Beginning, Previous Section, Section III, Next Section
Posted on Friday, 26 May 2006
That it was her room would explain why she looked ready for bed, but not why he was mistaken. Captain Wentworth turned back to the window and looked out. There were no clues there and he looked at her again. He was not sure whether he should be glad it was Anne in this room and not someone else. Anne would not think ill of him, he hoped, nor would she think he had come here by design. If he would not cross the threshold, why should he use the window?
She kept watching him in astonishment, resting her knee on the chair for support.
Yes, he must say something, apologise and explain himself, yet he could not understand his error. "Are you serious?" He began to feel some embarrassment now. This would be a grave error, if it was one. He was not yet convinced he could be this stupid.
"Do I not look as if I am in my own room?" she asked softly, indicating the unmistakably feminine objects on her dressing table.
"Yes." He swallowed and looked the other way. He must not increase his offence by inappropriate staring. "I am sorry. I must have…counted wrong?" His voice rose a little in incredulity. "Please do not think I came this way to --"
"Please keep your voice down," Anne advised.
Captain Wentworth could still not accept his mistake. He felt distressed. "Anne! Keep my voice down! And make it sound as if I am here for illicit purposes!" He was not here for any purpose. He was here by mistake. Despite having wanted to speak to her earlier, he had not come to do so now.
"You have not yet given me another reason."
"I dislike owning up to mistakes even more than making them," he said. "But I am sure I counted correctly because I was sure I was in the fifth room."
"You are." She pointed at the ceiling. "You are one up. There are more stairs than floors. The building is on a slope."
He had never even noticed and he was mortified that he had missed such a simple detail. He sank down on a chair and buried his face in his hands. The sound of feminine voices in the corridor speaking about Anne caused him to raise his head. "Oh no!"
Someone knocked on the door. "Anne? Are you still up?" It was either Louisa or Henrietta. That was difficult to make out.
Captain Wentworth shook his head vehemently. She should not let anybody in, not while he was here. If he could not even grasp that he had made a mistake, he would certainly not be able to grasp the consequences of being seen, yet he vaguely knew they would be disastrous.
Anne had no choice and she pointed at the large cupboard. When he did not move, she hissed, "get behind it!" Louisa or Henrietta would come in, whatever she replied. They would not be able to imagine why she might not want them here. She hoped he would remain hidden behind the cupboard. If they stepped in too far they would see him. A man discovered in plain sight was to be preferred over a man discovered in hiding, she supposed, but at least a man in hiding might remain undetected.
He was fascinated by a hissing and glaring Anne, and he did not move.
"Go!" she gestured and finally he went. "Yes?" she called shakily in response to the repeated knocking. The last thing she would ever have reckoned with was having to hide a man behind her cupboard.
Henrietta appeared. "Mary would like you to change rooms with her because her bed is not to her liking." She did not seem to find this a strange message at all, but she was already glancing at the dressing table to see if everything could be easily picked up.
"I cannot change rooms with Mary because of Charles. That seems evident to me," Anne said in calm bewilderment. She stuck to her position by the chair, which was thankfully midway between the door and the cupboard.
"Ah, her first room was not to her liking either, or perhaps Charles was not, and she gave their room to Louisa and me, but now she has decided her new bed is not good enough, nor is her view, so she has got it into her head that she wants to change with you, because you have the best room."
Anne thought of the captain. She would not rise in his estimation if she gave in to Mary's selfish whims. Luckily she felt no enthusiasm for being weak herself and it had very little to do with having a man behind her cupboard whom Mary was not supposed to find. "If she is in such a dissatisfied state of mind, I doubt Mary would be pleased with this room either. Tell her I am not moving. The room is perfectly situated for me and I have every intention of keeping it."
"You are saying no?" Henrietta was amazed. That Anne was capable of not bending to their will was something on which apparently nobody had counted.
"I am saying no," said Anne, strengthened by that amazement. They should not take her acquiescence for granted. "What can the view matter, if it is dark when we go to bed and it is dark when we wake? Go to bed, Henrietta. Do not play her servant. Where is Louisa?" She hoped Louisa had been sensible enough not to want to participate in the scheme.
It was not to be. "She is up and down the stairs looking out for the captain."
Anne almost glanced back at the cupboard. "Why?"
"He has gone out to walk the other captains to their house and she wants to catch him when he comes back. We are next door to him now."
She had to suppress the urge to turn her head again, but she managed to keep her eyes on Henrietta. This must be why he had climbed in. He must have had an inkling. "Go to bed. Good night. Oh and tell Mary not to try again. I shall not give in even if she comes here herself."
"All right. Good night." Henrietta closed the door behind her with a puzzled look.
"Next door to me! Dear god!" Captain Wentworth appeared from behind the cupboard. "And no lock on the door!"
"Your opinion of her…" Anne began. She was not certain he ought to suspect Louisa of such wantonness. It was a little worse than suspecting her of feigning injuries. She was not even certain she had any right to comment on his opinion. "I mean, you are doing to me exactly what you fear she will do to you."
"Unintentionally! I wish I had your calm sense, but I do not know what to do." What was he supposed to tell Louisa if he ran into her? What was he supposed to do if anyone caught him leaving this room?
"Neither do I." Anne laid down her brush and skipped towards her bed on one leg. She might be weak, but she was not the weakest in this situation.
He watched her in amazement. "What are you doing?"
"I am going to sleep." There was nothing else she could do. She did not know how to solve this either and she certainly did not want to be responsible for making the wrong choice. The consequences were far from clear.
"As if I were not here!" Such calmness astonished him. There was a man in her room and she behaved as if there was not. "And in your clothes!" Her hair might be down, but that was no nightgown she was wearing. It was the gown in which she had dined.
"What else would you have me do?" she wondered. Again she had no choice. He did not even seem to be considering that he could leave.
He sat down at the table and rested his head on his arms. "I do not know. You are not telling me to go."
Straight into Louisa's clutches? She could not. He did not appear to be at his strongest at this moment and Anne could not bring herself to give him up forever, nor to condemn him to something he had obviously been attempting to avoid. "I am not cruel."
"How did you manage on one leg and with one arm?" He had deposited her at the door and expected one of the ladies would help her. However, if she was still dressed he assumed none of them had come to help.
"I did not. That is why I must sleep like this." It was not entirely true. She would have managed, very slowly, but not anymore now that he was here. She could try to ignore his presence, but not completely.
"You could have asked somebody."
Anne looked proud. "I think they should have seen it. They will see my hair in the morning and they might offer to tie it back for me, but until then I shall not ask."
She climbed into bed and watched stealthily how he sat. He did not seem inclined to move and she wondered when he would. Although she felt surprisingly little distress about his presence, she could tell he felt differently.
He chastised himself severely. The slope was something he ought to have noticed, but his preoccupation obviously blinded him to simple details. He kept his head on his arms, as if not seeing anything could at least not bring anything new to mortify him.
The irony was painful. To avoid stupidity he had been stupid. While trying to avoid something relatively innocent, he had landed himself in a situation that was far from innocent. Regardless of his intentions, he was in a woman's bedchamber.
He ought to count himself lucky that it was Anne. It was impossible to imagine what might have ensued had he mistakenly entered Louisa's room. Anne believed it was an error. Louisa might not. He did not want to imagine what she might do.
