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Chapter One

Posted on 2008-12-20

The year had finally come. Lady Elliot, who had her sources, knew that Sir Walter's finances were in a greater state of peril than ever before. For years she had been promoting moderation and economy, checking his extravagance, and she had managed tolerably well to keep her husband just within his income, but then the girls had grown up and their expenses had grown with them. Lady Elliot had cautioned her family first and then dropped hints about the impending disgrace, but it had fallen on deaf ears.

Her middle daughter Anne was the only one who listened to her, but since she was not a natural spender and there was nothing to economise in her habits, the effect of her cooperation was too insignificant to make a difference. Her youngest daughter Mary's marriage had cost them a fair amount, but it was her eldest daughter's Lizzy's marriage and return home that had been the main problem.

Lizzy had always hated being called Lizzy, which she had to be with a mother bearing the same name, and she delighted in being Mrs Elliot now. She took very much after her father. She had married his heir, a distant cousin by the name of William Walter Elliot, and was one day going to succeed her mother as Lady Elliot. That this day had not yet come was a detail she frequently overlooked. After all, she had produced a male heir and her mother had not.

Lady Elliot had always attempted to instil good principles in her daughters and she had been proud of her efforts to soften any failings nature had given them, but when Lizzy married it all turned out to have been for naught. Whether it was nature, her husband or her mother's influence suddenly coming to an end, Lady Elliot did not know, but she had been pained to see the change in her eldest.

Since Lizzy had seemed to like the man, her parents had encouraged the match. Mr Elliot had been a fine young gentleman and nothing could have been better for Lizzy, but it had not turned out as well as they had thought. As soon as Lizzy had produced an heir, her husband's affections had cooled and he spent a lot of time in town on business. She liked town, but not when her husband was not yet anyone of consequence and thus she preferred to stay at Kellynch when he did not need her. As Sir Walter's eldest daughter she could be important there.

Besides, Sir Walter was fond of little Walter. He had in fact two grandsons named Walter, something that had caused no little animosity between Lizzy and Mary, but his own heir was more special to him than the Musgrove heir.

The way Lizzy's marriage had turned out had made Lady Elliot glad for Mary's. Charles Musgrove, her husband, was a good young man who stood to inherit his father's estate. Mary could not have done any better. Although she often complained, her mother believed that she would complain about any sort of man.

Only Anne was not married, but Lady Elliot was especially happy she had prevented that. Anne had once been engaged, briefly, to a young naval officer without connections or fortune, before her mother had talked some sense into her. The engagement, which had come into existence before her mother had expected any deeper feelings, had been broken off. Anne had been nineteen, too young and too good to give up everything. Frederick Wentworth had had nothing but charm.

Lady Elliot observed with some concern that nobody had come along since then in whom Anne had been even remotely interested. Although her mother believed Anne was better off unmarried than being trapped in a marriage to a sailor with an uncertain future, it was obvious that Anne had come to disagree. Her pretty looks had faded, she had grown thinner and quieter, but she never said a word about it.

This silent unhappiness had made Lady Elliot unhappy as well, but there was nothing she could do. Other men had not touched Anne's heart as the captain apparently had, but she had not touched his. He had never been back.

Just as Lady Elliot had seen her daughter's unhappiness, her daughter had seen hers. Anne was the sweetest and most perceptive of the three. Although her children and grandchildren gave her much joy, Lady Elliot was sure that her middle daughter knew that Sir Walter was the sort of husband who kept her frustrated rather than delighted -- but he was at times quite manageable.

"We need to retrench," she said when he came to her rooms on the first of April. The blazing fires in his private chambers had long been a source of vexation to her. They were unnecessary. Telling him so had not had any effect, for he believed they were very necessary indeed.

As she mentioned retrenching far too often to his liking, Sir Walter scoffed. "In this matter too? My dear Elizabeth, this costs no money."

"Precisely. I am glad you are so perceptive, Walter. This costs no money and makes one quite warm, would you not say?" Lady Elliot, who had long ago given up lighting the fires in her rooms, quite enjoyed it.

He did not see her point. "Why then would you want me to retrench in this matter? I am adhering strictly to what my father indicated was gentlemanly. I am not aware of exceeding my income here, so to speak. Retrenching would be contrary to the duties of a gentleman."

"Quite," she agreed. For twenty-five or perhaps thirty years, Sir Walter had adhered strictly to the first of the month. Perhaps she should have mentioned retrenching sooner and discovered that it was his father's schedule and not his own, but she had always been a lady. However, being a lady had accomplished very little and it was time for a little less delicacy. "It is time you listened to your wife now. Your father has long been dead."

"Wives, my father said, would not even like once a year. I do not think --"

"Quite, you do not think he was right and he was not," she nodded. "I have a proposition for you, Walter. You come here every night and the fires in your rooms are never lit again. You will have no need for them, being warm."

"Every night?" he cried.

"You may simply lie here if you are not up to any activity every night," she soothed. "I can make allowances for your age. But the fires stay out. Wives do indeed not like even once a year if those fires are lit once again."

Anne knew about their precarious financial situation and her father's complete obliviousness to the consequences. Her sister's staying with them made it only worse. Lizzy continuously exceeded her own allowance and needed extra money for items Anne would never have dared to purchase.

Her mother had sometimes dropped hints to her sister, but since Lizzy had married that was all to no avail. As a married woman she did not have to listen, but she could do as she liked. Although her father listened to his wife and was resolved to be firm, Lizzy always managed to persuade him to be weak. Of his three daughters she was most like him, handsome and vain, and her power over him had always been great.

To his wife's soft-spoken warning in the summer that they really needed to cut down their expenses now and that she had drawn up a plan, Sir Walter had reacted with indignant indifference. Apparently he had thought about her words nevertheless, for he had sent for his agent, Mr Shepherd.

Mr Shepherd would rather not be the considered the evil genius behind a plan that would humble Sir Walter even to a very small extent and he referred him to his wife, in whose plans he had the utmost faith. Lady Elliot, he knew, was a sensible woman.

Lady Elliot had consulted two people, her daughter Anne and her close friend Lady Russell, who lived nearby. They had set to work very seriously and together they had drawn up a plan. If all of them adhered to these directions, Sir Walter would be free from debts in seven years. They would have been more rigorous, but they knew his character.

Lady Russell especially had a value for rank and consequence that made her suggestions less severe than Sir Walter deserved. It would be too much of a hardship for him to compromise his dignity by all too strict measures, but it could have been done in two years, as Anne had calculated. The time for too much indulgence for his vanity and pride was long past, however, when hinting had proved ineffective.

Mr Shepherd listened and said nothing, until Sir Walter exclaimed that he might as well leave Kellynch Hall entirely -- these measures would not allow him to live here in a manner that could be borne. Mr Shepherd saw more possibilities in Sir Walter's quitting the house than in his staying and he was glad the baronet mentioned it himself.

Here Mr Shepherd was really indebted to Lady Elliot, who had planted the seed of this idea. "If you stay here, Walter," she had said, "you will have to change your habits considerably and live on a smaller scale." This was exactly what she had always urged and which he had failed to do. He would fail again.

"It is impossible to live on a smaller scale at Kellynch," Sir Walter had retorted, but he feared she would think it very possible indeed. The first of her measures, though adopted in the privacy of their apartments, was indication enough. After depriving him of his own bed, she would start on his clothes and toiletries.

"And people would talk -- about your no longer having enough horses to pull a carriage and such things."

"My dear Lady Elliot, I could not possibly do without a carriage." The notion was too preposterous for him to consider.

"You would not be able to afford the horses if you remained here, yet what would people say? If you moved to a cheaper place, however, you could keep a few horses and people would be none the wiser about the measures you adopted in private. You would not lose consequence."

