by Robin Helm
“That is it! You have sketched her perfectly with just one look at her.”
“I am an excellent judge of character, as you know.” His brother liked this woman, that was clear. However, it was also clear by his description of the Baronet there was little to no chance of an Elliot-Wentworth alliance, now or ever.
“As I was saying, Miss Anne is the Elliot I like the best. You will have a chance to meet her properly. The Summer Ball approaches. It is a great party, open to everyone who wishes to come. I think it an excuse to parade the family’s wealth, but whatever their reason, I welcome an evening of good music. And good food, of course.”
“So do I, brother. So do I.”
Chapter Three
The Lovers Learn
The social habits of countryfolk were informal, and to an extent, spontaneous. A note came that morning inviting the curate and his guest to the home of the Pooles. “They are nice enough people. He is a conscientious landlord and his wife is always concerned that I am not married. She is one of those who sends me an endless supply of butter and things.”
“It says nothing about the evening. What will it be like?”
“They are not great thinkers, so I believe there will be a lot middling food, and dancing. The men will be talking about the coming harvest, and the ladies will be talking about preserving what comes from their gardens. Oh, and shooting in the autumn will come up.”
“My hope is to be back to Plymouth and the proud captain of a ship before then,” Frederick said, reading the invitation himself. “So, according to the Elliot ladies, knowledge of my being here has made the rounds.”
“Of course. There was probably a lot of speculation when they saw you walking the road. And when it was known you came to me, well, Edward Wentworth having a guest is big news in this part of the world.”
When the time came, Frederick put on his uniform with care. On his first foray into society he wanted to look his best. To attract the ladies with the blue and gold was a primary object, and to give his brother a much-deserved elevation in status would not hurt either.
The early evening was mild, and a pleasant time for a walk. “Be prepared to be told a dozen times how the cool summer has kept the crop yields small and will be the cause of devastation for years to come.” The Commander had to wonder if his brother had missed his calling with all his talk of crops and how the local farmers would speak about them. They came out of a small grove of trees to see their destination.
The setting sun bathed everything in a sweet, pure, golden light. But even that natural aid did nothing for the Poole house. The house faced the west and all the warm radiance did no favors to the great, squat cube with uneven windows, sitting alone in the midst of a wide, hilly field. It was a very old structure, grey stone with neither discernible charm nor much in the way of garden or grass surrounding. In all honesty, it looked like a giant dirty block had been tossed by a child and left in the empty field. The road leading up was razor-straight with several carriages making their way to the house. The scene again looked like children’s toys, again left for more interesting play elsewhere.
Edward and Frederick came from the north, at an angle from the drive. The curate waved now and then while Frederick studied the open carriages and their young, female passengers. One in particular caught his eye.
The livery of buff with orange cuffs and caps stood out from the rest. They expected the weather to remain good through the evening for the roof of the barouche was again lowered and gave clear view to the occupants. This time, the trio of ladies was joined by an older man. He sat with Lady Russell in the shadows while the young ladies were complemented by the sunlight. The gentleman was animated as the ladies sat quietly.
Miss Elliot was attentive, but Anne Elliot was staring out over the fields. She was so lost in thought she did not notice him and his brother. At first, he thought she was dressed in lavender, but it was really a peculiar watery blue. There were feathers of the same shade in her hair. They were set off by their stark contrast to its very dark brown. She looked like a statue, her neck in a graceful curve, encircled with a strand of dark beads. The only movement was of the feathers catching an occasional breeze, and the bobbing of the carriage. Unexpectedly, Miss Elliot looked his way as well. While she did nothing to acknowledge it, he was sure that she did see them.
Her complexion, too, was beautifully warmed by the setting sun. With a shrug, her dove-colored shawl slipped from her shoulders to reveal a turkey red gown. Still, giving no hint she saw him, she looked back to the others in the carriage. Frederick was now caught and considered several plans to bring about a more thoughtful meeting with the lovely, yet cool, Miss Elizabeth Elliot.
⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟
Once inside, Mr. Charles Hayter was one of the first to be introduced to the Commander. The fellow made an awkward leg, almost falling into a footman with refreshments. The young man caught himself, nodding and mumbling as he slunk off. Wentworth figured him to be no more than a year or two younger than himself. By comparison, the Commander’s life at sea had thoroughly equipped him to socialize, more so than the polite country bumpkin.
“He is a cousin to the Musgroves. That fellow over there in the green, he is Charles Musgrove. He will inherit Uppercross just north of here. It is second only to Kellynch Hall. Both father and son are good sorts.” Edward became occupied with seeing who was in attendance.
It did not matter. Frederick had decided that the young Hayter would be his foil. The plan was simple: Wentworth would study the boy for a dance or two and determine just how inept he was and figure out how to put his unfortunate talents to use.
It did not take very long to set things in motion. As with most parties, ladies were plentiful and out of desperation, Hayter was snatched up immediately for dancing. The Captain took up a position out of the way until the set was filled up, then he drew closer to get the lay of things. It only took a few turns of the musicians’ page for Hayter’s awkwardness to frustrate the other dancers. Disorder radiated from the fellow and rained on the set like a furious hail storm.
