Beginning, Previous Section, Section IX, Next Section
Posted on Friday, 8 September 2006
"That is the oddest chaperone I have ever heard of," Frederick commented. He was not at all certain that the request was innocent. It was meant to keep them occupied, but not with each other.
"She is really very sweet," Anne said adoringly when they were alone again. "Look at her. She can yawn. Would you not want --"
"Whether I want one is the last thing I ought to think about or comment on under the current circumstances." He was merely engaged and he should probably not even be here. Even if he did want one, or thought her very sweet, he was too proud to admit it under the circumstances. He did not want the little one here. It was entirely her father's fault, but he felt his movements were restricted by a baby he was not even holding.
"But I will not tease you or ask if you have started on the cousins. I genuinely want to know if you agree she is adorable."
"Perhaps." Perhaps Anne holding a baby was more adorable and he frowned. Anne would be thrilled to have one, he suspected. "He is oh so innocent, leaving us with a tiny chaperone because he knows you will not lay her aside to misbehave with me. And you think he is doing you a favour by making me want to have one of my own!"
Anne shot him a demure glance. "I did not know you wanted to misbehave with me."
"I do not, but he obviously thinks I do! Or he thinks you do." And that suspicion was annoying enough. "I cannot do anything innocent with you either if you have to hold her."
"Hush, if you stop talking for a bit she may fall asleep and I can put her in her bed. I think she is still awake because he kept talking to her. Have a look in the next room," she suggested when she realised he would not enjoy sitting in patient silence. "I am not using it."
Frederick gave her a quizzical look. "Should I sleep there?"
"I do not think you would like to." There was no bed, something he would discover all too soon if he took a look.
Because of her arm, Anne had Frederick carry the sleeping baby back to the nursery. He had done as she asked, instantly, and she suspected he was rather glad their chaperone had drifted into sleep, not that he was pleased he was allowed to hold her. She did not think he had any plans; it was more likely that he wanted to prove the uselessness of leaving a baby with them because she so quickly fell asleep.
The maid was busy embroidering initials onto a baby gown. "Do they have names?" Anne asked softly, because the door to the bedchamber was ajar. It was dark in there and Sophia was likely sleeping.
"No, miss," the maid replied. "Not that I know of, at least, but they have initials. M and C. Mrs Croft asked me to embroider these onto some of their things, so that we have an easier time telling them apart."
"M and C," Anne repeated, thinking that M certainly would not be called Mary. "And which one do we have here? Is this M or C?"
"I do not think that has been decided yet."
Anne looked around for the bassinet, but there was only one and it was already full. "Where is her bed?"
"Oh, that will still be by Mrs Croft's bedside, miss. I never even knew she had been taken out. No wonder it went quiet!"
"Well…" She glanced at the door. She was not sure what to do if Sophia was sleeping. It would have been easier if it had been only Sophia, but she expected the admiral to be there as well. She was a little more scrupulous than he was about entering the rooms of sleeping people.
The maid saw her hesitation. "If she leaves it open, it is all right to go in, she said. Even if they are both there."
Anne pushed the door open with her foot and tried to locate the bassinet. It was less dark in the room than it had appeared and she saw it quickly enough. She made Frederick tuck the baby under her blanket and cast a quick, shy glance at the bed. Without the distraction of crying babies, the tired parents were able to sleep soundly and they had not noticed them at all. Fortunately there was nothing shocking to be seen.
"Did you see how they sleep?" Frederick asked when they had returned to Anne's room again.
"Yes, I saw that. Shocked?" Anne thought it had looked rather cosy. She had not looked very well, but they had not been terribly far apart. She was surprised to hear Frederick had glanced as well and that he had been impressed enough to mention it to her.
He looked very serious. "Would you not prefer that, rather than have me sleep on the floor next door?"
She gave him an equally grave and dignified look. "You can sleep wherever you like, but if you want to sleep on the floor of a dressing room, I will not join you there."
He first sat on her bed gingerly and then, when nothing terrible happened as a result, leant across it to look at something on the other side. "Oh, is it a dressing room?" he asked, but he was in fact dwelling on the fact that she had said he could sleep wherever he liked.
"It has a great many closets and tables and no bed, so indeed, a dressing room. I thought you had looked and realised what it was." Since they had been discussing his clothes earlier, she thought it would have been all too clear why she had sent him there to have a look. Perhaps he did know. She felt a little bemused as she observed how he was stretched out across her bed. He might be testing it, but he might also genuinely feel at ease here.
"These are interesting books," Frederick commented, inspecting the books by her bedside. "It is not what I should have expected you to be reading in bed."
"Why not?" Anne had not known her choices were so odd.
He spread the pile out over the bed. "Look."
She frowned at the titles. "I have no recollection of ever bringing those into my room, much less of reading them here. Where are those poetry books?"
"Which poetry books? This is all you have here."
"I am not lying. It must be the admiral's doing," she decided, although she did not yet understand how he could have made the switch. "He does not like poetry and has tried before to make me read books with a naval theme."
"And to this end he creeps into your room and replaces your books?" The man was even more insane than he had thought. How could replacing her books make Anne read them? It was unlikely that she would fail to notice until she was halfway through them.
"Quite uselessly, for I already read them years ago," Anne said with a studied air of indifference. She hoped he would not ask her why she had done so.
"And the coup de grace to my composure…" Frederick pulled another volume from behind his back. "Some guide for young husbands, with bookmarks."
"Did you think I had been reading that in bed?" Anne blinked at the title and at the idea of reading it. "Oh, Frederick! Why should I? I have never even seen it before. Where did he get it?"
He pulled the book back when she stretched out her hand. "And who inserted the bookmarks?"
"But young husbands? I am not going to be a husband. Why should I read it?" She hoped he believed her. She had never seen it before.
He peered into it. "It is your father's, according to the first page, but I doubt the bookmarks are his. The paper looks fresh. Shall we read it together? I am going to be a husband. Do you think I am young?"
"Oh, really!" Anne felt she had to exclaim at some point. She was leaning against Frederick, which was so comfortable that even the ridiculous contents of the book were palatable. "This is a very strange book. Those poor young wives! My poor mother!"
"Now," Frederick said soothingly. "There is no saying he followed this book to the letter. Although the author was quite right about the delicate sensibilities of the female. Did Lady Russell not faint?"
"But I did not. And my father was not in debt while my mother lived, so obviously this passage about our not having a head for economy is ridiculous."
"I suppose that is why the page has a bookmark." He looked at the clock and sighed. They had not yet reached the end of the book, but it was time. "I should go and change for dinner. Do you need help with your clothing?"
"I…" That was a difficult question, especially considering she thought it sprang from a genuine desire to help her. "What does the guide for the young husband advise on that subject?"
"I think the author could not possibly imagine that the young husband might wish to be helpful in this regard," said Frederick as he leafed through it. "And as such the subject is very likely not being covered. Perhaps there is something in the section on wedding nights. It seems to be the only section in which our fictional couple meets in private." He read a little. "I think there are pages missing. Our young husband enters his wife's room at the bottom of this page and he leaves the room at the top of the next. What did he do in between?"
"The page numbers are correct," Anne pointed out. She was not certain she wished to know what he had done in between.
