by Susan Kaye
Wentworth watched the back-and-forth between Mr. Musgrove and his younger daughter. Looking around the room he sensed that only he felt any embarrassment at the scene playing out so publicly. Perhaps as a man of authority himself, he was acutely aware of her father’s position. No man relished having his opinion disregarded before the eyes of others.
“Father is right, Louisa. Were this urgent, the risk to the horses would be understandable, but merely for pleasure…well, it isn’t worth it.” The son’s stepping in to aid his father was a heartening sign. Soon the whole matter would be laid to rest. “Besides, even if you were to leave early, the travelling time would leave only an hour or two for the visit. Not worth the effort if you ask me.”
“Perhaps not to you, Charles, but there are those in this family who have interests in a wider world,” Mrs. Charles said. There seemed to be a little nod of support moving through the younger Musgrove ladies. Stealing a look at the piano, he saw that Anne was puzzled about something, and as best he could tell, the object was her sister.
He was encouraged to think that they might be in agreement. Perhaps she, too, thought it strange that her sister, a woman who probably gave little thought to anything not directly involving herself, would make such a statement in support of Louisa.
Now, Louisa was on her feet. “Papa, might you consent if we were to go to Lyme one day, stay over to allow the horses a rest, and then return home the next day?” The expression on her face was angelic, and her hands were folded in such a way as to be a model of supplication. He wondered whether, before was all said and done, the girl might not have her father driving the carriage himself. A glance at the piano made him know he was not the only one intrigued.
Though the poor man stood right next to him, in every practical way he was being goaded into a corner. His discomfort was conspicuous. He studied the faces about the room, drained his tea cup and muttered as though he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Old Mr. Musgrove hadn’t the stomach to outright deny her, and he seemed unable to find any plausible excuse at his disposal. Were it not a family matter, Wentworth would step in with reasons enough, but his own news had not yet been told; and he wished to leave the area on good terms with the family. Silence was his best strategy.
“Father, that might not be a bad plan,” Charles finally said. A smile at his wife made it clear where his central allegiance lay. The son approached and began to outline his idea. Louisa joined him.
Oh, God, now the scheme is infecting the whole bunch of them! Wentworth moved away. Standing next to the tea table, he relented and took a piece of cake. Just as he took a bite, Louisa said, “That is not a problem, Father. Surely Captain Wentworth will see to everything. He knows the town well. He would take care to find us the best accommodations and introduce us to the best sort of people. No one would dare to do or say anything untoward with him in our midst. And if that is not enough, I’m sure Anne can be persuaded to accompany us. I know you trust her judgment.”
The deed was done. Her father gave his bruised consent and she shifted her gaze to Wentworth. He had to marvel. The girl had beaten back every objection and gotten precisely what she wanted. While he was stuffing himself with cake and could raise no objection, she had tidily pulled him into the scheme as well. In fact, he suspected it was on the weight of his and Anne’s supervision of the group that the old man had allowed himself to be persuaded. What a chit! She used me to hoist the old boy. He had never met a master tactician who looked so innocent and lovely.
Plans were flying fast and furious. He heard his own name and Anne’s mentioned together in nearly every sentence. To this point, he had said nothing. There was little left for him to say! He had not been invited; so his consent was unnecessary. Whether he cared to be their guide and protector seemed to matter very little to anyone. So, this is what it is to be part of the cyclone called the family Musgrove.
He was then engulfed by the group with questions on the specifics of visiting Lyme: how warm during the day, how cool at night? Would the ladies and gentlemen dress for dinner and need eveningwear? Would there be dancing when they visited the Harvilles or merely a quiet card party? Wishing to say there was not enough time in a week to accomplish all they mentioned, Wentworth tempered his answers and tried to remind them of the restraints of time and the situation of his friend.
“I know it is wholly unexpected, Anne, but you will not disappoint us?” Henrietta asked as Anne abandoned the piano bench to join them. He was curious to hear what she thought of the proposal.
“No, certainly not. By all the Captain has told us, Lyme sounds to be a lovely place. I am happy to be included in the party.” Her former puzzlement was replaced with a genuine smile of interest. All of his misgivings immediately disappeared. Now all that was left was to explain to his sister this latest change in his plans.
~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~
The night before, in the midst of all the various discussions and all the varied, woolly opinions, he had managed to impress upon them the importance of setting a departure time and sticking with it. They would all meet at the mansion for an early breakfast. While they ate, the dunnage would be loaded. This would necessitate that the ladies be packed and ready by the time they retired the previous evening. As he studied the nodding, smiling faces, he suspected only one had any intentions of being ready in the morning.
The first plan had been that the group would ride together in Mr. Musgrove’s travelling coach. This plan brought an immediate demand from Mrs. Charles, who declared that she would not only sit forward, a position desired by several others as well, but that she would also be seated on one particular side of the coach and not the other. “The view to the right hand is always more varied and interesting, I think.”
“You know, the idea of being cooped up with four women for several hours does not appeal to me,” Musgrove said to Wentworth, offering him a generous glass of sherry.
“We could show our fortitude and ride with the driver,” the Captain said. Though, considering the time of year, that suggestion was one he might come to regret.
