Captain Wentworth's Persuasion

by Regina Jeffers

  “How is Harville?” Edward asked as he put his empty cup away.

  Frederick chuckled. “He is in love once again. He swears this time he will marry the woman, but I have heard such protestations before. Like me, he returned home to visit his friends and family. His sister Fanny is coming of age soon, and Harville wants to assure himself that she will make no choices without his permission.”

  “I would hate to be in his shoes.” Edward began to pick up Frederick’s belongings to take them to his room. “With a mother and sisters and aunts for whom he is responsible, Harville will always be caring for some woman or another.”

  “Luckily, the man has a generous nature.” Frederick rose to follow his brother.“If I ever needed someone on my side, Harville would be my first choice of all my shipmates.”

  The next evening found the Wentworth brothers at a neighborhood assembly. Edward Wentworth had earned the respect of the local gentry, and they welcomed his brother.Wearing his dress uniform, Frederick cut a fine figure, and more than one mother began to concoct ways to draw his address to her eligible daughter. He relished the attention; having been at sea for so long, Frederick craved the notice of English society, and now he imagined his place within the social structure of the country he called home.

  He stood with Edward and several other men when he felt her enter the room. Even without turning around, Frederick knew that she was there. He knew it in his heart—he knew it in the shiver that ran down his spine.Turning slowly, he half expected to see “his Anne” standing in the doorway. Instead, he found a man of aristocratic rank posing in the entrance and waiting to be announced. Ostentatiously attired, a young woman—the same lady Frederick had noted in the village shop—stood by his side, her hand resting lightly on his proffered arm.

  A voice rang out: “Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch Hall. Miss Elizabeth Elliot. Lady Russell. Miss Anne Elliot.” A path cleared as the members of the Elliot party walked the length of the assembly hall and took their places on the raised dais at the far end of the room. His body was correct; she was there. Miss Anne Elliot followed at the rear of her family, a tiny smile curving her lips. She fascinated him; as a woman of rank, Frederick knew she could easily marry a man of considerable wealth. But Miss Anne Elliot, unlike the rest of her family, did not possess vanity. What she had was a remarkable poise, a possession of the self.

  “Steady, Frederick,” Edward whispered in his ear. “Miss Elizabeth Elliot is not for you. She is to marry the heir apparent; at least, that is the accepted rumor.”

  Frederick’s eyes never left Anne Elliot. “I am not looking at Miss Elliot.”

  Edward followed his brother’s gaze. “Miss Anne?” he inquired. “She is the more amiable one.”

  “Let us get something to drink,” Frederick added quickly, realizing his attention had become noticeable to those around him. Retrieving lemonades, the brothers moved off to speak privately. “Tell me what you know of the Elliots,” Frederick commanded his brother.

  “Sir Walter is a proud—no, conceited—aristocrat. Vanity is the beginning and end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character: vanity of person and of situation. Reportedly, he was remarkably handsome as a youth; few women could think more of their appearance than he does of his own. He considers the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy.”

  “Where is Lady Elliot?” Frederick asked as he forced his eyes from Anne Elliot once more.

  “She passed before I arrived in the area,” Edward said. “Some six or seven years ago,” he added. “I know little about her except what I have heard. She was a woman of very superior character from all reports—an excellent woman, sensible and amiable, whose judgment and conduct, if they might be pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, never required indulgence afterward.” Frederick chuckled at his brother’s attempt at sarcasm. “She humored, or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world herself, she found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she was called on to quit them.” Edward’s eyes misted with the thought of how God often takes the best to heaven early. “Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a conceited silly father.”

  Frederick could not resist asking the obvious question: “Why has Sir Walter never remarried?”

  “Other than himself, Sir Walter is not likely to believe anyone worthy of his attention. Some thought he might choose Lady Russell; she was Lady Elliot’s intimate friend, but they did not marry, whatever might have been anticipated on that head by their acquaintance. But he did bring her to live close by in the village of Kellynch, where she serves as a confidante for the daughters. It is said she holds great sway over their lives, especially over Miss Anne.”

