by Alexa Adams
“You were quite intent upon your musings. May I presume their subject was your meeting with my father?”
He grimaced, “Sir Walter Elliot, forgive me my dear, is an insufferable fool. I will never say so again, so you need not reprimand me for expressing such sentiments towards the man I must thank for your existence, but I must expunge the bile this once, while I still do not call him Father.”
“You shall hear no censure from my lips. He has given you his blessing?”
“He has expressed gratification in our engagement, yes. It seems I have Lady Dalrymple to thank; she was so good as to declare me handsome, thereby negating my many other shortcomings.”
“Oh dear,” Anne sighed. “At least we face no opposition. I would not have enjoyed marrying against his will.”
“But you would if necessary?”
“I am no longer a girl and may marry where I choose.”
“And Lady Russell?”
“Is ready to make amends for the wrongs of the past. She was surprised by the news, but after laying Mr. Elliot's sorry history before her, she had little choice but to admit that she had been completely wrong in her previous opinions. She has taken up a new set of hopes, and they are entirely focused on you, my dearest.”
“I love to hear you call me that.”
“I remember.”
**********
They dined with the Crofts that evening, with whom they might sincerely rejoice in their betrothal. Mrs. Croft was in transports over her brother's engagement, and her effusions charmed all.
"I have so longed for Frederick to find the right lady with whom to settle down, and quite despaired the day would ever come." Her brother chuckled. "Oh I had no doubt that you would marry someone, my dear, but I had almost given up hope that she would be the right lady. Louisa Musgrove is a fine girl, no doubt, but I do not think she would have made you happy, Frederick. Your minds are too unequal, and you do not want a silly wife, which is what she would have become had you married her."
"Nonsense, Sophy! Either of those Musgroves would have done fine for Frederick. They are admirable and charming ladies, but I too prefer Miss Elliot here, as I think you know very well."
"But you are quite mistaken, my dear Admiral! I have seen it all too often. A man of Frederick's parts weds a pretty and amiable young wife, a few years removes the novelty of their acquaintance, and the pert ways that once charmed begin to frustrate. The man grows to despise his wife, and her personality suffers in turn, exasperating a situation that has no end but in misery. Marry a woman like Anne – you do not mind me calling you by your given name, do you my dear? –
and she shall be the making of you! I could not be more pleased!"
"Nor could I," grinned the Captain. "I knew a woman eight years ago who I thought none would ever equal, and it is my undeserved good fortune to have been proven wrong. She has surpassed even herself."
Anne blushed, thinking of his words regarding the alteration the years had wrought, so kindly conveyed to her by her sister Mary, but now was not the occasion to quibble. "My dear Captain Wentworth, only a man blinded by love could say such a thing, but I dare not begrudge you your besotted state, for it is far too charming!"
"Well said, Miss Elliot! Very clever, isn’t she?"
"If we must begin our life together in a haze of fantasy, I do hope I at least know well enough to make the most of it, Admiral!"
"I suppose you will now change your tune about allowing women aboard your ship, Frederick," said Mrs. Croft.
"Yes, we shall see him do as you and I, should we be lucky enough to have another war. Worry the entire fleet with transport requests for his wife, no doubt."
"I must say I hope that we find ourselves rather unlucky than otherwise, if good luck means war," put forth Anne.
"Exactly how you should feel," confirmed Admiral Croft, with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "One cannot expect a young lady, with no previous naval ties, to appreciate the problems peace brings to sailors. You will learn to think of it otherwise. You will stand by his side, will you not, Miss Anne, if the opportunity should arise? I think you would make a fine sailor. You have the look of one."
"No matter what life may bring, I plan to face it with Captain Wentworth," she smiled consciously. "I only hope, should I be tested, that my legs prove seaworthy."
"I’m sure they will, but do you all really believe my prejudices so easily overcome?" questioned the Captain. "They are not, let me assure you! It will take more than the acquisition of a wife to change my mind about allowing ladies aboard. I never took issue with a singular lady, you may recall, and only one will be tolerated on my ship." He smiled at Anne meaningfully.
"Delightful! That will suit perfectly, until your children are born," Mrs. Croft announced triumphantly.
"You see, Miss Elliot, that what Sophia really wants is not a wife for her brother, but a mother for her nieces and nephews."
“Please do not expect me to defend you from your sister, Captain,” replied Anne teasingly, “for her cause has my entire sympathy.” They all laughed, and in a similar, playful vein did the conversation continue. The future was looked forward to with great anticipation, with all its potential blessings discussed in turn. It was quite late when Captain Wentworth and Mrs. Croft accompanied Anne home to Camden Place, where she was surprised to find her sister and father still in the drawing room, discussing the evening's events.
"There you are, Anne," her father greeted with spirit. "You will be quite gratified to know that Lady Dalrymple is decidedly pleased with the addition of Captain Wentworth to our family circle. Which reminds me, you must ascertain if he has any Irish descent. Our cousin is most convinced he must, though I continue to suspect there might be some connection to the Strafford family after all. Something rather like Sir Robert about him. Both are fine, well-looking men, would you not say so, Elizabeth?"