“Yes, well, since you don’t mind the chill air, I shall take my curricle. It will give me the opportunity to try her out full-tilt.” He was relieved when Musgrove came up with this bit of sense. It was presented as the only means to give the maximum amount of comfort to all parties. All the ladies, save one, were enthusiastic.
The next day the Admiral drove Wentworth to Uppercross and was astonished to see all the preparations. “Whoa.” The Admiral pulled the gig to a stop and declared, “Good God, Frederick, you told your sister you would only be gone one night. This looks to be a six-month at the very least. You did say you were only going to Lyme?”
The travelling coach was out, with two grooms polishing various bits of brass and inlay. Of the six horses, two were being changed out in favour of two others. He suspected Mrs. Charles was responsible for this as now all the horses matched in hue. No doubt, the polishing was also undertaken at her suggestion since the curricle sitting alongside was being wiped down as well. Its horses looked to be matched already. He was dismayed to see several small trunks strewn about, and a few others going up and down off the top of the coach. The drive resembled the staging area worthy of a First Rate ship, not the preparations for a pleasure trip of just over twenty-four hours. Jumping down, he pulled his battered satchel from under the seat. “I suspect when the Musgroves travel, they like to be comfortable.”
“Well, there is comfortable, and then there is comfortable. Remember what your sister said.” The evening before, Sophia had listened patiently while he explained how the scheme to go to Lyme had evolved and he had been pulled into the whole affair. He was prepared for some lively discussion and was surprised when all she had to say was, in her opinion, he could not get to Edward fast enough and that he should be careful while travelling, as there were always unexpected dangers away from home.
“I shall be careful, sir. Perhaps you might help my sister polish her cry
stal ball so that she can see more clearly just what sort of dangers I face.” Instead of the customary understated reply from his brother-in-law, he was surprised to see a knitted brow and a thoughtful look.
“She’s a woman, Frederick. She sees things that neither you nor I would ever notice.” He bid him a good trip and manoeuvred out of the yard.
Entering the house, Wentworth had few hopes of it being in any better state. His expectations were well-founded. Servants were hurrying here and there; Mrs. Musgrove welcomed him but excused herself and rushed on. He was taken to the dining room where he found most of his fellow travellers and Mr. Musgrove gathered at the table. He had to admit, in the midst of all this chaos, they were a happy lot. The loud conversations were punctuated with frequent laughter. It was a definite contrast to his own family, now or in the past.
Mr. Musgrove bid him fill a plate and join them. He approached the table to find that the only seat not occupied by a body or baggage for the journey was next to Anne. As usual, her part of this world looked to be calm and quiet. He was glad to share a bit of peace at the moment.
“Captain, you must help me,” Louisa said, gently taking his arm so as not to spill his plate and guiding him to a place she had cleared next to herself. She picked up two bonnets so he might put down his food. “Which of these would be more appropriate for Lyme?” she asked. “I am more partial to the one with the red trim, but perhaps the blue is more the fashion there.”
What he knew of the fashions in Lyme would leave a vast wasteland in a thimble. Other than Mrs. Harville, he’d noticed no women on his trip, much less what they chose to wear on their heads. He was partial to blue and said as much. Her frown mystified him, and he was rather put out when she immediately began a long explanation as to why the red would better suit.
“It is obvious that you have more understanding and have given more thought to such matters than I,” he said, taking a seat. As he salted his eggs, he glanced at Anne. Before she could look away, he saw a very pronounced smile grace her lips.
Have your fun, Anne. I would see you have a little cheer even at my own expense. He was raising the fork to his mouth when Mr. Musgrove declared the group should be off if they were to arrive in good time. It appeared he would again arrive in Lyme ravenous.
His hopes for a quick remove improved for a few moments, when everyone moved themselves and their belongings towards the door. These hopes dwindled as he stood to the side and watched first one, then another, of the party remember something in the house that must be retrieved. The others had all disappeared except Anne. She stood out of the way but close enough for him to say, “Do the Musgroves travel often?”
Clearing her throat, she said, “No, not really. This is very exciting for everyone.” She didn’t turn so he could not see her expression, but he thought she was smiling.
“May I put your bag up for you?”
“No, that is not necessary. One of the men can put it up.”
“Please, it would give me something to occupy myself.”
“Well, if you really need something to do.” She handed it to him.
“You travel light.”
“It is only overnight. There is no need for much.”
“I had thought so myself.” He nodded towards the top of the carriage. “There is more than enough dunnage up there to see us through to the other side of the world, I think.” He handed up her bag and directed its placement. Returning to her side, he found there was nothing much to say.
The chaotic air and activity, all of which accomplished nothing, were getting under his skin. Checking his watch, he could not help a sigh. It bordered on a growl, and he determined to check himself. Stepping around the carriage, he surveyed the yard, hoping to find Musgrove. He and Mrs. Charles were at the curricle having an animated discussion. Rejoining Anne, he observed, “I cannot comprehend this. The time was set yesterday. All knew it and all agreed to it.”
“Perhaps, because you do not suffer women to travel aboard your ship, you do not understand the preparations involved.” She was obviously not speaking for herself, as her baggage was perfectly arranged.