Frederick did. "Well, I suppose we can read between the lines, because it says here he leaves his delicate gentlewoman again out of consideration. She cannot have become upset by his saying goodnight. It does not say who changed her clothes, though, and she sounds too deucedly insipid to have done that herself."
"You speak quite carelessly about her being upset," she said with a troubled look on her face. "As if it is nothing to him to upset her and then leave."
"He should do nothing and stay with her," Frederick mocked.
"Precisely."
"Fine," he replied evenly, shutting the book. "Do you still need help?"
She tried to read his expression, but she could not. She was not certain he had liked what she had blurted out. "With my hair, but you had best change first."
Frederick returned to do her hair, Anne discovered when she answered the knock on her door. She was glad she had not done anything to it yet herself, although she had not been certain he would come. He had seemed preoccupied with the end of their conversation, although he had asked very politely if she still needed help.
"You look pretty. Must I?" he asked.
She could not detect any reserve in his attitude now. Perhaps she had merely been imagining that her response had not been too his liking. "It tangles too easily otherwise."
He moved behind her. "Should I do the same knot again or try something new?"
She liked how he played with her hair, although he was probably merely trying to decide how and where to start. "Hmm. I do not really care what you make of it, as long as you take your time."
"Why?"
"Because getting my hair done is very pleasant."
"Really?" He did not really have to ask, he supposed. Her tone was very content. It was surprising. There was not much to do when it came to his hair, so he could not imagine it in the least.
"But did you know," Anne said when his hand touched her neck. "I feared you would kiss my neck in front of Mary."
Frederick gathered up her hair and studied her neck. "Why would I do that?"
"Because I did not know how far you would go in your desire to shock Mary and my neck is the next highest bare spot above my hand." As she spoke, she realised that telling him that was going to have consequences. She braced herself.
"It is…" He kissed it and observed how she wriggled. "It also seems a bit sensitive. It was good that I never had an inkling of that when we spoke to your sister."
Anne leant back against him. "Please, I hope you have exhausted your list of people to be shocked…"
"No, your father is still on it."
"Frederick!" she said in shock. "You must not do that, or anything else, in front of my father."
He forced her to stand up straight so he could start on her hair. He grinned, but decided not to point out that she had not forbidden him to do it in private. Her hair had to be arranged and if Anne could not stand steady, that would never happen. "Rest assured, my dear, I shall not. It may kill him and then your odious cousin will inherit Kellynch and turn us all out."
She frowned. "Why is my cousin odious? I did not know you knew him."
"I do not know him at all, but I heard he lusted after you, so that makes him very odious." He would readily admit to being suspicious of such men and jealous if Anne ever gave them any attention, even if he had not witnessed it himself.
"I never noticed anything of the sort!" she protested. "I know that is what the admiral thought, although he never said lusted, but --" Well, she supposed it all amounted to the same thing.
"But why should the man not lust after you?" Frederick reasoned. "It is odious, but no less understandable. You are very beautiful."
"I do not want to inspire strange things in people," Anne said fearfully.
"Too late," he said smugly.
Posted on Monday, 11 September 2006
Anne felt that her hair was being done amazingly well again. She had been wondering about the strange things she might be inspiring in Frederick, but since all it caused him to do at the moment was fix her hair in an incredibly skilled manner, or so it felt, she decided she must not worry unnecessarily.
That resolve worked to keep her calm until Frederick turned her around to examine the result of his efforts. "Yes?" she nervously asked in response to his admiring gaze.
"Dinner," he replied.
"Oh," she said in relief. "I thought you were going to…"
"I should have used a different word." He studied her relieved expression and correctly connected it to their preceding conversation. Poor Anne did not like men lusting after her. "Although I expect I have no more designs on your person than you have on mine."
Anne gasped. "I am sure you have more."
"Thank you for confirming you have at least some," he said smugly, but he expected her to walk away again rather than admit it and he grinned when she turned around indeed.
"Dinner," she decided.
"Yes, that is what I said as well." They descended together.
"Why have you been replacing the books in Anne's bedchamber?" Frederick whispered to Admiral Croft when he encountered him downstairs.
The admiral did not feel he had been transgressing in the least. "I very nicely and considerately did that while Anne was out."
"Why, I asked, not when. I guessed she must have been away, because she had no knowledge of it. And what about the bookmarks in that one book?"
"That one book!" he repeated with a chuckle. "Those were ours. Anne might have taken it seriously otherwise. We did not know whether she had ever read that one book. I found it in the library, hidden."
"What was the point of placing it in her room? Anne correctly observed she was not going to be a husband. I may be a husband, but not such a one." Neither of them had any need for such a stupid book.
"Excellent. I do not know what compelled that fellow to write such rubbish. He might have been one of my relatives, for all the insight into women he displayed. Quite obviously he never met one, yet he pretended to know how one should be married to one."
"Quite obviously the writer of the notes on the bookmarks is married to one." The notes had made more sense to him than the book.
"Or she was one herself," the admiral said shrewdly.
"It was your handwriting, not Sophia's. I know Sophia's handwriting. She writes all your letters."
"She does not write all of them, but those to her brothers are of course her duty. But what fun would there be in writing notes all by myself? Sophy was not far away. She might have been dictating me, as I have on occasion dictated her what to write to you. Did you and Anne examine it together?"
"We did."
"Excellent. I am glad she did not toss it into the fire before looking into it, although after having looked into it one may well do so. I do wonder why it was hidden and not burnt. Since he does not have a son, perhaps he hid it for himself in case he married again?" he mused.
"Why did you skip the notes for the wedding night?" Frederick inquired. That section had been the most in need of them, yet there had been none.
"Because we skipped the wedding night," was the admiral's logical answer.
"What do M and C stand for?" Anne was asking Sophia at the same time. "I heard they were M and C when we brought M or C back to your room. The admiral left her with us."
"Yes, they may be M and C, but I shall tell you what they will be precisely when James guesses, which he has not yet done." She gave him a brief look of exasperation, but she could not be exasperated with him for long.
"M is not Mary, I thought. And does he not get a say in the matter?"
"No, it is certainly not Mary," Sophia agreed. "And he did have a say in the matter. In fact, he mentioned both M and C, but he very likely does not remember doing so, because he was focusing too much on outlandish suggestions."
"Oh. We had to go into your room to put MC back in her basket. You were asleep," she explained in case Sophia had been wondering how the baby had got there.
"Thankfully."
"I am sorry we had to come in. I hope you did not mind." Anne was still not at ease about that. Sophia seemed not to care at all, but she felt she should apologise anyhow.
"Oh, why? Do not worry about it," Sophia assured her. "I half noticed James come back, but I never asked what he had done with the baby. I could not imagine he would not have been a good father."
"I think when your daughters grow up they may think him rather too good," Anne said dryly. "He is too good at chaperoning. Was he much in need of it himself when he was young?"
Sophia raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Anne! You have met his family. What do you really think?"
His family had not had any need for it. Did that mean anything? "But he has met Frederick's family. What does he really think?"
Sophia chuckled at her. "Well, my dear. Let that be your answer."
"I do not understand that answer," Anne complained, but she was not going to receive an explanation.
Frederick had stood staring for a few moments, but he had decided that pursuing this subject was highly dangerous. He searched for another thing to talk about. "I see. And why have you not yet named the poor little creatures?"
"Naming is a matter of great delicacy."
"Delicacy. Something neither of you care about in the least."