  The music began again, and Frederick watched as Anne Elliot took the dance floor with a member of the local gentry.The man’s slightly disheveled appearance and clumsy movements did little to win Anne’s admiration. She looked politely at him and offered him a gentle smile, but Frederick could easily see that her eyes did not darken with pleasure, as they had with him. “Who is the gentleman?” He nodded toward the couple as Anne circled the man across from her.

  “Charles Musgrove,” Edward replied. “The Musgroves are the second most important family in the area. He is the eldest son and will inherit a substantial property.The Musgroves wish a match, but Lady Russell does not approve, from what I hear. She wishes more for Miss Anne. She favors her because, of the three girls,Anne Elliot most resembles her late mother.”

  “I believe it is time I return to the dance floor, Brother.” Frederick started forward to choose a partner and to enter the quadrille already in progress.

  Edward cautioned him, “If Lady Russell does not approve of Charles Musgrove, the brother of a curate will stand no chance.”

  “You will introduce me to Miss Anne later,” Frederick instructed as the two men walked toward a cluster of eligible young ladies waiting to be escorted to the floor.

  “Miss Anne,” Edward said, bowing, “may I introduce my brother, Commander Frederick Wentworth?”

  Frederick bowed.“Miss Anne.”

  “Commander.” She curtsied and then brought her eyes to Frederick’s face. She spoke to Edward but looked only at Frederick. “I believe, Mr. Wentworth, that your brother and I met briefly yesterday, although a formal introduction was not made at the time.” Her soft voice weakened Frederick’s knees, forcing him to shift his weight to maintain his stance.

  “You honor me, Miss Anne, with your recognition.” Frederick took her hand and lowered his head to kiss her gloved knuckles.

  “What brings you to Somerset, Commander?” Anne withdrew her hand slowly, allowing Frederick the pleasure of holding it for a few seconds.

  Frederick smiled at her. “Besides my brother’s fine company, I seek the peace of the English countryside. I will be joining the crew of a new ship when I return to my duties. Hopefully, I will command my own ship before long.”

  “Then you have the prospect of advancement?” Interest flashed in her eyes, and Frederick realized she was not one to pretend.

  “I do, Miss Anne.” He nodded toward the dance floor. “If you have not already promised the next set, would you honor me with your company?”

  Anne’s face glowed as she smiled up at him. “It would be my pleasure, Commander.”

  They danced in silence for a few minutes, until Frederick could bear it no longer.“Are we devoid of conversation so quickly, Miss Anne?”

  “I would hope not.” Her smile reached the corners of her eyes. “I was just contemplating the length of your name.”

  “It is a mouthful; is it not? Commander Frederick Wentworth. A man might expire before he could utter it in full.” His laughter teased her ear as they pa
ssed each other in the dance form.

  Anne’s head turned to follow his progress through the twirls and turns that would bring them back together. “Imposing,” she said, the word barely audible.“Both the man and the name.”

  Frederick felt his breath catch in his chest. Taking her hand as they proceeded down the line, he could not resist looking at her mouth.“Do you flatter me, Miss Anne?”

  He watched as the flush of her cheeks reddened. “I—I apologize, Commander,” she stammered.

  “Please do not apologize, Miss Anne. To have the attention of such a beautiful woman would make any man puff up with pride.”

  “It is my sister Elizabeth who is the beauty of the family. I have a mirror, Commander. Please, no exaggeration.” Those were her last words before they parted to circle other partners.

  Frederick watched her as she wove her way around the other dancers.When the music brought them back together, he held her hand a little more tightly and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “Miss Anne, I beg your forbearance with my words; I must speak the truth. I have traveled to the East Indies and many of the capitals of Europe; I have known the beauty of the world’s greatest architecture and its most compelling musical scores, but I have yet to see such beauty—a face that instantly affected me as yours did. Please forgive me if I offend you; it is not my wish to do so.”

