Chapter One

Posted on 2009-05-27

"Have some more cake, Miss Anne. You look a little under the weather."

Mrs Musgrove's words hardly registered. Anne could not bring herself to eat, even if there was always plenty to eat at the Musgroves'. They had returned from the seaside a week earlier and had instantly resumed their social obligations. Anne had had no choice but to call today because of Lady Russell, who wanted to do her duty well before all of the young Musgroves came back from school. It had been a wise move of Lady Russell's. Although Dick and the youngest two were loud and noisy enough, it would be much worse soon.

A few weeks before Anne had broken her engagement to Frederick Wentworth and she regretted it already. While she had believed herself to be acting in his best interests, he had disagreed vehemently and he had not wanted to listen. He had only felt ill-used and betrayed.

Her father had made it clear there would be no money. It was difficult. In the absence of money she did not want Frederick to feel the burden of having to support a wife -- he would want the best for her and he would be unable to provide it -- but she wished she could undo his pain. So little time had passed since the giddy happiness following Frederick's declarations and the confusion following Lady Russell's advice that she had not been able to think well. There might have been a solution to the money problem; there ought to be one that was a perfect compromise,if only she had had a little more time to think of something. But now it was too late.

Frederick believed he would have a fortune soon, whereas Lady Russell did not think his word alone could be trusted. Anne had never considered the possibility that Frederick would fail until Lady Russell suggested it, but once it had been suggested she was forced to give her godmother's worries every consideration. Lady Russell was steady, prudent and older. It had led Anne to think it was best to put the engagement off.

And now Frederick was convinced she wanted to put it off forever and Lady Russell was convinced she had been a foolish and rash girl. There was no pleasing both of them and she could not even please Mrs Musgrove by eating cake.

Dick Musgrove took away little Harry's toys and laughed.

"Dick," chided his mother when Harry wailed.

"Look at him!" Dick chuckled. "He is angry with me now."

"I will be so happy when he is settled at sea," his mother confided in a low voice to her guests. "He is looking forward to it so much and is growing very impatient."

"When does he go?" Lady Russell would not think it a day too soon.

"Tomorrow. He goes alone. I cannot be spared here, what with the little ones, and Mr Musgrove..." She did not say what was keeping him here, but apparently his reasons were good. "But Dick is a big boy and he can take care of himself. He will do well at sea."

"I am sure he will," Lady Russell said diplomatically.

"I am happy to have him so well-placed. Miss Anne? More cake?"

Anne had managed to bite a tiny little bit off, but it was still in her mouth. It was good cake. She would have liked it under any other circumstances, but today it did not taste well. It had no taste at all. She tried to smile. Perhaps if she dropped it on the floor little Harry would eat it. Dick appeared to have stolen his cake as well.

She looked at Dick, who was going to sea. It made her envious. Frederick had gone to sea. He had left the neighbourhood and gone to Plymouth, at any rate. Why else could he have gone but to command a ship and get rich? And she had not trusted him well enough. If people could speak of Dick Musgrove as promising -- and Mrs Musgrove had said people had done so several times -- then surely Frederick must have been able to secure himself a ship by now?

Calling Dick promising was wishful thinking at best. Anne could not really like him and she had never heard anyone speak highly of him. Even now Mrs Musgrove's voice was more hopeful than confident. Frederick was a hundred times his superior.

But if Frederick had got himself a ship, he would be off to sea soon. There might be a period of reflection and he might come to regret his harshness, but there would be no return. He would not come back and it was frustrating that she had no way of going after him. She did not know why going after him occurred to her; nice girls were not so insistent, she was sure. They waited and were disappointed.

It was all Dick's fault. He was going to sea and she was not. "Where is he going?" she heard herself ask.

"Plymouth. He will sail on the -- goodness, I have forgotten the name of the ship. Dick?"

That happened to be exactly where Frederick had gone to see friends, according to the rumours that had reached her in some mysterious way, presumably through his brother. Frederick and Dick were both going to sail from Plymouth.

Dick was a stupid boy. It was vexing that he was going to Plymouth and that he of all people might catch a glimpse of Frederick. Suddenly Anne wished she was Dick -- or that she could go with him, for becoming him was not an appealing prospect. If only she could get to Plymouth!