"We do. Perhaps you fail to realise that less delicate people would have knocked you over the head some time ago."
"Thank you for your restraint. But what of the naming matter?"
There was a sigh. "Sophia has always openly mocked the fact that my brothers and I have double names, yet now she is not certain whether I prefer to give my daughters double names to follow in this good family tradition and she has not mentioned double names at all anymore, not even as a joke. Perhaps she thinks she would offend me and I…" He sighed again. He did not want to do anything that Sophy could mock.
"Are you telling me you are sometimes not in agreement?" Frederick recalled a conversation at breakfast. "But I thought you wanted to name them after ships."
"No, not really, but I cannot come up with any other names."
Frederick felt very helpful. "Why do you not provide the second name, after a ship, and Sophia provides the first one, something normal?"
"Your sister thinks ships are ships and girls are girls, but that while a ship may carry a girl's name, the reverse is impossible."
"Well, there is something to be said for that point of view…" He rubbed his nose in thought. There were perhaps other sources of names. "We had a mother once. Did you or did your father come by you by other means, given your family's…er…outlook on procreation?"
"Outlook on women. That is something else. My father still has five sons." His father must not have had very much against procreation.
"And are they all his?"
"Frederick! Of course they are all his. Apart from some similarities in appearance, there are -- or there used to be -- similarities in behaviour."
"That was not the impression we received from Sophia."
"They were afraid of Sophy, so they would not behave as sensibly to her as they would to me." He shrugged. "We shall see. I have written to my father about his granddaughters. I have not promised we shall visit as soon as we can, so their shock may not be too great."
"But did you have a mother?"
"Yes, I had a mother." The admiral had vague recollections of having had a mother once upon a time, although for the greater part of his life he had not had one. "I came about in the normal way, I suppose. Why?"
"And your mother had a name, I presume."
"Mama." He shamefully realised that he could not instantly remember her name.
"No, that was mine!" Frederick shot back.
The admiral cringed when his memory failed him. "Do you think Sophia would know my mother's name? She would know such things, would she not?"
"Does it matter? If you do not remember the woman's name at all, it would not be very appropriate to name a daughter after her, would it? Not very sincere."
"Do we not have wives to remember these things for us?" He gave Sophia a distressed look, but she was talking to the others.
"I am not yet married," Frederick could safely say. He was also glad that, if asked, he could produce his late mother's name without hesitation. "But I doubt I should forget my mother's name after the wedding ceremony. Why are you distressed about Sophia's reaction? You have not forgotten our mother's name, have you?"
"I cannot have, for I never even knew it. No, Sophia thinks I have a brain -- or a heart -- wherever one stores this information." Admiral Croft held up his finger admonishingly when he realised he was setting himself up. "If you dare to…"
Frederick was gentlemanly enough to withdraw. He felt very good about himself. "I think I shall talk to Edward…"
A summons to dinner, however, interrupted everyone's conversation and plans. Anne was as thrilled to be able to walk in on Frederick's arm as he was to lead her in and she did not even care that as before she was still one of the last ones to go in. This was different. She did not even notice she was not responding to questions.
Sophia did, since she had asked them. "Anne?"
Anne noticed only because her neighbour nudged her. "Oh? Yes? I beg your pardon. Were you speaking to me?" She had only been dwelling on how different it was to be a wife at the dinner table, although she was not even married yet. She hoped nobody would ask her what she had been thinking. Her pleasures were so simple.
"I wanted to know if you could lean this way for a second."
"Why, may the rest of us not hear your conversation?" Frederick asked. He knew he was very likely not the subject of everyone's private conversations, but he could not help fearing it.
"It is of no interest to you, only to me."
Anne leant towards her. "How can I help you?"
"How long will it take for me to regain my former figure?" Sophia whispered. She had had her babies. Everything should have returned to normal now, but it had not.
"Er…" Anne had not expected such a question and she could only stare back without speaking. She had no idea.
"Am I too vain?"
Sophia had never struck her as vain, so that the question was almost laughable. "No, no. But it is different for everybody, I think. Mrs Musgrove --" She stopped when Sophia held up a hand to silence her.
"The horrors. Never mind. I must have patience."
"I am sorry. I do not know everything," Anne said with genuine regret.
"That is fine, Anne," Sophia assured her. She turned to her other sister-in-law. "Amelia?"
"Why did we place all the ladies on the same end of the table?" Admiral Croft wondered when there was renewed whispering. "Now they will be whispering about female subjects during the entire meal."
"Your alternative was to place all Wentworths on that end," said Edward. "And all ladies you are not married to on your end, but when you stayed with us you always begged me not place too many ladies near you, so I do not see why you are now dissatisfied."
"You must be the only one who does not fear they are whispering about you. Frederick, change places with Anne," the admiral ordered.
Posted on Thursday, 14 September 2006
"Who was the subject?" asked Admiral Croft as he leant towards Anne.
"Sophia herself."
"And why does she have to discuss herself in whispers? Did it concern me in any way?"
Anne was conscious of the three men looking at her expectantly, but she did not want to reveal Sophia's secrets, especially since Sophia might be able to hear them discuss her. She was still whispering with Amelia, but that did not mean they could not hear anything else. Yet the admiral looked as if he could not bear not to know. "I…"
"There is no need to tell him," Edward said reassuringly. "Sophia can speak for herself if she needs to. If you knew what Sophia is capable of writing to us…"
"To me," Frederick interrupted.
"I know what she wrote when Frederick was staying with you. She let me read it," Anne revealed. "Because I had asked her to write. I do not think she meant to share quite so much with Frederick, but she was upset."
"Frederick did not even understand it." This amused Edward still.
"I asked Sophia to write that we were going to Bath. Whatever else she included was only there to fill up the paper," Anne said with a shrug. "I really do not care if Frederick understood it."
Perhaps Anne had also been too preoccupied to understand or care. They made Edward laugh. "But he does."
"No, he does not." Frederick felt compelled to speak for himself. He liked that Anne had told Sophia to write and that his sister had obeyed. That was more important to him than understanding which assumptions he should make with regard to vague references to activities.
"Anne…"
Anne was startled by Admiral Croft taking her hand and pulling at it, as if he had failed to attract her attention in other ways. Evidently he wished her to lean his way. She knew what he wanted to ask, but she did not yet know whether he was going to receive an answer. "Yes?" she asked softly.
"Can you really not tell me?"
She wanted to reassure him. "It is really nothing important, merely something she thought I might know, but I do not."
"But I also take an interest in female matters," he tried. "I may know even more than you. I very likely began to take an interest in them before you did. I think when you were twelve or thereabouts."
She gave him a little guffaw. "Well then." She got up from her chair to whisper in his ear, since it was no business of either Frederick's or Edward's. "She wants her figure back and asked me how long that would take, but I do not know."
"Thank you, Anne. See that it does concern me?"
"You are married to it, I suppose, but she was only curious, not worried." She sat down again.
After dinner Anne discovered that Amelia was fond of music when the latter wondered if there was a music room. The last time Anne had played had been before she moved to Mary's house and after her return her broken arm had prevented it. She had not heard any music here in the meantime either, since Sophia seemed not to play at all.
"No," Sophia said when the two younger ladies seated themselves at the instrument and asked about her. "They tried to make me learn, but it was useless. Apparently! Edward and Frederick always considered themselves very superior to me in this regard. As I am superior in everything else, it does not matter."
