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Chapter Twenty-Three

Posted on Sunday, 20 January 2008

"So you understand his reproaches?" Anne's eyes filled up with tears instantly. Captain Croft had been kind. She wished he would come back. Mrs Croft did not speak unkindly, but she seemed determined to speak of everything Anne would rather not and then to question her answers. Being self-effacing, which she had always considered a virtue, was one thing, but being called too self-effacing sounded very much like criticism. Was it not also close to what Frederick had said?

"I am trying to make sense of it. He may have loved you, but I do not believe he was ignorant. He cannot possibly not have felt what he was doing. I can see you trying to ignore it, but he had no reason to fear you would stop loving him." Mrs Croft paused. "Or would he? What would you have done if he had explained what he was doing?"

Anne got the impression that Frederick's sister was hoping she would have called him the most vicious man on earth. She did not seem to want to condemn either of them, which was a small relief, but Anne could still not be certain of it. "I ought to say -- but I do not know. I was very much in love with him. I must have considered being one with him much more important than propriety."

It was a foolish answer, Anne realised, and it would surely not satisfy Mrs Croft. As she studied her anxiously it did not look as if it did. It might not have satisfied herself either if someone else had given it. It was not at all sensible. But unfortunately it was the truth. Everything had been overshadowed by Frederick's love.

Mrs Croft gestured. "So we have Frederick, in love and certain of being married very soon -- I cannot see him settle for a long engagement -- who does rather more than he should and we have you, who would not have dared to say he was doing too much because you loved him so much."

Anne grew indignant, at the tone with which the latter words were voiced especially. "But that is not true. He simply lay there."

"Like an injured man," Mrs Croft said with a knowing nod. "But they are still quite dangerous simply lying there, as we now both know, unless they keep their trousers safely buttoned up."

Anne gasped and pressed her hands to her cheeks. "You shock me, Mrs Croft."

"Perhaps it was time someone did. You might not have known unbuttoning led to trouble, but do not tell me Frederick did not know. I hope he did not, but it is a vain hope, because he is in possession of a good mind. It will suit me much better to think you seduced him unwittingly -- though I know it is probably not at all justified -- and that he was simply incapable of stopping you for fear of losing your good opinion."

Anne was still shocked. Never had anyone suggested she might have seduced Frederick, unwittingly or not.

"But what will happen now? You have a child and you are not married."

"I cannot say anything anymore now."

"Do recover your senses. You know what went on and what got you in trouble. You cannot be surprised by my recounting it."

Anne took a few deep breaths. "But perhaps I do not know what else you will say." There was no need to bring the injured and unbuttoned captain into it. Perhaps Mrs Croft had not finished mentioning him.

"I cannot recount anything you did not do."

She was not sure what that meant and she very much wanted to cry, but by doing so she would lose Mrs Croft's good opinion even more, if it was not already completely lost. Edward had said that the one person who would be kind to her was his sister, but here she was and she was not at all kind. It was such a disappointment.

Anne had gone away with the very weak excuse of having to give Mrs Croft some rest. In reality, of course, she did not want to hear more reproaches. She went upstairs to the nursery, but the nursery maid was always there and she could not cry in peace. There was no other option but to go to Frederick's room.

She sat there and cried. She was weak. Not only Frederick had said so but his sister as well. Perhaps she had expected too much.

Had she done so wrong in listening to Lady Russell? Frederick and his sister would think so, but who else? She did not have the opinion of an outsider, someone who could objectively tell her if she had done right. It was her duty to listen to her parents and Lady Russell had been a parent to her. Her decision had therefore not been wholly irrational. She could justify and explain it. He might be made to understand it more easily than he could be made to respect it.

He had no parents, but surely he had a sense of duty towards his country, the navy and his crew? If they had married and he had had to go to sea, she would have understood. She would have disliked it as much as any other loving wife, but she would not have resented him for it.

He would not think it similar in any way, of course.

He had loved her and he had been certain of becoming rich very soon, because he had always been lucky. And once he was rich, she would have everything she desired. Anne bent her head. It had sounded so easy. She had believed him until Lady Russell had expressed her doubts. Those doubts now seemed justified, for Captain Croft did not appear to be terribly rich, what with his single trunk and Mrs Croft's limited wardrobe. And this when he had presumably been a captain for longer. They were not all lucky then.

Yet she could have been perfectly happy even if Frederick had not had the luck he expected. Mrs Croft seemed happy with the captain and he thought she looked fabulous in her badly sewn amalgamation of dresses. They were nice to each other. It might have gone well. Frederick would not think otherwise.

But he could just as well have waited a year or two and have settled for an engagement. What harm would that have done? Anne tried to imagine waiting for a fortune. To him it would look as if she only wanted him with money, in spite of having her promise. How much would her promise mean to him?

She contemplated that. She was always in a position to withdraw her promise and to break the engagement, should he return poor or injured, whereas he would be bound to her until she released him. He must have considered that too uncertain a position, in spite of his expectations of his luck. Yes, he could have returned after two years, only to be told she no longer wanted him.

Now who had not trusted whom? It gave her a headache to wonder if he had trusted her before she had spoken of Lady Russell's misgivings or not.

She was digressing from Mrs Croft's opinion of her, of course, and she tried to return to that. Too self-effacing. Perhaps in the matter of her engagement she had been, a little, but the other matter, which made her cheeks burn, was more complicated. Mrs Croft had implied that she had suffered pain and whatnot and that Frederick had kept her in the dark.

She refused to believe that. He would not deliberately deceive her. It was not in his nature. And she had not suffered any pain because she was too timid to speak. No. She had not suffered any pain because there had not been much of it, contrary to what Mrs Croft seemed to think.

Mrs Croft would have wanted her to keep Frederick at a distance, but she did not know what was worse: to keep him at a distance before anything happened or to push him away when something did. Mrs Croft was perhaps very much like Lady Russell. They did not like those things.

Captain Croft found his wife rather grumpy. "Are you not happy, my dear?" he inquired. He was rather happy himself, having seen his daughters come into the world successfully and having just had a proper meal.

"No," she replied in a tone that left absolutely no room for doubt. "Not in the least. First of all, you were never going to walk again, yet now you can walk tolerably well and I am left with children!"

"I am very sorry to be walking," he said contritely, although he did not take her very seriously. She had been happy to find out she was expecting.

"But nothing will be in the way of your getting another ship again and I shall not be able to go." This prospect had sunk her spirits entirely. She would have to stay behind.

"Ah, and who is then to shoot evil attackers?"

"Do not make fun of me," Mrs Croft said with tears in her eyes. "I am very, very sad."

He embraced her at length, as was his duty, although he did not feel any improvement. "And secondly?"

"Do you have any laudanum left?"

"None, I am sorry. Thirdly?"

"Why do you think there is a third?" she exclaimed.

"Because you are unnaturally depressed."

She thought for a second. "Thirdly, you left me to have a meal, but you got me nothing."

"You did that to me on board," he observed. "After all your little tête-à-têtes with Captain Ridley's cook, I thought it was time I had one of my own with Edward's cook. They are a bit overrun in the kitchen because of all the visitors and the dirty laundry, but something should be ready for you soon."

That mollified her a bit. "I thought the crew thought I had tête-à-têtes with Captain Ridley himself."

"Yes, that was one of the reasons I was determined to show my face outside our cabin, preferably on my feet." After the gossip had reached him he had been determined to show he was as virile as any other man on board and that his Sophia had not had to turn elsewhere. By now it was merely amusing, though he had not thought so at the time. "Fourthly?"

"Frederick."

"He had some tête-à-têtes with that girl."