How could she go with Dick? She pondered that as she had some more cake. It was impossible for Miss Anne Elliot to accompany Richard Musgrove, considering that he was going alone. The Musgroves would presumably send him in their carriage -- that was the least they could do for him -- but without a companion. Anne hovered between understanding that and wondering if they did not want to be certain that he had reached his destination. Dick was not the sort of boy one could trust.

But perhaps it was easy and the coachman knew where to go. It might be like going to school. The servant would show him the way and then return. She could travel down with Dick, but how was she to see Frederick if she returned instantly with the Musgroves' carriage?

The answer was astonishingly clear: she would not travel back with it, but remain in Plymouth until she had seen Frederick. What she was going to say to him she did not yet know, but she had to see him.

Now that she had settled that, she contemplated how she could get into that carriage. Dick would not understand or care to understand her plight. He was not the sort to be kind if she explained. He was also not the sort to listen if she asked. Therefore she had to force him, but how did one force Dick Musgrove to do anything? His parents would certainly not know the answer to that question. It was a miracle that he had even been forced to go to sea, as nobody had ever managed to make him do anything else.

She could threaten to hurt him if he did not obey, but how? She was not one of those burly men with whom he sometimes fought. Anne was aware of her limitations in that regard. She was a girl and not a very strong one at that. Her figure inspired no fear.

Perhaps a gun? One could not be at the Musgroves' and not think of guns. Mr Musgrove and his eldest son had a great interest in them. She did not know about Dick, but he would at least be aware of the damage it could do.

Yes, she would get a gun, but where? Sir Walter never took up any. If there were any in the house they would not be loaded or usable. The Musgroves, on the other hand, would have plenty.

How did one get one's hands on a gun at Uppercross? Anne had pondered that, but fortunately her first attempt was successful. She excused herself to wash her hands and wandered into the wrong room. Some knowledge of the house helped.

Lady Russell never found out about the gun under Anne's gown, for which Anne was grateful. She could never explain to her godmother of which plan she had conceived -- except perhaps after her return.

Mrs Musgrove had told her that Dick was setting off at nine. This forced Anne to do quite some work before then, for she had to get hold of a boy's clothes. Going as herself was out of the question. Miss Anne Elliot of Kellynch Hall, travelling back from Plymouth alone? No. It was best to disguise herself as one of the boys from the estate. They could go anywhere without anyone caring.

After dinner she slipped into the servants' sewing room, where clothing of every sort was to be found. When she had supplied herself with an outfit and a spare, she went to her room to cut her hair. It was a necessary sacrifice that cost her a little grief, but she told herself that hair grew quickly enough. If she left it a little long she might pass for both boy and girl, depending on what she was wearing.

Only then did she take a moment to wonder what she was doing and how she knew what to do. She must possess an innate wickedness to be able to come up with these plans, she thought, but at the same time she knew she must do it.

It was imperative to go to Plymouth. Everything else was unimportant.

In the morning she walked to Uppercross in her new outfit. It was quite strange to be wearing trousers, for she kept wanting to pull up her skirts. Her chest had been rather conspicuous and awkward and she had returned home to wind a long cloth around it very tightly. Her light figure was a blessing and it was hidden easily enough. She did not expect anyone to undress her.

By the time she came to Uppercross she was used to her clothes and she ran with bouncy steps. She was going and taking charge excited her. Submitting had always been one of her strengths, but today she found she could do more.

The coachman was busy with the horses and Dick stood looking bored by the carriage. His family were not in sight. Either they had already said goodbye or they were not going to do so. Anne was glad for Dick's popularity. She pushed a gun under his nose. "Take me to Plymouth."

Dick Musgrove's stupid face looked astonished. "What?"

"Plymouth." The gun was not loaded. She had thought about it -- anyone growing up near Charles Musgrove could not fail to pick up some knowledge of loading guns -- but decided that if they wrestled he could easily shoot her. And she was of no use to anyone dead.

"Plymouth."

"That is where you are going. I am too. Do not tell the servants." She climbed in.

"You are Anne." He climbed in after her and uttered a profanity. "What are you doing?"

Anne pressed her finger to her lips. Hopefully he would think it an exciting plan to take Anne Elliot with him dressed as a boy, but after all the trouble she had taken with her appearance she was a little disappointed nevertheless that he had recognised her instantly. "I cannot tell you that, but I must travel to Plymouth with you. Secret business."