Anne was also the last woman he would ever approach in such a manner, but it might not be flattering to reassure her of his principles by telling her so. His principles and his honour would compel him to save her reputation, but she must despise him for it. She did not look eager to be saved.
He ventured a glance, but Anne lay in her bed with her eyes closed. The image of gentleness distracted him for longer than was proper and he hid his face again. She had reacted with such gentle calmness, such perfection, that she could only be thinking very lowly of his inadequate behaviour. First the foot and now this! He did not deserve her.
He ought to leave her room, but he could not. It would be infinitely worse to leave without saying a word than to stay here, but what could he say? Simply leaving would amount to saying he did not even consider her worthy of being compromised. She would then be merely Anne, to whom everything could be done because she would not complain. So, he mused, he would have to convince her she could be compromised, while he would also have to convince her that he had not done so.
But she must trust him if she could be so calm. Stupid but harmless, he thought bitterly.
Anne could not sleep. He was not leaving. He remained sitting at the table with his head on his arms. She had dozed off for a while, but he was still here when she looked. There was no reaction when she cleared her throat and she assumed he had fallen asleep. She brought him her pillow and hoped he would find it. Then she lay down again. There was nothing more she could do.
In the morning she discovered she had slept after all. She woke because of some noise, which turned out to be Captain Wentworth groaning. "Still here?" she asked, not knowing whether she should be pleased.
"How did I come by this pillow?"
"I gave it to you."
"Thank you. My arms are sore." He stretched them out.
Their conversation was awkward, but it was at least conversation, Anne thought, and they now shared another secret. "What will you do now?" She had not run to the door and screamed, forcing him to do something he would rather not. No, they would settle this in private, without compulsion.
"It is too late," he said, avoiding an answer. "It is light. People will be up." He walked to the window, stretching his stiff limbs, and gazed out. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered.
Anne did not know what he meant, but he hurried out of the room after speaking. She hopped to the window and saw Henrietta and Louisa in the street, looking in every direction. They were at least not lying in wait indoors and he could reach his room easily. She rested her forehead against the glass and contemplated what she might have had if she had drawn people's attention to her room.
She could not have done it.
There was a knock on her door some fifteen minutes later. She had had little success in trying to tie her hair with one hand and she hoped it was somebody who had remembered she might require assistance.
It was Captain Wentworth, groomed as if he had not slept in a chair at all. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Oh. Not."
Anne looked a little flustered, although she did not know precisely why. "I tried, but…" She had no idea why he should come to collect her.
"I can braid." He looked furtively in both directions, even behind himself, but nobody was there. He stepped into the room, apparently no longer hesitant to cross the threshold.
"Yes, but…" She had not thought of having it braided today, but she supposed it would do just as well. "Er…" she said when she felt all sorts of knots and twists were applied to the braid. He did not have to spend so long on it. It would increase the chance of someone finding him here. "There is no need to turn it into a work of art."
"It is a fine knot, but I doubt it is art."
She felt up tentatively, but it felt very fixed. "Thank you. I think."
He supported her outside because breakfast was not yet ready and nobody was in the dining room. The company of another was to be preferred over excuses and explanations, which must undoubtedly be considered in private. Anne marvelled at the fact that they could do this without even referring to the instances they ought to discuss. They both knew it ought to be done, but neither began. It was a pathetic sort of relief, perhaps, that he did not ignore her completely.
"Oh, where were you?" cried Louisa, rushing towards them. "Had you gone out when we knocked?"
"I must have been fast asleep," Captain Wentworth lied. "What time was this?"
"Half an hour ago, perhaps. We were sure you would be up."
"Oh, no. I was not yet up then."
She looked disappointed to have gone out too soon, yet happy to have found him.
There was no more opportunity to speak privately to Anne anymore, for Louisa and Henrietta demanded his attention. They wanted to go down to the beach and requested with such eager earnestness that he join them that he was not certain he could refuse. He too would enjoy it, yet there was Anne.
She had withdrawn her arm, slowly but unmistakably upon the first pleas. He could not imagine she wanted to remain here all alone.
"No," she said when he drew nearer.
He looked nonplussed, for he had not yet said anything.
"I shall stay here," she said softly, feeling that a little less dependence was in order.
It occurred to him that perhaps she was afraid he would hurt her again. He would not. "It will be safe."
She lowered her eyes. "Please."
"Captain, to what are you trying to persuade Anne?" Louisa cried impatiently. It vexed her that she could not hear anything. "I heard she can be very unpersuadable."
"Anne, it will soon be time for breakfast if you do not allow us to go," added Henrietta. "We can easily leave her, Captain. There is nobody about and we shall be back very quickly."
Posted on Monday, 29 May 2006
That they could easily leave her alone on the Cobb proved a miscalculation, for while Anne was watching them descend, a gentleman appeared beside her.
"After you, madam," he said politely, assuming she was waiting for her turn to go down, positioned as she was near the top of the steps.
"No, sir," she replied with a startled look. She had not noticed his approach and she studied who addressed her now, but fortunately he was very much a gentleman and there was no danger.
"You are not going down then?"
"No, sir. I am not." She would have taken a few steps back if it had been easy to do. As it was, standing was easier than stepping and on these stones hopping was not a good idea.
"Are your companions leaving a lady up here all by herself?" He looked incredulous.
Civility forbade her to turn away to see if Louisa was being jumped down from the steps. Her ear had not caught any requests, yet it was difficult to attend to two things at once. "Er…yes," she responded after a pause.
"The steps are frightening, I grant you," the gentleman said in sympathy. "Why has the gentleman of your party not offered to assist you? Is he your husband?"
"I declined."
"Ah!" he exclaimed regretfully. "I would have assisted you had you expressed the desire to go down." His whole attitude spoke of that willingness. "Please say so if you have changed your mind. It would be my pleasure to be of service."
"That is very kind of you, sir." She smiled politely. She could not misinterpret his admiration of her looks, but it was bewildering. "But I really have no wish to go. I have a sprained ankle, you see." She hazarded a glance at the beach. They were nearing the flood line, Captain Wentworth having a lady on each arm. Louisa had at least not yet lost her footing anywhere and she was happy to notice that.
"I am excessively sorry to hear it!" cried the gentleman, as if he had caused the injury himself. "I hope it did not happen on the steps."
"Oh no. I had it before we came to Lyme." The captain turned, she saw. He stared and she stared back. She did not know why he would stare, because she was merely talking to somebody. From there he would not be able to see that this stranger admired her appearance.
"Well," said the stranger, sensing he was losing her interest. "Have a good day, madam, and all the best for your ankle."
"Thank you, sir," Anne answered, with even more politeness now that he was leaving her. "Have a good day." When she looked again, Captain Wentworth was returning to the steps, Henrietta and Louisa following him. They had to wait for the gentleman to come down and polite greetings were exchanged. She sensed, however, that he looked upon the man with suspicion.
He proved it a few seconds after reaching her. "Who was that?"
"I have no acquaintance in Lyme," she replied, wondering at his expression. She kept her voice calm and indifferent; that was how she felt about the man. "It was merely someone who thought I was waiting to go down and I told him I was not."
That satisfied him for the moment. He did not ask on, at any rate, but Anne did not think he would forget. They had more important matters to discuss than the identity of the stranger, however. Perhaps this would occur to him soon.