"May we play?" Anne asked, although she would still only be able to turn the pages with her one usable hand.
"Certainly. Play all you like. I am needed upstairs. You will only have the boys to listen to you. Edward and Frederick, that is. I do not know about James."
They shrugged, since they would play and listen primarily for their own amusement. The gentlemen were much obliged to them for the entertainment nevertheless. Frederick wished Anne could play again, since he was certain she would enjoy it, but he amused her well enough by playing a few tunes himself.
"I should never pay for music, but if I may listen for free I can stand it very well for a while," Admiral Croft was good-humoured enough to remark about their efforts.
The young ladies were a little astonished and Edward felt he had to explain. "As utterly unbelievable as it sounds, he would truly hear no difference between your performance and that of Sophia's, if someone were foolish enough to allow her to come near the instrument."
"Truly," the admiral grinned. He had enough self-knowledge not to be offended.
"Love is blind and deaf," said Frederick. He gave a demonstration of his sister's skills. "She used to play like this! I cannot imagine she improved."
Anne pressed her hands to her ears at the violence with which random keys were attacked. Although Sophia had said she did not play anymore, she could not believe anybody could be as untalented as this. They had tried to make her learn and that must have had must have left some trace.
"Who would marry a woman for her musical abilities?" the admiral wondered. "If she breaks her arm, she loses her charm." He laughed at his own unintentional joke.
Frederick gagged, but Anne smiled.
"I really do not hear the difference. I am sorry," the admiral said, although he was not. "Fortunately Sophy has abilities that suit my preferences much better."
"The amazing ability never to disapprove of anything he does," Frederick said to Anne in a low voice. He was glad Sophia was not here to laugh at the joke her husband had just made. She would have. Even Anne had smiled.
She cleared her throat meaningfully and lowered her eyes to his hip for a second. "You may wish for such a wife, sir, when the strength of your feelings makes you act rather than speak."
He gave her an admiring look. "I so wish to act." He laid his hand on her leg, since it was hidden from view by the piano.
"Edward," said the admiral. "Do you think you could stand that?" He waved at the smiling couple. They amused him.
Edward shrugged. "You forget that I have seen it before, although it was some time ago. It was worse then."
"Worse! Well, good night. I am going to retire for the night. I shall have enough to do before I am able to sleep."
Frederick had agreed with Anne that he was to get a licence and go to Bath the next morning to speak to Sir Walter. Edward had explained where one might purchase licenses, since Frederick had no idea. His brother had not found fault with his wanting a licence. An argument in his favour could have been that the father of the bride would undoubtedly condemn a vulgar public wedding, but Frederick was glad that he had not had to bring that up.
Frederick had not mentioned his nightly excursion again and Anne did not know what he would do. Because Edward and Amelia were accompanying them upstairs there was no opportunity to ask him about it. They had to say goodnight in a proper manner, even if she might not see him the next morning.
Anne considered getting up early to wave goodbye, but he had not told her at what time he was leaving, only that it would be early. After thinking about it, she supposed this lack of further information meant he intended to come to her room to tell her more. He would not leave without a satisfactory goodbye.
Frederick was unreasonably excited by his mission and when he pressed his back against the wall beside Anne's door, he felt smug and proud, because the only thing he still needed to do was opening the door soundlessly and stepping in. The rest was all done. He had crawled and crept and amused himself very well by doing so.
"Anne!" he whispered triumphantly when he had opened her door and closed it again. The room was completely dark and he saw nothing. "Where are you? I did it! Even though he is keeping watch with Sophia!" At some point when he was changing into dark clothes, the admiral had started his night watch and he had brought his entire family along. It had been annoying, but victory over them was so much sweeter now. He had evaded eight eyes.
"I am here," she informed him.
"Where?"
"Here. I did not think it would be wise if it was too light in here if you opened the door -- if you were coming at all." But she did not sound as if she had wondered about that very much.
"You are so clever," Frederick said in admiration.
"I believe the word is insane." Anne got off her bed and walked towards him, her hands stretched out in front of her.
He embraced her when she reached him. "Good night. I shall see you when I come back from Bath, which I hope will be very soon, because -- oh, what are you wearing?" It felt differently.
"My nightgown. I told you I have one."
"Yes," he answered as he explored it a little more. "Yes, you told me. It is surprisingly…thin."
"No, it is not," Anne said with a calmness that amazed her, given the curious hands that travelled up and down her sides. "Which you would feel if you concentrated on feeling the fabric. But it is surprisingly one layer only and that might account for the difference."
"Bah, it gives a man ideas." He released her and clasped his hands behind his back. "Good night."
She thought she had best not ask about his ideas. "Good night."
"Oh, kiss me, Anne? I cannot use my hands anymore."
Anne giggled at him and obliged him with a goodnight kiss. "Please come back soon."
"Anne?" asked Admiral Croft when Frederick opened the door. He was a few paces away.
"No, Frederick," he said smugly. "You might as well not keep watch, because you never saw me slip past you. I could have stayed here all night and you would have been none the wiser!"
"Er…" Sophia joined in. Both of them were carrying a baby. "Why did you not? Why go here with the sole purpose of informing us you went here?"
"Er…" Frederick did not see why she did not understand. He had derived much enjoyment from crawling over the dark floor and hiding under hall tables.
"And what have you done to Anne?" she wondered.
"Nothing," Anne spoke up from the darkness of the room. She was not certain she ought to step forward in her nightgown, although on second thought Admiral Croft would not care at all. "I am here."
"Do you understand his motives?"
"I think so."
"Well, Frederick," said his sister with the intention to provoke him. "This is rather a transparent scheme. You hoped to convince James you have no intentions so you have free access to Anne next time, but really, I think I should share with Anne again."
"How suspicious you are, Sophia!" he exclaimed. "Anne, will you not tell her you wanted me to go away?"
"He never thought of staying," Anne said obediently. "And he very nicely kept his hands behind his back." Eventually, she added to herself, but he knew when to do so.
"Let me have a word with you, Anne," Sophia decided. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot. There was still a baby in her arms. "Why is it so dark in here? I cannot see a thing."
"I did not want to spoil Frederick's scheme by letting the light alerting you to his arrival if it spilled into the corridor."
"You are a silly girl. Now lead me to the bed or a chair, please, so I can sit down. I would much rather share with James, so I shall not stay here, but I do have to tell you a few things I hope you will be brave enough to say to Frederick when the occasion calls for it."
"What did you have to say to Anne?" asked the admiral, who was glad to see Sophia back. "Frederick, by the way, could not care less if you stayed there. He did not have plans. He told me so about six times."
"I told Anne what to do if he develops any plans on the spot," Sophia said in satisfaction. "You think all of us girls speak our minds, do you not, having three who do? But I think Anne would put up with much more than I would."
"You have never had to put up with all that much," he believed.
"Which is very fortunate and very much beside the point, because it will be of no use to Anne." She tucked number one in and checked on number two and then climbed into bed. "Are you happy I came back?"
"I suspected your maternal instincts at least would bring you back. I cannot feed the babies."
His tone aroused her pity. "My maternal instincts alone? You poor thing!"