"What are you suggesting?" he had asked suspiciously.

"You need to reduce your expenses. To a large extent this could already be achieved by moving to a cheaper house with fewer servants." Lady Elliot imagined a small house, only a small portion of the space they currently had to heat, light and clean. They would be needing so much less of everything.

Options were explored. London, Bath or another house in the country were the three possibilities. Sir Walter was for London, Mr Shepherd for Bath and Lady Elliot was for the country. There were three secondary votes for each location, as Lizzy supported the idea of London, Lady Russell liked Bath and Anne would really like to stay in the country.

These three voices did not all bear an equal weight in Sir Walter's opinion, however. Lizzy, although she was married and she was no real part of his household, had the right arguments in favour of London. He would be near her and little Walter and he would be able to move in the society to which he was used. This society was lacking in the country. Besides, people here would be quite severe on him if they were received in very small rooms.

Sir Walter liked Bath too, but not as well as London, although Lady Russell's reasoning was as sound as always. Houses were smaller in Bath, but at least the assembly rooms there were places where one could be seen without embarrassment. It was fashionable to live in Bath and no one would suspect he was doing it to save money.

The idea of another house in the country came last with him, in spite of the fact that it was the wish of his dear wife. He would not like a house unless it was equal to Kellynch, but they would undoubtedly tell him he could not afford it. He imagined moving into something like Kellynch Lodge and shuddered.

At last Bath was chosen. Mr Shepherd and Lady Elliot, who each had their reasons for preferring Sir Walter to be settled there rather than in London, were relieved. Bath was conveniently close to Kellynch and Lady Russell was in the habit of spending much time there in the winter. Lady Elliot liked to be near her friend.

Anne would have preferred a house in the neighbourhood, but she was used to not getting her way. She could nevertheless not help but voice as much displeasure as she believed reasonable. "I do not think I shall like Bath," she said to her mother.

"Why not? You need not compare it to that winter we spent there with Lady Russell," said her mother. "You were not in good spirits then. I should have preferred a house here as well, but I cannot say I dislike Bath. It will be much easier to keep your father within his income there."

Anne forced a smile and submitted. Perhaps she would not like to see who came to live at Kellynch, now that it was decided it would be let. She might not be able to bear seeing her home in the hands of others. Her disinclination for Bath was natural, said her mother and Lady Russell, since she had so little been away from home. Considering that she had accompanied her family to London every year, she wondered how well-travelled one must be before one was allowed to dislike Bath.

She had always come to London to keep her mother company. Lady Elliot could not stay behind if Sir Walter went and neither could Anne, but she was the one who had always derived the least enjoyment from their trips. Her mother had her acquaintances, her father had his, but she had very few.

"Bath will do you good," her mother urged. "Society is much more varied there. You need to see more people. You need to be known by more."

More men, Anne presumed. She gave her mother a wry smile. "I can be of more use here. I shall feel very useless in Bath."

"There are poor people in Bath too -- and the tenants will forgive you. I am speaking of acquaintances."

"I am content to look after little Walter," Anne protested. Lizzy was always content to leave her son to her sister or mother and Anne had never minded to give up engagements for his sake. "Or look after Charles and Walter if Mary is ill." Mary and Lizzy vied for her attention when it came to looking after their children and as a consequence Anne never lacked for anything to do.

"Would you not like one of your own? That is not going to happen if you never leave Kellynch."

"I am not opposed to it," she assured her mother. "I merely think that the usual type of gentlemen we meet while being away from home are not likely to win me over."

"I did not know there was a usual type," Lady Elliot said with a smile.

Anne believed that the sensible ones would talk to her father only briefly, not long enough to be introduced to her, but she could not say so without giving her mother some pain. Long ago her mother had married the usual type. She did not think she was more discerning than her mother, but in this particular case she very much hoped she was.

Chapter Two

Posted on 2008-12-24

Mr Shepherd did not leave them long in suspense. He had been quick to find a prospective tenant, an admiral. He had mentioned the navy once before to test the waters and Sir Walter had not liked the idea, but Anne could not help her admiration for the profession. She had been glad that her mother had encouraged Mr Shepherd to investigate all possibilities, navy or otherwise.

Anne told herself it had nothing to do with her experiences with the only naval officer she had personally known, but that she merely had a great respect for their exploits and sacrifices. More than any other class of men they deserved such respect and unlike her father she was not horrified at the prospect of Kellynch passing into the hands of a sailor.

Mr Shepherd had met an admiral at Taunton who had happened to mention that he was looking for a house. Mr Shepherd's knowing of such a house had prompted him to suggest Kellynch, for which he excused himself profusely to Sir Walter, and the admiral had been interested.

Sir Walter was of the opinion that an admiral was still an admiral, something nobody could refute, and bound to be ugly. Anne had never seen her mother look so exasperated. Her father's refusal to advertise had been a source of concern to her mother and if he started to refuse tenants on account of their being ugly, she could not vouch for her mother's temper.

While Sir Walter ranted about admirals and sailors, Anne shared a look with her mother. "This is good," she whispered. "Some admirals are very wealthy. If he is interested and he can afford it, we shall have to look no further."

"I am glad someone was told. How are people to find out about Kellynch otherwise?" Lady Elliot whispered back. "And I have never been more glad for Mr Shepherd's duplicity."

Anne looked startled.

"I am sure he is not entirely honest with your father. Why should admirals who are looking for houses speak to Mr Shepherd?"

"I agree that is too much of a coincidence." She wondered if Mr Shepherd had been actively looking for admirals. By speaking with her mother she had missed some part of the conversation on the other side of the room. Perhaps he had explained himself.

"I have seen Mrs Croft too," she could just hear Mr Shepherd tell her father.

The first descriptions of Mrs Croft did not register, but then she realised that Mrs Croft's husband was Admiral Croft and his name was very familiar to her. Anne listened to the rest of Mr Shepherd's descriptions with anxious interest.

"She sounds excellent," said Lady Elliot, who had begun to listen when she saw that Anne did. The report about Mrs Croft's character, although she had not heard all of it, relieved her. A genteel lady, conversant with business -- she confessed she liked that a good deal better in a successor than some fashionable beauty who had no idea how to take care of a house. Mr Shepherd, a man, would have mentioned her beauty had there been any. He knew what would appeal to Sir Walter.

"And like the admiral, she is not unconnected in this country, I found," Mr Shepherd spoke on. "She has a brother who lived among us once."

Anne was aware of that. She braced herself. The name of the brother ought to inspire some reaction in her father.

"He had the curacy of Monkford. I forget his name." Mr Shepherd looked at Sir Walter for assistance, but the latter's face was absolutely blank.

"Mr Wentworth," Lady Elliot supplied. She shot a quick look at Anne.

"Thank you, yes! Mr Wentworth it was. You may remember him, Sir Walter."

It was clear that Mr Wentworth had not been important enough to deserve being remembered by Sir Walter and so Mr Shepherd mentioned him no more. He preferred instead to persuade Sir Walter as to the desirability of the Crofts as tenants.

Anne did not listen. She was lost in thought, dwelling on the great coincidence that of all people it had to be his brother-in-law.

"You remember the name, I see," said her mother.

"I wonder that my father does not."

Sir Walter Elliot certainly ought to have remembered the name of Wentworth, since his daughter had briefly been engaged to a man with that name. This had not been the aforementioned curate of Monkford, but his brother, who had been living with him for a while. Frederick Wentworth had been made commander in the navy in consequence of the action off St Domingo and he had not immediately been employed.