"You speak so indifferently!" she cried. The matter was very serious. He should not be so flippant about it. She was very upset.

"Why does it depress you? She seems a nice girl." The naughty deeds were done and he was sure people had spoken to her about them. There was no point in repeating all that.

"But she has a child and they are not married and she is too timid to be a good wife."

"Your other brother is a duplicitous criminal, Sophia. She is now married to Frederick. On second thought, perhaps it is depressing indeed, because he does not know about it yet."

"Those are three depressing things -- five, six and seven. Tell me about Edward. Duplicitous what?"

"He passed himself off as Frederick in Gretna Green."

"Edward?" Sophia cried. "Why?"

He was not at all affected by her mood, he thought in regret. It was rather amusing to see her like this. He had been much more despondent himself after they had told him he would never walk again. If she had been able to live through that, she could easily deal with this. "Because he is Edward and not Frederick."

She gave him a look.

He gave in. "To legitimise little Sophy. I must say I am impressed with him."

"Impressed!" she spluttered.

"His loyalty to his family and his generosity. Indeed. I am impressed." He would never have expected Edward to bend the rules. Edward was a good boy, but he always went by the book.

Sophia did not quite see it like that. Not yet. "But I am very --"

Before she could again say that she was sad, he silenced her. "Hold your tongue."

As the master of the house, Edward had to arrange for meals and places to sleep for everybody. Or rather, he had to instruct his servants to take care of that and due to all the commotion he was not sure they had a good idea of who were here at present. Mrs Dickinson would probably be offended if he said so, so he did not.

Anne had given up her room and moved to the nursery. He did not know if the nursery was such a good place now that two more babies had arrived who might be spending some time there. Three babies and a nursery maid and Anne wanted to sleep there too. She might be better off moving in with Lady Russell, but then he remembered that Lady Russell was not fond of waking in the middle of the night and Anne had said that Sophy still woke her.

He went to Frederick's room to see if it was fit to be slept in, but Anne was already there. She was reading.

She jumped up and dropped the book on her chair. "I am sorry. I needed to be alone and the nursery was not the right place and --"

"You are married, you know."

She still had to get used to the practical sides of that. Apparently it included being allowed to be here without needing an excuse. "Oh."

"I thought you might need to sleep here."

"I can sleep in the nursery." But as she spoke she thought Mrs Croft might see that as too self-effacing. Perhaps she should ask to sleep here indeed. No, not ask -- demand.

"It is a bit crowded there now, do you not think so? Besides, would you really want my brother-in-law to disturb your sleep all the time?"

"Would he? The babies would sleep in Mrs Croft's room, would they not?" Anne thought that was much more practical in the beginning. Poor Mrs Croft would be running to and fro all night, try to cater to the needs of two infants. She had best keep them near.

"So does he. That is why they may choose to put the babies in the nursery. I do not know."

"I thought he would sleep with you."

That puzzled Edward. "Why?"

"Because there are no rooms left and you are the only man."

"But he is married."

"Does that matter?"

"To them it does. But would it be acceptable to you to sleep here with Sophy?"

"Yes, yes. Would you -- but what if he came back this evening? Frederick." Her eyes were wide.

"Then you would share. After I take the two of you aside and marry you again, of course, or at least impress you with the vows."

She was not sure what to think of that and she gave Edward and uncertain smile as she went to transfer her belongings to yet another room.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Posted on Wednesday, 23 January 2008

Lady Russell had thought she had better not drink too much of Mrs Dickinson's liquor or she would become tipsy. She had scrubbed her arms and changed her gown and no more blood could be seen. The maids were busy rinsing everything and Mrs Dickinson had taken it upon herself to prepare some food, so there was nobody left to attend to Mrs Croft unless Anne was with her. But knowing Sophy's frequent demands for attention, Lady Russell could not have faith in that.

She went to the back sitting room herself and found Mrs Croft eating in the Roman style with Captain Croft looking on. They certainly looked as if they were comfortable and Lady Russell sat down. "Have your babies cried?"

"They seem to be sleeping. James is keeping an eye on them to see if they continue to breathe."

"I thought babies cried all the time," the captain said sheepishly. "But these are rather quiet."

"If they start crying again you must call Anne to help you with the nursing again." For the time being Lady Russell had seen enough of body parts that were usually covered. Anne would have to do her share and she knew more about it anyhow.

"I think I have upset your daughter," Mrs Croft said. "By asking her questions she would rather not answer."

"What sort of questions?" She realised belatedly that perhaps she did not want to know at all and she sat motionless. They must be quite impertinent questions if even Anne did not want to answer them.

"I am trying to understand what went on," replied Mrs Croft, looking suitably puzzled. "I do not believe her account of how she conceived. I do not understand why one did not tell the other to stop. That is what I should have done."

Captain Croft cleared his throat. "My dear Sophia, why did you need an account of it? Is it not self-explanatory?"

"I need no account of it, certainly," Lady Russell said quickly.

Mrs Croft gave her a rather piercing stare. "Did you not want to know how it came about? Or did you blame my brother automatically?"

"I did at first. My knowledge of Anne..." She shook her head. Her knowledge of Anne had perhaps not been as thorough as she wished. "But I have come to realise that she may have made it easy for him. She seems to be rather susceptible to being loved. Her father and her sister do not appreciate her as they ought. I could well see her do anything for someone who said he loved her."

"One may be carried away, but only to a certain point. One or both had to be aware of what went on. Has nobody ever explained anything to her?"

Lady Russell coloured. "I suppose that should have been my task after her mother's death, but she was always such a good girl that I thought no warnings were necessary. Her mother died a few years ago. I was her godmother."

Mrs Croft fortunately did not begin to blame her. She was entirely occupied by thinking of her brother. "I still cannot imagine Frederick taking advantage of a girl, lonely and unloved though she might be. But at the same time I cannot imagine him ignorant. I am not saying he did it before, but men are born with a certain amount of knowledge."

The captain cleared his throat again. "I do not dispute what you say, Sophia, but I will add that men are only born with as much knowledge as is required to complement the knowledge that a woman is born with."

Lady Russell did not think she had been born with any knowledge. She did not know what the captain was talking about and she hoped nobody would explain.

"Ladies," said the captain after looking at their faces. "There is no need to analyse how it happened, because I still maintain that is self-explanatory. It is furthermore behind us." Evidently he would rather move on.

"And what will happen when he comes back?" said his frustrated wife.

Lady Russell had wondered the same. She could not be as trusting as Anne. "Anne believes he will forget his anger the moment he sees Sophy. She also thinks he will have money enough to support them."

Captain Croft turned out to be as optimistic as Anne. "If Edward can support a house full of guests, I do not see why Frederick could not support a wife and a child who does not yet eat."

"Edward cannot," Lady Russell said quietly. "I have been giving his housekeeper money. And captain, the child may not yet eat, as you put it, but it does produce a lot of laundry." The captain knew nothing of laundry, she expected, yet he might understand that one would have to have one extra servant for it at least.

"Frederick did some very good things for his crew," said the captain. "I do not doubt he would do some good things for his own child."

"But she is too self-effacing," said Mrs Croft. She looked dissatisfied with having a self-effacing sister-in-law.

Lady Russell wondered how she could know that after having seen Anne only briefly. It was nevertheless a little true. Anne usually submitted herself to the wishes of others, but this was not an entirely bad quality in her situation. Only think of the havoc it would have wreaked on everyone if she had been headstrong and rebellious.

"It matters little what you like, Sophia," her husband pointed out amiably. "Perhaps he likes his wife docile."