Posted on Sunday, 17 September 2006
Anne was woken by a hand gently shaking her shoulder. It was Frederick and he was quite near. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing in my bed?" She wondered if she now had to put Sophia's advice to good use or if she had to wait until he acted. It had sounded easy in theory, but in practice there was always so much room for doubt.
"I am not quite in it. I did not dare to give you such a fright. But I am on it."
Anne decided not to tell him anything yet. Perhaps he could explain himself first, because she could not make out why he was here after he had said he would not stay. And he did not want to give her a fright. That was kind of him, but he had done so anyhow. "On it, in it, for which purpose? What time is it?"
"Early morning."
That was a relief. "I thought you were going to Bath." She was pleased he was stopping by first for another goodbye. Last night it had indeed been too brief.
He pressed her down with one hand when she wanted to sit up. "I wanted to say goodbye to you in a way that allowed you to stay in bed and sleep on, because it is still very early. Is that not clever? I took off my boots, in case you were wondering, but considering how you let people spit on your bed, my boots cannot make much of a difference."
Anne could not argue with anything. The only thing that could be said against such a method was that it was so agreeable that there was almost no goodbye at all.
"Has Frederick left?" Sophia asked at the breakfast table.
Anne nodded. "Yes, early this morning." She hoped she would not be pressed to reveal anything else. That would prove all too clearly that Sophia's words of caution had been necessary after all.
"He could not wait," Edward remarked.
She felt the fittingness of that remark keenly and bent her head to hide her blush. He could and at the same time he could not. She had needed to remind Frederick gently of his plans for the day, because coming into her room to say goodbye had been causing some delay -- to which, she had to admit, she had contributed in an equal manner. This time she had not accepted a kiss and mutely let him go.
"Why should he wait?" Admiral Croft wondered. He thought he had perceived a blush on Anne's face and thought she might prefer to be left alone. "He knows the girl. He has the money. That is more than could be said for me."
"You knew the girl!" Sophia protested.
"Somewhat."
"Would you not need wedding clothes, Anne?" Sophia thought her brother might return rather quickly and then not leave any time for Anne to prepare herself. If he could indeed not wait, he would want to be wed as soon as possible. She did not think Anne would mind very much, but it was best to ask.
"I have something to wear. It does not have to be new."
Such determination amused the others. "That is the proper spirit," the admiral declared. "You want to be married for your character. I was married for my character too."
"But you say you married Sophia because she was pretty. How does that fit?" Anne wondered. She still did not think that had been his only reason to marry her.
"It does not. But whatever her character, she was quite a siren."
Anne glanced incredulously at Sophia. "A siren?" She was not exactly sure what was meant, but the word had never struck her as very complimentary.
"Not really," Sophia replied with a calm shrug. "But James thought any girl with a full dance card must be a siren."
"Of course, especially if she left them stranded."
"Your fault."
Now that Edward was there to go riding with Admiral Croft, Anne did not have to take him out into the gig anymore. If he could be outside and be active at the same time, he would prefer that. Sitting beside someone in the gig was only a last resort. She had grown quite fond of taking the gig out, however, and decided to go alone. Sophia was going to sleep, Amelia was unwell and there was nobody to go with her.
She wondered if she had handled Frederick's departure sensibly. It was ironic that he had appeared merely hours after Sophia had told her what to do if he came, yet he had not at all done what his sister had feared he might do. Why did everyone think he might forget himself? Although she was grateful for Sophia's concern and she realised that she was indeed likely to let him do whatever he did, he had not done anything he had not done already once before.
And why did everyone think she might not like some of it? It was quite vexing.
Mary had done her work, Anne noticed. Henrietta and Louisa had been told. They waved at her when she mistakenly took a lane close to Uppercross. She had to drive towards them for a chat, although she did so without enthusiasm. Little good could come out of such a conversation.
"We heard you are engaged to Captain Wentworth," Louisa began without any delicacy.
"Yes, I am." Anne did not expect to be congratulated, but whether it happened or not would not affect her happiness in any way.
"To Captain Wentworth!"
"Yes." Yes, it was absolutely shocking indeed.
"How is that possible?"
"Neither of us were married yet," Anne said gravely.
They did not consider that a very good answer. "Of course you are close to thirty, but his age is no reason to marry you."
She remained calm. "I consider his being close to my age a very good reason to marry me, actually. A very young man would not suit me very well, I think." And a very young woman would not suit him.
"So Captain Wentworth travelled back with his brother and his entire family to propose to you? Or have you been engaged for longer?"
With many younger brothers and sisters Henrietta and Louisa ought to have seen that the twins were very young, Anne thought, and that if they were truly Mr Wentworth's, they must have been delivered in the carriage on his way from Shropshire. "Those infants were not Mr Wentworth's," she said quietly, avoiding any answer about engagements.
This did not have the effect she had envisaged. The Misses Musgrove did not conclude what would have been logical, that they were Mrs Croft's, but for some unfathomable reason they deduced the babies were Captain Wentworth's. "Oh, the captain's," Louisa said in awe and Henrietta did nothing that indicated she disagreed.
Anne was at a loss for words. She could merely stare. If they were not Mr Wentworth's, they must be his brother's indeed. There was no other married couple in the house than Mr and Mrs Wentworth.
"Are you their mother?" Louisa asked, her tone full of hostility.
Anne's voice sounded strange and disbelieving when she spoke. "Have you paid so little attention to me in the past months that you could believe I had been carrying twins all this while?"
Louisa would not yet give in. "Well, whose are they if they are not yours? You said you were engaged to him."
"They belong to someone else you have not paid any attention to," she said coolly, feeling unable not to lecture. "Which means they are not Captain Wentworth's."
"Oh, I am sorry to have poached on your territory, Miss Elliot," Louisa said in a huff. "And paid some attention to him. He is welcome to you. Such a man is nothing for me. Come, Henrietta."
"Thank you." Anne was not happy with how their conversation ended, but there was nothing she could do if they did not want to see sense.
On her way back, Anne called at Kellynch Lodge again to see if Lady Russell had recovered and perhaps to share this strange encounter with her.
"Is your suitor not with you?" asked Lady Russell, who looked rather relieved she would not have to face him again. Who knew what else he had hidden?
"No, he went away to get a licence and to inform my father. I am still sorry."
"Is he?"
"Perhaps he was sorry that the proof of his feelings was in such a place." She did not think he was particularly sorry for having or showing these feelings.
"But he put it there himself!"
"Because nobody would ever get to see it except his wife, who must needs be called Anne." It occurred to her that he had only shown it to Annes, as far as she knew, but Lady Russell would not consider that an adequate explanation as to why she had been subjected to the sight. Besides, Frederick would likely not know that Lady Russell was called Anne.
"Assuming he would show it to her."
"His wife," Anne said nonplussed. "Would see it?" She did not understand how a wife might never discover it.
"That depends on which type of wife she is."
"But such a sight cannot be hidden from her forever! If they share a room!" Even if he did not intend to show it immediately, it must become out by accident at some point. They could not always remain strangers.
"If."
"They will." Waking up with Frederick draped across her blankets had been so agreeable that Anne was growing more confident in her wish to share. She had not had a good idea of it before. Although she had seen some of the Crofts' behaviour, she did not truly know if they behaved in the same manner when she was not there.