Sir Walter had considered Frederick Wentworth unfit for a daughter of his and he would do nothing for the couple when he heard of their intentions, whereupon Lady Elliot could not possibly allow Anne to continue in the engagement. Nothing had been in their favour, except a warm attachment on both sides. But as Lady Elliot knew from experience, warm attachments might cool. If they cooled where there was money, they would cool even sooner where there was not.

And there was no money at all. Frederick had nothing and Anne would not be given anything either. While Sir Walter had not handled it with any grace and he had withheld Anne's money for reasons different from her own, Lady Elliot could not really disagree with him.

Frederick Wentworth had been overly confident, reckless and a spender. Marriage to such a man could only lead to disaster. Lady Elliot had reasoned and pleaded with her daughter, although she had concentrated on his uncertain future and his lack of material assets, and eventually Anne had given in.

Anne regretted it now, she knew, although Anne never spoke to her about it and the last thing Anne would do was resent her interference. Unlike Lizzy, Anne valued the advice of her elders.

Lady Elliot did not know if she regretted it herself; she did not know what had become of Frederick Wentworth. He might be dead, crippled or poor -- and her Anne could have had many children in the intervening years if she had married him. Her first image upon hearing of their engagement had been that of Anne wasting away in poverty with four or five dirty children hanging off her skirts and with a husband at sea or at a tavern. It might have gone like that or it might not, but the risk had been too great.

Anne looked tolerably calm now. There was no reason to suspect she was unsettled by the connection. It was different for her mother. Although having an admiral for a brother-in-law and a genteel lady for a sister did not guarantee very much with regard to Wentworth himself, this was quite an improvement upon merely having a curate for a brother when it came to his connections.

Lady Elliot wondered about Frederick Wentworth. If he had made a little money and held onto it, he might in fact have been a tolerable party. He might, like his brother-in-law, become an admiral once. Unfortunately the idea must remain hypothetical, because he had been refused and he had left. Eight years had passed since then and he had not come back. Either he had not made any money, he had died or his love for Anne had quickly disappeared.

"I hope you will not be against their renting the house, Mama," Anne said in concern. It was not their fault.

"Why should I be?" Lady Elliot had not thought that far ahead yet, but she did not think she would be against it. They were hardly in a position to make too many demands. To reject perfectly good tenants because their brother had once been in love with Anne would be foolish.

"We shall be gone."

She had not yet considered that he might be coming here if his sister rented the house. It was a possibility, of course, but they would indeed be gone. It would not matter. "Yes, we shall be gone."

Anne had never considered Frederick to be in possession of disastrous or dangerous traits. He had been a very handsome young man with a great deal of intelligence, spirit and wit. He had been confident about himself and his future, and unreserved in expressing his confidence. She had been very much in love with him.

She had not at all been in doubt of their happiness, but her mother had been. At nineteen a girl could only believe and obey her mother. She did not regret that she had, nor did she regret that her mother had advised her in this manner, but she did regret that she had met Frederick before any of his predictions had come true. A few years later her mother would not have had to worry.

Anne had read newspapers and navy lists. She had followed him, as much as that was possible from a distance. He had got a ship shortly after their broken engagement and considering how he had distinguished himself, she did not doubt he had become rich.

That his sister might come to live here could only make her remember the bitter pain of the separation and the years that had followed and it took her some days until she was sufficiently hardened to listen to talk about the Crofts.

Save for her mother, no one else seemed to remember Frederick Wentworth and that relieved her. She did not even have any reason to believe Frederick's sister knew, as she had been out of the country at the time. It might be possible to live through this without any awkwardness.

Lizzy and little Walter had gone up to London. The tedious packing required for a move was not to their liking and the move was almost certain to occur. A morning had been appointed for Admiral Croft to see Kellynch Hall, although this was a mere formality because nobody believed he would change his mind upon seeing it. Lady Elliot, at least, had long begun to pack.

She wished she could pack Sir Walter's valet in a box as well and send him to get lost in the mail, since suggesting to her husband that he could not afford the man's services was absolutely out of the question. Sir Walter would not accept it and she was willing to afford him this particular luxury. The man was, she supposed, all that was capable and skilled, but he really suffered change very ill.

Sir Walter's obligatory stay in his wife's rooms had nearly given Phillips an apoplexy, although Lady Elliot considered it more important that Sir Walter himself had not suffered likewise from the arrangement. Phillips, however, had behaved as if staying with one's wife was worse than bringing a mistress into one's rooms.

The man was really quite an odd creature and Lady Elliot regretted that she had not taken any steps sooner to remove Sir Walter from his foppish influence. She had always been a lady and left them to their gentlemanly business, but now some of it struck her as rather odd. Her husband's morning ritual contained some very strange elements, for instance. He could not stir from the bed if he had not first been served a particular tea. He could not be shaved if his face had not first been scrubbed and washed with a particular cream. She had never known these things and it was almost if she were just married again.

Lady Elliot refused to leave the bed so Phillips could serve Sir Walter tea, however, and Phillips had at first refused to serve Sir Walter tea while Lady Elliot was still in the bed. This difficulty had been overcome since April, but it had only been one of many.

On the morning of the Crofts' visit, Sir Walter was quite nervous about appearing to advantage and he had left the bed before the tea. Lady Elliot was all amazement, until she realised he thought he needed more time to be groomed and no time could be lost.

Anne, who always seemed to know things, was up as early as her father, although she visited her mother in a state of undress without being in any particular hurry to make herself pretty. "I heard he left the room."

"Do you listen at keyholes?" Lady Elliot would be unsettled by that. She was even unsettled by the fact that Anne knew he had been here. Now that she thought of it, Anne had not been here very early since April. She must have known.

"I saw Phillips with the tea." Anne seated herself on the bed. "But he went to Papa's apartments. I am quite worried."

"About Phillips?" She would agree. Finding Sir Walter in his own apartments, out of bed without having had tea, was sure to give Phillips a fit. The man's age was a well-kept secret, but surely he was well past sixty? He might not survive. She chastised herself for these uncharitable thoughts.

"No, about the Crofts. I do not think they can know, but what if they do? Perhaps I should not like to meet them." Anne looked anxious.

"You must come along for my sake."

"Why?"

"I may burst with unspeakable comments," said Lady Elliot. "I would rather have you there."

"I shall try," Anne said uncertainly and then after some fidgeting, "do you burst with unspeakable comments during the night as well?"

"Oh, because -- no. During the night I sleep. I suppose it could not hurt to tell you. Well, some of it, as much as is appropriate for you to hear." Anne would never tell her what strange things she was thinking, yet her daughter secretly had a wonderful imagination. If she wanted to retain a shred of dignity she had best reveal some of the truth.

"If not all is, perhaps you had better not attempt to tell me anything," Anne said hurriedly.

"Your father has at least three fires blazing all day in his apartments. He would not change his ways when I asked him, so I changed his ways for him. I told him to sleep in my room and leave his fires out."

Anne looked properly suspicious. "That makes no sense, because you do not often light your fire."

"Another person is as good as a hot water bottle."

"But are the fires not for when he is up? A warmer waistcoat should help him more in that case."

"Warmer waistcoats make him look fat, or so he says," Lady Elliot said dryly. She was amused by her daughter's sensible answer. "My dear Anne, do you not think I have tried it all? I finally hit upon the one thing that works. It has several unforeseen benefits, I find, so I am not going to give it up. It has been working since April. It was a brilliant stroke of luck, but it does of course not get us out of debt."

Anne was worried. "Are you sure you are not sacrificing too much to save too little?"

"I am not sacrificing a thing. I should have done this thirty years ago, but," she said with a regretful smile, "there are things one can say after thirty years of marriage that one could never say after thirty days."

"I am glad you are not sacrificing anything," Anne mumbled. "But you would probably think lightly of it if you were."