"Huh!"

It was possible that she would have to conjure up a story on the way, but Dick was so stupid that he was easily fooled. She did not worry about stories too much. It was more important that he did not throw her out or alert the servants to her presence. "I have a gun."

He uttered another unmentionable word.

Anne repeated him. It seemed a boyish thing to do, although she was sure Frederick would never, but she had to get into Dick's good graces.

"I never knew you were a boy," he said, looking a little astonished. "Although the difference between you and your sister is striking."

Anne considered telling him about the enhancing effects of fashionable stays, but she did not.

Fortunately Dick, who had had to get up far too soon to his liking, fell asleep soon after they set off and Anne was left to look out of the window. The coachman had not once looked in and he probably did not know about his extra passenger. He was content to leave troublesome Dick to himself.

When they rolled into a town Dick woke. "This is Plymouth. What is your secret business?"

Anne had wondered about it, but she could only think of one thing to tell him. "I am going to sail."

"But they only take boys on board," Dick said in stupefaction.

"Which is what I am, no?"

She had learnt from Dick how things worked in ports, not that he knew very much and not that he had ever arranged anything on his own. His father had taken all the necessary trouble to get him where he was today and Dick had not had to lift a finger, but he had nevertheless picked up some small scraps of information that an excellent mind could pull out of him with the right questions.

This was how Anne found herself in line with a dozen other boys, one even scruffier-looking than the other. A young man in an officer's uniform inspected them. He was not Frederick, but she had been told that he was the Asp's lieutenant and everyone in town knew who commanded the Asp.

Anne stood straight. She was the eldest, the tallest and the best-fed of the lot and she had seen the lieutenant's eyes rest on her appreciatively a few times. Another man joined him. The lieutenant pointed. "That one looks healthy. Good teeth."

"I can read and write, sir," she spoke up. She had no idea if reading and writing were a part of the job -- it certainly did not seem to be the case for midshipmen like Dick -- but it was imperative for her to be chosen.

"Can you now?" he replied in surprise. "What is your name?"

"An- Andrew, sir."

The lieutenant held out his hand and the other man produced a notebook. "Well, Andrew. Write down Harville is a marvel. Let us see what you can do."

Anne dutifully wrote it down in her best imitation of a boy's scrawl, but she added a question mark at the end.

"You are a cheeky fellow," Harville commented. "The captain should like you just fine."

After some administrative formalities, Anne was taken to the ship. She had nothing but the clothes on her back, one set of clean clothes, some money hidden away in a secret pocket and of course Charles Musgrove's gun. Lieutenant Harville led her to something that was no more than a cupboard. It was full of things that probably belonged to the captain and not to her.

"This is where you live. The captain's quarters are right across. I will tell you he is also right cross at the moment, with many things, only one of them being the previous boy dying just like that, so you had best not be cheeky or you are out of a job. The captain being a fastidious gentleman, I could not get him too scruffy a servant, but he has too much of a temper to get him a cheeky one. Do you understand me, Andrew?"

Anne nodded. "I do, sir."

"Why do you carry a gun?"

She was amazed. "How do you know, sir?"

He merely smiled.

"I stole it, but it is not loaded."

He held out his hand and she was forced to give it up. After he had checked it, she could have it back, however.

She was shown into a larger cabin, assuming her cupboard could be called a cabin as well. It looked old, dirty and wrecked and the clean and proud young man in the middle of it made for a striking contrast. He was glaring.

"Got you a cabin boy," Harville announced. "His name is Andrew."

"Andrew," said Captain Wentworth, but he hardly gave her a glance. He was too busy glaring. "See these quarters? They are mine, but they would not be fit to house pigs in and I am not a pig. This place wants a good scrub. I am staying ashore until it looks presentable. The furniture is being repaired. When it is returned, it should also be cleaned. Scrub everything from top to bottom. Lieutenant Harville will supervise you. I am away for a few days."

Anne had been shocked at the conditions in which he had to live. This did not fit with what he had told her about living on board. She hoped he was angry because so much work still needed to be done. With a thorough cleaning and pretty furniture the place could be turned into something good, she had seen, and she would be happy to arrange that for him. It was all she could do, since he was going away and she had not yet decided what she wanted to say. She was happy to see him, but her courage failed.