"I did not doubt that after his display," Lady Russell said dryly. "It is of course very fortunate that it says Anne and that you are Anne. I cannot really see it as a proof of his constancy, but merely as a proof of his having been quite thoughtless in his younger days."
"The two are not mutually exclusive." One could be constant as well as thoughtless. He was still constant and he was still occasionally thoughtless, too.
Sensing that Anne's mind was firmly made up about the captain, Lady Russell changed the subject. "Mary was here this morning. She came to tell me you were engaged. She was miffed to find I already knew about it."
"Yes. I just encountered Henrietta and Louisa. I suppose Mary told them as well. Louisa was not pleased. She also thought Sophia's babies were Frederick's -- and mine. I could not follow her logic." She supposed she wanted to hear that Lady Russell also could not.
Lady Russell tried to understand why someone could think the babies were Anne's, but after some fruitless attempts she gave up. It was impossible.
"He has not been back long enough for that," Anne said seriously. "And he would have married me before it ever came to that sort of thing. He had the opportunity and did not take it." He had had that opportunity at least four times if she counted properly.
"The opportunity to marry you?" Lady Russell asked in a hopeful voice. She preferred that over another type of opportunity, but when it came to sailors one had best not set one's hopes too high. Whatever Anne might say in their favour, she could not be convinced that all were good.
"No, to --" Anne waved with a blush. "I am in love with Sophia's babies. I would almost have abused the opportunity if I knew how."
"Anne!" Lady Russell was shocked.
"Almost, I said. I meant to emphasise how truly adorable they are." Perhaps she had indeed phrased her admiration a little too scandalously and she cringed.
"Should I be glad that you do not know how?"
"I know how, but I do not know how to abuse opportunities. I think you are a little mistaken about the nature of men. Sometimes some might have to be persuaded." It might change after they were married, but at present Frederick would hardly say yes if she asked him for a child -- and she would hardly ask him, since she had not needed Sophia to tell her he might break his neck on his way to Bath and leave her quite ruined, although Sophia had stressed she would of course be allowed to stay.
Lady Russell gave her a disbelieving look. Anne, who said such a thing!
Posted on Wednesday, 20 September 2006
Frederick, now in possession of a marriage licence, attempted to call on Sir Walter Elliot to make his intentions known. It was easier to obtain a licence than an audience with a baronet, although the former had to be acquired first so that it might be employed to convince the baronet that resistance was futile. He had furthermore made some financial arrangements, to have done all the easy and tedious things first.
When he arrived at the Elliot residence he was only able to leave his card, however, since Sir Walter was said to be out. He felt he did not have the time forever and after a meal in a nearby establishment he tried again, determined that it would be his last try. This was Bath; people would notice and he had too much pride to beg on his knees anyhow.
This time Sir Walter was said not to be receiving any visitors. He was a very important man, Frederick agreed silently, with too much to do to waste time on insignificant callers. But such arrogance was in his favour. Nobody could ever say he had never tried and Sir Walter had denied himself the opportunity to be troublesome.
"Then I shall have no other option but to elope with his daughter, eh?" Frederick said to the manservant. "It saves us much time and trouble, I am sure."
"Perhaps Sir Walter --" the man began, looking alarmed now. It was likely not every day that gentlemen callers announced impending elopements that involved Sir Walter's daughters.
"Too late. Tell him Mrs Wentworth will write to him. You will not forget the name; it is on my card." It was a very fine card, too, if Sir Walter condescended to examine it. He had ordered a similar type for Anne, but it was not ready yet.
"But Sir Walter --"
"-- will receive a letter from Mrs Wentworth. I bid you a good day." Now that he had come this far he did not want to spoil his own amusement by being received. Sir Walter would have to pay for his arrogance.
That had been easy, he thought, although Anne might not be pleased with it. Nevertheless, she had more reasons to be displeased with her father and his conceited unavailability.
Frederick returned to Kellynch in good spirits. He had been thinking about it, but nobody could expect him to have begged Sir Walter several times to see him. Captains did not lower themselves and rich captains even less so.
"I left my card," he said to Anne, who looked as happy to see him as he was to see her. She would not release him, but that suited him perfectly. "Whether he remembered my name or not, he would not see me. Perhaps his footman passed on the message that I would elope with his daughter now."
She gasped. "You would?"
"To the Kellynch church, not beyond," he reassured her. "I cannot be made to wait forever until he feels inclined to give me a minute of his time. I have better things to do." And he proceeded to do one of them.
"Yes," Anne sighed. She selfishly supposed it was for the best. "You do. I am glad you returned instantly. I missed you so and I never knew where and when you would appear -- night or day, door or window, everything is possible with you."
He responded to this gentle teasing by kissing her neck and was delighted that such a simple act could make her wriggle.
"Frederick!" Anne said breathlessly. "Stop exploiting my weaknesses."
"Perhaps you should react by exploiting mine?" he suggested, although he did not yet know where they were. "In the spirit of fairness…"
"How…where…what…" She looked at him uncertainly. "But not in the drawing room, surely."
"I thought the drawing room was for drawing reactions," he teased.
"People might walk in."
"They might." But he did not care. There was nothing to see but an affectionate couple on the brink of matrimony. "Try it, Anne."
"What have you been doing in my absence?" Frederick asked after a while.
"Oh…" Anne tried to remember. "Not a great deal. I stayed inside for most of the time because I met with such oddities outside on the first day." She had had no desire to run into anyone again and to be subjected to their skewed logic.
"Who or what?"
"Apparently Henrietta and Louisa had been assuming the babies were your brother's and when I said they were not, they assumed they were yours." She raised her eyebrows to convey how puzzled she was. By now, however, she supposed they must have heard the truth. Charles knew; he had even had two dead rabbits delivered.
"Mine!" Frederick was astonished. "Did the admiral have them flogged?" He could only imagine that such an assumption would come as an insult. After all, they had his hair! Nobody could see it, but they still had his hair.
There was that, but Anne had also kept it from him for another reason. "I never told him because he might make teasing comments about us." She supposed they would have been completely justified, given how she was very nearly sitting in his lap and not on the sofa beside him.
"And they? Who did they think was the mother of…my children?" He tried to imagine coming here with baby twins and no mother. It was impossible.
"They thought I was. They said they thought I was. I cannot imagine that anyone would genuinely think so." Her figure had not changed at all in the past months. Nobody could possibly think she had been carrying twins, even if they could not think who had done so instead and even if they could imagine her having behaved in such a manner.
"Not yet." He could imagine it in the future.
"Precisely. Yet if we had used any of our opportunities for that purpose I should still be carrying the child at this point."
Frederick stared. "Opportunities," he echoed weakly.
"Yes, I counted at least four."
"I never saw those occasions as opportunities, yet you have been counting them! Are you very sorry they were not used for that purpose? Do you so desperately wish for some of your own?" He thought she would like some of her own, but not at any cost.
"I counted them in retrospect," Anne defended herself.
"That was only half an answer."
"I know. I doubt you would have obliged me if I had asked for it," she mused.
Frederick gulped. "I am glad you did not. I cannot imagine what my response would have been."
"I imagine it would have been no. Do not tell me it would have been yes." She felt her heart in agitation. At least her voice was still normal. She could not imagine she had been wrong.
He gave her a doubtful look. There were too many things to consider to be able to make such a clear statement. "Something in between."