"Well...husbands are not omnipotent creatures," Lady Elliot said in a stern voice. "Do remember that when we go to Bath to find you a husband. And always remember you must keep an eye on the man twenty-four hours a day. Being shy and accommodating will not serve you well. Not going into his apartments out of respect will only allow him to develop ridiculous routines and habits that will be difficult to correct. Do not assume you should leave your husband to the care of his valet because you know nothing about men. Sly, not shy."

"Is there not such a thing as male pride?" Anne did not think she could be so forceful.

Lady Elliot made a dismissive gesture. "Male pride is not as strong as male interest in females."

"I shall have to choose a husband who does not need to be corrected," Anne replied a little bewilderedly. "Because I do not think I could tell a husband what to do, nor behave wantonly to get him to do my bidding."

Her mother choked. "My dear Anne, I have never behaved wantonly."

"I could not imagine it of you."

Lady Elliot was glad for her daughter's faith in her. She would say she was still more shy than sly, but even the nicest woman had her limits. "Let us concentrate on the day. I should like you to be present. We shall dress up nicely and hope the Crofts are not in any doubt."

Chapter Three

Posted on 2008-12-28

Anne had doubted until the last moment, but her mother kept such a close eye on her that she could not slip away. The Crofts were punctual. She was curious about them and she was in fact glad that her mother had forced her to attend. They looked a little weather-beaten, which was to be expected, but they were otherwise perfectly healthy-looking and well-dressed.

Mrs Croft fell to them, as Sir Walter really only addressed the admiral, whatever Mr Shepherd did. Anne had the feeling that Mrs Croft would rather hear more about the terms and conditions, and that the admiral would like her to hear it as well, but that she would think it uncivil to leave the ladies of the house alone.

Anne had not detected any recognition in Mrs Croft's face when they were introduced and she trusted that neither Frederick nor his brother had ever breathed a syllable of the engagement, or even of her, to their sister. This relieved her and she could listen to Mrs Croft with curiosity and interest instead of anxiety. The lady had an agreeable face and an intelligent look in her dark eyes that Anne liked. She was not afraid of speaking and when she did, she was sensible and polite.

The admiral, with whom Anne had less personal interaction, seemed a good-humoured man. He was as polite as his wife, but more inclined to make jokes. Most of those, she was sorry to see, were not picked up by her father. As the admiral did not intend to amuse anyone except himself, he was not at all dissuaded by Sir Walter's lack of comprehension and he simply continued in the same vein.

Lady Elliot, for her part, was happy to find she would not have to fear for her home. The couple did not seem to want for money or sense, they were of an age to be steady and responsible, and they lived just as happily in a large home as they did on a small ship.

There was a small doubt that Sir Walter might not consider them fashionable enough to inhabit his home, but that was quickly dismissed. Sir Walter would not like his tenants to be more fashionable than himself, so if their appearance preserved the distinction of rank he would be quite pleased. At any rate, he appeared to be as happy with them as his wife. Having got out of bed before his tea had not affected him adversely.

Because the Crofts agreed to all conditions and even declared themselves capable of moving in by Michaelmas, the Elliots had no option but to pack very speedily and look for a house in Bath.

Anne was glad that Lizzy was not involved in choosing a house. It was wholly up to her mother and father and it did not take long. Settling on a neighbourhood was easy, even a street, and then it was a matter of seeing which houses were free.

Anne was to go with her parents. Lady Elliot insisted, even if Mary was beginning to complain about the removal of the two people she relied on most when it came to helping her with her little boys. If her mother and sister were both gone, she would not know how to manage if she fell ill.

There were enough Musgroves, in Lady Elliot's opinion, and there was nothing wrong with them. Mary resented the interference of her mother-in-law because she was merely Mrs Musgrove and not the wife of a baronet, but this was silly. Lady Elliot liked her grandsons herself, but she was not going to stay here in case Mary fell ill -- which she as a healthy young woman would not do. There were enough people around and Mrs Musgrove was certainly qualified to give Mary advice after her own dozen children.

As for Anne, Lady Elliot would certainly not allow her to stay. The girl needed to come to Bath. She was twenty-seven and not married. They could wait forever for deserving young men to come to Kellynch, but it was less and less likely to happen.

Anne herself did not think she would enjoy Bath better than staying with Mary. She would be more useful at Uppercross, but more entertained in Bath. Her enjoyment would be about equal.

Lady Elliot had discussed houses with Lady Russell, who had spent more time in Bath than they had. Sir Walter knew the fashionable streets, but Lady Russell knew which ones were actually affordable. Lady Elliot had outlined her wishes to her and Mr Shepherd, but only Lady Russell dared to question her about those.

"A bachelor's house?" Lady Russell inquired. "But you are a family. Are you not taking Anne?"

"We are taking Anne. There should be a room for Anne. What there should not be..." She hesitated. "We are seriously trying to reduce our expenses. Walter has promised me his best. I do not want for our attempts to be thwarted by Lizzy. She is my daughter only when it suits her. It suits her to spend our money, but it does not suit her to listen to me."

Lady Elliot felt she was ungenerous and inhospitable, but she had no choice. If Lizzy came to Bath, she would stay indefinitely. She would bring little Walter and two servants, and she would think that her parents' cheaper style of living meant more money for her to spend. If they were really not in luck, she would bring Mr Elliot too. It was difficult to get rid of family; it was better not to give them the opportunity to stay in the first place.

Lady Russell wished she could think of a better way to handle Lizzy. "She may be angry."

"She can still visit, but she will have to stay at a hotel. I have to be firm. Two family bedrooms or four. It makes a difference, I have seen. Do not forget that we shall be taking more servants than I should like."

"I have two rooms. I shall make inquiries into other houses in the street. It would be nice to have you so near. What about Sir Walter? Is he likely to make trouble?"

"Of course Walter will not make any significant trouble. He may simply splutter somewhat," Lady Elliot said confidently. His spluttering was not dangerous. "Have you not noticed anything about him?"

"I noticed something about you."

"Oh?"

"You are happy to be taking measures finally. There is a weight off your shoulders."

"Yes, there is and --" Lady Elliot hesitated. "Has Walter not struck you as improved?"

"Improved?" Lady Russell hardly thought there was anything to improve in a baronet. If there was, it was not her place to say so. She did not even want to wonder.

Lady Elliot knew her dear friend well and she knew it was too much to expect some honest criticism of her husband. "I have been trying to remove him from foolish influences. The influence of Phillips is far too great. I never knew. He had Phillips when we married and I never considered it proper to display an interest in his private concerns, such as his toilette."

"Indeed." Lady Russell had never displayed an interest in those concerns of her husband's either. It had never crossed her mind to do so. "What prompted you?"

That was perhaps not a well-mannered subject to discuss. "Ask me rather what I found!"

Lady Russell smiled. "What did you find?"

"He will listen to whoever has the most persuasive arguments -- and like anyone he considers some arguments more persuasive than others. I am proceeding with care and not changing too much. So far I have got rid of the blazing fires in his room and some little things. A normal hairbrush will do, for example. I am working on the warmer waistcoat now. Perhaps it would help if you told him he looks thin. He thinks he looks fat with a thicker waistcoat."

The Elliots had gone to Bath to look over a promising house. Anne had liked it. It would do very well for a family of three. Unless they housed them in a servant's bedroom, they would not be able to have any guests, but she understood that this suited her mother very well.

The house had once been lived in by a well-known admiral. Anne did not comment on the irony, but she felt it rather keenly.

Lady Elliot had been most sympathetic to Sir Walter's subdued manner. There was a difference between staying in town for a short period and moving permanently to a much smaller residence. She had been sweet to him, but decided. This was the house they were taking. He could not find fault with the public rooms and he would simply have to accept that a dressing room and half a bedroom was all he was going to get when it came to private rooms. This would not affect his dignity in the eyes of the world, because the world would never know.