She thought she could, after what had happened, at least be certain that he really did want to assist her, as inexplicable as it might be. That Sophia would murder him if he did not was nonsense. No, it was more likely that Louisa would snare him if he did not. It was not very flattering to be of use only in warding Louisa off, Anne thought, yet at least Louisa was being warded off.
She contemplated his incompetence in these matters. If he could not tell what Louisa was about, he could also not discourage her. Perhaps by now he might have come to realise the necessity of distance, however, and the necessity of real distance. Proximity to Anne did not quite equal distance to Louisa.
Captain Wentworth was less pleased when the same man was seen leaving the inn while they were at breakfast, drawing all of them to the window to observe it. Everyone's curiosity was piqued when the waiter was able to tell them the gentleman's name was Mr Elliot. He was quickly suspected by Mary of being Sir Walter's heir, since the waiter's information did not say he was not.
"He may have inquired after your name in a similar manner," Captain Wentworth remarked. "Although I doubt he did, because is leaving without having approached you and he would have done so had there been any suspicion of your being his cousins."
"How could he have known we were here?" cried Mary, who was still excited. "He never saw us."
"We did," said Henrietta. "On the beach."
Mary subjected her to curious questions about his person and his manners, while Anne turned towards the captain to speak quietly. She had not exchanged names with the man, but he did not look certain of that. Why indeed should she not be familiar with her father's heir? Captain Wentworth might think she had lied to him if he did not know the truth. "There was a rift in the past. I doubt he would approach us, even if he had asked our name, but he cannot have had any reason to do so."
He would disagree. The man had lingered at the top of the steps with her. Why did she think he had done so? The man had even glanced up at her again from the beach and given such interest he could certainly have asked her name at the inn. But he was glad there had been a rift. It would certainly complicate a renewal of the acquaintance and that was a very good thing. The heir might well consider a pretty cousin an excellent choice.
If he had not given in to Louisa and Henrietta, none of it would have happened and he would not have had to feel any concern. She could not admire him for it and for a moment he wondered if she had struck up a conversation with the man because of that. But she would not. He knew she would not. She did not feel any need to punish him, or she would have reacted differently the previous evening. He was piling offence on offence because he was too afraid to speak and unreasonable jealousy was making it only worse.
After breakfast they went out for their last walk around Lyme. The Harvilles and Captain Benwick were waiting for them outside and it was agreed they would try to see as much as they could in the remaining time.
It was possible to cede Anne to Captain Benwick, since the latter came to walk by her side to continue their conversation of the previous evening, but Captain Wentworth admitted to himself that he wanted to know of what they were speaking. He had missed two of her conversations with other men recently and both men had appeared captivated.
Benwick's glowing report of Miss Elliot's excellent taste and feeling had been intriguing. He pretended not to realise he could allow her to switch arms. What if Anne had a similar opinion on Benwick's taste and feeling? They had had an animated conversation the evening before and he had not seen her have many of those.
Although she was rather reserved in her replies, Benwick's questions and comments were revealing enough. He was so helpful as to give almost a summary of her advice, trying to ascertain whether he had understood her correctly. Captain Wentworth knew instantly why Anne talked so softly and hesitantly. He was yet not enough of a gentleman to suppress his curiosity and to release her.
Yesterday evening she would have talked with more animation and openness of love and loss, perhaps of her own as well as of Benwick's. It was not likely she would speak of herself now. Indeed, she even seemed fearful that Benwick mentioned too much. The titles and feelings he spoke of were all known to Captain Wentworth, however, and a few words were enough. Although he was looking the other way on purpose, he did not miss any of them.
It was a relief when these topics were abandoned in favour of praise of the scenery, a gentle steering of the subject which was entirely Anne's doing. Captain Wentworth could be more comfortable. From now on he would only be distressed by his own thoughts and not by anything he heard. He did not stop thinking about the topic now that it was no longer discussed, however.
What had Anne done all these years? She had obviously read all those texts she had advised Benwick to read and they had helped her to forget and accept. That seemed clear. She could not be recommending them if they had not worked for her. She probably no longer loved him.
He did not think he was deserving of somebody's love after eight years, not anymore. His opinion of himself in that regard had been rather mistaken, he would say. Unless he improved, she would not love him again.
Anne had been rather embarrassed by Captain Benwick's eagerness and she was glad that a narrowing of the way brought Captain Harville by her side when there was more room again. That he first thanked her for his attentions to his friend was something she could listen to with composure, but when he began to praise Captain Wentworth as if he was not on her arm, she felt a deep blush spreading over her cheeks.
She also felt he would much rather withdraw his arm, but of course he could not abandon her here this instant. The praise was making him uncomfortable or perhaps it was the fact that Harville was praising him to her in particular. "Captain Harville, not within his hearing," she suggested very softly, realising that if he could hear this, he had also heard the previous conversation, just as she had been fearing. It was odd he had not tried to pull away then, because he had not. She pondered that. He had wanted to hear of her feelings, but why?
Captain Harville agreed with a smile and began to speak of something else.
When it was time to depart, they took their leave of the Harvilles and Captain Benwick. Anne believed she received kinder wishes from Captain Wentworth's friends than the others did. She was sorry to think she was not likely to meet them ever again. She did not suppose they were likely to go to Bath when she did. They did not appear to have a taste for such a town.
She had returned the jar to Mrs Harville, although it had served her well. It might even have undone the effects of that assault on her ankle. There had not yet been any explanation for it.
To her great relief Louisa had not asked to be jumped a single time. Anne did not know whether she had been asked not to do so or whether she had given up trying, but the result was thankfully the same. Captain Wentworth had not needed to consider releasing Anne, which for some reason she still believed he was reluctant to do. It was hardly because they were talking so pleasantly, because they were not. Since coming outside he had said very little; he had only twice addressed her to warn her about protruding stones.
"We had best go in the curricle together, Charles," Mary insisted. "To be let out of a carriage would feel very degrading to me. I should not like to be seen getting a ride from the Musgroves."
Charles looked uncomprehending, but resistance was futile. He arranged it with Captain Wentworth, who looked equally uncomprehending, but who did not say a word against it.
The captain did not know how many of the other three ladies were going to be pleased with the switch. Anne had not spoken and it turned out that Henrietta and Louisa did not know anything about it when he handed them in. "Come, let me hand you in," he had said, assisting them first. They did not object, nor did they ask where Mary was.
Anne was still rejoicing in Mary's strange wish. This would keep him in her company with nowhere to go. At Kellynch he was free again and she did not doubt he would instantly disappear if he had the chance. She rested one hand against the carriage as he helped Louisa and Henrietta in. He came for her then and she tried to read his expression, but she could not.
"I hope you are inclined to conversation," he said in a low voice. "A little."
She checked her smile. Such a simple request ought not to please her so much. "With or without listening?"
"With. How…" He paused. "Yesterday I was not very graceful handing you in."
He might be dealing with his behaviour in a chronological manner, Anne thought, starting at the beginning. She had not thought much about it yesterday, although she had noticed how he had studiously avoided to look at her afterwards. "I did not notice."
"It is not a good thing not to notice where men have their hands."
She corrected it. "I did not mind." It was under the circumstances all he had been able to do.
"The least of my offences, probably," he muttered, looking surprisingly uncertain.
"You cannot persuade me to agree to that," Anne said under her breath. She was, after all, unpersuadable.