"How is that possible? Half a child?" She had to admit to liking Frederick's hesitation. She had not wanted him to be uninterested, but not too eager either.
"Not now, but later, which is neither a plain yes nor a plain no." He tried to read her mind and especially that small smile. "Why did you want a no? Tell me at least that I did not make financial provisions for them in vain."
Anne beamed. "Did you? In Bath?" That such arrangements might have to be made had not occurred to her yet, she realised in shame. It was very good that he had had such foresight.
He gave her a kiss. "Of course, so I must have counted on it occurring some day, I suppose. I did not really have a date in mind."
"I am glad," she said in relief. "If you do not mind very much, I do not think it ought to be planned. I may not be in the mood on the chosen date, you see."
"Many men would be appalled to hear you say such a thing," he commented as if she had said something very strange. He pulled her a little closer to signal he did not mind. "But I wonder if the opposite is also possible?"
"I think such a thing might be possible after we are married," Anne said seriously. "Until then I shall remember that we are not married and that we are in the drawing room." She hoped she could remember that.
"But if those obstacles are removed?" he asked with some anxiety.
"Then I suppose you may do as you please."
The idea of a passively waiting Anne was unnerving. "I hope someone told you something. Such as Sophia. Her husband was very thorough, but at the time I never realised he left out the beginning."
"The beginning," Anne repeated uncertainly. "Where did he begin instead?"
"In bed. I would begin here. Well, not here, but it does begin here." Suppose she had asked him now, he would have to remove her from here in a manner she trusted.
She bit back some flippant remarks and took a deep breath, but her voice was still unsteady. "You cannot fathom how you would get from here to your bed?"
"Anne…" he pleaded.
It struck her that he had been right about needing to combine their knowledge, although he had not yet applied it to this specific case. "The beginning is very clear to me, Frederick. It is the continuation that is not."
"But you will not want to begin."
"I love you, so I always want to begin." In fact, she imagined it was exactly what they were doing now and that was something she could initiate -- she thought. "I may not always want to continue."
"I suppose you will not have the sort of business transaction for a wedding that Sophia had," Edward said to Frederick when the gentlemen of the family walked in a moment later. He studied the slightly guilty and blushing faces and their position on the sofa.
"I do not remember much of it," Frederick answered. He had been fifteen at the time and remembered only that he must have attended. He looked at Anne's hands in his, but it was too late to do anything about that now. He might as well leave them like this.
"There was no affection whatsoever." Edward thought he had witnessed enough to think there might not be a lack of affection in this case.
"Thankfully not. It would have made me sick if I had had to watch my captain kiss my sister. My sister! Disgusting."
"It would still have made me sick at that time too, Frederick," the admiral assured him. "I could not imagine it agreeable in the least. I never imagined it at all, in fact. But I beg you not have such a lengthy ceremony as Edward had, otherwise Sophia will not be able to attend all of it."
No business transaction and no lengthy ceremony. "Am I not marrying to please myself? Or should I take my family's wishes into account? By the sound of it they vary too widely to make everyone happy."
"It was really not too lengthy," Edward protested. "It did not contain more elements than I considered absolutely necessary."
"You are of a more spiritual bent. I merely wanted to have someone to talk to," said the admiral. "But unfortunately one has to be wed and listen to lectures first. I had long settled with her privately that we were going to be good. I did not think I needed those vows," he said provocatively, knowing how to draw a reaction out of Edward.
Frederick got up to leave them to their arguing. He pulled Anne by her hand and found the two other ladies together, fortunately. "Come to the church with me instantly," he pleaded. "Anne especially. Your husbands are discussing how my wedding should be, so I thought we should do it now, without them."
Anne was amazed. She had been pulled along, but she had not known why. "Right now?" She had thought he might wait a day or two, although now that she wondered about it, she did not know why.
Sophia looked no less surprised. "But Frederick, my babies."
"Are we to wait until your babies can walk to the church on their own?" That would take them years and he was definitely not going to wait more than a day.
"They want me, in half an hour."
"Three quarters of an hour," he negotiated.
"They accept no compromise. They will cry." She looked as if it would pain her very much to find them crying. The mere thought of their hungry wails made her lip tremble.
"We can go without you," Frederick said, although he would rather she came.
"No!" Sophia told herself not to be foolish. "Could you make it as quick as ours?"
"Of course." He embraced her. "I will do that for you, since I am immensely grateful to you for your manipulative meddling."
Posted on Saturday, 23 September 2006
"I hope you will not take Edward's side in this," Frederick said to his sister-in-law as they walked along. She had come and said nothing, but he did not know what she was thinking.
"Assuming you know Edward's side," she responded cryptically.
"He favours lengthy ceremonies, does he not?"
"Compared to my father he certainly does not. I think Edward is delightfully concise compared to him, but it was my father who insisted on marrying us and as such Edward cannot say too much about the length of our wedding ceremony, not even to me. However, his behaviour…" She smiled.
Frederick pondered Edward's having been persuaded to a longwinded ceremony. The notion was amusing. One must remain in the father of the bride's good books before the wedding, of course. Even he had felt this a little, although Sir Walter Elliot had no hold over Anne and nothing to recommend himself after the wedding. Still, a man would try for the sake of his wife. He might not have tried very hard himself, but at least he was not subjecting Sir Walter's daughter to a public wedding. The man might never find out how long it had taken and what Anne had worn.
"I do not even recall what we did," Sophia spoke. "Except that my brothers did not approve."
"Why not?" Anne glanced up at Frederick.
"I had the age not to approve," he said solemnly.
Anne had never had that age. "But you like him. I assume you knew him at the time too."
"That had nothing to do with it. He brought my elder sister on board. Do you think a boy really likes to have his mother or sister on board with him? Perhaps only a younger sister, so he can play elder brother, but not an elder sister! And she was taller, too!" He could mock himself now, but he had felt very vexed by this in the past.
"Taller!" Anne studied their respective heights. It was difficult to imagine that Frederick had once been shorter than his sister. By the time Sophia had married he must have caught up with her, she thought.
"He grew taller after I came on board. Imagine what might have happened had I never come along!" Sophia laughed. "Your captain had to promote you when he got me, but he was quite worried about your size not matching your rank and worried what people might think of his decision, so we fed you some good dinners, did we not?"
"I thought I was invited to dinner to keep you company!" Frederick cried, slipping back into the old and familiar indignant tone.
"But I had a husband for that! No, it was to make you grow taller. And then he shot up! Stop feeding him now, I said to James, he will hit his head everywhere."
"You did not!"
"No, I did not," she admitted.
Anne, they discovered, had gone out another time in the past days to inform the parson of her intentions and consequently he was not too surprised when the party appeared. He was most amazed to see Sophia among them, since the news of the birth had reached him too.
He was willing to bow to their wishes and the ceremony was conducted speedily. Frederick had noticed before that Anne's wishes carried some weight everywhere except with her own family. Her new family would be different.
Frederick had never imagined that the first lady he would give his arm after his wedding would be his sister and not his wife, but Sophia had seemed rather fatigued by the brisk walk or perhaps overcome by seeing her youngest brother finally taken care of. "I am sorry," he said to Anne, although she had received and returned as much of a kiss as was possible.
She did not mind. "We can do that later." She could not take his other arm, because that would leave Amelia alone and she understood very well that Sophia needed a little assistance in returning to Kellynch Hall.