There was little they could discuss with Mr Shepherd in the carriage. Mr Shepherd himself went over all the terms of the lease again to the point of boring them exceedingly. Lady Elliot fought against her fatigue, but Anne, who was not facing the man, found it easier to give into it. When she woke, she found they were back at Kellynch and Mr Shepherd had already been let out at Clifton.

Sir Walter had very generously allowed Anne to lean against him. Lady Elliot was quite pleased with it and treated him to a beaming smile, but he would not allow himself to be affected immediately. "It is very uncivil of you to fall asleep during Mr Shepherd's conversation, Anne," he told his daughter.

"I am sorry, Papa, but we were up very early."

He had not liked that bit either and feared it had given him a fatigued appearance. He had glanced in every mirror in the house in Bath, but there had not been many of those and he had not got a good idea of how he looked. "Perhaps it will teach him to speak of more interesting subjects, although I should be ashamed to have the same interests as a country lawyer."

"Now Walter..." Lady Elliot said gently.

"My dear Lady Elliot," he said in a rather scathing tone. "Simply because we are moving to a smaller residence does not mean I am going to associate with nobodies."

The carriage door was opened from without and the servants stood waiting. The thought that this was one of the last times he would ever come home in this manner affected him too much to stir from his seat. Suddenly he looked much in need of pity.

Lady Elliot was a compassionate woman and her heart ached. "Oh, Walter! I am so sorry. It is but seven years."

"Seven years. My home," he lamented.

"Think of it as seven years with fewer worries than you would have if you stayed."

"I cannot do it," he declared.

Anne would really like to leave the carriage, but she was trapped on the wrong side of him and now her mother was leaning forward too. "Please let me out," said she when her mother was in danger of behaving with the impropriety not befitting the wife of a baronet. Perhaps she did not want to see her father look distasteful in response. It would be too painful.

Sir Walter did nothing of the sort. He merely looked astonished, but before he could do anything else, Anne had nudged him. "Out. Yes. Out," he said. He let his wife go first. Perhaps he was afraid she would do more than stare at him as if she wanted something. But what?

Lady Elliot exited the carriage perfectly elegantly, without showing that she rather resented her daughter's interruption. Walter had almost appeared to have feelings. That he had feelings for himself, she knew. That he had no feelings at all for her, she doubted, but he was never demonstrative.

She retired to their apartments with him, but Phillips was there as always. She would have preferred to console her husband, who looked rather depressed, but it was not to be.

When they went downstairs again later, she was calm and cool. A few deep sighs had dispelled most of her agitation, but not all. She realised how deep-rooted her need for some attention was when she heard herself exclaim something very peculiar. "Walter, I wish you would be very improper for a change!"

"Whatever for? What can you mean?" he asked in astonishment.

"I see you are unhappy, but you do not seem to see what I feel." She wished this did not make her feel so desperate.

He stopped walking. "What does that have to do with being improper?"

"When we were in Bath, I wish you had pulled me into another room to tell me something." She did not really wish it, she thought, but he should give her words some thought in any case.

"Into another room? And what should I have told you?" Sir Walter looked completely at a loss. "And what about Anne?"

"Why do you have to be sensible at this moment?" she sighed. "Do not tell me Anne held you back, because you would not even consider it if Anne was not there."

He thought she was mad, but to put an end to it, he led her into the nearest room.

Anne wondered why her parents were late to dinner. It was not by much, perhaps a minute, but it rarely happened. Her father was frowning and her mother looked equally preoccupied. "You look tired, Mama," Anne said in concern.

"Yes, I shall not stay up long," Lady Elliot said distractedly.

Sir Walter said nothing at all. He did not even make any comments on the meal. Sometimes he thoughtfully studied his wife and daughter, but then he looked at his plate again.

Anne thought it a most boring meal. The tension unnerved her and she considered going to bed early to escape it. The tears glistening in her mother's eyes during the third course made it even worse. "Is there anything I could do for you, Mama?" she inquired.

"No, but I thank you for the offer." Lady Elliot made an effort to smile.

After the last course Sir Walter got up. "You will excuse us, Anne."

Anne had not finished eating and she looked startled. "C-C-Certainly."

"Eat on," he urged. "You are too thin."

It confused Anne a great deal to see them disappear and she did not see them again until the next day.

Sir Walter had been requested to think over certain matters at dinner and, because his wife had been absolutely serious, he had done so. It was very kind of her to give him time to think, because about a few of these matters he had never thought at all. Poor Sir Walter had felt quite overwhelmed.

During dinner he had very seriously reflected on why his wife could be out of sorts. She clearly was; even Anne had noticed. It had struck him that Anne had offered to do something, but that Elizabeth wanted it to be him, even though Anne was probably better at it.

But very well, if Elizabeth wanted him to act, act he would. He did not understand what was expected of him at all and he would very likely do it wrong, but at least she would never be able to say he had not tried. Thanks to Anne he knew his wife was tired, so he would be doing her a favour by taking her to her dressing room.

"It would be much easier if you spoke your mind, instead of expecting me to be able to read it," he told her as he led her out of the dining room. "Something is wrong, but you will not tell me what. I must guess! You sound like Mary."

"Mary is always happy to inform us of her precise illness," Lady Elliot said indignantly. She was not at all like Mary, but she was strong, discreet and well-mannered. But she was also too fair and just and thought that perhaps he was right in a sense: Mary had to take after somebody and her mother was certainly more often unwell than her father.

"Not me," Sir Walter replied. "It is always some vague feminine complaint I am not allowed to know the particulars of, but I am expected to have the utmost sympathy for nevertheless. I will not have any sympathy for unexplained complaints!"

She would almost smile. "Not even if they are mine?"

"Goodness, Elizabeth! I do not understand why you could not simply tell me what is ailing you. That cannot be more difficult than it is for me to guess. I do not understand women."

"I know." Perhaps that was what was ailing her.

Chapter Four

Posted on 2008-12-31

The next morning Anne saw her father at breakfast. Her mother was not there. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me to Mr Musgrove," Sir Walter suggested.

"Charles?" She could not imagine her father calling on the elder Mr Musgrove. She could not think of a reason why he would and he tended to avoid impromptu calls.

"They are all Charles. I suppose you are speaking of Mary's husband. I am speaking of his father."

Anne was surprised anyone had to go with him. If anyone was needed, she expected her mother to be the first choice. "Is Mama not going with you?"

"No, she preferred to go over her wardrobe to see what might be given away. I should like to inform Mr Musgrove that we are moving to Bath." Although they had told Mary, they had not officially told the Musgroves. They would have to be informed in person, of course, given how Mary was married to one.

"Is Mama all right?" Her mother was always at breakfast.

"Why should she not be all right?" Sir Walter thought she had been fine that morning. "Oh, because of her behaviour at dinner? I spoke to her. I know exactly what was ailing her. Women! You always think a man can guess. Oh, not you. Nothing ever ails you, but your mother and Mary. Mark my words. When we drop in at the cottage, something will be wrong with Mary -- and we have to drop in, because she will expect me to know something is wrong with her."

Anne giggled. He was very likely right. Mary always had some little thing to trouble her, it seemed, and they would indeed have to see her. "But has Mama told you what was wrong with her?" She was not reassured by her father's indifferent dismissal of it.

"I told her to tell me. Thirty years and I still do not understand women. She thinks I am deficient in understanding," Sir Walter said reflectively. "I must be, if after thirty years of being married to one woman and having fathered three others I still cannot read your mother's mind. Can you read her mind?"