He gave her no more attention, but marched out. Harville turned to her. "I shall have someone bring you buckets and soap. Water can be got ashore. We do not yet serve meals on board, but if you do a good day's work I shall give you some money for food each day to be spent at your own discretion."

"If I need something stronger than soap, sir, where do I get it?" Anne did not know if simple soap could clean this place. It would certainly not get rid of the awful stench.

"You ask me and I shall ask Mrs Harville."

Posted on 2009-06-01

Harville left her alone and Anne spent a few minutes wondering desperately where to start. One corner was even more dirty than the next. Behind a panel she discovered a smaller cabin. It looked as if a very large bullet had gone through, probably a cannonball, but not after it had been wrecked by hand first.

Someone was busy fixing the hole in the wall, because there was equipment on the floor. She was glad for that, because beyond the wall was the sea and the water would surely sink them. When she left the small cabin, a carpenter and his boy came into the large one. They nodded at her and went back to work. Not long afterwards they were followed by a boy carrying two buckets full of cloths, brushes and mops. He introduced himself as Roger and told her he would show her where to get water. He did not say much else, for which she was glad.

They each took a bucket and went ashore. Anne was a little afraid of the gangplank, but she tried to walk as carelessly as Roger. There was a pump on the quay and they got two buckets full. She was sure she could never get two at the same time. They were heavy, but she tried not to show it. Boys ought to be strong.

Roger left her when she got back to the cabin and she set to work in one of the corners. After doing a bit of the floor she realised she had best start on the walls first. They seemed no cleaner than the floor, after all.

When she had nearly gone around the cabin, she found Harville watching her. "You work hard," he said. "Here is some money. Go and have something to eat. The light will fade soon."

"Yes, sir." She looked at what he had given her. It was not much and she did not know she could buy a meal with it. Fortunately she had a few coins hidden away should it not be enough.

The next day Anne started working when she woke. She felt sore from her work of the day before, so she worked a little more slowly. A young woman came in after an hour with some bread and tea. "I am Mrs Harville," she said. "I am fitting out my husband's cabin. This is a pigsty."

Anne had seen cottages in similar conditions that had improved well, though not at her own hands. She knew it could be done, but not precisely how. "It is not beyond repair."

"A careless captain and a good beating from the enemy took their toll. Were you aware of the rumours about the previous captain?" Mrs Harville inquired.

Anne wondered about her cautious and probing tone. "No, madam."

"He paid good money to any woman who would share his cabin."

"No wonder I found earrings." Anne pointed at a cabinet on which she had laid out the spoils she had retrieved from between the cracks. "I cannot imagine a manly captain with such earrings." Her hand trembled when she imagined the current captain paying women money and she quickly hid her hand by her side.

She would have expected a cleaner cabin if women had been frequent visitors. It did not really make sense to her.

Mrs Harville inspected the earrings. "No. But what do you say to the captain's paying women?"

"I do not know what you mean," Anne said uncomfortably. "Not to clean?"

"Captain Wentworth will not do so. In fact..." the other woman's voice trailed off. "He will be very harsh on any girl or woman found on board. Me excepted, of course, but I do not plan to sail with them. If it was any woman's intention to make some good money, she would be sorely disappointed. My husband does not like administering punishment to women, so he would prefer to solve any problems in some other way."

Anne could only suppose he had found her out, but she said nothing. She did not want to give herself away if Mrs Harville meant something else.

"At the same time, however, he is a crafty coward who knows a girl could clean such a pigsty much better than a boy and the captain ordered him to get it cleaned. It is no wonder that he asked me to look over his own cabin. But Captain Wentworth's temper is unpredictable. There is no telling how he might react." Mrs Harville's eyes were continually wandering over her figure.

"I do not know what you mean, madam." Anne tried to sound brave. Mrs Harville was not much older than she was. There was no need to fear her. She was perhaps twenty years old -- a kind-looking girl, but not a fool. And Lieutenant Harville, if he had indeed found her out, could not be very dangerous if he had sent his wife.

"Your hands are too pretty. Dirty, but unused." Mrs Harville studied her own hands. "What do we do? What is your plan?"

"I had no plan but to get to Plymouth and on board."

"And start up a profitable line of business?"

Anne coloured. "No. I do not know what you mean." She wondered what she had wanted. She wanted to talk to Frederick and tell him to reconsider, but she had intuitively known he would not bend if she came to him as herself. He must not be given the opportunity to say no, but the finer details of this plan had not been worked out.