There was another matter that occupied Lady Russell and she hoped she was not too opportunistic for voicing it. Now that they were here and likely to stay for a while, she could be more comfortable about leaving to visit her sister.

Anne had been summoned downstairs by Lady Russell when Mrs Croft needed some assistance with her babies. Lady Russell had then made herself scarce and she had to face Mrs Croft almost all on her own. The captain was present, which was but a small consolation. Anne thought he was very strange to stay, although he proved to be useful as an extra pair of hands.

"They like it," said Mrs Croft, when she was finally installed in a good position and her husband had left at her request. "They like it very much. They know they will, so that if you offer yourself, they are usually not strong enough to withstand."

Anne stared. "Babies?"

"Babies too, I suppose, but I was speaking of men."

It took her a few moments to realise of what Mrs Croft was speaking precisely and then she blushed fiercely. "But I did not offer myself."

"You may have given him the opportunity, but then the same applies."

Anne said nothing. She would not have been capable, even if she had known what to say. Her sense of duty forbade her to leave -- she was supporting one of the babies with her hand -- but she wished she could.

"To illustrate my point, my husband did not decline my offer of amusement even when he was injured," said Mrs Croft. "I meant to amuse him, the poor man. There was not much else he could do and even this, I think, was slightly painful."

"I wish you would not speak of such things to me," Anne managed to say. She did not want to think of them at all, although she supposed they were mentioned because of some similarity. If such a similarity helped Mrs Croft to understand it better, then she might consider telling her a little. But first she must be less subdued and quiet, for such an attitude did not impress Mrs Croft. "Why did you hurt him deliberately?"

"Because he trusts me well enough to tell me to stop. He can be honest without consequences."

"And he did not tell you to stop?"

"No." Mrs Croft was quick. "But it is not comparable to your situation. I mentioned it to show you how well they appreciate it -- in spite of anything."

"I do not think I see your point," Anne said a little unhappily. Frederick would have appreciated it in spite of anything. Even in spite of the consequences, which would be solely hers to bear? "Are you saying he would have placed his own pleasures above my ruin? I cannot believe that."

"I am afraid that is how many men think. I hope my brother does not, but his being my brother does not make him a saint, unfortunately."

"Is your husband one of the men who think like that?"

"No, he is not. But his being my husband makes him a saint, of course, because I had the power of choice."

"Then there may be others. I had the power of choice. Frederick does not think like that. I am sure of it. I am sure he did not know I could be ruined." Anne stuck to her faith in Frederick. She must not give that up.

"Hmm," Mrs Croft said in disbelief. "I can only believe that if he was certain of marrying you within the next month, so as to obscure his haste. In such a case there would not have been any scandal or ruin, but it raises the following question: why did he not bring this up when you broke your engagement? Why did he not warn you what might have happened?"

"I believe that was from not knowing, not from not caring. Did your husband not warn you?" If Mrs Croft kept comparing the two situations, she could not blame Anne for doing the same.

"We had been married long enough to have forgotten about that possibility," Mrs Croft said solemnly. "If I had had to reckon with it, I should of course never have chosen such an impractical moment, at sea at the beginning of our journey."

"Then why do you not understand me?" Anne cried. "Only people such as Edward believe it happens solely to make children."

Mrs Croft gave a series of little coughs in response. "And it was Edward you went to first?"

After having sat some time with Mrs Croft Anne was pleased to find a change in that lady's attitude. She was more inclined to think her brother innocent. Although she was not yet entirely convinced, she had at least decided to let the matter rest until his return, for nobody had any way of knowing for certain until then. But there was not really much Frederick could do except submit to his fate. It was no different from what would have befallen him had he stayed: he would also have been made to marry Anne. Mrs Croft seemed to doubt their chances at happiness, but she said no more about it.

Anne was a little afraid when she heard Lady Russell would leave while the Crofts were still here, for any care and entertainment would then fall to her, but she began to realise that she had been keeping Lady Russell very occupied indeed. Lady Russell had had to leave her home and friends to take care of her, so that Anne had no right to lament her absence.

Perhaps it even gave her the opportunity to show her new sister-in-law that she was not silly. Anne would like for Mrs Croft to appreciate her, because in spite of her frankness about the captain, Anne wanted to like her.

Edward, after recovering from his surprise and shock, was thrilled to have his sister there. He had looked at his newest nieces and thought they looked exactly like Sophy. This had made him a little afraid that in a few weeks nobody would be able to tell the three of them apart anymore. He did not think his house was too crowded, not yet, although because of the three more females he was very glad for Captain Croft.

The new babies had not yet been heard, only seen, and they had not yet produced piles of laundry -- although he never had anything to do with piles of laundry anyhow. Mrs Dickinson foresaw a lot of work and she had conferred with Lady Russell, on whom she had found she could depend more in these matters than her master.

Lady Russell had discussed her trip with her as well and appointed Anne as her replacement. Anne had so far not had to do much in the household that had not directly had a bearing on little Sophy, but Mrs Dickinson hoped that with only Anne and Mr Wentworth it would all go smoothly, although she was certainly capable of running the house without anyone there herself.

She was glad that Captain and Mrs Croft had finally agreed to sleep upstairs. Mrs Croft should not be coming downstairs too often, although from what she had seen so far that lady was even worse than Mrs Wentworth -- something that had surprised Mrs Croft when she was told -- and very likely she would be more often downstairs than in her bed. The captain was luckily getting better at moving about and he would very likely remain downstairs during the day, reducing the risk of him tumbling down the stairs.

Mrs Dickinson hoped nevertheless that nobody else would arrive, not even Captain Wentworth.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Posted on Saturday, 26 January 2008

The night went fine for those who did not have a baby in their rooms. Edward met only Lady Russell for breakfast; the others were still in bed.

Anne was exhausted. The captain had woken her in the middle of the night because one of the twins was inconsolable, but she had not been able to offer much help. She hoped the situation had improved after she left. Although she had been sorry she had not been able to silence the little girl and she would have stayed longer, Captain Croft had sent her back to bed.

She was not sure what Mrs Croft would have preferred. If she had stayed too long she would not have thought of herself enough, which Mrs Croft might think forgiveable if she benefited from it herself. But as it was, the captain had sent her back to bed before his wife could give her opinion.

When she came downstairs for breakfast, Edward and Lady Russell were long gone. Only Mrs Croft was there. This unnerved Anne a little, but she greeted her very politely and laid Sophy on the soft pillow that lay there especially for her. Then she sat down.

"On board I grew used to having some of my meals without my husband," Mrs Croft said a little sadly. "But I had thought it was temporary. I could not fathom it would be thus for the rest of my life."

Anne was affected by her sadness. She wondered where the captain had gone and where he was going to be in the future. "Why? Where is he?"

"At present he is in bed with the girls, but in the future he will be at sea and I shall be on land."

Anne had only ever had her meals apart from her husband, so she was sure she did not fully understand the apparent joy of sharing a table. She tried, however. "Is he very good company?"

"I think so."

"But your girls may be good company as well."

"That would take a while," Mrs Croft said with a depressed sigh.

It struck Anne that perhaps she was not very happy to have her girls. The poor little things! "Well, if you insist on sailing because you would prefer to be with your husband, I am sure you could leave them with me," she said a little coolly. "Sophy and I should not mind."

"Oh," said Mrs Croft, looking very much taken aback. "You think I do not care."

"Well..." Anne did not know if she was very odd in interpreting it like that.

"But if I had not cared I should not have felt any need to be sad. It would have been clear. I should have sent my daughters to their grandfather and uncles while James and I went to sea." She gave another sigh. "But just when I stopped wanting them and felt I might prefer to remain childless, they came. What a cruel trick of fate that was. I do want them, you know, but I had just resigned myself to accompanying my husband everywhere. It is not that I do not love that, but..."