He was rendered unable to hand her in and had to think of another method. When he got into the carriage himself, he noted that the two Musgrove girls had been assuming Mary and Anne would want a forward seat. He would not object to having to sit beside Anne.
Anne was wondering if he planned to leave her behind, since he had climbed in first. She stood looking on in a bemused manner as he held out an arm.
This method was no better, Captain Wentworth realised as he placed one of her arms around his neck, the only way he could possibly get her inside. "My judgement…" he said in resignation, wondering why on earth he had thought this might be easier. Well, it was easier and certainly pleasant; whether it was more proper was another matter.
Anne did not see anything wrong with it. She hit a knee and a shoulder, but she hardly noticed.
Posted on Thursday, 1 June 2006
"Where is Mary?" Louisa inquired, sounding rather pleased with the change that had been made. That Captain Wentworth had embraced Anne to lift her in seemed to have passed her by.
"She wanted to go in the curricle with her husband," Captain Wentworth replied. He believed Anne shared his opinion of that wish, but he would never speak too contemptuously about her sister to others, certainly not in front of her.
Henrietta groaned. "Undoubtedly for a reason we do not understand."
"Captain, I really adored Lyme," said Louisa. "But it is such a pity that you were not completely free to show us any place you wished to show us."
"On the contrary," he said amiably, feeling slightly disturbed by the implications that Anne had been hampering his movements. It had been his choice to stay by her side and he had felt free to make that choice, as free as Sophia's order would allow him. The order had not extended to staying in her room, but he had done even that. "I showed you everything."
"How romantic it must be to live here by the sea and to be able to walk on the beach every morning! Would you choose such a place as your home?"
"I cannot say," he replied, thinking that if one lived here, one would soon stop feeling enraptured by the beach. "I was not yet thinking of choosing any particular place as a home. I am still being passed around from sister to brother." He said that with half an eye on Anne, to see whether she saw the similarity of their situation.
Anne did not miss the turn of his head, but she had not yet recovered completely from how she had been lifted in. Her heart had not yet settled and she had been reprimanding herself for such foolishness. His words did not register until a few seconds after he had spoken them. He chose to be passed around, perhaps, but she had no choice.
"But you must tire of that soon," said Louisa. "You must want your own home."
He had indeed had such a wish, but it had proved to be more difficult to accomplish than he had imagined. He was more fastidious than he had claimed to be. It had seemed easy at sea, but when faced with the living creatures not all of them were to his liking. He should have remembered. "Not yet. I am perfectly comfortable being passed around." She should not be getting any ideas.
"But you cannot be! You have made a fortune and everything. Have you not thought about it at all?" Louisa pressed.
"About spending it? I have and I am very good at spending too, but I do not have to move even if I did marry at some point. My sister would not mind keeping me." He was more likely to mind than Sophia, for he might begin to feel excluded.
"Your wife could not want such a thing, not to be mistress of her own home, but to have to defer to your sister in every thing." The horrors of such a situation made Louisa shudder. Henrietta, who had real and different prospects, looked less affected.
"You assume my wife and my sister will be like that," he said in amusement, thinking as he spoke that he would prefer a wife who would not be so proud and demanding, one who was more likely to be a friend to his sister than a rival. "No one could quarrel with how my sister runs a house, I believe." He looked at Anne for her opinion and the promised conversation. Anne had stayed with Sophia. She would know.
"Nobody could quarrel with your sister," she replied, although she remembered Mrs Croft's reaction to Mary. Some people might manage.
"Of that I am not perfectly certain, being her younger brother," he said, but he was pleased with her opinion. She liked Sophia.
"After I marry I definitely want to be mistress of my own home," Louisa said in a decided tone. There was no way she would put up with an elder sister, despite their good-humoured friendship perhaps not even with Henrietta.
"And your own carriage," said Captain Wentworth, remembering Musgrove and his opinion on wives and carriages. The man must have based that opinion on his wife and sisters. This was a good moment to test that.
"Certainly!" she cried very seriously.
"I never heard my sister express such a wish." And he admitted his sister was still his sole model in these matters. There was no other couple he knew so well. There were others who might have convinced him of their mutual regard, but he was not as familiar with their ways when guests were gone.
"Is she not rather too old to want her own carriage?"
That was a silly notion, yet it intrigued him. He did not see why age mattered. And when did one become too old? "Why too old?"
"Well, is she not?" was the astonishing reply.
A gap of around twenty years might seem enormous at her age. Seven years, in his case, was no longer very much. He wondered why he was not too old to be of interest. "Too wise, certainly -- and she enjoys going out with the admiral." There was no need for her to want a carriage of her own.
"Who strikes me as rather dull."
"Mrs Croft might not like it if you thought the admiral too interesting anyway," he shot back, surprised by such outspoken criticism. He had always been very respectful himself, having been of a considerably lower rank when Sophia married. It was odd to hear a girl now speak with such insolent ignorance.
"I do not think she needs to fear anybody," said Louisa.
Captain Wentworth grew tired of such conversation, as amusing as baiting might be for a while. He turned towards Anne. "I was never told how the accident happened."
She spoke after a pause. She had been trying to discern his opinion on his sister's marriage. He did seem to think highly of it, although he might well have used it as an example to thwart Louisa, who stated her opinions and wishes all too forwardly. "We hit a post." She considered saying that this had been because the admiral had been distracted, but the poor man had already suffered some abuse just now.
"And you fell out of the carriage?"
"I flew over a hedge. I do not remember it precisely -- but your sister has not allowed him to drive since," she added reassuringly, since his eyes had widened when she spoke of flying.
"She is not much better. Do they not keep their eyes on the road? On each other? Doing their usual thing?" He would never have thought they would be that thoughtless in a gig.
"They look about," Anne said cautiously. She had no idea what he meant by their usual thing. It was not anything she had noticed.
"I do not understand how he could place Sophia in such danger!" He wondered if Anne knew about her. The other two definitely did not and he could not say too much.
"But he grabs her and keeps her safe by landing underneath her. I am not sure they even fell out."
"That is the least he could do!" he exclaimed. "If he did not always know what to respond, I would have a word with him." He was glad he had engaged Anne in some sort of conversation, but she was not yet very talkative. Perhaps that was because he had appeared to worry about Sophia and not about her, which might sound odd if she did not know about Sophia's condition. He had not been able to detect whether she did.
"When will Lady Russell be back?" Henrietta asked suddenly. "I need to have a word with her."
"In a few days," Anne said after half a glance at Captain Wentworth.
He recognised the name. How could he not? But he took care not to betray his feelings or his knowledge of the woman. The spirits that had slowly been lifting sank again when that name was mentioned. Her influence on Anne might still be great. He could not imagine she would look kindly upon Anne's staying with his sister and the moment she returned to the neighbourhood she would presumably try to get Anne away from Kellynch.
"You will then remove to her house, I take it," Henrietta continued. "Mary told me you would. She keeps complaining she must do without you."
"I do not yet know how I shall feel," Anne said with a constricted throat.
Captain Wentworth was at least glad she did not instantly say she would go. "My sister will soon be off to the admiral's family. Had she planned to take you? She would not have left you at Kellynch." He spoke harshly. He would rather she went with Sophia than to Lady Russell. If Sophia could order him around, he might have to try to return the favour. She could take Anne, although he would not step on her foot again to make that happen.