"My husband will be blamed for letting women on board. That even the captain saw you and saw nothing will not matter. He can be unreasonable."

That was something Anne knew and that was exactly why she had no plan.

When Captain Wentworth returned, the cabin looked much more presentable. He was not surprised, because he had ordered it to be so. The boy was still at work. It had been such a nuisance that the other boy had died, although he had sent a very good letter to the boy's parents.

He did not know where Harville had found this new boy, but his lieutenant had assured him that it was a literate and well-bred boy. Now that Wentworth observed him, however, he noticed that the boy was also well-fed, for a boy. Or was it that the boy reminded him of Anne? Why did he? He had never seen Anne in such clothes, nor as she was cleaning. But when the notion of Anne occurred to him, he began to notice some things about the boy that were not typically boyish.

"Anne," he said when he could not contain himself much longer and the boy started.

"It is Andrew, sir," the boy replied, but he only half turned.

Why Anne would be posing as a boy, he did not know, but it made sense that she would choose to call herself Andrew. It was close to her own name. Wentworth did not know whether he was angry or intrigued. "Of course. And you are a boy."

"Yes, Captain."

"Please tell me what you are doing here."

"I am cleaning."

It was a mystery to him why Anne would come here at all, after she had rejected him, but why she would want to clean his cabin was even more incomprehensible. She was a lady, not a servant. He felt quite blank inside. "Why?"

"Because Mr Harville asked me to -- ordered me to."

Even the voice was not that of a boy. He would have recognised it had there not been somebody in a boy's clothes before him. This muddied the waters somewhat. It was amazing that a voice sounded different if the speaker looked different.

He was still in the dark as to her purpose. She had come here, but she insisted on remaining someone else. Did that not defeat her purpose? He did not understand it at all. "You seem to have done a decent job." He had to give her that. The place looked and smelled clean and fresh. Now that he paid attention to it, he even faintly smelled flowers. Andrew was most definitely a girl.

"Thank you, Captain."

"But you are a girl, of course."

"No." The boy shook his head -- or the girl shook hers.

He studied her figure now that she was turned towards him. He had never seen a woman in trousers, so he wondered how one recognised one. They had chests, which this girl did not. Anne had had a little, but what had she done with it? It was not visible. "Well, if you are a boy, you will not mind removing your coat and shirt."

"I will not remove them."

Wentworth nodded knowingly. He had expected her to refuse. "Because you are a girl."

"No, because it is indecent to make such a request of anybody over the age of...two."

"I am the captain. I can make any request of anybody. What is worse, I give orders and everybody must obey. There, Andrew. Take off the coat and shirt." He still expected her to refuse, but to his great surprise she obeyed, if slowly.

It was difficult to follow the rules if he ordered them to be broken. It was difficult to tell her to stop, although he felt he should. But he was only a young man, who found it easier to assess the danger and consider it negligible -- an ostensibly flat-chested girl could not have much to show, although being a young man he was quite interested in whether she did.

He saw nothing, of course, for around the area where a chest was supposed to be there was a large white bandage. He studied it. It was somehow being used to hide the chest. Without a shirt covering it, it did not look all that flat. "This bandage proves my point." He did like being right. "I suppose you would keep it on at all costs."

"It is a wound. I was shot in the chest."

"I should not be walking around so happily if they had shot off my distinctive characteristics," Wentworth commented. "Wounds need regular care. Have you let the surgeon look at it? Shall I send for him?" He could sound sympathetic if he chose, but his expression belied his words.

She looked worried. "No, Captain."

"Well, no need to examine that chest, I suppose, for it is clear that you are not a boy from your stomach and waist, and you may not like the surgeon looking under your bandage at all." Considering that she was a girl, he would never force her to see the surgeon. He was nice like that -- but not so nice that he would not tease.

She looked surprised and a little more worried. "What is wrong with my stomach?"

His eyes followed the gentle curve of her hip, although she had placed her hands on it now. "It does not look like a man's."

"I am not yet a man."

"No, because you will never be one." He unbuttoned his coat thoughtfully. "Would you like to see a man's stomach?"

"No!" she said in shock.