Anne had to confess she could not always do so.

"Then it is not my fault," he said triumphantly.

"No, Papa, but perhaps she wishes you to try?" She was hesitant and respectful, not wanting to offend her father or tell him what to do.

He looked uncomprehending. "Why try something at which I am guaranteed to fail?"

"The effort counts." Anne knew her mother would appreciate it. Everyone would.

"It is easier simply to tell me, but that is exactly what she said. You got that from her."

"No, I am a woman too. It is what I should like, although I should perhaps not expect my husband to be able to read my mind. I do not know if Mama expects it." She did not think her mother was unreasonable, but of course she could well be vexed.

"Complicated creatures," Sir Walter sighed. "You expect him to be unable, but you would like him to try in any case. We do not enjoy feeling incapable, you know, and we prefer to avoid it."

"I know that," Anne said quietly when she remembered Frederick. It was an understatement to say he had not enjoyed being deemed incapable of supporting a wife.

The visit to the Musgroves was nothing out of the ordinary. Sir Walter was telling Mr Musgrove something he already knew and to which Mr Musgrove could only react with the appropriate regret. Anne was sure that the Musgroves would like any occupant of Kellynch Hall, whether it was an Elliot or not. In their own way, the Musgroves were as engrossed in their own concerns as her father was, but they were disposed to like any outsider to some extent.

They might even like the Crofts better than the Elliots. There was no reason to think the Crofts believed themselves to be above their company, whereas Sir Walter often did. Anne was pleased that her father had nevertheless thought of going here in person, something that must be appreciated.

Mary especially would like the visit. She often complained about the lack of notice from her family, although her mother visited her often enough. Most of the time she delighted in having done better than Anne, but now and then she feared her family did not like to visit a country squire.

Mary ought to like the visit, Anne corrected to herself. It was of course possible that her sister still resented them for leaving, since they were the two people who helped her most with her boys. Being seated by Mrs Musgrove now, Anne did not understand why Mary did not turn to the Musgroves for help more often. She contemplated the possibility that the Musgroves did not like to to be always at Mary's disposal. Lady Elliot or Anne could always be sent for, busy or not. They were family.

"Will you like Bath?" Mrs Musgrove inquired. "Henrietta and Louisa would be wild about it."

"Oh yes, we should!" Louisa cried. "I wish Papa and Mama would take us. When the younger ones are back at school, of course. I do not want them in the way."

"We shall see," Mrs Musgrove responded non-committally. "Who will live at Kellynch, Anne? Do you know?"

"An Admiral Croft and his wife."

"Are they old?" Henrietta asked immediately.

"In their forties, I imagine," said Anne. It seemed a good age to get along with everybody, even with girls of twenty. She smiled. "Would you not prefer to know if they were agreeable?"

"Oh, not if they are in their forties. Do they have any children our age?" She enjoyed dancing and lively parties. Young people would be a nice addition.

"No, they do not. They have none at all. But they are very agreeable. I expect they will make pleasant neighbours." She was a little sorry to leave, because she would have liked to be better acquainted with them. Unless she was very much mistaken, they would make pleasant neighbours indeed.

But then she thought of Frederick and she changed her mind. She had read that his ship had come home, as the admiral's had, and it was not unlikely that he would visit his sister someday. While she thought she could control herself sufficiently to meet him with composure, it would be rather awkward. He would not like meeting her again, she was sure.

They had to make an obligatory stop at Uppercross Cottage. Mary would hear of their visit to the great house and she would complain if they had not graced her with a visit as well. She would feel herself ignored and neglected.

"I am glad you could spare a moment," Mary greeted them. "I have been very curious about the new tenants. I heard they viewed the house, but nobody could tell me more and I had too much of a cold to come to Kellynch."

Anne heard nothing in Mary's voice that hinted at a cold, so she shot a quick look at her father. He had been right. She had never thought he could be right about such matters.

"Yes, Mary. I came to tell you as soon as I could, in case you are no longer here tomorrow," said Sir Walter. "The Crofts will take the house. We are moving to Bath. We have taken a house there."

"Already?" Mary cried and it was clear she was going to feel she had been used very ill by not having been consulted. "How?"

"We inspected one yesterday that came to our notice two days ago. Your mother was very pleased with it, so we took it." Sir Walter refrained from mentioning his own feelings on the matter.

"Why did nobody tell me? Surely there was enough time to notify me?"

"Notify you of what precisely?" he asked in his most pompously confused tone. "And what would it matter to you, since you are not moving?" he wondered.

"I do wish my family to be respectably settled," Mary pouted. "I may have to tell people."

"My dear Mary," Sir Walter said condescendingly. He was a little offended that his daughter thought that only with her help he could find himself a respectable residence. "You can trust me in that regard."

"Can I come and visit?"

"We took a small house. The guest floor is missing."

Mary was confused, but Anne giggled at the description. It was certainly apt, compared to the last house they had had in London. "There are no guest bedrooms," she explained.

"No guest bedrooms? Why not? Is it small? But it is respectable?" Mary asked doubtfully. "Will you be going?"

"I am an old maid. I have to go with my father and mother. But do not fear, I shall not enjoy it at all," she said teasingly.

Suddenly there was an awful racket outside the door. "Grandpapa!"

"Oh lord, the savages." With that fearful communication Sir Walter greeted his grandsons. "Mary, I wish you would not teach them to call me Grandpapa. I do not look half as old as old Musgrove." He quickly shot a look in the mirror. He looked a great deal better than old Mr Musgrove.

"But that is what you are." Mary's words were drowned in a sea of noise.

The boys saw Anne more often and she was not as exciting as their grandfather, but when little Walter elbowed little Charles off Sir Walter's lap, she could be useful in consoling him.

Little Walter was his grandfather's favourite on account of his name and the boy knew it. Sir Walter was forced to suffer an assault on all his pockets. He called the boys Charlie and Wally, which annoyed Mary until he promised them a short ride on the box of his carriage with his coachman. They were little Musgroves, both of them, and he had no qualms about abbreviating the respected name of Walter.

That Mary and Lizzy had both named sons after him was flattering, although it had struck even him as ridiculous and impractical. He did not want to get involved in any discussions on who had had the first rights to the name. His wife had not been able to talk sense in Lizzy and he had not even tried. He was too weak for it.

Anne was not as pretty as Lizzy, but at least she was not troublesome and quarrelsome. Perhaps she was most like him in that regard. At any rate, Anne had witnessed enough scenes not to call any son of hers Walter, if she ever had any. There should not be any more Walters in this world.

"You would not enjoy going with your father and mother at all?" Sir Walter asked her a little uncertainly when they were on their way home. He did not want all women in his family to be against him somehow. "Why not?"

She was surprised to find he had listened. "I had to say that so Mary would not think I was gloating over leaving."

"Are you not?" He was surprised as well. "Your mother is and you always feel what your mother feels."

"I should miss my home." She did not think her mother was gloating, but that she was happy about the move was clear. She considered explaining it, but decided against it. Her mother would have done that much better.

Sir Walter was pleased to find he could understand her. He understood a woman and one in his family at that!

Anne looked for her mother when she came home. Lady Elliot was in her room, sorting through her clothes. There was much she had always kept because it would take some time getting rid of it, but now they were moving it would cost even more time to pack and unpack it all. It had best be given away.

There were small piles all through the room with notes marking the intended recipients. Anne was glad to see it. Her mother had been busy and not lain in bed in a melancholy mood.

"Anne! Where have you been?"

"Papa asked me to come to the Musgroves with him."

"Really?" Lady Elliot was surprised. "I knew he was going, but I thought he was going alone."