"Can you not take them with you?"

"I do not think that would be very good for them. You are fortunate. You have never been. You have only ever been here." She had been looking at Sophy on the pillow off and on. "Do you always bring her?"

"Yes, they are used to my odd ways by now. They are always telling me to leave her in the nursery, but she wants to be with me. She is very happy just lying there." And she was very happy that Sophy wanted to be near her. It was not always convenient, but on the whole it was very gratifying. Sophy was the only person who thought she was unconditionally wonderful.

"We could do that," Mrs Croft mused. "Surely if they -- who are they? -- allow your baby to lie there, they would allow mine?" She looked around for a good spot for her twins.

Anne was amused by the change in her demeanour. There was now something close to happiness. She had not yet seen that. There had been calmness when she arrived, frustration that the birth was not going faster and then the odd sadness. But a happy Mrs Croft was more girlish and suddenly closer in age to Anne herself.

Mrs Croft shifted in her chair. "Perhaps I should prefer lying on a pillow as well. It would be better than sitting on a pillow. I am not very comfortable sitting."

"A few more days," Anne promised.

"Thank you. You make taking care of them look so easy."

Anne wondered if that was a sort of compliment. It would surprise her if that was the case. "But Sophy is already three months old. I have had time. I did not know much at first and neither did my mother, because she is not really my mother and thus she never had any children herself. She was very shocked that I wanted to take Sophy outside after a few days, but I insisted and it was very nice. If there is anything you wish to do you must insist on it and not think of the neighbours."

"Yes, I understand mothers are to remain in bed for weeks," Mrs Croft said with some incredulity. "But I cannot imagine why."

"If you get enough rest during the night I do not see why either."

They were interrupted by Lady Russell and a maid carrying in rolls of fabric. "There," Lady Russell said in satisfaction. "I have brought you some work."

Anne and Mrs Croft had set to work in the sitting room, with Sophy on the floor and the twins in their baskets. Jenny sometimes came in with the gown she was remaking for Mrs Croft. It was good that Jenny worked on the gown, because Mrs Croft herself did not have the skill. Anne gave her the easy work when she was awake.

Captain Croft read the newspaper to them, notably those articles he knew would draw a reaction from his wife. Anne was rather amused by them. She found she could laugh at the same things for the same reasons, although there was some they understood that she did not.

"You could have read the newspaper to him," Anne felt confident enough to whisper at some point. It was very impertinent of her and she hardly knew why she dared.

"We do not often have newspapers at sea," Mrs Croft whispered back, but it seemed she thought the remark more amusing than stupid.

Anne blushed nevertheless. "Of course. Frederick would surely have made fun of me that after all his explanations I should still not know."

"Frederick is all too apt to make fun of others."

"Not of me, but this would surely have prompted him because it was very, very stupid." Anne thought he was more apt to make fun of the very, very stupid. He had only ever ridiculed her very gently and that had been because he liked her.

They sat like that for half the day until an unfamiliar carriage stopped outside. A man was let out. "That is Henry, my brother," Captain Croft said in surprise. "He is quick. He has come to take us home, but I doubt we shall be able to go. Can you imagine Henry taking a woman and two babies in his carriage, Sophia?"

With a smile Mrs Croft said that she could not.

Anne was curious about such a man, but she restrained herself. A young woman, now twenty years of age, would no longer hide herself behind a plant to catch a glimpse, something she might have done when she was nineteen. But it was intriguing that he had come to pick up the Crofts without wanting to take babies into his carriage. She assumed he had been notified why he needed to collect them.

The captain had not been mistaken, for Mr Henry Croft was shown into the room. He was rather taken aback by Anne's presence and he mumbled a greeting. He was a good-looking man, but apparently very shy. He professed himself glad to find everyone in health, but he said nothing else.

"I think we are forced to stay here another few weeks," Captain Croft told him. "They have come out already, Henry."

Mr Croft was too shocked to speak.

"Mrs Wentworth here travelled safely at three weeks and Sophy is convinced she can do the same, but she has an extra child. We shall wait three weeks at least to be absolutely sure." He glanced at Mrs Croft, but her expression indicated that she would be ready to travel tomorrow.

"They? Extra child?" Mr Croft finally inquired.

"She had two." Captain Croft looked rather proud of that feat. "Look, they are in these baskets."

"Two?" Mr Croft was appalled, but he looked into the baskets nevertheless. "How did you manage that?"

The captain did not answer that, but he smiled mysteriously.

"And that one?" Mr Croft indicated Sophy. He seemed afraid of having to take her home as well.

"Do not fear. She will remain here." He discussed with his brother when would be the best time to return for them, although of course Mr Croft was not travelling home again until tomorrow.

Anne received the impression that Mrs Croft did not think very highly of the Croft family. She sometimes rolled her eyes or turned away. Sometimes Anne understood why, but at other times it was perhaps a little undeserved. Mr Croft could not help not knowing much about small children, although he was not at all as excited as Edward had been, even though both were uncles.

Since her own presence had made Mr Croft uncomfortable and Lady Russell's return discomposed him even more, Anne did not think Mrs Croft would like it very much if she had to live with him. What had she said? A grandfather and uncles, no mention of other women.

Perhaps Mrs Croft feared she would have to live with them if her husband went back to sea. That would not be a happy prospect to her. Anne felt sorry for her, but she had not built up enough of a friendship to suggest they live somewhere together. She remembered belatedly that someone had to pay for such an arrangement and that Lady Russell might not want to take in Mrs Croft, or that Mrs Croft might not be able to afford to have a friend live with her.

It was always about money. Suddenly she wondered who had paid for the fabric Lady Russell had brought in. Lady Russell herself, she assumed, but she had thought they were making things for the Croft babies. She asked Lady Russell in a low voice when the latter sat down beside her.

"Yes, my dear, such things cost money," Lady Russell replied.

"But that is very kind of you."

"I am very kind. Although why does that man look at me as if I have two heads?" She tried not to glance at Mr Croft.

Anne studied her critically. "You still have only one head. I think he may be afraid we are all coming to live with him."

"I am leaving for my sister's tomorrow. This is a very good time for me to go."

"Is it?" Anne thought it could not be timed more ill. There was so much to do here now with two more children.

"It is very good that I shall not have to leave you alone with Edward. His sister can keep an eye on you."

"But Edward is of no use to me when it comes to --" She stopped when she saw Lady Russell's expression. "I understand."

Chapter Twenty-Six

Posted on Tuesday, 29 January 2008

Lady Russell went to visit her sister and Mr Croft returned to his family. Anne managed rather well with only Edward and Captain and Mrs Croft for company. The gentlemen posed no problem and she had to help Mrs Croft for the first few days too often for that lady to question her too much. After her promising start Mrs Croft had completely collapsed. Anne had never experienced this herself and when the captain was equally at a loss she wished for Lady Russell, but of course Lady Russell would know nothing about it either. It was up to Anne and the captain to restore Mrs Croft's spirits and energy when she was constantly being drained by two hungry little infants. Anne knew they were all healthy and that nothing was in the way of improvement except Mrs Croft's own melancholy thoughts, which could perhaps be influenced by cheerful encouragement. She tried her best.

After a few days Mrs Croft recovered. She had more energy and she was capable of displaying a positive interest in life outside the nursery. Months of taking care of an invalid husband and now of two small creatures who could not say what they wanted had taken their toll.