  Long seconds passed as Frederick waited for her response. Rarely did he act so impulsively, but he felt as though he had seen into the innermost being of Anne Elliot in the first moment he laid eyes on her. She would, he hoped, recognize the honesty of his words. He felt heat move through him. Even through her gloved hand, he imagined the sense of her bare one on his.“Miss Anne,” he whispered again, his breath on the side of her face, “I should very much like to know your thoughts.” He held his breath.

  Anne lifted her chin, and Frederick fought the urge to move in closer.“I wondered, Commander, if we might sit together at supper?”

  Frederick exhaled. The gentleman should ask the question, he reflected, but Anne Elliot clearly was no prisoner of societal convention. Nor am I. One corner of his mouth curled upward. “It would be my great pleasure, Miss Anne, but only on the condition that you agree to call me Frederick.”

  There was a momentary hesitation before she responded. “Frederick.” She smiled up at him as the dance ended.“Thank you, Commander,” she said loudly for the benefit of those around her, but when she took his arm to go into supper, she said softly,“I look forward to your company, Frederick.”

  CHAPTER 2

  And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

  So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

  That smiles that win, the tints that glow,

  But tell of days in goodness spent,

  A mind at peace with all below,

  A heart whose love is innocent!

  —Lord Byron,“She Walks in Beauty”

  “To where are you off?” Edward inquired, giving Frederick a knowing grin, after having noted his brother’s careful grooming that morning.

  Frederick returned the smile.“I thought I might enjoy some of the countryside.A long walk perhaps.”

  “Would you care for some company?” his brother teased him.

  A laugh escaped Frederick.“I do not think I care for your company this morning. I hope you are not offended, Edward.”

  “I am not offended. However, do not compromise Miss Anne’s reputation. She deserves the best life has to offer.”

  “On that fact we do agree.” Frederick stood to make his exit. Anne Elliot had not agreed to go walking with him that morning, but twice during supper she had told him specifically where she would be walking and what time she would be in the area.

  Frederick grabbed a worn-looking blanket before he made his way out the door. At the bakery, he bought several fresh pastries and had them wrapped to take along with him. All night he had looked forward to seeing Anne Elliot again. His dreams had been filled with images of her. During supper the evening before, he had taken many opportunities to lean in close to her and to feel the heat simmering in her body. She was a flame; he was a moth.

  She had taken a deep interest in his stories of the sea.To his surprise, sheltered, wealthy Anne Elliot knew about the important battles; she recognized the names of the larger ships and their skippers. Rarely did he meet a woman who did not wince and change the subject when confronted with the realities of war. Frederick held little back; he spoke freely of the maneuvers a ship made, of the mechanics of boarding an enemy ship, and of the tragedies of war. Never had he known a person not part of the Navy with whom he could share such memories. Most wanted only to know whether he was a war hero.

  Now, in the early morning sun, he strode along the road leading out of town and toward the Kellynch estate. His heart felt light as he left the main road and cut across a field leading to a secluded lake.Then he spotted her, standing there under a river birch, leaning easily against its multiple trunks.Taking a deep breath, Frederick stepped forward. “Miss Anne?” he spoke to her profile as he approached.

  She turned to see him standing there. Dropping a curtsy, she murmured,“Commander Wentworth.”

  Frederick stepped forward to take her hand and bowed over it. He raised his head and studied her expression to determine if he had overstepped his limits by meeting her there alone. “Do I disturb your solitude?”

  Anne was silent for a moment as she seemed to weigh the propriety of the situation. Finally, she said, “I am glad, Frederick, that you attended to my words so closely last night.”

  “I assure you, Miss Anne, there was little about you to which I did not attend.” Frederick risked everything by stepping forward to trace her jaw line with his thumb. “You are exquisite.” For a moment, his breathing became shallow. Reluctantly, he forced his thoughts to the present situation.“May I walk with you?”