"Did you need me for anything?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask if you could take these gifts to the village. It would take me so long and I still have to go over everything else. You will know who expect me to come in person and who do not. I know I should do it all myself, but I hardly have the time. I hate to be so negligent of my duties, but my daily business goes on until we move in addition to all this packing."

Anne understood. They had only three weeks. Visiting villagers and being asked in everywhere would certainly take a lot of time. Unless she took a footman to carry her load, she would have to go back home frequently. "I shall be happy to make myself useful. I have already packed."

With such tasks their last weeks at Kellynch passed and then the last of the waggons were sent to Bath. The family was to leave a day later, so some would be unpacked already upon arrival.

Anne and her mother walked a last round through the park. They each had their own hopes and fears to occupy them and as such it was a rather silent walk. Anne was sad to leave the home in which she was born. She had always lived here and it was with a heavy heart that she looked forward to their removal to Bath.

Her mother was right that there were more amusements in town. Perhaps she ought to look forward to going to concerts and the theatre. She enjoyed music, but she usually only heard herself or her mother play.

Anne cheered herself up some more by thinking that she had avoided an earlier departure from Kellynch by not marrying. Marriage implied for most women a removal from their homes. Her mother had once gone through that, although she had in fact spent most of her life here and as such she might well have become as fond of Kellynch as someone who was born here.

"Will you miss Kellynch?" she wondered.

"Miss Kellynch?" Lady Elliot answered. "I should mostly miss those early days when we did not have to worry about money. I have long since come to feel Kellynch embodies everything that led to our being in debt. I am not sure I like that, although the park and the house itself have never done me wrong."

"Oh."

"I hope," her mother continued, "that in Bath we shall be able to return to a life with fewer worries, although moving is by no means a solution to everything."

"Has Papa made any efforts to read your mind?"

"Once." She had asked him to and he had tried, but if this meant she would have to ask him every single time, she did not know. Time would tell.

"I want no such thing," Anne decided. "He must understand me completely." Wistfully she thought back to the one man who had seemed to understand her completely -- until she decided to break their engagement. He had not even tried to understand her then.

"Who?"

"A husband," Anne said cautiously. "But I am not saying I am coming to Bath to look for one. I am merely coming because I have nowhere else to go."

That was precisely why she wished Anne would get a family of her own. "A husband could change that."

"Would it? Lizzy seems to have the choice between staying with us and staying with William."

"She certainly travels a lot," Lady Elliot said diplomatically and she thought of the letter that had been sent to her eldest. It would not be received well. There would not be so much travelling for Lizzy from now on.

Chapter Five

Posted on 2009-01-04

Captain Frederick Wentworth was puzzled by his sister's news. "A house? Already?"

The last time he had heard from them was a fortnight ago, when they had left him a letter in Plymouth. He should have been there, but he had been on an important trip to Portsmouth at the time and he had missed their unannounced visit. In the letter his sister had written about their search for a house and he had taken that to mean they were just beginning. Now they visited again and they already had a house. He would have thought it took longer than a fortnight, especially if they travelled so much between Taunton and Plymouth and he did not know where else.

"Great luck," the admiral nodded. "In Somersetshire too, just as I wanted."

"Somersetshire," Frederick repeated. He knew the county, having lived there for a few months some eight years ago. It was not a time he remembered fondly. The admiral was from Somersetshire originally and that must be why he had chosen it, but Frederick would have liked any other place better.

"There was a baronet --"

"Oh, not a baronet!" Frederick exclaimed. He suddenly saw very clearly where this was heading. Somersetshire. Baronet. Kellynch Hall. Anne Elliot.

"Even useless people have a right to live," the admiral winked. "But the baronet had got too much in debt, or so it was whispered, so he was not so useless after all, for he had to let his house. We took it."

Frederick had not been able to forget the name of that house. It had to be Kellynch Hall, unless there were more baronets in Somersetshire. "And the family?" he inquired with studied indifference. It had been eight years. The girls would have married by now. The family would consist only of Sir Walter and Lady Elliot.

"They are taking up residence in Bath," answered his sister. "Edward remembered them, we found. What a coincidence that was, not that it matters. They all went to Bath. Edward congratulated us on our choice. He called it a pleasant house."

"All? It is a numerous family then?" Again he sounded indifferent. If not only the parents had moved, some of the daughters were not married.

"You sound more interested in the family than in the house," his sister observed. "You have not even asked where it is."

He could never fool her, not even after having lived so many years apart, yet he was not going to say he had no need to ask about the house because he knew it. "I am merely wondering what sort of house they left behind. In debt. A shabby place. And so forth. Where is it?"

"A village called Kellynch. It is not shabby. I shall like the grounds best of all."

They never told him any more about the family and after his sister's comment, he could not ask. It was frustrating, as frustrating as it was that they expected him to congratulate them on their good fortune. He was happy for them, truly, but he wished they were settling somewhere else.

His sister and the admiral had invited him, of course, but Frederick had postponed writing a reply. He had given the matter some thought. The house itself was nothing but a house. There would be memories, but he was sure they had no power over him anymore. The Elliots were gone. They would be in Bath. If he had been in their position he would not like staying with acquaintances to see how the tenants occupied their home. There would be no danger of meeting Anne, not that he would feel anything if he did.

He had come ashore with the intention to marry. After all he had achieved in his career a wife was the only thing lacking. He had the age to settle -- he was thirty-one -- and his twenty thousands pounds would certainly not be an impediment. In fact, he was quite a good catch and he was aware of it.

His friend Harville's news about his sister's death had not changed his intention to find a wife. On the contrary, it had made him even more decided against long engagements. He intended to be quick.

It would not be difficult. He was not going to compare every woman to Anne Elliot anymore. He had done so and never seen her equal, but he was determined to make a fresh start. It would not take him long to find out if a woman possessed those qualities he had thought long and hard about. At sea women became somewhat mythical creatures, but he trusted his ability to be clear-sighted and sober when faced with them. He had already been in Plymouth long enough to realise that women were most definitely earthly, but he trusted that in the countryside he would find some who were more elegant.

As long as he had no idea of where to settle, he might as well visit his sister and brother when he was released from his duties. He looked forward to spending more time with his relatives and he could combine his two objectives nicely while he was there.

The Crofts indeed expected Frederick to visit them. They did not doubt that he would. The only other place he could go to was Edward's, but since that was further away they could not imagine him going there first.

They had barely gone through all the visiting and dining back and forth when Frederick came and all the visiting and dining could start anew. "We shall be so well acquainted with all of our neighbours now," Mrs Croft said brightly when yet another man had come to pay his respects to the new arrival.

"What is the neighbourhood like?" Frederick asked. He had seen a few men, but not many of them had revealed anything at all about their families.

He still did not know anything about Anne Elliot. It was mere curiosity, he told himself, for he had no desire to see her again other than to see what had become of her. It had been a new and disturbing thought that she might well be married to one of the men who had visited. If that was the case they would undoubtedly meet when he reciprocated her husband's visit, but he would like to be forewarned.

It was not strange to think she might have married a neighbour. It would suit her character -- a safe neighbour, with enough money and some land. She could have done better, but she might not have wanted to. He should have thought about this before coming, but too easily he had assumed she would be gone. It was a mistake that stung him and he was resolved to make sure it had no consequences.

"Girls, you mean?" asked the admiral.

"Are you thinking of marrying?" Mrs Croft chimed in instantly.

"Oh yes, anyone between fifteen and thirty may have me for the asking." Frederick was sarcastic in his response, but he hardly realised what he was saying. "A little beauty, a few smiles, a few compliments to the navy and I am a lost man. The neighbourhood, if you please."

"We have received most of its representatives here, I think."

"They were all men."

"There are a few families headed by women. Or are you also interested in families headed by men who have unmarried daughters?"