"What luck I had. Imagine this on board," said Mrs Croft said when she was granted a break between nursings, which did not often happen. "With a husband commanding a ship and only sailors to help me. The risk we were taking all these years!"

"True, we could have been shot to the bottom many times," said the captain. "That was the only risk I reckoned with."

"Can Frederick be shot to the bottom?" Anne asked. She had never dared to contemplate it, although she had certainly known it was a possibility for other sailors. "He always told me our navy is far superior to those with whom we are at war and that only the sea herself could sink him, but that he is good friends with her and --" Quite possibly she was sounding very silly. Coming from Frederick's mouth the words had sounded heroic and passionate, but from hers they would merely be foolish.

"Haha," said Captain Croft. "What nonsense these young fellows talk! On the whole we are superior, but it takes but one reckless fool on the other side and a bad decision on ours to make an exception."

"But he does not make..." Anne's voice trailed off.

He was very tactful. "You will have read about the loss of some of our ships. I leave it at that."

Anne was afraid for the better part of two days until she reasoned that if Frederick went down, he would go down doing something he loved and he, at least, would have no regrets. Still, she would and she would prefer to see him back. It was very selfish of her.

When she saw Captain Croft with his wife and daughters she wanted Frederick back more than ever. "Will he be sorry he missed this?" she wondered. He would not see Sophy until she was much bigger. He would not have been able to marvel at how tiny she was in the beginning and he would have missed her first smile. Would Sophy be afraid of him?

The captain's solution was simple. "Have another."

Mrs Croft, from either a greater knowledge of her brother or a greater prudence, was astonished by such simplicity. "James!"

"Sophia?" He looked innocent.

"Would you, if you did not part from me on the best of terms and you saw me again, pretend nothing had happened and happily suggest having another child?" She looked resigned, expecting a certain kind of answer.

"Yes," he said with glee. "Assuming I can be drawn into an argument. But you think he will not take this one lying down." He grinned at himself.

"I think she is right to be concerned."

Captain Croft did not understand that in the least, but Anne did not resent him for it. His situation was different. "But you have no reason to doubt Mrs Croft's affections."

Those had become evident to her in the past week. Not only did they speak kindly to each other, but they teased each other in good humour. They were furthermore rather inseparable and sometimes they touched. Not as surreptitiously as Frederick and she had been wont to do, but quite openly and unashamedly. At first she had been embarrassed even by a little touching of their hands, but by now she thought she might only be embarrassed if they were to kiss -- if they did.

"Affections are always stronger than anger," Captain Croft believed.

"Not for Frederick." He had been able to be angry with her in spite of loving her. She could not say how he had felt after his departure, but at that particular moment his explosion of anger had certainly been stronger. It might not have lasted -- such strong feelings rarely did -- but the damage had been done.

"Then he will have realised by now he is a damned fool. Pardon my language, madam. I am not used to being around ladies." He gave her a sunny smile.

He refused to take her concerns seriously, but Anne thought it strangely comforting. It was exactly what she wanted to hear.

Life at the parsonage had never been so exciting, Edward reflected as he tried to do some work in his study. He did not have to do much work, but the little that was absolutely expected of him was increasingly difficult to squeeze into the running of the household. How did married clergymen manage, he wondered. There was always something or someone disturbing him, from a crying baby to his brother-in-law in search of something to read.

He realised he was selfish in thinking them disturbing, for when he had no work to do he appreciated their presence and he chastised himself. This put him in a more generous frame of mind, although he had by no means wanted to tempt fate so much as to invite even more people to his house.

The arrival of Dr Greene caused him some distress as a consequence. And he had brought Miss Greene again too! Why was that? Edward looked at the still empty sheet before him and sighed. He was not making much progress -- though perhaps he was. He quickly scribbled down that one must not be selfish about interruptions and went out to meet the rector.

"I came to see how you were doing, Mr Wentworth," said Dr Greene. "And my children made some gifts for your niece."

"Which niece?" Edward inquired more tiredly than he had intended. "They have multiplied since you were here last."

"What can you mean?"

Edward took them into the front parlour where they would be able to speak quietly, he hoped. The rest of the family was usually in the back room. "My sister arrived unexpectedly from overseas. She also unexpectedly produced twins. Unexpected to me, that is. She knew about them."

"Had she not written about them?" Dr Greene was surprised.

"She made them during the journey, sir." He suddenly realised Miss Greene was still with them and he blushed fiercely. "I am sorry, sir."

"Sorry to have more nieces? But I understand that they are very young?"

"Yes, sir." Edward did not dare to look at Miss Greene, who might now be wondering about all sorts of forbidden things due to his slip of the tongue. He hoped her father would forgive him. "So I now have three nieces and two sisters staying here. I was just wondering how married men manage to get any work done."

"They learn to do so, in spite of all the interruptions," Dr Greene assured him. "Although I do at times send my entire family away. Can you not do the same?"

"They are not my wives and children to dispose of, sir. But my sister will be collected by her husband's family in a fortnight. "

"And then you will be very sorry they are gone," Dr Greene predicted.

"I cannot say. Perhaps. Captain Croft is here too and he is at least male, although he is injured and he cannot walk out with me. But a man should open his house to those who are in need of a place to sleep." He should remember that the next time he was disturbed.

"Of course it is very laudable to be so charitable, Mr Wentworth, but a man must not lose his common sense. I had not thought you would be able to support so many relatives on your income from the curacy alone." The rector raised a questioning eyebrow.

"That has been a cause for concern," Edward admitted. "I have not asked Lady Russell for money -- I have not even broached the subject -- but I have been hoping she would realise my income is not nearly sufficient to provide the luxuries she and Mrs Wentworth have always been used to. I have been struggling with this because one cannot ask, but fortunately I have not heard anything about a shortage."

"But where are all these young ladies? We apologise for not having brought gifts for three, but perhaps the mothers could divide the presents fairly."

"They are very odd," Edward said a little fearfully, as he was sure Dr Greene kept his offspring safely in the nursery at all times. That was what nurseries were for. It was what the nursery in this house was for, but nobody stuck to it. "But they have taken over the back sitting room with their babies and are usually changing the napkins or nursing them when I walk in." He had once or twice been very startled, even if the ladies themselves had not seemed to care one bit. Still, it would not do to reveal their careless ways to Dr Greene. He might think all manner of undeserving things of them.

"Then we shall knock. Or send Amelia in ahead to see if it is safe for us to trespass on the younger and older young ladies."

"But I cannot simply go into the room to stare, Papa," Amelia said and she immediately took a step back.

"And would you want her to see that, sir?" Edward was appalled.

"See what? I have children. I know what goes in and out."

The problem was that Miss Greene would not, but Edward did not dare to be so outspoken. He watched as Miss Greene was sent in against her will and he had the utmost sympathy for her reluctance.

Anne was not nursing when Miss Greene came in, but Mrs Croft was because she always was. Her daughters took turns being hungry and while they sometimes wanted to drink without having asked for it, often they did not. Feeding them both at once was usually not possible, because as young as they were, they did not take orders.

"I am sorry, Mrs Wentworth," Miss Greene said instantly. "My father sent me in to see if you could receive visitors, since Mr Wentworth thought you might not be able."

Anne introduced her to Mrs Croft and the new babies. Then she finally dared to ask the question. "But why had they wanted to come in here?"

"Oh! I forgot!" Miss Greene exclaimed with a blush. "We had brought some small gifts for Sophy, but my father suggested you and Mrs Croft could divide them."

"Well," said Mrs Croft. "Since Catherine has finished, perhaps you could take her, Anne, and Miss Greene could take Sophy and I shall join you in a quarter of an hour at the most."