The spectacle was amusing enough until he saw Miss Elizabeth across the room. Her dark hair was intricately arranged with gold-flecked ribbons and flowers of amber shades. The dress he thought was red, was a lovely ginger color that complimented perfectly her dark brown eyes. The flicks of her ivory fan were perfect five-inch arcs he estimated. He thought he had cover enough from the moving dancers, but he caught her looking at him once. He looked away without giving her any indication he noticed her. “Women hate to be ignored, Freddy,” his friend Patrick had told him. “Even an ugly fellow can ignite some interest if he feigns disinterest. Of course, if he’s too ugly, and poor to boot, there’s no hope. But you, my friend, will get away with it easily.”
It took waiting through another dance, but eventually, everything was according to plan and he waited for Hayter’s inevitable blunder.
When he was finally able to meet up with her in the set, Elizabeth Elliot’s face registered surprise for only an instant, and then accepted him as easily as kiss-my-hand. “I saw you and your brother walking up to the house earlier. The curate looks well this evening.” Her tone left him no question to answer. Conversation did not seem to be anything she cared to have. Before he could force it from her, she said, “And what have you done with my partner?”
She is a cool one. “My brother is very well, in the peak of health. And I believe your partner has lost his way. I shall send out a party to search as soon as this set is finished. In the meantime, I am here to rescue you.” Just then, they passed by the dumbfounded looking Hayter. “Ah, Mr. Hayter is found. Hallelujah.”
The line formed up and all raised arms, clasped hands, and stepped face-to-face. “I am a little surprised that you would dance with a man whose reputation as a dancer is not very good.”
“My mother,” she said, smiling, “Always told me to make an effort with the neighbors.”
“Do you always listen to your mother?
”
“She passed away years ago.” Her expression did not change.
This was meant to shock, but thanks to Edward’s report on the locals, it did not. He genuinely expressed his regret.
“I chose Charles Hayter for the very reason you stated. He always gets lost and then I either obtain a new, more ingenious partner, or I am free of obligation for the rest of the evening.”
If she were a man, she’d be praised for her unconcealed cunning. As she was female, such acumen would be thought a challenge or something to worry on. He would worry.
They finished the set, the music stopped, and everyone clapped politely. They took their time moving off the dance floor. “The Pooles have a magnificent house here.”
She lifted her chin and glanced about. “This house has the misfortune of being dull and ugly. Much like its owners. Kellynch Hall is far lovelier.”
This statement was hubris on a grand scale but having looked at the place from what would normally be an advantageous prospect, he could understand it. They came to the refreshment table and Frederick put a few choice morsels on a plate for her. “The truth about grand families such as yours, and the Pooles, is that the family and the house are one.”
She took the plate without looking at it. “That you understand such a thing does you credit.”
Well, well, a crack in the ice.
The clink of the china plate against the table was harsh in contrast to the gentle rolling hubbub of voices. “I do not care for any refreshment just yet.” She looked to the dance floor.
Worry was not yet to be employed, though vigilance was appropriate.
“Where exactly did you learn to dance?” she asked, still watching the dance floor.
“Here and there. Mostly aboard ship. When duties are done in the evenings the crew is free to amuse themselves. Several of the men play instruments and take them out to play for those who wish to sing and dance on deck until time for the first watch to go to sleep.” He considered asking her a similar question, but that would be impertinent. He would treat this as if it was a discussion with a touchy superior officer. “You are a wonderful dancer. Your father must have employed one of the finest masters to be had.” That should satisfy her sense of superiority.
“Oh yes, Father brought one of the best from London. He had been in Paris for many years but with all the troubles he was driven out and so came to London. He offers his talent to those who show promise. It was no trouble for Father to bring him here for a month several years ago.”
“You father is a man of taste. I understand he will be opening the doors of your home to the neighborhood in a few weeks’ time.”
“Yes, the Summer Ball is the grandest affair in Somerset.” She looked away from the dancers for the first time and faced him. “It will be the perfect opportunity to show off our skills. To let the neighborhood see how talented,” she paused, “or not, our teachers may have been.”
Yes, this one was quick and cold. It was time to finish up this interlude and find Edward so that he might crow over the commander’s arrogance. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Elliot.”
He didn’t have to wait long for his drubbing as Edward sidled up to him almost immediately. “Now that you have spent a bit more time with her, what do you think of our Miss Elliott?”
“I think she is beautiful. And just as you said, as cold and cruel as the Irish Sea in winter.”
“I said nothing about her being cruel.”
“Maybe not cruel, but rude as newly made lord. However, in deference to your position here, I will never say that to anyone who matters.”
Chapter Four
The Lovers Consider
In the week following the party the Elliots and Wentworths were never together. There was a card party at the Lodge for Anne to endure, and the Wentworths picnicked with the rector of Uppercross parish, Dr. Reynolds, and his wife. It was at this picnic that Frederick met Mr. Charles Musgrove and his brother, Richard. The brothers were invited to a party in a week’s time, at Uppercross Mansion.