"I-I-I have no idea," said Anne with a desperate look. She no longer knew what she wanted. She would go to Lady Russell and then to Bath, while he would go to his brother and not to Bath. There had been no thought of him when these plans were made, but everything had changed now. She had no idea what Mrs Croft had planned either.
"No, she cannot have thought of leaving you half recovered and since she has been pressing for my departure…" But he really did not know what he ought to conclude. Sophia would never have left the two of them alone at Kellynch. "Perhaps the admiral could go alone. Hmm. Alone. No. He would never. He can never do anything alone."
"Why do you call him Admiral when he calls you by your name?" Louisa interrupted, not seeing any interest in plans that did not include her. "Is he not your brother?"
"He is and he is an admiral." In spite of his recent rebellion, he had always addressed him most respectfully, which the man had always considered very amusing. It would be difficult to change the habit, but he would certainly be allowed to do so if he wished.
"I would call my husband by his name," she said with arch provocation. "What does your sister call him?"
"My dear," he replied. "Always. He has such an awful name she refuses to use it."
"Awful? What is it?" Louisa cried and Henrietta looked interested as well.
"Has he told you?" he asked Anne. From her reaction to his words he assumed she knew the admiral's name. There had been only a knowing look, not interest.
"No, I read it somewhere years ago," she said, without revealing what it was. She was still dwelling on her plans for the immediate future. Before the accident she had looked forward to going to stay with Lady Russell. Her wishes had changed. She could not look forward to it anymore.
He gave her a knowing grin which drew forth some speculations from the Musgrove girls, but they received no confirmation to any of their wild guesses. They could easily look it up, like Anne had. It did not surprise him that Anne knew, but that she had read it years ago was significant. He wondered how many years ago. Had she kept up with Navy news? Had she remembered the name because it was his sister's husband's?
Predictably it began to rain and the carriage was soon stopped because Mary wanted to reclaim her seat. While Captain Wentworth, who could in all civility not refuse a switch, was being slow about leaving his seat so that she might get as wet as possible, another carriage stopped beside theirs.
"What is this?" called Admiral Croft, letting down his window. "A lady being kept standing in the rain? Ah! And it is one of our near neighbours. Have you broken down? Have you overturned?"
"I want my seat back!" Mary complained. It did not occur to her that she had given it up voluntarily and that she had no right to demand it back so imperiously.
Captain Wentworth, upon seeing who it was, now hurried out and approached the Crofts' carriage. "Can we not ride with you the rest of the way?" he asked in a low voice, seeing a perfect opportunity to escape everything. The rain was a smaller problem than the people.
"Mrs…Anne's sister and you?"
"Really! Are you full?" He supposed it was only the two of them. There should be enough room for two more.
"We could certainly shift some parcels to take you and a young lady, provided she is not too wet," the admiral stipulated.
"She is not."
"Anne, yes? I do not know how stupid you are today."
"Stupid enough to prefer sharing with you, I suppose," Captain Wentworth replied.
Mary Musgrove had suffered the insult of having to climb into the carriage herself and though she was now dry, she was not any happier. "It cannot seat five!" she cried when Captain Wentworth looked in again after transferring two trunks to the other carriage. Louisa and Henrietta already moved apart to make room for him.
He gave Mary a disturbed look and held out his hand to Anne. He half dragged her out, managing to catch her in a way that would make Louisa envious. Although she looked startled, she did not say a word. He then pushed her into the Crofts' carriage and followed. Then he sighed.
"What was that all about?" asked Mrs Croft, who had observed the graceless manoeuvres with curious interest.
"I hardly know," replied her brother, looking out of the window. He realised he had forgotten to inform any of the Musgroves what he was doing and he stuck out his head now to call to Musgrove, who was alone in his curricle.
"Mary wanted to go in the curricle, but she had forgotten it might rain," Anne said in a tone that spoke of resignation to her sister's ways -- and perhaps to the captain's as well. "And when it did, she wanted to have her seat back."
"Why are we not driving on? We are seated," said Captain Wentworth. "And I have just informed Musgrove that it is easier for us to travel with you."
"They must go first," said the admiral. "We are up for a stop in half an hour."
"Less, please," requested Mrs Croft.
"It gets worse by the day, Sophy," he remarked in a mild tone.
"Yes," she said simply. "Perhaps we could do it now and we may not have to stop anymore until Kellynch. I shall take an umbrella. You will not come?"
"I have already been six times out of sympathy," he protested. "Anne, perhaps you could go with Sophy?"
Anne looked puzzled. She would have no objections, but she had no idea what it was about. "What are you going to do?"
"I have to step out for a second to stretch my legs. Come with me and you will see." Mrs Croft and Anne left the carriage.
"What are they doing?" Captain Wentworth looked equally puzzled. He wondered belatedly whether he should have helped Anne out, although Sophia had managed well.
"Do not look." The admiral pulled him away from the window. "The ladies would not appreciate it."
"But they have disappeared behind those trees."
"The heads. I have already been six times, of which five times were for show only. I think I have been a sufficiently good husband. Frederick, ladies are built differently."
He was aware of that, yet he felt a little stupid. "Do not treat me like a fool."
"We have to stop very often because Sophy, you see, has a little less room inside now because of --"
Captain Wentworth interrupted him with a loud groan. He was quick to climb out of the carriage and disappeared on the other side of the road. He was back before the ladies were, however, and he returned to his seat with an expression that indicated he had no interest in hearing more about his sister's insides.
"Any progress?" asked Admiral Croft.
"On what precisely?"
"You asked me not to treat you like a fool." There was a shrewd smile.
"I do not know. I really do not, because I -- there they are again." He resumed his imperturbable expression and went out to help them in. Sophia gave him a dazzling smile that unnerved him. Apparently he was doing something that pleased her. He supposed Anne had not yet told her anything about his behaviour, or she would not be so pleased.
Posted on Sunday, 4 June 2006
"You are a darling to indulge me with so many stops," Mrs Croft said to her husband, moving closer than was proper. "Although I know you are simply too thrifty to stop at too many inns, too."
"Mind your brother," he replied, although he clearly did not mind anything himself.
"I am fine." Captain Wentworth looked away, although they were not yet doing anything. The implication that they would do something if he were not there was usually enough, yet he should not give them the pleasure of behaving as they had expected. "It does not bother me."
"How did you like Lyme?" Admiral Croft asked Anne.
"My dear, I already asked her that a minute ago!" said Mrs Croft.
Anne faltered a little under the attention of three people at once. They were all interested in her answer: the admiral because he had not yet asked, Mrs Croft because she had not received much of a response herself and Captain Wentworth because she supposed he was afraid she might say too much. She would not. "I said I was glad to have seen it."
Not every time had she been very interested in looking around in Lyme, but that was something she could not say. One did not go to Lyme to be preoccupied with people, especially not one who had been taken because she would appreciate nature. She took off her bonnet when drops of rain rolled into her neck and she turned half aside to hang it up.
"I hope," said Mrs Croft upon perceiving a fine sailors' knot in Anne's hair that not everyone would be capable of making. Her husband had not noticed. It was also not likely that he realised it was a rare skill. "I shall not have to ask who helped you to dress." She tried to determine what she would think if Frederick had taken her orders so literally. It was a little too difficult to believe that Frederick, who was afraid of going to girls' rooms, would be less afraid of dressing girls.