“I suppose it is my nature. I am not used to such disorganization.”
He heard his name being called, and Musgrove appeared from the other side of the carriage. “Captain, could you hold this brute? He does not like all the upheaval, and he’s getting the other all stirred up. And now Mary has decided that she needs me inside.” He leant in close. “Were it not for the fact that the shrieking and crying would be so loud as to follow us all the way to Lyme, I’d just as soon we take the gig and leave at once.” Wentworth smiled at the thought, but said nothing.
“Charles!”
“Coming, Dearest!”
He turned to make comment to Anne, but she had disappeared. The horses began a little two-step that demanded his full attention. Walking them, he settled on a nice patch of sunlight for some warmth.
“Aye, if I was captain of this crew I’d be frothing,” he said to his equine audience. They bobbed their heads up and down, seemingly in agreement. The encouragement was heartening. “Yes, you understand.” The beast nearest him looked to be a fine creature, and he was glad he had asked Musgrove for his advice. It was clear he knew decent horseflesh. “You are no cart-horse, are you? No, but in the country one does what one must in order to eat.” The second nickered.
“Truly, if this were Laconia, I’d have a few in irons by now.” The horses stamped their feet and one nudged Wentworth’s shoulder. “In sympathy with the common man, eh? Grounds, you ask? Well, there is Article Thirty-six. So broad and deep that nearly anything annoying falls under it. But for this crew, I rather favour Twenty-seven, ‘Negligence in Performing Duty’.”
One of the pair nodded while the one closest to him swung his head and landed a hard blow on his chest. “Ah well, yes, not her. She’s performed admirably. Right on time, gloves on and hat in place, bag packed and stowed. No fault to find with her at all.”
“No, no,” a voice cut into his peace. “Carry it flat. Please, be very careful with it.” Mrs. Charles was evidently annoyed with one of the footmen. “Anne, you simply must convince Charles to take me back to the Cottage. I have forgotten my new gloves, and I must have them for the evening.”
“Mary, I do not think you will need such fine gloves for the evening.”
If he could hear the sisters just around the corner, he wondered if the sound of his own conversation might not drift their way as well. And just what would the daughter of a baronet think when she discovered him talking to two horses?
The conversation about the gloves continued, the elder sister admonishing the younger. “I think it is more important that we get on our way. It is rude that a time was agreed upon and we are very close to missing it. The Captain is very kind in taking us to this new place and introducing us to his particular friend. I am afraid we may be trespassing upon his patience.” It was cheering to hear her speak up. Particularly concerning anything to do with him.
“I think it is you who are not patient. You are the one who has been nowhere since returning from school. It is you who is in a hurry to be away. Besides, do you actually believe he does us the favour? Do you not think it will put him in good stead to show his ‘particular’ friend that he moves in such good circles here in Somerset? Honestly, Anne, you act as if he should not take pride in his alliance with Kellynch Hall and the Elliot family.”
Leaning close to his new friends, Wentworth said, “My sister and brother save her father from financial ruin, and she thinks the alliance is to my good.” Moving closer to the corner of the carriage, he leant back to listen again, but the sisters were gone. Ruffling the forelocks of both beasts, he said, “She understands, doesn’t she? Never been anywhere in all these years. Perhaps I should take you and her and we all ride to Lyme and leave the rest to ponder the error of their ways.” The horses merely blinked.
“Captain, I think I’ve got the ladies moving towards the carriage. Jus
t another few minutes,” Charles said, tapping one of the horses on the nose. “I’m off to herd them this way.”
He wondered how Mrs. Charles would take to being herded. “Aye, we shall be right here,” he called. To the horse, he said, “Article Twenty-seven it is.”
“Twenty-seven?” repeated a female voice.
He started and immediately began cobbling together an explanation to Anne, then was more startled to find it was not her but Louisa who had overhead. “It is nothing. Are the ladies ready?”
“Not quite yet. Anne is impatient to be off. She is helping Mary find a pair of gloves and hurrying Henrietta. She sent me out with strict instructions to do nothing more than stand by the carriage, ready to leave.” Patting one of the horses with just the tips of her gloved hand she said, “I was thinking that I could easily convince Charles that Mary would be most pleased if he were to ride with her in the carriage.”
Her hand wandered close to his that held the horse’s bridle. “Then I could ride with you in the gig. I do adore riding in the open air.”
Henrietta’s intentions were quite transparent. He began checking the harness for anything loose. “I think it a bit cool and too long a ride for any lady to be in the open air.”
“Surely you remember your very own sister saying how women are rational creatures and do not wish to be always in calm waters. I would add, warm carriages.”
Admiral Nelson’s saying about putting aside manoeuvres and going right at the target came to mind. “Miss Louisa, I think we both know it would be highly improper for the two of us to ride alone all the way to Lyme. Your parents—”
“My parents are very trusting…particularly of you.” Louisa smiled persuasively.
“Well, Mary has found the perfect gloves,” Charles announced from behind them, “and Anne is doing her best to get her out the door. Henrietta is saying good-byes to Father and Mama, so I would say we are nearly gone, Captain.”