A party overseen by Mrs. Musgrove was always a lively affair. It was that liveliness that made Elizabeth politely refuse their invitations. In most cases. Anne suspected that, in reality, her sister did enjoy the mayhem but felt it and the company beneath her. So, it was not all that surprising to find Elizabeth in the entryway dressed and ready when Lady Russell arrived in her carriage to take Anne to the Musgrove’s.
As the carriage swayed, Anne enjoyed the still-light evening as it passed by them. She was trying to ignore the conversation between her sister and godmother. They had little in common but were each bent on making the other see the error of their opinions. It was tiresome until she heard the name Wentworth mentioned.
“I was mortified when he slipped into Mr. Hayter’s place and took my hand as if I had agreed to dance with him.”
“I had not heard of this. What did you do?”
“There was little I could do that would not call attention to myself, so I finished out the dance. He tried to make small talk, but he is not very good at it.”
“Men of that sort never are. Imagine, forcing himself on you in such an infamous way. You should have stopped immediately and walked off the floor. Putting people of low birth to shame is the only way to teach them. If they are even intelligent enough to be taught.”
“I was humiliated. Fortunately, it was only a gathering of the neighbors, and the Pooles, no less, so no one was of a sort that would take any notice of such bad manners.”
They went on and on about the incident, and never grasped the irony of belittling the Commander for his bad manners while disparaging him and the entire neighborhood. They never would. Regardless, she would remain thankful her godmother was in the mood for another party so soon, and that she was willing to bring Anne with her.
“Anne.” Elizabeth’s lips were pursed, and her head cocked to one side. She was awaiting an answer.
“I am sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?”
She took a breath. “I asked what you think of the sailor’s rudeness. You seemed very interested in him the day we met him and the curate on the road.”
Both ladies looked at her awaiting the answer. So, her suspicions were correct, and Elizabeth had noticed. Now that it was made so obvious, Lady Russell was alerted as well. Anne was sure of her own interest, but to say as much after the pair’s merciless flogging of the man would be foolish.
“I think he is a man who lives a world of men. I assume that such niceties are foreign to him. If not completely foreign, then used so rarely he is unskilled.” It was a rambling mess of an explanation, but it seemed to answer.
“I thought they were supposed to be officers and gentlemen,” Elizabeth said to Lady Russell. And off they went on the nature of a soldier also being a gentleman.
Anne could settle back for the last mile and enjoy being away from Kellynch Hall.
Already preparations for the anniversary party were taking over the house. Every room looked as if a giant had shaken it and discarded the contents. It was a necessary evil for an inventory of all the glasses, dishes, and table linens. There was an endless discussion of the menu as well. It was surely unintended, but her father seemed to insist upon ices, jellies, and ice creams. All these were possible, but as preparations were made for them, the housekeeper and Cook exchanged a great many looks. They knew it was less about their master’s generosity than his desire to remind everyone about the copious amounts of ice used for their benefit.
No matter, Anne was free for this evening and she would enjoy this party to the uttermost.
They arrived and were greeted with the customary Musgrove enthusiasm. Anne held her breath when Mrs. Musgrove mentioned dancing and the need for someone to spell her on the piano. “But Henrietta is nagging me to do so. Her playing is not to our taste, Miss Anne, but we have to give the young ones their chance, now don’t we?”
“Indeed.” What a delight. She would be free for the evening.
It was also a relief that Young Charles Musgrove was being kept busy by the enormity of the party and showed no inclination to converse with her. He was a perfectly nice young man, but his attentions were awkward.
Is he truly interested in me, or am I misunderstanding him? Anne sighed. If it was the former, she had no reciprocal feelings to give, and if it was the latter the whole muddle would be too embarrassing for words. This was a trifle and not really worth the worry.
“Excuse me,” a voice behind her said.
Anne turned and found herself staring into a set of shiny gold buttons on a field of deepest blue. She looked up into the hazel eyes of Commander Wentworth.
“I’m sorry, I was just looking for my brother. This crush makes it impossible to keep clear of everyone.”
‘Not at all, sir. I was inattentive. It is very good to see you again.”
His smile froze. He must not remember her. The best remedy for that was to ignore the slip and pretend they were the best of friends. “I am ready for dancing this evening. I noticed you enjoyed yourself at the Poole’s the other evening, so I assume you will here as well.”
As if on cue, a fiddler played a bit of an air. He smiled. “I do enjoy dancing, and I regret that we had no chance at the Poole’s. I did not see you else I would have offered.”
Well, perhaps he did remember her. She smiled, for so few did. “I too regret missing the opportunity, but I was asked to help with another matter and so was deprived of participating. My only entertainment was in watching the festivities from one of the doorways. Shall we remedy the omission this evening?” Her own forthrightness was a pleasant surprise.
He perked up at the suggestion that they have a dance or two. She must take the precaution of making sure he knew her. As she was about to speak, a hand touched her arm. “Anne, Commander, please excuse my intrusion, but I must introduce Anne to someone.” Without a pause, Lady Russell turned and pulled Anne by the arm to another part of the room.