioned as he placed another cooling cloth on Wentworth’s forehead.“We have to find a way to break it soon. If not, he could die of his wounds.”

“Tell me what else to do for him.” Anne’s voice betrayed her exhaustion. She had been by Frederick’s side for more than six and thirty hours.

“You will make
yourself
a patient, Ma’am, if you do not get rest,” he cautioned her.

“I will not leave him.” She spoke with resolve. “What can I do for my husband?”

“Very well, Mrs. Wentworth,” the man said. “We could try a bath of cold water. Submerging the captain would be risky, but I believe it would be worth trying.”

“Then let us do it.”Anne moved to take over the cold cloths for Frederick’s care.

“I will have the men bring in the tub; we can haul in some of the seawater. It will be cooler than anything we have on board. I want to make sure his bandages do not become too wet.We cannot let the seawater get into the wounds.”The doctor motioned for a midshipman as he opened the door to the captain’s quarters. After relaying his orders, he returned to Frederick’s bedside.“I shall have several men help me strip the captain and support him in the water as we lower his body into the coolness.You, Ma’am, should use the
opportunity to freshen your own clothing and get something substantial to eat. It would embarrass the men to handle your husband as such with you in the room.”

“I understand,” Anne whispered. “I will tend him until you are ready.” She smoothed the hair away from Frederick’s forehead.