Anne was amused but flattered that she was allowed to carry Catherine and that Miss Greene was deemed safe enough only for Sophy. She was sure that with many younger brothers and sisters Miss Greene was far more experienced in holding children than she was. She was therefore not at all surprised to see the girl carry Sophy very expertly. They carried out the two babies and joined the gentlemen.

Dr Greene's children had made some lovely gifts, from needlework to woodwork and a drawing. Anne asked Dr Greene and his daughter to thank them very kindly. It was thoughtful of them to have done this for someone they had never even seen. Except for Miss Greene they had never even seen Edward, if she was not mistaken.

Captain Croft came in from a stroll through the orchard. He had seen the carriage with the visitors, but he was not yet able to run. Dr Greene professed himself delighted to meet a brother-in-law of Mr Wentworth's and said he hoped the captain's injuries were healing well.

"Certainly," said the captain. "I do wonder why they said I might never walk again. I suppose they suspected some injury to the spine, but not being able to walk must have taken care of whatever problem there was in that region. Or Mr Wentworth's sister did. She has amazing powers. She was quite busy after I was injured -- looking after me, selling our belongings and arranging for a passage home -- while I was simply lying there feeling half dead."

Anne could not help biting her lip. He had been simply lying there. The same words had come up in her conversation with Mrs Croft, but that had not been about the captain being half dead at all. On the contrary.

"That sounds very amazing indeed," Dr Greene replied.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to boast," said the captain, as if having an amazing wife reflected very well on himself. "I like her the better for having been in tears for most of the previous week for no reason at all."

"But why did you have to sell your belongings?" asked Edward, who felt his sister was not portrayed very fairly. She had not been in tears all that time, no matter how much her husband liked her for it.

"As passengers we were not entitled to a very large cabin. Besides, what should we be doing with all that colonial clothing and furniture at home? We took only the necessities."

Anne wondered if they were perhaps richer than she had been assuming. They could well be wealthy and still not consider many things necessities. It would be against their characters to demand luxuries. But it meant that the future of a captain was not necessarily bleak, even if he did not have many successes to boast of. She had never heard Captain Croft speak of any. He had certainly been in action, but he did not dwell on it at length. It had made her think his progress was much more unremarkable than that what Frederick had envisaged for himself and that he could not be as rich as Frederick was planning on being. Perhaps she had been wrong. "So you are not very poor?" she inquired after having debated whether it was a polite question.

It merely amused him. "Do I own much? No. Could I own much? Yes."

Anne was sorry she would have to report to Lady Russell that Edward had still not looked twice at Miss Greene, whom he probably still believed to be sixteen. She had spoken to Miss Greene herself and liked her better than the previous time, although the young lady was still in awe of her being married.

Mrs Croft called her a nice girl in Edward's presence, but he blushed when her name was mentioned. "I was too unguarded in my comments in front of her," he explained when he received inquisitive looks. "I said far too much about babies."

"You unguarded? Edward!" laughed his sister. She could not imagine it. "How could you be unguarded? You know too little."

"I do not know. I only know I was unguarded."

"She has eight younger brothers and sisters," said Anne. "I doubt Dr Greene took Amelia to visit his curates every time his wife gave birth."

"Dr Greene is not in the habit of taking her to visit his curates at all," Edward replied very seriously. "I do not know why he brought her here, since the first time she did not even speak and the second time she came for Anne."

"I am sorry to hear you felt slighted, Edward," said the captain.

"I did not!" he protested. "But I am glad to notice Anne has a new friend. I am sure there is nothing wrong with a daughter of Dr Greene's, though she is perhaps a little young for you."

"She is not too young to be my friend." Anne did not yet reveal Miss Greene's age. Perhaps it was more amusing to keep Edward in the dark. "I am only twenty. How old are you exactly yourself, Edward?"

"Still six-and-twenty, but not for long."

He was older than Anne had thought, but given that Frederick was twenty-four, he could not have been very much younger either. She kept discovering things that she had not really thought about before. It was interesting. "Do you think I shall be much wiser when Frederick returns?"

"That is rather unavoidable at your age," said Mrs Croft.

"Shall I not be too wise for him?"

"That is very likely, but perhaps he will not mind," the captain chuckled. "Or do you mean to ask if he will be surprised? If he is, you will know he did not grow very wise."

"That is what I meant -- shall I be different from what he remembers? Will it matter?" She looked a little worried.

"Much more has happened to you than to him. Much more of a different nature, I mean," said Mrs Croft. "His life did not change, while yours did. Rather than worry if you will still appeal to him, you should perhaps reverse the matter: will such a young man still appeal to you?"

"Oh." Anne could not possibly allow for the possibility that she had surpassed Frederick in wisdom.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Posted on Friday, 1 February 2008

Anne had been too busy with her new family to think much of her old. They had not thought much of her in return, for none of them had written. Not even Mary had bothered, although Anne had sent her some details on Sophy's progress. She had not shared those with Elizabeth, who would certainly not care. Mary liked to receive many letters at school because it made her look well-liked, but she rarely bothered to reply very much of interest, so Anne had decided it was no longer her task to supply her.

Anne got along better with Mrs Croft every day. Although they had never truly had problems, Anne had felt wary of her and Mrs Croft herself admitted that she had thought Anne perhaps not strong enough to oppose her brother. A further acquaintance had showed Anne that Mrs Croft did not judge as harshly as she had first assumed and it had shown Mrs Croft that Anne was merely young and inclined to listen to her elders. Frederick might have been too hasty.

"You will be better fitted out for marriage when he comes back," said Mrs Croft.

Anne was pleased. "Do you think so? And Frederick?"

"He cannot possibly have become worse."

She decided to ask the difficult question, in spite of the fact that the answer might not be to her liking. "Did you not think I was too weak for him at first? But were you not also self-effacing when you took care of Captain Croft when he was injured?"

"It took you quite long to point that out," Mrs Croft said in amusement. "We do not like to admit our mistakes and oversights, but that observation is correct. However, I was puzzled by your not having noticed what went on, because when this happened to me my reaction was such that it could not possibly have escaped my husband. However self-effacing I may have been after talking about it is beside the point."

"I do not precisely understand you."

"I did not understand you, because I was squirming in pain. I could not possibly have kept my feelings from my husband even if I had wanted to," Mrs Croft said bluntly, but then she shrugged. "But perhaps if there had not been any pain we should have carried on in a similarly ignorant manner. I ought not to have been so distrusting. I ought to have remembered how very ignorant we were ourselves."

"Really?" Anne liked that. She hoped she did not sound too pleased, for of course she was sorry that Mrs Croft had squirmed.

"I can even attest to the existence of ignorant captains." There was a slight smile.

Anne supposed it did not become a real smile because Mrs Croft also knew captains who were not at all ignorant. She had gathered as much herself from everyone's reactions and she did not need it stressed another time. Mrs Croft's not doing so was therefore much appreciated.

She had too much faith in Frederick to doubt his ignorance. For a moment she wondered if he had been so upset with her because he had, contrary to her, realised what they had done at some point before their final conversation. But that did not fit with her image either, for he would surely have mentioned it and that he had not done.

"We shall not know until he comes back," she said to remind herself. "But where will you be? Will you live with the captain's relatives forever?"

"We can afford our own home, though we should wait for James to recover some more. I cannot take him around the country looking through homes. He does not walk well enough." She looked a little regretful. She would prefer her own house.

"It would be difficult to search with two infants as well. Either he must go alone or you must wait." Speaking of houses made her remember something. "My father suggested a nearby house to Lady Russell, but she does not want to take it unless he pays for the repairs, which he said he would do and which she does not believe."