"Both are tall and well-formed, undoubtedly, but Sir Robert is rather fairer than the Captain."
"Perhaps. It may be so. Nevertheless, some investigation is in order. Now Anne, have you decided upon a wedding date? It would be most convenient if it took place rather sooner than later, so that Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret may attend. Would six weeks be sufficient time for your preparations?"
"I hardly know, Father. We have yet to discuss the matter in detail, though neither of us want to wait for much longer." For we have had quite enough of that, she silently added. "Frederick will go to the Cathedral tomorrow to speak with the bishop. "
"Very well. I've written to Shepherd regarding your settlement. I see no reason why you cannot be married quickly, perhaps even within the month."
"It might take a bit longer than that to provide a wardrobe and carriage, Father," said Elizabeth, without looking up from the needlework she was assiduously pursuing.
"Not much longer, I am sure!" he replied optimistically. "I am for bed. Goodnight, Elizabeth. Anne."
Seeing her sister persist in her work, Anne similarly chose to delay retiring, quite curious to learn how Mr. Elliot reacted to the news of her engagement, as Sir Walter's discourse indicated he surely had. Gently she broached the subject with her sister, "Mrs. Clay has retired as well?"
"Yes. Penelope was quite fatigued upon our return and went immediately to her room."
"Was it a pleasant party?"
"No. I am afraid it was not. The rooms were hot, and the company lacked elegance."
"How did you find Lady Dalrymple and her daughter?"
"Miss Carteret is ill, Anne, as you would surely know if you paid the slightest attention," Elizabeth sighed impatiently, "and Lady Dalrymple is in perfect health, as always."
"And Mr. Elliot?"
Elizabeth finally looked up at her sister, her eyes flashing. "He seemed not his usual self. Nor did Lady Russell, for that matter. The two barely spoke a word. He spent nearly the entire time in converse with Colonel Wallis, except when he partnered Mrs. Clay in a rubber."
"Was it his conversation that wa
s so stimulating as to so exhaust Mrs. Clay?"
"Quite."
The sisters' eyes caught, each perceiving the other's discomfort with this turn of events, though for entirely different reasons. Anne had not yet learned to trust Mrs. Clay, and while Mr. Elliot had been blunt in his disapprobation for the lady, this public display of companionship upon the heels of what had every appearance of being a clandestine meeting in Bath Street made her suspicious. Elizabeth, while she would never dream her friend could be so presumptuous as to form a tendre for Mr. Elliot, was nevertheless angered by his attention to Mrs. Clay. However, as the sisters were not close, and neither had any wish to make the other a confidant, the subject was pursued no further. Formal good evenings comprised their only parting words.
**********
“You will not believe what has happened!” cried a beaming Henrietta, rushing into her mother's rooms at the White Hart. “Where is Mama?”
Mary Musgrove turned from her station at the window overlooking the entrance to the Pump Room, where she had been eagerly engaged in watching the morning bustle of Bath, to confront her sister-in-law. “You need not be in such an excited state, Henrietta. I saw you racing down Bath Street, and I am not the only one whose attention you captured. Try to compose yourself.”
Henrietta's smile faded slightly, but the import of what she had to share negated any hesitancy she felt in ignoring Mary’s admonition, “Oh Mama!” she exclaimed as that good lady entered the room. “I saw Lady Russell in Molland's, and she told me the most extraordinary thing. Anne is to be married, and you will never guess to whom!”
“Anne engaged!” cried Mrs. Musgrove, clasping her hands together in delight.
Mary rose quickly and crossed the room to Henrietta, her face a picture of shocked rapture, “Oh Henrietta! Is it my cousin, Mr. Elliot, my father's heir? I know Elizabeth would have him, but the whole town is abuzz with his attentions to Anne. A more perfect match I cannot imagine! Elizabeth will be livid! Just think: both Anne and I married, and she an old maid!”
“It is not Mr. Elliot,” Henrietta excitedly revealed, gleefully bringing a halt to Mary's conjectures.
Mary's countenance fell. “Then whomever could it be?”
“You cannot be more surprised then myself, for she is to marry our own Captain Wentworth!”
Mary fell back into a conveniently situated chair, thoroughly astonished. “Captain Wentworth?” she questioned her own ears.
Mrs. Musgrove appeared equally befuddled. “I had not the slightest notion they were attached! Surely, I have never seen them exchange more than a few words, in all our time together.”
“Nor have I,” concurred Mary.
“Lady Russell says it is an attachment of long standing. They fell in love eight years ago, when the Captain was visiting his brother at Monksford. Mama, do you not see, this is why she would not marry Charles! Her heart was not her own!” Henrietta sighed contentedly, thoroughly enrapt by such a tale. Lady Russell had told the story succinctly, betraying none of the complexities of her own emotions, but to a mind like Henrietta's, particularly under the influence of her engagement, it was irresistibly romantic.