Anne suffered from embarrassment. She could predict the reaction to what she was going to say. They would disapprove of everybody, but perhaps also of her, since she had been too proud to ask for assistance. "Nobody helped me to dress."
"Nobody? Really?" Mrs Croft supposed that if Anne could with one hand make an intricate knot in her hair, she would not have any trouble dressing herself -- but to her it was clear that she had not been able to do that with one hand, perhaps not even with two.
"I did not ask for assistance and they did not offer. I could manage very slowly with one hand." She did not say that she had only changed for dinner and not for bed.
That did not go unnoticed. "I packed for you. That was not your travelling dress," Mrs Croft said, pointing at the little of it that was visible.
"I wore this to dinner," Anne answered, leaving it to them to deduce she had not changed out of it since then. "But nobody noticed that today except you."
Mrs Croft could state the obvious and worsen Anne's feelings of unimportance. It would do no good, though. She wondered what everyone had been doing if they had not noticed Anne needed help. Had they all been occupied with Frederick? But there was that knot that made her wonder. Frederick himself might not have been as busy as the others, she hoped. "Your hair looks tidy, though."
"I did have help with my hair," Anne admitted, fearing that Mrs Croft knew exactly who had helped her. She was resolved to blush less, but that was easier said than done.
"Oh yes, I see you must have had assistance. And with walking around?" She smiled, for if she was not very much mistaken, the same person had helped Anne with both. It did not quite tell her what he had done the rest of the time, but he had at least seen her hair was undone and he had fixed it, perhaps when he had come to collect her from her room. He had not called one of the other ladies then. That was interesting.
"I did." That was easier to admit, since Mrs Croft could not consider it surprising that he had done as she had asked.
"And the stairs?"
"Sophia…" Captain Wentworth gave up looking at the passing landscape, although he would not be able to recall what he had watched. "I did everything you asked of me."
"Thank you." She gave a little satisfied sigh and rested her head on the admiral's shoulder.
Anne watched them, but both closed their eyes and seemed to want to go to sleep. She glanced aside and when her eyes met Captain Wentworth's, she quickly looked away again. She focused on the pile of boxes to her right. There were piles on both seats, but the Crofts could not mind having to sit very closely together. The pile next to her forced her to sit rather closer to Captain Wentworth than she would otherwise have done, yet she could not suspect the Crofts of placing them there deliberately. There had not been time.
It was not that she disliked the proximity, she reflected as she studied the top box. After having been carried it could no longer distress her. No, it was not distress she was afraid of showing. She was afraid of looking rather more satisfied than her situation warranted, not quite the legitimate satisfaction and ease of a woman who had been married for years, but perhaps something that was equally clear to an onlooker.
She had to study the box. Although she was curious because of its small size, she really had nothing to do with the pothole in the road that caused the pile to shake. The top lid half came off and she could just stop the contents from sliding to the now muddy floor. Two finely embroidered bonnets, very pretty, yet far too small for Mrs Croft herself. Anne admired them for their prettiness and she was slow to replace the lid.
"Thank you," said Mrs Croft, who had opened an eye. "The floor is so dirty."
"Sophia, are you really going to sleep?" asked her brother. "I have such a sore neck."
"How does my staying awake make that any less?" she wondered lazily.
"Can you not do something to it?" He remembered the admiral saying that Sophia had applied her hands to his back, with apparently good results. She might be able to do something to his neck and shoulders as well and it would at least rescue him from the impossible situation of sitting beside Anne without being able to speak. They would hear if he spoke, but they would also hear if he did not.
"Why is it sore?"
"I had a bad bed and I did not sleep well."
"And you wish to have it tended to in here?" She looked puzzled. "How? Where? Goodness, Frederick! You have the most impractical ideas. Can it not wait?"
"I suppose it could, but I have nothing else to think about," he lied.
Mrs Croft gave him a look of pity. She was too helpful to let him suffer. "But we shall see what we can do when we get home. You must see how there is not much I can do about it in here, save for sitting on his lap --" she tapped the admiral's knees, "-- and you taking off all your coats, which in November is not very pleasant."
"I have no objections, Sophy," said the admiral. He would be kind, since he suspected Frederick was feeling rather alarmed by the fact that they had closed their eyes. That alarm was entirely justified, since he had been peeking and seen enough to want to be kind now. It was no great inconvenience to him to have Sophy on his knees.
She knew that. "I never thought of you, but of Frederick and Anne."
"I have no objections to anything," Anne hastened to say, although she blushed immediately when she realised it could be misconstrued as enthusiasm for his taking off all his coats.
"Come and sit beside us then, Frederick," said Mrs Croft when he unbuttoned his coat by way of an answer. She moved onto the admiral's lap.
Anne, because she had nothing else to take care of, attentively made sure the coats would not slide onto the floor. It was difficult to look across the carriage. She had said she had no objections and she did not, but it was nevertheless not a sight to which she was accustomed.
"Now you must tell me what you truly thought of Lyme, Anne," said Admiral Croft, who with similar attentiveness was making sure his wife would not slide onto the floor.
Anne did not know whether she had best look at his hands or his wife's, but her eyes were irresistibly drawn to what she felt she ought not watch. She was glad when he leant sideways enough to become visible, so she could focus on his face.
"It was very pretty." Mrs Croft had asked her the same question, but she had not received much of a response either, because of the practical matters to which they were attending at that moment. Anne wondered if any carriage she had been in had ever been stopped for such a purpose. She had not travelled enough, she supposed, although the great number of times that Mrs Croft appeared to have stopped already on this same journey was rather puzzling.
"You admire mostly in silence," Admiral Croft remarked when there was no further comment.
Anne coloured. "Yes." She admired more things in silence.
"Habit or inclination?"
She supposed she knew what he meant by habit. People rarely listened to her, so what would be the use in speaking to them too much? Although one could argue that if she never tried, they never would. "Both, perhaps."
"Did you get to meet Frederick's friends?"
"I did."
"Did he ever tell them we had a guest?" the admiral wondered. "I was under the impression he might not."
Anne looked hesitant to answer that, since he was so nearby and undoubtedly attending to their conversation. She would not speak for him and she looked from one to the other, and to Mrs Croft in between, who had turned her head a little to give her husband a look that Anne could not see.
"I said almost exactly what you asked me to say, except that your guest was little because she is not," Captain Wentworth himself said reluctantly, wincing under the pressure of his sister's hands. "Because I knew at least one of you would be annoying enough to ask."
"Because you are delightfully easy to manipulate, Frederick," said Mrs Croft. "Unlike your neck muscles. What have you been doing? Beds at inns are not as bad as that. I am sure you chose a good inn for your friends."
"I ended up sleeping in a very odd position."
"That never happens --" she began to say, but some movement from the admiral shut her up. "It must have been very odd indeed. But tonight you can sleep in a good bed. When are you planning to go to Edward's?"
"Er…Edward's?" he asked vaguely, as if he had never heard of the man. "Do not tell me he has written again!"
"He might have. We were not home either. We left a quarter of an hour after you and we are only now returning. You have been putting off the visit, but I do not assume you intend to slight him forever."
"Well, I do not know. I did not think about it when I was away. Why do you want me gone? I thought you did not even like my going to Lyme."