"Do you?" There had been something in Anne's voice to make her doubt.

"I do not know. I am not the one bearing the costs if he forsakes, so my opinion does carry any weight anyhow. He was not kind when I first told him of my condition, so I am inclined to distrust his sudden change of heart, but I ought not think that of him." She looked doubtful. He was her father and she must not think ill of him. She must certainly not speak ill of him to someone else.

"I am sorry to hear he was not kind."

Anne continued. "Since Lady Russell was living at Kellynch Lodge, I am not sure what to think of my father's wanting to relocate her. Were we too near? He did not visit Sophy until she was two months old." Although she was glad he had come eventually, it had been very late.

"I should not have expected much more from James' father if we had not planned to travel there," Mrs Croft soothed. He was now forced to see the twins, but she doubted that he would have come over to see them if they had been elsewhere. "Old men are simply not much into small babies, I think."

"But my father is not an old man!" Anne was a little shocked on her father's behalf. He was a handsome man, neither young nor old.

Mrs Croft had never met Sir Walter, so she did not know what he looked like. Anne's shock amused her. "He is a grandfather. Call that an older man, if you wish."

"I was very eager for someone to tell me how beautiful she was," Anne revealed. "My family seemed the most likely to do so. I was very silly, but I could not help it. Lady Russell had first wanted me to give her up, you see. But how could I have given her up? I was very glad I was allowed to keep her."

Mrs Croft would not have liked to give up her twins. She could only imagine living with the prospect. "Why did she change her mind?"

Anne wondered how she could explain it without being unfair towards her godmother. "Because she is very proper, yet she is discovering that being very proper is sometimes not the best course of action."

Here Mrs Croft nodded. "Yes, she struck me as quite proper. She wanted James to go away during the birth because she believed that was how it was done everywhere, but she could not explain why it was. Therefore he stayed and he was very useful, because he is a lot more hardened than she is. Being proper would not at all have been the best course of action."

"But she is very sweet if she does not insist on being proper." Anne believed her good qualities outweighed that one thing, which was not even a bad quality in itself. Life was very complicated.

"She does appear to have been very good to you. You were very lucky that she wanted to take care of you -- at the expense of her own peace of mind at times."

"Yes," Anne said slowly. "I do not fully grasp how ruined I should have been if she had not helped me and perhaps I never shall because I have not experienced it. But I should be more grateful and not be in her way. I was now; she was loath to leave me alone with Edward because of what people would think, although she had to visit her sister. But you would say I should not try not to be in her way."

"I advocate compromises, not submission. Although I agreed with her that leaving Edward alone with you would have given rise to gossip. Do people not think Sophy is Edward's child?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "Edward believes that he will not look at women until he has the money to marry and that other people also believe that he will not. It is quite sad that he is probably correct in both instances."

Mrs Croft could not stop laughing.

Since Captain Croft had limped towards the village green with his crutches, he now talked of getting himself examined and approved for active service again. It was a great object with him to be useful again, although at present he did not yet feel any longing to be at sea in particular. Mrs Croft tried to persuade him that limping to the green and back was hardly indicative of an ability to be useful on board. She would much rather keep him home if she could not go with him. Anne and Edward were frequently requested to support the arguments of either side, but their tactful responses were not appreciated.

Anne hoped they would not be upset with each other, although she understood that for the captain it was a matter of principle and self-confidence, and not an actual wish to leave his wife struggling with two infants on her own. She also understood that for Mrs Croft it was not about the struggling, but about being without him.

Edward was growing a little tired of it all. "Was it to go forth and multiply? Or to go forth and board a ship with cannons?"

Even witty remarks coming from Edward could not faze the captain. "The Admiralty would say it was the latter."

"Protecting your offspring is secondary to producing that offspring. You are not unfit for your main task, as you have proven."

"That is not very fair to those who cannot have children. You call them unfit for their main task," Mrs Croft objected. She had until recently been childless and she still sympathised. "Do you go around your parish telling childless people they are living without a purpose? It is not a person's main task! It is a possible consequence of living."

"I will not get into such a debate with you, Sophia," an alarmed Edward said hurriedly. He was clever enough to understand he might have touched a raw nerve in his frustration.

"Because you know you will lose!" she cried.

Anne had been more amused than alarmed until then. The discussion between the Crofts had never really been in danger of escalating because there had always been a humorous undertone and Mrs Croft had never raised her voice. That she did so now was a sign of danger. "He meant no harm..." She had understood what Edward had intended to say, even if Mrs Croft chose to misunderstand him. That the captain could not yet sail did not mean he was a lesser man. That was all. She looked concerned.

"He knows nothing of life."

Edward had stuck to not wanting to get into a debate with her and he did therefore not react to anything that was said about him. Anne was glad he did not. She was equally glad that the captain stopped pouting about not being able to go back to sea.

Edward took his brother-in-law out for games in the tavern after that little storm had blown over. They promptly stayed away for hours. Captain Croft declared that the landlubbers were not as bad as he had imagined and that they had played some good games. The ladies were pleased to hear it and they encouraged them again on the next occasion.

Anne felt like an old married lady, sitting with Mrs Croft, whom she now called Sophia, and thinking exactly alike on the matter. She had often overheard such women talking at evening parties, yet she could not identify with them in other matters in the least. "I am sure I am too young to be thinking it is good for them to be out amusing themselves," she said doubtfully. "And I am not even married to either of them."

"You need not be old or married. You simply need to be sensible."

It had been a long time since anybody had called her sensible. It must have been before Frederick. She said nothing.

Sophia was as restless as her husband ashore. Although she did not begrudge him his outing, she was eager for some excitement of her own. Her eyes sparkled. "We could do with some amusement ourselves. Shall we go beyond the village green and the tavern?"

"What about the girls?"

"They stay here."

"Leave Sophy here?" It was unthinkable to Anne to go somewhere without her, yet Sophia seemed to have no qualms about leaving her even smaller babies with the nursery maid in pursuit of her own amusement.

"Not this Sophy. We feed them before we set off and we can never be gone very long."

After Anne had been persuaded they had gone beyond the green indeed and they had stayed away for more than an hour. They had very scandalously taken off their stockings and shoes and dangled their feet in the stream, which had been very refreshing. After this they had missed their girls and worried about them, so they had hurried back.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Posted on Monday, 4 February 2008

Three weeks had soon passed and it first brought them Lady Russell, who had enjoyed her stay with her sister but who had nonetheless been concerned about how her children fared in her absence. She arrived to find them all in good health. Just when she was admiring the growth of the littlest ones, the captain's brother returned. For a day it was still crowded in the parsonage, but the next day all the Crofts left for the coast.

Although Anne was happy that Lady Russell had returned, she was sorry to see her new friends and relatives leave. They promised to correspond, but Anne had felt quite useful helping Sophia with her babies and that would now all come to an end.

The summer was drawing to a close and Sir Walter had still not presented Lady Russell with a written contract. He had condescended to come to Monkford to persuade her to return to Kellynch Lodge. If this was because of gossip, he did not say so. People might think it strange that he had banned both Lady Russell and his daughter, no matter the slight scandal that surrounded her elopement, and he might think their return would undo any rumours.

Lady Russell had replied that she would have to confer with Anne. If she was honest she would prefer to return rather than set up a new household in some ruin. She hoped she was not too selfish for wanting an easy life again. Anne, fortunately, did not object to Kellynch Lodge, although she thought it might be unkind of them to leave Edward.

This had necessitated a consultation of Edward, who pointed out that they would be very near and that he would certainly visit. For his part he hoped he was not being selfish if he was looking forward to uninterrupted studying again.