She looked wicked and he knew he should watch out. Sophia could be dangerous. He kept his voice even. "The admiral thinks I care."

"I should think you very odd if you did not," the admiral responded. He could not imagine anyone wanting to spend his life alone. "You are on the wrong side of thirty, I estimate."

"I am indeed. What is your impression of the neighbourhood?" He did not recall much about Kellynch apart from the Elliots, since Edward had lived a little further north and he had moved in slightly different circles.

"Judge for yourself," his sister said sweetly. "You would not want me to find you a wife, would you?"

Anne had enjoyed her time in Bath, even if she had missed Kellynch. She had been to concerts, to the theatre and her mother and she had made some nice acquaintances. They had hosted one small party and several dinners, and they had been to some as well. She did not like card parties, but she had been to enough of them to keep herself busy for a few hours.

Lizzy had been angry at their choice of house. She had written, a cold and barely civil letter, but she had not mentioned any plans to come to Bath. Mr Elliot, however, had mentioned them and from his writing it was unclear whether he meant to stay with them.

Lady Elliot wondered if she had judged wrongly. He was capable of innocently passing the bill to them if he stayed elsewhere. It might have been cheaper to have him in the house. Although it was really Sir Walter's task to correspond with him, she wrote her son-in-law a quick letter. They could not be responsible for his accommodation in any way. She added her regrets, of course, but he would not care about them and she might as well have left them out.

Sir Walter, for his part, enjoyed Bath very well. There were many more people to be seen than at home, many more people to impress with his rank and good looks, and many more people of consequence. None of them knew why he had moved. Or rather, none spoke of his reasons. They all seemed content to assume he had come for the wider society. His wife had been right when she had suggested moving.

One day it suddenly struck him that he also had a very handsome wife. He observed the way she absent-mindedly paced the drawing room. He could in truth not remember having seen a handsomer woman lately and he was seized by a great desire to inform her of it. In the drawing room -- it was very shocking. Nevertheless, he remembered she had almost asked for it.

Because it would not do to startle her without warning, he placed himself in her way with a contrived air of innocence. She looked quite surprised when she found her way blocked. Anne was in the room and he would have to be careful, but she was still calmly doing some needlework by the front window with her back turned to them. There was no danger there.

He settled for first giving his wife his arm and leading her towards the far end of the room, at the back of the house. The connecting doors were open and they could walk a considerable distance. Fortunately Elizabeth did not mind walking with him and they walked a round and a half before he cleared his throat. "You look very well," he then said.

Lady Elliot was sensible to the magnitude of the compliment. "Thank you."

He halted. "I hope you do not mind walking with me."

"I do not have to keep up appearances for Anne's sake," she replied quietly.

"Anne. Yes, Anne." He shot a look at his daughter, but she still sat working without giving them any attention. She would not be able to overhear them. "You look very well," he said again.

"Thank you." She looked a little puzzled as to why she deserved the compliment.

"I should like to kiss you," he said boldly.

Lady Elliot's eyes widened. "Here? But Anne!"

"You do not have to keep up appearances for Anne's sake," he reminded her. "Besides, it would not be half as exciting in our bedchamber."

She felt faint.

"There," Sir Walter said in satisfaction when he had taken care of it. "I hope you did not think me too presumptuous, but you did ask for it."

"I suppose so."

"It was quite shocking to me when I conceived of the plan."

"I am sure."

"I hope you do not think of it as moral retrenchment," he said a little worriedly. "It is quite in line with my other ungentlemanly conduct of late."

"M-M-Moral retrenchment!" Lady Elliot said with a half gasp. "Well, no. And of what other ungentlemanly conduct are you speaking, Walter? I have kept such a close eye on you that you could have had little time either to spend money unwisely or engage in immoral conduct."

"If we disagree about when money is spent unwisely, perhaps we may also disagree when conduct is immoral?"

"I think I know what you mean by ungentlemanly conduct," said Lady Elliot. "But conduct is gentlemanly or ungentlemanly depending on where it takes place -- and who are present to witness it." She tried to keep from looking at Anne. Anne could not possibly be watching, so there was no need to look.

"If you put it like that..." he said in relief. "Does it have nothing to do with being married? I was hoping it did."

"It does. If I am involved and I approve, it is guaranteed to be gentlemanly."

Anne, who was watching, was mortified and would not at all agree with what her mother was saying had she been able to hear it. People embracing in company were absolutely shocking, even if it was taking place on the other side of the house. Nothing was in the way of her seeing it, however, and they might just as well have stood beside her.

She wondered what had transpired before it had occurred to her to look. Perhaps she had best not wonder. She got up to warn her parents they were standing in front of the window, even if there was nobody at the back of the house who would see them.

At Uppercross, Little Charles Musgrove had a bad fall and after much fussing an examination showed his collar bone was dislocated. After the first alarm about his condition had passed, Charles Musgrove felt himself equal to leaving the house again. His parents' having invited Captain Wentworth to dinner that evening certainly had something to do with it. His father had stopped by and said that if little Charles was so much improved, there was no reason to put off Captain Wentworth.

Having missed an introduction to the man earlier, Charles was determined not to be thwarted again. His parents and sisters spoke of the captain in terms of the highest praise and he wanted to see why. Mary was equally curious, but she was obliged to stay home with little Charles. There was no one else, although she would have left it to Jemima had Charles allowed it. She had protested vehemently and he had not heard the end of it, he was sure.

The Musgroves expressed their concern for little Charles when he got to the great house alone, but some of them were rather more interested in introducing him to Captain Wentworth.

"I hope the boy will have a speedy recovery," said Captain Wentworth. "And I am sorry the introduction to your wife is postponed once again."

He had heard, of course, that she was an Elliot, but that was long after he had heard that her name was Mary. Although she was not Anne, he still felt some apprehension about meeting her. Eight years ago she had sometimes accompanied them on those trips around the neighbourhood that young people are wont to take and she ought to remember him.

But he was not certain that she had known about the engagement. Anne was not the sort to share it with her younger sister, unlike the Musgrove girls, and it had not lasted long enough for Mary Elliot to find out by other means.

The Musgrove girls were pleasant, lively girls who were wild about him from the start. This was flattering and he was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. He enjoyed speaking about his life at sea and they promised to be a captivated audience. The parents, too, were all respect and deference, on account on his having once been the captain of their son Richard, one of the most troublesome midshipmen Frederick had ever come across.

"It is a mother's task to take care of the sick," Charles Musgrove remarked. "A man could not be of any use at home."

The captain said nothing. On board all these things were done by men, because none of them had their mothers with them. He had very recently taken care of someone himself, but he was not yet able to discuss the particulars of that with near strangers. Besides, each country had its ways and if it was the way here for Mrs Charles Musgrove to stay home and her husband to go out, so be it.

He sensed, however, that none of the Musgroves expected the former Mary Elliot to rejoice in it. He even caught Charles complaining to his mother that there would be trouble when he got back, as well as trouble for the next few weeks.

"I do not want to suggest, Charles," said Mrs Musgrove in a voice that was not as low as she intended, "that you send for Lady Elliot, because Mary ought to take care of this herself, but it might be the best course of action."

That idea had not yet occurred to him and he brightened. "That would be excellent. But she is in Bath. It is not easy for her to come and Mary always says her family would rather not."

"Her family is there rather more often than is good for them," said his mother.

Because the girls claimed his attention, Frederick could not hear more. He wished he was not so interested in the Elliots. They did not deserve it. From what he had heard, Mrs Charles Musgrove was no better than the rest of them.

He did not wish for Lady Elliot to come. Given the intimacy between the two houses, he was bound to see her and he did not want to. She was the one who had persuaded Anne.