"Admit it, it was highly unnecessary."
"I am sure that is not the first description that comes to your mind when you think of it," Captain Wentworth said shrewdly. "I can think of some others that you would much rather use." None of them were very complimentary.
"But would you use the same?"
"Yes, I would and perhaps others you had not thought of." He would say the trip had been most enlightening as well. There was of course more to dwell on and consider, but he had made a start. In that respect it had been very necessary.
"There is hope for you yet, I believe. Dress up again or you will be cold," she said. "How did you know I could do this? I tend not to do these things in company."
"He told me you did his back." After the earlier speculations about the admiral's given name, he could not bring himself to say either Admiral or his name for some reason. He took his coats from Anne, wondering what she had been doing to them all this while. She had held them for him, although he had not given them to her.
"The nameless terror," said the admiral in amusement. "Who lied, by the way."
"You lied!" cried Captain Wentworth, feeling tricked. "Could you not point my stupidity out in private?"
"I informed Anne of it -- my lie, not your stupidity -- straight away, so it was not a real lie. Sophy can do it -- but she did not do it to me recently. I said it only to rile you. But we do like you."
"What a relief. And there was nothing wrong with your back either, I suppose." Everything had been a ruse to get him to carry Anne. He could only conclude it had worked. He was indeed delightfully easy to manipulate. Who could blame them for making use of that?
"No, it takes more than Anne to put out my back. In fact, I still maintain I could carry both Anne and Sophy."
"Hmm," said the captain disbelievingly.
"My dear, that is the sort of point that is utterly useless to prove," Mrs Croft cut in. "I would rather you did not try. I should still love you if you did not manage."
"Such unconditional devotion," he said good-humouredly. "But let me tell you, Frederick, that such a thing must be earned and that it is no matter of course, no natural consequence of a fine rank in the Navy."
"Of what are you speaking now?" Captain Wentworth said tiredly. "I did not sleep well enough to oppose you in this matter. I am sure you earned it, but I understand less and less of your having settled it at a single ball." Especially not if something had to be earned.
"What? She was a very pretty girl," said the admiral.
"If you say that one more time…"
"You will believe me?"
Posted on Wednesday, 7 June 2006
Mrs Croft began to question her brother about Captain Harville's health and his children and this conversation almost took them all the way to Kellynch. Anne soon perceived the familiar landmarks and her eyes began to glow. She had always been happy to return here and this time was no different.
By now she had a little more faith in Captain Wentworth's willingness to stay at Kellynch. His actions, though strange, had not betrayed any desire to be away from her. Anne saw it as a good point that he had preferred to be away from Louisa's silly babbling. His answers had all been good, even if he found more ease in speaking of a wife than in acquiring one. Anne had heard nothing that disqualified her for the position and her eyes glowed a little more in dwelling on it.
She, who had no reason to resent him for anything, loved him still, but nobody who had once rejected a man could hope to be asked again. She might seem mercenary now he had a fortune and her prospects had diminished. This would prevent her from putting herself forward, if she could do that at all, but she did not feel it would prevent her from accepting him.
He had not changed. His character was still the same, even if his feelings might not be. But she could never give up loving someone simply because he did not love her in return. If he could but understand the past, she thought.
"You have a very pretty view from that hill there," Admiral Croft said to Captain Wentworth.
"I know that. Edward lived near here," he said indifferently.
"I did not know you had done any exploring at the time. Anne told us it is called Lovers' Hill. I took Sophy up there recently to do all the silly young lovers things we never did, including a poetic speech and a passionate kiss."
"All such things are much better coming from an older man anyway," was Mrs Croft's opinion. "Who knows what he is saying and doing."
"So happy for you," Captain Wentworth mumbled. He did not suppose any disclosures about Lovers' Hill were random rambling, but he would rather hear about their details than be forced to reveal any of his own. He hoped their silly chitchat distracted them enough to forget about him. "But the last time you lectured me on this subject you were both fifteen years younger and you were equally convinced of perfection."
She laughed. "That is very true. I am pleased you remember."
Anne thought they had been examining the rock, since they had only been out of sight for a short while. She still thought so. "But you were only out of sight for a minute." There had not been any time for speeches or kisses.
"And you think poetic speeches cannot be delivered in less than a minute?" the admiral asked, his eyes sparkling.
She hesitated and then resolutely shook her head. "I am convinced you are only trying to elicit a reaction -- and now you wish to know whether I have ever been the recipient of poetic speeches and of which length, so I am determined not to answer."
Captain Wentworth, who had been thinking the same with regard to himself, looked a little taken aback upon hearing his own thoughts voiced by another. She said it much less suspiciously than he could.
Admiral Croft smiled at her. "Well, if I asked you directly, you would not tell me anything. Besides, you asked me not to ask you anything, did you not? And have I not obeyed?"
"You have -- not directly." Indirect probing was of course far worse, but if he thought he was being good she did not want to disappoint him. By his own standards he was probably being very considerate and good.
"What is all this interest in poetic speeches, my dear?" said Mrs Croft mildly, sensing some discomfort she would rather remove. "I hope you will not be wanting any from me."
Captain Wentworth still had not spoken to Anne in private when they arrived at Kellynch. He had had to carry her up the stairs, setting her down in front of her room because Sophia was right behind him. The admiral had lingered to instruct the staff about the luggage and the parcels, and had thus not been able to demonstrate he could carry one or more women. "I…" he took a jar from his pocket and held it out to Anne.
"She gave it to you?" Anne was incredulous. She had completely missed the exchange and she had believed the jar was safely back with Mrs Harville.
"You would not take it." Mrs Harville had told him she could easily spare it and that it would certainly speed up Anne's recovery, but that Anne had not wanted to deprive her of such a useful medicine. He had understood them both and he had put the jar in his pocket.
"Of course I would not!"
He wanted to be rid of it, since he was not bruised. He had brought it for her alone, so that she would heal sooner. "Take it. She cannot take it back now."
"What is it?" Mrs Croft inquired.
Captain Wentworth pressed it into her hand. She would make Anne accept it. Anne would soon see there was nothing else she could do, no one else who deserved it more. "Bruises." He continued on to his room, feeling rather miffed that his sister had to be there.
"Bruises?" Mrs Croft repeated, studying the jar.
"Mrs Harville lent it to me," Anne explained. "I gave it back to her this morning because she has children who have more need for it, but -- I do not know why she gave it to him now!"
Mrs Croft knew why. It was rather obvious. "And why is Frederick so stupid about a mere jar?" They were both stupid and proud about everything, she decided, and this jar illustrated that perfectly.
"I do not know," Anne said so softly that he would certainly not be able to hear her.
"In with you, young lady," Mrs Croft decided when she did not believe that. She closed the door behind her. "Tell me about Frederick."
Anne tried to examine why she did not want to and she found a seat first. She felt reluctant to speak about him and his actions. "I think he should speak to me first before I speak to you. He has not been explaining himself and I fear that if you were to explain him to me, he would again not do so. I hope that makes any sense."
"Why, how would he know I said anything? Would you behave differently after an explanation? Would he no longer see any need to say anything because you behaved differently?"
"I think so," Anne said hesitantly. "If he does not see the need now, would he see it then?"
Mrs Croft sat down as well. "Precisely what is he to explain? It is something he did in Lyme?" If he could not say much about this jar, it was reasonable to expect he was equally incapable of saying much about truly important matters.
