Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (9 page)

“Flattery,” she whispered, amusement glinting in her eyes.

“Honesty,” he muttered.
His Anne
had an utterly feminine presence, which soothed him. She also had a surprising strength of will, honed through years of self-denial. Frederick found himself suddenly very tired again. Knowing Anne would watch over him allowed him to relax back against the pillow. For eight years he took responsibility for everything around him; now, he could give up that answerability. She would tend to him without fail, an intoxicating sensation to say the least. He felt Anne pull the blanket up to his shoulders, careful not to disturb him as he drifted back into oblivion. Suddenly, Frederick forced his eyes open again, wanting
to imprint her image on his brain.

She bent to kiss him on the forehead, and her low voice pierced what was left of his consciousness.“Rest and recover. It took us too long, my Love, to find each other again. We promised each other constancy; let us honor our vows.”

Frederick groggily interlaced his fingers with hers. “I have missed you.” His eyelids drifted closed with the words.

“And I you—more than words can express.” She squeezed his hand, and he never felt so totally loved.

“You are mine,” his voice barely audible.

Anne touched his lips with hers.“As you well know.”

 

he read the words out loud from Sophia’s letter,

Frederick took a seat. Sophia’s news dredged up memories and stirred up feelings he had hoped were dead.

Frederick let out the breath he had not realized he was holding. He had already made a commitment to visit his sister, but how could he go to Kellynch Hall? For many years the place haunted his dreams. What excuse could he give? Bonaparte was banished to Elba, and as the war dwindled down, Frederick repeatedly let it be known that, barring any new uprisings, he would take his newly made fortune and return to civilian life. Now, Sophia expected him to come to her. How this news trifled with his feelings! His heart
was still in Somersetshire; his match with Anne Elliot would not have been the most advantageous match imaginable in the eyes of society, but marriage was not impossible for them. Anne had acted dishonorably by breaking off her engagement to him.

How can I return to Somersetshire?
he silently demanded. He searched the letter again, wondering why Sophia did not mention Anne. Could it be that she no longer lived in the area? Had she married at last? It had been eight years, after all. How soon had she married once she broke their engagement? Did Anne have children of her own? Some part of him wished her happy while a more dominate urge wished some form of revenge. A sarcastic laugh escaped his throat. “Is it not revenge that my sister will take possession of Sir Walter’s estate house?
My
family was never good enough; now it is
Anne’s
family that is found wanting.” The thought, although distasteful, consoled him.“Even if Anne Elliot is still in the neighborhood,” he shored up his own resolve, “she will soon learn she is nothing to me. I have long since forgotten her hold on me.”

—Thomas Moore,“Believe Me,
If All Those EndearingYoung Charms”

 

“Frederick, you are here at last!” his sister called as she met him in the entrance hall. He handed his hat and greatcoat to the butler before taking her hands in his and lightly kissing her proffered cheek. Finally seeing her eased the chaos that his stomach had endured from the moment his public carriage entered Somerset. “You look well, my Brother.” She embraced him again. “Come,” she said and took his arm.“Benjamin awaits us in the front parlor.”

Sophia Croft, though neither tall nor fat, had a squareness, uprightness, and vigor of form, which gave importance to her person. She had bright dark eyes, good teeth, and altogether an agreeable face; though her reddened and weather-beaten complexion, the consequence of her having been almost as much at sea as her husband, made her seem to have lived some years longer in the world than her real five and thirty. Her manners were open, easy, and decided, like one who had no distrust of herself, and no doubts of what to do, without any approach to coarseness, however, or any want of good humor.

Frederick fought the urge to look around for remnants of Anne Elliot. From the time he had entered the Park, he felt her presence—could nearly visualize her moving through the gardens—entering the house—walking toward the lake to meet him. He shook his head to chase the images away.“You must be exhausted,” his sister added as she tightened her grip on his arm. Looking over
her shoulder, she turned to the butler, “Mr. Steventon, please have someone bring us fresh tea and refreshments.”

“Right away, Mrs. Croft.”

“Look at you,” Frederick teased, “acting the fine lady of the estate.”

Her eyes twinkled.“Who says I am acting?”

Frederick chuckled.“Being the mistress of the house suits you, Sophia. I am pleased to see you well situated.”

“It is pleasant to finally have roots rather than seaweeds upon which to stand. Of course, you must not tell the Admiral I made such a bold statement.”