"You could have seen one by now if you had married," he said dangerously, but he did not finish taking off his coat. He suddenly felt bitter, but it would not do to indulge in emotions. This was a battle of sorts. Thinking of what they might have been to each other was useless. "They are not shocking to behold, merely different. Hard, flat, straight."

"I know many a man with a very round stomach," she protested.

Now that she mentioned it, he did too. He should not forget that Anne was a clever girl. "None your age. A thin girl is still rounder than a fat man. It is different. I am curious what you would have done about a husband's stomach."

"I am a boy."

Now that she was dressed as a boy, it struck him how awfully young she was. She was only four years younger than he was, but he had travelled and seen a bit of the world, whereas she had only been at home and at school. It made an enormous difference. When she was not dressed up as a lady, she looked like a child and he had not thought of himself as a child for years. Surprisingly he softened and instead of feeling frustrated with her insistence, he felt something like concern. "You cannot know the consequences of your actions."

"I shall find out," she said bravely.

"But good grief, what did you do?" She had travelled here, a young gentlewoman on her own, or had she already been dressed as a boy when she set out? Would she be missed at home?

Not only was he the captain, but he was the elder of the two and it was up to him to make a wise decision. One thing was certain: she could not remain Andrew. He had reasons to object to having Anne work for him. That she was a girl might be kept from the rest of the crew if she was careful, but he would not be able to treat her as a boy or a servant. He did not even want her so near. She had jilted him. If she spent too long in his presence he might come to forget that.

The expression on his face seemed to frighten her, because she did not reply. She looked very young again. Wentworth sighed. He could not stick to his resolve if she looked like that. This was not a haughty lady, but a young girl. "Dress up. You could not be my servant."

"I did not come to be that," she revealed, looking happy to dress again. "I hardly know how I ended up here."

"But if you are not my servant, you have no reason to be here. I cannot keep people on who are not a part of the crew." And he did not want people to be a part of the crew who had not wanted to be a part of his life.

Suddenly he thought of Harville, who had let her on board. Had Harville not seen that this was a girl? The man was married. And Mrs Harville? One woman ought to recognise another. "Have you seen Mrs Harville?"

"I have."

"What did she say?"

"She warned me."

"That I am a perceptive man?" He was a perceptive man. He had found her out instantly. Although he could not imagine why others had not, seemingly she had indeed managed to fool all the others she had seen.

"No, that you could be unreasonable."

Captain Wentworth looked nonplussed. Why was he unreasonable? He was not. Then he moved. "Harville?" he bellowed out of his cabin.

He sat waiting for the lieutenant to come in and stood up when he did. "Fetch Mrs Harville and have her dress up Andrew as a girl. After you have done so, get me another boy. Look into his trousers to make sure, for all I care."

"I did, sort of, Captain, and saw a gun."

Wentworth stood still. "A gun?"

"Andrew had hidden a gun in his trousers."

The situation was growing more ridiculous by the second. Wentworth wondered what he had done to deserve this puzzle. He had been punished enough in recent weeks. "She had a gun in her trousers? Where the devil did you get a gun, Anne?"

Harville looked interested, but not so much in her answer as in the evident familiarity between the two.

"I stole it from the Musgroves."

"Stole it," he repeated. His head was spinning. "At home? You stole a gun...and a carriage...and clothes..." It was what a well-bred young lady would do, of course. They all stole guns to have their way. He did not understand girls at all.

"I used the gun to secure a passage in a carriage," Anne said solemnly.

He did not understand girls and Anne least of all. The last thing he would be able to imagine was Anne using a gun to force others to do her bidding. It was simply impossible. "Do you even know how to use a gun?"

"I do. That is to say, I have seen them being used, but it is not loaded."

"I had checked that," said Harville.

She had first struck Wentworth as a child, but these revelations changed that a little. Or not. Only a child would take a gun that was not loaded. He needed to stop feeling sympathy for her and he would only be able to do that if she looked like herself again. "Harville, get Mrs Harville to dress her up."

Harville disappeared and Wentworth realised he still did not know if the man had known. He turned back to Anne and wondered what to do with her when she was dressed. "Will anybody be missing you at home?"

"That is possible, but they will not know where I am."

It was possible and therefore unlikely. He did not know what to do about a girl who would not be missed. "I am glad you are finally acknowledging that you are a girl. I was growing tired of your silly persistence."