After everybody's wishes had been consulted and their selfish feelings discussed, Lady Russell made up her mind. They would move back. Sir Walter's conciliatory gesture should not be spurned.

Sir Walter had become a grandfather, but he refused to think of himself as such. He was merely a man whose daughter happened to have a child. It had, however, made him realise he was still youngish and that he could do what Anne had done, if only to prove he was indeed still youngish. After a few disappointments in the past he had not seriously thought of remarrying, but the desire to prove himself grew stronger.

He had settled on Lady Russell as the object of his desires. She was at hand and she was known to acquiesce, which was an advantage, but he was furthermore acquainted with her physical imperfections well enough to know he would be able to live with them. He had seen them every day. That reddish hair could not be helped, but on a good day it almost appeared brown. He trusted that if she was his wife he could persuade her to use Gowland's, which would do wonders for her complexion. Sometimes he espied a freckle.

Elizabeth could furthermore not have any objections to Lady Russell; she was already used to giving her consequence. That she might not like to do so every day did not occur to him.

Whether Lady Russell could provide him with an heir was a greater uncertainty, although Sir Walter reasoned it away easily. Sir Henry Russell had not had any sons by her, but as he had been a middle-aged man at the time and boring to boot, he had very likely not even tried.

Such a proposal shocked Lady Russell very much and she had no intention of accepting, although she had expressed her gratitude. Ladies were not expected to accept instantly; thankfully a few days' respite was common and she could consult Anne about this very strange plan.

"Your father has asked me to marry him."

Anne was astonished. "Why? Oh, I am sorry. I meant, does he love you?" She had never seen any evidence of particular affection.

"I am sure he does not. I certainly do not love him. I think. I cannot imagine doing or saying any of the things I have seen and heard people in love do and say. I have no idea why he has conceived of this plan!" she cried. "And what is worse, he wants me to bear him a son, even though he may have red hair."

Anne doubled up with laughter. "The poor boy!"

"I have never felt any ill consequences of my hair colour," Lady Russell said sternly. "Besides, I am barren and I told him so."

"Like that?" Anne was surprised at her mother's bluntness.

"In more tactful terms, naturally, but he refused to accept it. Said that Sir Henry was too old to have tried! He was not older than your father is now. I was quite shocked and did not say a word. For a gentleman to state so clearly what his purpose is in marrying is --" She shook her head. "And to think nothing of it!"

"If you do not love him, you should refuse. What did he propose would happen to me if you married him? Should I get Kellynch Lodge all by myself?" Anne was only just twenty and she did not think she would enjoy that. This made her wonder what she would have done if she had got married. Presumably she would have lived alone then as well. Alone with Sophy.

It would have been doubly difficult to live alone for the first time and to have a child she had to learn about. Elizabeth had always assumed the more interesting responsibilities of the lady of the house and although Anne had always observed her mother and sister, hers would be quite different in a smaller home with fewer servants. She would have fewer than even Edward and she would have to do many things herself, some that a baronet's daughter had never been taught to do. Hopefully she would have mastered a few of them before Frederick returned.

"He did not say what would happen to you," said Lady Russell. "He really did not think this over very well. How do I politely decline?"

"Without making him angry? You are asking the wrong person," Anne said dryly. She wondered when she had become capable of speaking of it without bursting into tears. Such indifference had crept in very gradually.

Lady Russell had refused Sir Walter and persuaded him to look elsewhere. It had had no consequences, for she had still been allowed to return to Kellynch Lodge with Anne and Sophy. Elizabeth liked it very little, but her only option had been to be cold and unwelcoming. Her father still had the last word.

The autumn brought some inclement weather, but there were now more indoor engagements. Quite often Anne and Lady Russell were invited to the large house. Although she was grateful she was accepted again, it pained her to leave Sophy with her nursery maid every time because her father did not like infants at his parties. It was very odd that he did not, although Anne could not admit to having seen another example anywhere before.

She made sure to visit Edward at least once a week so he could continue to see Sophy. He seemed much more interested in her with some time between visits than he had been when she lived in his house, Anne noted. Perhaps Sophy also became more interesting to him now that she could hold toys. Uncle Wentworth frequently bought her one.

Sophia wrote as frequently as she had promised. She was such an amusing correspondent that Anne was sorry that she hardly had anything entertaining to report herself. The captain was aparently busier exercising his muscles than looking for a house, which frustrated his wife. She did not understand why it was necessary to be able to run up and down the beach before they could go out to look for a new place to live. Anne understood that he was doing well and she was glad for that, although she hoped that in time he would come to see that his wife liked living there much less than he did.

The twins continued to grow as well -- they had smiled and stuck out their tongues -- and Sophia's letters gradually ceased to contain desperate questions. Anne had at first been sorry that she could no longer help in person -- it had made her rather proud of herself -- but she did not want to be valued for that alone.

Thankfully Lady Russell valued her without needing much advice -- that one time about Sir Walter's proposal had been an exception -- and this had given Anne some confidence as well. She was no longer a silly girl to whom something unfortunate had happened because she had been misled. Such pity seemed to have disappeared entirely from Lady Russell's thoughts. The pity and the lectures were behind her completely. They had to be, of course, since she was supposedly properly married and the only thing she could be lectured on now was on the impropriety of eloping to Scotland without her father's permission. However, after Sir Walter's apparent blessing nobody would expect it anymore.

The only people who inquired after her husband were others, but she could not tell them much. Some had met him and might genuinely be interested in his whereabouts, but she could only say that he was at sea and that no, he did not know about Sophy. Almost everybody had an opinion as to what he would think if he heard, but since all these were women, she did not know if they were any good at predicting a new father's reaction. They had never been in the same boat themselves.

Edward had been kind enough to get her several publications in which she might find news of Frederick and together with her father's newspapers -- which she stealthily read a day after he received them -- she was tolerably well-informed about naval movements around the world. Frederick's ship was mentioned only once, but she had read that particular passage about a hundred times. He had captured a prize and his ship had sustained only insignificant damage. There was no word about his crew, but she assumed no harm had come to any of them. This was good and she was delighted to have a positive sign of life.

"What is ailing you, Harville?" Captain Wentworth inquired. He was excited himself. They were chasing a ship they had correctly identified as French due to her course and they were going to take it. All was right in the world, yet there was no excitement in Harville's face. He looked rather gloomy.

"I miss my wife."

"What? Now?" It was incomprehensible to him that someone should be thinking of one's wife just when something highly exciting was about to happen. Harville's helpless visage told him that the man indeed now thinking of his wife. Captain Wentworth had not even known there was a Mrs Harville. "You have not mentioned her before."

"Not to you, Captain, since you display little interest in our family situations."

The captain winced. He had avoided such conversations indeed, afraid as he was that they would somehow ask him something in return. Apparently he had been too cautious, for they had noticed his reticence. But, he told himself, if he was an indifferent sort of man he would never have asked Harville what was on his mind. It was not his character, but he had a good reason to be cautious.

"I was married shortly before I left," Harville continued. "I still have plenty to speak about."

"I am sorry I did not give you the opportunity." Wentworth tried to smile. He knew what was due to a newly-married man, even if the marriage had taken place the year before. "Congratulations on your marriage. But why the gloom?"

"You may despise me, Captain, but I have not yet made enough of a fortune to leave her a widow."

"You do not trust me with regard to that French ship over there."

"It is a frigate." And frigates were rather larger than their own ship. Chasing it -- engaging it -- was a great risk, but the captain had shown himself very fond of such risks.

"Your wife will not be a widow, Harville. If anybody takes aim at you, hide behind me. I have nobody to live for."

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