Mary, having recovered her senses at mention of her husband's earlier proposal to Anne, began to muddle through the facts of the case, “Eight years ago … when they had previously met … oh my! She must have rejected him!”
“Oh no, Mary,” Henrietta insisted. “Lady Russell said he was too young to marry at the time. I am sure no one would reject the Captain.”
“Gracious me, no,” concurred Mrs. Musgrove. “Yet I did wonder at how quickly he seemed to recover from Louisa's attachment to Captain Benwick.”
“Precisely!” cried Mary. “And how could he have paid her such attentions if he was already in love with Anne? Why, they barely acknowledged each other when they first met again at Uppercross Cottage! Indeed, they seemed to avoid each other. What explanation have you other than a falling out?”
“The way Lady Russell tells it, I seriously doubt he proposed previously.”
“But nothing else makes sense!” Mary insisted. “To think that they might never have come to this happy conclusion, had I not kept Anne with me this autumn! I must go to Camden Place at once!”
“Call for the carriage, Henrietta. We shall all go. Miss Elliot’s call must be repaid.”
The Musgroves were not Elizabeth's only visitors that morning. The drawing rooms at Camden Place had rarely been more eagerly sought than now, as news of Anne's surprising engagement spread through the town. To everyone's gratification, Anne was at home and entertaining her fiancée. Elizabeth greeted each influx of cards graciously, saying all that was proper on such an occasion to those select few admitted into her company, but Mary immediately perceived the chagrin lurking behind her practiced elegance. Pleased with the accuracy of her first suspicion, she eagerly sought to confirm the rest.
“I am so happy for you, my dear Anne! How I marvel that I could not see it before! All that time we spent together last year, and none of us had the least notion that you and Captain Wentworth had formed an attachment. How very secretive you both have been!”
Anne smiled at Frederick, saying only, “I can well imagine your surprise.”
Mary did not find this response terribly satisfying and looked to Henrietta for support in her interrogation, but the younger lady, absorbed in romance, proved thoroughly unhelpful. Mrs. Musgrove was equally disobliging, busily engaged as she was in sharing with an apathetic Elizabeth news of the Uppercross tenants. No matter what approach Mary attempted, Anne and the Captain both continued to respond to her many questions in a vague, unrevealing manner.
“Tell me, Captain, was it the high spirits of my Musgrove sisters that added to Anne’s attractions, or was your admiration solidified when you first met?”
“I have always admired Anne's elegance, Mrs. Musgrove.”
“Yet I thought there was a decided coldness between you when you first met at Uppercross Cottage, perhaps dating back to your previous acquaintance, when you visited your brother at Monksford?”
“That was years ago, Mary. We met again as near strangers.”
“But Lady Russell told Henrietta that you had been long attached!”
“We did enjoy each other's company, Mary, but eight years brings unforeseen changes.”
“I was certain there must have been some sort of previous agreement between you.”
Though Captain Wentworth was able to derive some pleasure in denying the proud Mrs. Musgrove her purpose, Anne could not enjoy her sister's persistance. She tried to endure it for the sake of protecting her own privacy, but it was against her nature to permit Mary's bad temper unchecked reign. With her thorough knowledge of the character she had to pacify, Anne proceeded with her usual skill in altering Mary's mood. “It is you we have to thank, Mary, for our present happiness. It was all the time spent at Uppercross that brought us to an understanding. You must take a good deal of pride in the connection, as it began under your very own roof.”
Captain Wentworth looked somewhat askance at his betrothed but said nothing in protest to this construction of events.
“Indeed I may,” concluded Mary, sitting up a bit straighter. “I said so much to Mrs. Musgrove this morning. As you are sure to have the fondest of memories of your time at the Cottage, you must both come to stay with Charles and I again once you are married.”
“Indeed we will, Mary. Nothing could bring us greater pleasure. Do you not agree, Frederick?” she smiled at him with a sparkle in her eye.
“Certainly. Musgrove is an excellent companion.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Clay. “Penelope! There you are,” said Elizabeth, revealing a tinge of annoyance in her tone. “I have been waiting for you an hour at least. We have had innumerable callers, and I might have used your assistance in providing refreshment for our guests.”
“Oh, Miss Elliot! Never was there such a crush! I thought I would never succeed
in procuring the correct shade of silk for your screen, but eventually I prevailed. Do you not think it precisely the right blue?” She held up a small skein for inspection.
Elizabeth took the thread and eyed it critically. “Yes. I believe this will do. Will you ring for tea?”
“Not on our account, my dear,” cried Mrs. Musgrove. “We had best be on our way.”
“Indeed, yes,” concurred Mary, eagerly abandoning her seat. “Charles should return shortly, and I must tell him all about your news.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Clay spotted Mr. Musgrove during the course of her errands,” suggested Anne. “I believe you said he and Captain Harville had business in Milsom Street, did you not, Mary?”