"I cannot tell you, because you would explain it for him." His sister would be able to see why he had done it. She would confirm Anne's suspicions and Anne knew herself well enough to know that a removal of her doubts would change her behaviour somewhat. However, she felt it was wrong to progress by such means as he had employed.
"I would?" Mrs Croft mused. Of course she loved Frederick well enough to try, but she did not always understand him. "How do you know? Because I am his sister or because his actions are easily explained? In that case, how much of them have you explained yourself?"
"Some of them," Anne admitted.
"But they were not…what he should have done?" She could imagine Frederick in his present state of stupidity committing a faux pas, but there appeared to have been more than one and that was odd.
"Not really."
"But you behaved sensibly in response." That would be more or less a given for Anne. "And you never betrayed that you thought it was something he should not have done." She saw the problem, although she did not even know what had transpired precisely. Anne's character made her into her own enemy in that regard. She would like to shake the girl, but unfortunately that would be of little use.
Anne was all caution. "I suppose."
"I saw only one thing to raise my eyebrows," said Mrs Croft after she had thought about it. "I saw you behave sensibly to his dragging you from one carriage to the other, an action I could indeed excuse and I believe you could too, given the circumstances. In other circumstances it would be wholly inappropriate, however. He was fortunate to have you agree, but I doubt he stopped to ask for your opinion and you did not give it, which did not really alert him to what he was doing."
"It was not the first situation of that kind and I hope it is not unfair of me to wonder whether he knows I might have an opinion," Anne said hesitantly. "Or even other kinds of thoughts. Is it unfair?"
"It is never unfair not to want your agreement to be taken for granted. What is wrong with voicing your opinion? Perhaps I always did a little too much of that, but not doing it at all cannot be good either. You could even ask him what he is doing next time," Mrs Croft suggested.
"But what if I know?" She could not bring herself to ask such a question if she knew the answer.
"Even then. I know it is difficult. I remember the first time…" Mrs Croft began. "I was confronted with my husband's oversights, or rather his ability to focus on a single thought at the expense of all others. It was, thankfully, a very visual confrontation, so I was alerted to it much sooner in our marriage than might otherwise have been the case. But I was not the one to alert him, that was a gawking washerwoman. I had unfortunately behaved with all the calmness and sense he had been expecting, although inwardly I was feeling differently."
Anne gave her a look of recognition. She was familiar with feeling very differently from what she was showing.
"But since we were only just married I did not want him to lower his opinion of me."
She understood that too. "No."
"By gawking like a washerwoman. I wanted to be a sensible wife. I knew he meant well." She smiled fondly.
"Yes."
"I knew too, you see, but it did not occur to him at all that I might not know. He was too caught up in thinking about something else."
"I should like to ask what he was doing," Anne said in a trembling voice. "But I fear he might not have been properly dressed if it caused somebody to gawk."
"I shall not go into detail," Mrs Croft said kindly. "It makes me laugh now, but I was so torn at the time, which you must be able to imagine if you cannot even hear about it -- I had to see it."
"But you were married to him." That ought to have made it less distressing.
"Yes, that thought dictated my behaviour, but believe me, a few hours of marriage do not prepare you for everything, certainly not when there has not been any engagement to speak of. That had been my own choice and as such I felt I could not complain about the situation in which I had landed."
"How did it end?"
"One can never win. He moved away from the window, which was good, but he came to sit on the bed, which I did not think quite as good. At the time." She would have a different opinion today.
"N-N-No," Anne agreed with an impressed blush.
"Now that is exactly how my face looked, I am sure," Mrs Croft exclaimed. "I cannot remember exactly how it was settled. Embarrassment on both sides does not make for very memorable conversation."
"Frederick, I need to share something with you," Sophia said when she had found him in his room. Anne's reaction had made her think she might try the same on Frederick. Something about the story had been recognisable. "A short and highly embarrassing story."
"Oh no. Must you?"
"Yes, for it will show you that people sometimes have completely different thoughts about the same situations."
"A fact of which I am well aware," he said cautiously, because he supposed it somehow had to do with him.
"Are you? Then you will only be amused by my story, I am sure."
He was not so certain. "Can you not do my neck again in the meantime? Then at least one thing will be beneficial to me."
"How could wringing your neck be beneficial?"
"I promise to listen, if you do not wring my neck," he said with a smile.
She stood behind him. "All right. On the first morning of our marriage, I woke to find my husband standing by the window, gazing out distractedly. In shock I asked him what he was doing and he turned -- you must know he was not wearing anything and the curtains were open."
"A bit like what he does at breakfast, but then undressed? Why should this shock his wife? Or even me?"
"Oh, Frederick!" She laughed, because she had not realised that it was indeed similar to what he did during breakfast. "But he was such a proper gentleman before and so mindful of his wife maidenly eyes."
"His wife's maidenly eyes?" he asked with his eyebrows raised, grasping any opportunity to distract her from her undoubtedly moralising tale.
"Yes, indeed. Now let me go on." The fact that he did not seem shocked made it easier for her. "He turned and launched into an explanation of the thoughts which had led him to take his nightshirt off. He was not used to wearing one and he had thought he must get one for his wife's sake, but then he had realised this meant that either he must get used to wearing one or I must get used to him not wearing one -- because it had suddenly sunk in that he was stuck with me forever -- and in the morning he decided he hated it, so he had taken it off and stood by the window to reflect on whether it was fair to me to be so selfish, but since I was very sensible he did not think I could mind much."
He tried to follow that. "Oh. But you were married, so I do not see why he could not do as he pleased."
She gave him a nudge for such an ignorant comment. "To summarise, he was musing whether he was to adapt his ways to me or I was to adapt to his ways."
"Ah." He could still not see the relevance. This did not apply to him.
"It took me a while before I could speak, since he clearly had but one thing on his mind and I had about three or four. I had to tell him I was not as equal to the sight as he had assumed, that anyone outside might be more equal to the sight than he had assumed, that when I found myself equal to the sight I would of course be sensible and that he was really very good for thinking about me in such a manner." She sighed. "But I lay down and closed my eyes."
That was a very familiar response and he turned to stare. "You…" Had Anne spoken to her? She must have, otherwise Sophia could never have come up with such a story.
"I gave every appearance of being sensible and understanding, but I was not. I was relieved when he remarked in astonishment and disgust that a washerwoman was gawking at him."
"Are you telling me this on purpose, Sophia?" Captain Wentworth asked suspiciously. Before he said too much he wanted to have confirmation that Anne had indeed spoken to her.
"Of course. You might do the same and completely fail to see what she is really thinking, because she is not showing it."
She? He wondered when she had turned into someone who did not even have to be identified. "I could never be that…thoughtless. Besides, I wear something," he said to be contrary.
"He does that too now. I made him. But that is not at all the point of my story."
"Please share your point with me. I do not see it," he said stubbornly.
"You do not have to tell me what you did and you may be reassured to hear I do not know, but while you were assuming she understood you perfectly, she may have been utterly lost. Do not take acceptance for granted."
"I assure you I am the last man who would take acceptance for granted," he said with a bitterness that took him by surprise.
Sophia's movements stopped. "Er…I am…sorry." There was nothing she could do about such bitterness and she withdrew her hands. "Till dinner."