He cupped her hand with his.“Your secret is safe with me,” he whispered close to her ear.Then he turned his attention toward his brother in marriage and in service. “Admiral,” he acknowledged the man rising to his feet,“I am so pleased to see you, Sir.”

“No formality here, Frederick.”The elder seaman extended his hand in warm welcome.“We have both left our ships behind. I am no longer your superior officer; here at Kellynch Hall, I am Sophia’s husband and your brother.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Frederick took the seat to which the Admiral gestured.“Although I must admit old habits will be hard to break.” His sister took the seat next to him on the settee while the Admiral sank back into the wing chair. “How are you feeling, Benjamin?” He noticed immediately the man sat with his leg propped on a close-standing ottoman.

“I am having a bit of difficulty getting my land legs,” the older man confessed.“Your sister tends me well, though, and I am sure I will be up and about soon.”

“How do you like Kellynch Hall?” Frederick allowed his eyes to circumnavigate the room. Memories of the last time he had sat in this very room flooded his senses.

“It is a fine estate,” Sophia mused.“Of course, we are still trying to accustom ourselves to all the room. Benjamin and I are used to much smaller quarters. Were you ever here when you visited Edward years ago?”

“Only once.” Frederick’s jaw twitched with the strain of not allowing Sophia to see his reaction. “Edward and I dined with some of the local gentry just a week before I left the country.”

“Was the master of the house his usual pompous self?” Benjamin asked amusedly.

“It was the only evening Sir Walter and I had a private conversation in the time I resided with Edward.” He bit the inside of his mouth to distract himself from the pain of remembering that conversation. “I am afraid Sir Walter did not approve of my bettering my lot in life through the Navy. He was most adamant in his opinions.”

The admiral snorted with disgust.“You have no idea how many mirrors I removed from the walls!”

Frederick chuckled.“The man radiated vanity, as I recall.”

“That is an understatement.”The Admiral shifted his attention to the maid bringing in a fresh tray of tea and cakes. “Thank you, Hilda.We will ring if we need anything else.”

“Yes, Sir.” She curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.

Sophia poured each of them a fresh cup of tea. Frederick took several sips as he built the courage to ask what he knew he must. “Then the family—the Elliots, that is—have all removed themselves to Bath?”

Sophia settled herself next to him again. “Sir Walter and the eldest daughter, Elizabeth, are there—on Camden Place, I believe I heard Mr. Shepherd say. His widowed daughter, Mrs. Clay, is Miss Elliot’s traveling companion.” Frederick waited, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that he thought surely Sophia and the Admiral would hear it. “The youngest daughter married Charles Musgrove and is living at Uppercross. We met them recently. Mrs. Charles is quite insipid, would you not say,Admiral?”

Frederick did not hear his brother’s response. All he could do was force himself to take steady breaths.
So Anne married Charles Musgrove.
Frederick had expected as much. More than once he had replayed scenes of Musgrove dancing with her at the assembly. “Mrs. Musgrove’s children,” the Admiral’s voice penetrated Frederick’s
musings,“are high-spirited enough; she certainly cannot control them.”
Anne had children! Don’t be a fool. What did you expect? Certainly she could not remain celibate if she were married.
Yet, the thought of Anne Elliot loving anyone but him seemed a crack in the natural order of things.

“Did you meet the Musgroves when you were here before?” Sophia asked casually.

“Just briefly—I would not recognize the man, I am sure. I am surprised, however, that Anne Elliot married him. From what I remember, he did not have the same fine mind as Miss Anne.” It took effort to utter Anne’s name.

“Oh, I must apologize, Frederick, when I said the
youngest
daughter married Charles Musgrove,” his sister interrupted. “Mrs. Charles was once Mary Elliot; Miss Anne remains unmarried.” A lightning bolt shot through him.
Anne, too, has never married!
Surely, it had nothing to do with him. It could not. Just as their failed engagement was not the reason for his bachelorhood. If he chose not to marry, then she could make a similar choice. Having never met her, he had forgotten Anne had a younger sister.
Miss Elizabeth Elliot never married. Why should Anne? Sir Walter probably dashed her hopes with every offer. It would be just like the man to refuse his daughters’ suitors so as to keep their affections focused purely on him.
He felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy, centered on Anne’s lost dreams, worm its way into his heart. “I assume you knew Miss Anne?” his sister concluded.

“We were in each other’s company upon several occasions.” He forced himself to control his facial expression.