"Everything can be done later," Sophia told her, although she looked grateful. "Everything except feeding my babies."
Frederick knew they depended on her, but she was not keeping them waiting for hours. They might not even notice. "Sophia, very likely they are sleeping contentedly."
She feared they were screaming and hungry and desperate for their mother. "But being fed is very important to them," she said with a pathetic little sniff.
He lifted her up when he thought that might go faster. "Getting married was very important to me too, but you know that."
"Frederick!" she yelped in shock. "Nobody has done that in ages. Put me down!"
Such an order only made him ignore it. He grinned at her. "I owe you some assistance and I am sure my nieces will not mind having to wait. Their happiness upon finally being granted their heart's desire must be all the greater. Why should they be the only ones in the family to be spoilt instantly?"
"Because they are too young for such lessons!"
"They will be fine," he soothed.
Now that Anne was married she could devote some more serious thoughts to the future. Until now they had merely been fanciful, or so she felt. Although she tried to think lofty thoughts, she could not progress beyond thinking that her husband was very handsome and not to mention very kind to his sister.
"Urgh," said Amelia suddenly.
Such sickness might well be her fate in a few months, Anne realised. She looked aside in concern, but there was no vomiting, merely a disgusted grimace. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. Just…urgh. I am fine."
"Oh, do I still want that?" she wondered. "There does not seem to be anything positive to it from beginning to end. Did you know before you married?"
Amelia was not too sick to giggle. "I still do not know everything. I have only been married and with child for three months."
"But if you had known this beforehand…"
Amelia realised one of them had to be carried and the other was feeling unwell, all due to the same thing. "You must not think that all of your sisters currently being invalids means they will always remain so. Edward has deep philosophies about it, but I say bodies merely protest against being forced to do new things. He does not feel a thing, of course, so he can derive comfort from a philosophy. I cannot. I am merely a human being."
Anne thought they might have interesting discussions. She had once thought a little like Edward, she supposed, but what Amelia thought suited her much better.
"He is not unfeeling, you know," Amelia continued. "He does not like being the cause of my pain and sickness, so he needs to think it is all in my best interest, or else he would feel despicable about himself."
"And you think it will all end," Anne said hopefully.
"Yes, I believe it is all temporary and it serves no higher moral purpose than, shall we say, a blister." Amelia smiled. "Edward can think of the moral purpose of a blister and he will protest vehemently against being compared to a new shoe, but that is beside the point. Why should I be in more need of moral lessons than Sophia, who was not really sick?"
"What about me?" Sophia tried to look over Frederick's shoulder when she heard her name.
"Edward believes there is some edifying moral purpose to my sickness. I disagree, because why should I need to learn this lesson and not you?"
"Moral purpose -- oh dear. He would be better off bringing you a bucket rather than pontificating on purposes."
"Oh, Edward can do two things at the same time." But if she was vomiting she might choose to concentrate on that alone and not on listening.
Sophia was relieved. She had not raised him to be indifferent, as well as one was able to raise a sibling who was only four years younger. "Still, why does Edward think you have something to learn? It is preposterous."
"Edward hopes there is a purpose to my suffering, since of course he never suffered for a second."
"His suffering will come later and it will not be of the physical kind," Sophia predicted.
"What?" said Frederick in alarm. "Can we keep it painless, Sophia? Please be discreet for once and do not tell her about the birth."
She looked up at him teasingly. "How discreet were you when you peeked into my room?"
Not very discreet, he would agree, but he had had no idea of what might be going on. "I am sorry. I had never given births the least bit of thought."
She raised her eyebrows. "Not even after we told you I was expecting? Did you never wonder what might happen to me? How the child might come into the world?"
"No," he confessed. "I never did." That was for women to wonder about.
"Did you only wonder what had happened to me?"
"I did, in a way, wonder how it could have happened now and not before." He had thought more about her happiness and her past wishes, however, since those were at least understandable.
"I shall no longer torture myself with such thoughts. You must not either. If you and James could simply forget what you saw…"
"That is my wife!" said Admiral Croft, seeing who was being carried in. He hoped she was all right, but she did not look hurt. She looked rather proud at being light enough to be carried, if concerned about her daughters.
Frederick shrugged. "Well, you have been carrying mine too."
Frederick's wife? "What have you done to Anne?" he asked, as if he did not suspect where everyone had suddenly gone.
"Married her." He carried Sophia towards her husband and set her down. "Here. Here she is to tend to your starving offspring."
"You must not be very heavy anymore, Sophy," the admiral observed. He knew she would appreciate such a comment. "Why do you think they are starving?"
"Have they not cried?" she asked anxiously, sitting down beside him to look at the baby in his arms. "They must be terribly hungry."
"Edward and I had to give them each a finger to suck on," he replied. "I am devastated at their lack of intelligence. They have not yet discovered they cannot suck anything out of our fingers. Every time they give up, they try again."
"Oh, oh, oh," Sophia muttered in distress. She arranged her gown and took over the baby he was holding. Propriety be damned -- they were starving.
Edward, who had been looking sheepish upon being caught with his little finger in a baby's mouth, now looked alarmed. "What? Here?"
She ignored him. Of course it must be done here. There was no question about that. They could not be kept waiting a second longer. "James? The other one?"
He had already taken her from Edward and arranged her in a good position against Sophia. There had been an immediate and very loud protest and he gave Sophia a helpless look. "I am trying, but it does not help that they are all looking. I must not seem to have too much knowledge of opening gowns in the front."
Edward nearly had a fit at all the fumbling with babies and clothing. "In company, Sophia!"
"Leave the room if it bothers you," she snapped, too distressed by the wailing that was still going on. "But you eat in company too. Besides, you are not company; you are family."
Admiral Croft's efforts were finally rewarded and the second baby turned quiet. He approached Anne. "Now I had prepared a poetic little speech for Frederick and you," he whispered to her.
"Poetic!" Anne replied in surprise.
"But alas. My daughters, you see. Everybody will be thrilled if we forego the poetic little speech. Tell Frederick I had one."
Edward had travelled here to be helpful and now they had done it without his help! He did not exactly know what to think and Sophia's actions had thrown him off balance even more, but he offered his sincerest congratulations nevertheless.
"I hope you do not feel left out," Frederick remarked.
"We could not leave, but I suppose being forced to pacify a baby was more urgent," Edward said grudgingly. "He would have done serious damage to me if I had not sacrificed my finger. I hope Anne has some conscious memories of being dragged to the altar."
"Not really, but I have some conscious memories of being there," she assured him. She smiled at her husband when she recalled how he had looked at her. That was all she would remember.
Frederick led Anne out of the room to have that smile all to himself. There he could look at her properly, without sisters or brothers disturbing them. "Anne, I hope your wedding did not disappoint you. But I could not --"
"Wait?"
"No."
"I am glad we did not wait." She sighed and leant against him. "Finally."
He kissed her, but stopped when he feared Edward might flee from the sight of nursing babies. "We could start moving my clothes to your rooms. I shall have little inclination for that at bedtime. And we could be alone there."
"I looked into moving your clothes," Anne revealed. "But I was afraid of appearing too forward, so I did not." She could tell from Frederick's expression that he would certainly not have considered it too forward at all. He might have protested against her upsetting the obvious order in his arrangements, however.