  “Thank you, Frederick.” She took his arm. “Why do you not leave your items here? We may return for them later.”

  “Excellent idea, Miss Anne.” He wrapped everything in the blanket and secured it high in one of the branches of the river birch. Then they strolled along the hedgerows surrounding the adjoining field.

  “My brother tells me that you lost your mother several years ago,” he began. “We have that in common. For myself, I have only Edward and my sister Sophia. She is married to Benjamin Croft, another naval officer. I predict that my brother Croft will be an admiral someday soon.”

  Anne met his bold gaze. “I miss my mother desperately; Lady Russell tries to provide me with some sense of family, but it is not the same.” She paused and flushed.“I—I cannot believe I am saying these things to you,” she stammered. “I rattle on about personal matters, and we are barely more than strangers.”

  “We are, Miss Anne, clearly more than strangers.We were from the moment our eyes met in the milliner’s shop.” Frederick added, “I appreciate your not making me play the lengthy courtship games that others demand. My time in Somerset is short; I do not have the ability to call upon you daily for many months before I might hold your hand.”

  “Is this a courtship, Frederick?” The words hung in the air between them. They stopped walking and looked deeply in each other’s eyes.

  Frederick touched Anne’s lips with his fingertips. “I stand enthralled,” he whispered.“I wish to court you properly,Anne, or as properly as one might while on military leave. I intend to win your regard.”

  She looked about nervously. “I should have brought a maid with me.”

  Clearly, the young lady does not always flout convention. He smiled slightly. Nor do I. “I will be the perfect gentleman, Anne; you have nothing to fear from me.” His tone, as he studied her, remained nonchalant.

  “I do not fear you, Frederick,” she said at last.To his eyes, Anne looked rather forlorn, even a bit lonely. Intuitively, he gathered her into his arms, needing to give her comfort; she relaxed, placing her head against his chest, resting her hand on the lapel of his ja
cket.

  Frederick swallowed hard, forcing his desire for her away.When she became his, it would be through an honest proposal. His head made the decision, but his body fought him. He wanted Anne—wanted her completely—yet, he would not act on his desire; he would do the honorable thing. “I do not wish to release you, my Dear, but I fear that we need to walk once again.” He lifted her chin with his fingertips and brushed Anne’s lips lightly with his.

  Anne blushed and moved away quickly. Frederick stepped up to take her hands in his.“Do not regret our intimacy,Anne. Ours will be a different relationship. We will offer each other honesty. I will write you love sonnets, and you will tell me how much more you prefer Lord Byron or Wordsworth.” That brought a smile to her lips.“I will bring you wildflowers, and you will throw out the roses of other suitors; but most of all, I will give you of myself, as you will to me. Surely you must feel it, too?”

  “I do feel it, Frederick.” Her voice touched his heart with hope.

  “Then let us return to the lake; I brought a blanket and a treat just for you, my Dear.” She smiled. Frederick thought that he could become addicted to her smiles.

  This time, she took his hand, and they walked silently back to the water. Frederick spread the blanket and then offered her the pastries. Anne’s eyes sparkled, making her even more beautiful. She was everything for which he yearned. He would prove to her aristocratic father that he was worthy of the attentions of a baronet’s daughter. “Tell me about yourself. What was your schooling like? And your friends?” He was intensely curious about this woman, already precious to him.

  “After my mother passed, my father and Lady Russell felt it best that I return to school. I do not know how I would have survived in Bath without my friend Miss Hamilton. I returned unhappy to school, grieving for the loss of a mother I dearly loved, feeling the separation from home, and suffering as a girl of fourteen, of strong sensibility and not high spirits, must suffer at such a time. Miss Hamilton, three years older than I, but still suffering from the want of near relations and a settled home, remained another year at school. She was useful and good in a way, which considerably lessened my misery. I can never remember her with indifference.”