Chapter Three

Posted on 2009-06-06

"He found out," Mrs Harville stated when Anne was brought to her. "Oh dear. I brought you some clothes as requested. Poor Thomas. What will happen to him?"

It was only natural that she should be more concerned about her husband than about anybody else, if he was the Thomas she spoke about, but Anne felt a little overlooked. "And to me?" She had no idea what would happen to her once she was in skirts.

"Oh, you will be sent back, I am sure. You are a lady, are you not? I am sorry for the clothes. They are not as fine as what you are undoubtedly used to."

"I do not want to change my clothes at all," Anne protested. "Your clothes are fine enough for me, but I do not want to be sent away." She had not yet done what she had come to do, which was talk to Frederick. The opportunity had not yet come. She wondered if it was going to come at all. Certainly not if he sent her away.

"I do not know what the captain plans to do." Mrs Harville dressed her up and brushed her hair in spite of her protests. "There. Now you are a girl. What are you to the captain?"

"Nothing," Anne said wryly. She meant nothing to him, but he meant so much to her.

"But he must know you."

"He does. But why do you think so?"

"I doubt he would have had you dressed otherwise. He could have got you kicked ashore."

Anne winced at the roughness of that treatment and Mrs Harville's casual tone. Did this happen as a rule? Did Frederick do these things? She could not imagine he would kick her ashore, but perhaps he would do so to others. "Could he? He is a gentleman."

"Who apparently knows you are a lady. But if you know him and he knows you, you must have come for him especially," Mrs Harville deduced. "For a young lady to come after a young man..."

Anne looked away. Young ladies could only come after young men for one reason, although she had never known any who had actually gone after them.

"Did his command come as a surprise? Was he taken away so quickly? Are you married?"

"No, I am not married."

"Although I am married, I half-jokingly contemplated doing what you did," Mrs Harville revealed. "But it did not seem feasible to me. I must survive ashore, as all wives must."

"Yes, Mrs Harville," Anne said obediently, even if she was not a wife.

"But I can still not make sense of the captain. Thomas would have reacted quite differently if I had come here without his knowledge. He would have been flattered, quite possibly embarrassed, but he would have spared me the embarrassment of being found out by others. But never mind. You would not have come here if you had known what the captain would do."

"Where is my daughter?" asked Sir Walter Elliot.

Captain Wentworth was astonished by Sir Walter's appearance. How did the man know that his daughter was here? Either Anne's departure had not gone unnoticed or the man had more insight in her than anyone had thought possible. He was inclined to think that Anne was less proficient at masquerading than she had let on, but that did not explain why it had taken a week for anybody to be on her trail. Many things could have happened in a week.

"Your daughter?" He feigned indifference.

"My daughter Anne."

"Oh, that one. You are welcome to her, sir. She did indeed show up here, but --" he shrugged. His words had surprised him; he was ready to hand Anne over, but there was nothing else he could do. "What am I to do with her? I do not take women and children on board."

"But her reputation is ruined."

"It is not. Nobody knew she was here, unless you make a point of advertising it." He did not like Sir Walter. Advertising was probably exactly what he would do. Sir Walter could not travel like a nobody. Everyone would know that it was the baronet who passed.

"But she is ruined."

"Not by me."

"Am I to believe that? You wanted to marry her and she spent a week with you here. Both inclination and opportunity were present."

"Do tell me why she would accept my fortune and income as a mistress when she would not do so as a wife," Wentworth asked sharply. Saying he had been away for a week would be useless, as was saying that he had had neither inclination nor opportunity.

"Would that be any concern of yours if she came to you willingly? Sailors are not so particular about their companions." Sir Walter looked around the cabin his daughter had cleaned. It was still bare. "Apparently Anne is not either."

"What have you come for?" the captain inquired. The trip was hardly worth the trouble if the baronet had only come to insult people. He must be thinking of taking Anne home, but not to love and protect her. Her running away had merely been an insult to her father.

"I shall take Anne home and she may then reflect on her transgressions," said Sir Walter. "While I shall reflect on her future. It will be difficult to get rid of a ruined girl. It will be near impossible to get her married."

"That ought to suit you, since you are unwilling to part with her dowry. But take her home by all means. It would save me the trouble of paying for her fare home." He turned away and felt as indifferent to Anne's fate as she had been indifferent to his. The only reason why he would have paid her fare was to make sure she was truly gone.

"You will not take your responsibility?"

Wentworth raised his chin. "I have no reason to."

"You are not a man of honour, I see."

He was a man of honour; he did not lie. He had not touched the girl and he would not be accused by such a man of anything in which he had taken absolutely no part.

"You would refuse four thousand pounds?" asked Sir Walter.

"I would." Wentworth was a little insulted by the apparent offer. Four thousand pounds was a lot, but he could not be tempted to lie.

"I could find some sailor hereabouts who would take Anne along with four thousand pounds," Sir Walter mused. "Having her married to a sailor is better than having a scandal."

"You would sell your daughter to clear yourself." This was incredible. There was not even any immediate danger, unless the man told everyone where Anne had been. He could not begin to understand the workings of Sir Walter's mind.

The baronet did not think it an offence. "Men have been selling their daughters for centuries."

"A few weeks ago you would not part with even three thousand pounds." This was even more incredible.

"No," Sir Walter agreed readily and he did not appear at all ashamed of his opportunistic change of heart. "Things change."

Captain Wentworth did not doubt that the baronet was speaking in earnest. He would sell his daughter for four thousand pounds somewhere in Plymouth. It was hardly a sum that would tempt a respectable kind of man. There would be plenty of interest in the money, but not in the girl. It would not be very difficult. What would happen to Anne afterwards was anyone's guess.

"Where is she?" Sir Walter asked.

The captain shrugged. The man should do his own work.

Anne was now dressed as a girl, but instead of being taken to the captain again, her father was in the captain's cabin. Her father! She looked around for Frederick, but he was not there. Lieutenant Harville left her and she was all alone with Sir Walter.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Nothing," Anne decided.

"You have been living as a captain's mistress for a week. Indeed, what could you say?" He looked at her in contempt.

A captain's mistress? Anne was shocked. But the captain had not even been here! She had always thought there would have to be some interaction between a man and his mistress, but there had been none in this case.

"How could you be shocked that I found you out? You are ruined. At first I was thinking of taking you home, but I have come up with a better plan. Considering that you have willingly given up your home and reputation, it cannot matter much to you who will pay your meals."

She looked puzzled.

Sir Walter clasped his hands behind his back. "Four thousand pounds for the first man who will marry you. I shall not be very particular. He must be of some rank, naturally, and unmarried, but beyond that I do not care."

Anne was horrified. He was uncaring enough to be sincere about this and she did not want to stay. She turned and ran, dashing out of the door and into another passage. She knew the way here a little by now and she knew where to hide. There was the pantry, the small galley, her tiny cabin and the ways down to the lower decks. She had only been there once or twice, but she would be able to hide there. Sir Walter would not venture that far down.

As she was going down, stumbling in her haste, an astonished young man steadied her. She thanked him and hurried on, not looking back to see what he would do. Down another ladder she went, even though she supposed this almost brought her to the bottom of the sea and that was a little frightening. It was dark and damp here and she could hardly make out where she was going. At the bottom of the ladder she fell over another man and she yelped in pain.

When she had stood up with the help of the man's hands and dusted herself off, she spoke to him. "Thank you. I am sorry I did not see you. I was in a hurry. Where might I hide myself? Would you know?"

"You do not wish to be married to someone with four thousand pounds? Is it too little?" asked the man.

"Frederick," she gasped. "How do you know about that?"

"Is it too little?" His voice was not kind.

"Four thousand pounds for the first man who will marry me, he said. He will not be very particular. The man must be of some rank, naturally, and unmarried, but beyond that my father does not care."

"Of some rank? In a port?" Captain Wentworth let out a mocking laugh. "How can he think so? If he drops that requirement it will be much easier. I do not buy girls, but standards vary."

"What were you doing here?" Anne asked timidly.

"This is my ship. I can be anywhere without having to explain myself."

She winced at his tone in the darkness. "I still want to hide." If he spoke like that she wanted to hide even more, but preferably somewhere he was not.

"You cannot invite trouble and then run away from it."

He had a point, but she had not counted on seeing her father. He was an unforeseen complication. Once he was gone, she would face the other trouble. "Who invited my father? Was it Dick?"

"Who is Dick?" he asked suspiciously.

"Dick is a midshipman on the Glory." She carefully stepped away from the faint circle of light around the ladder. Her hand touched a few crates. She hid behind them.

"Anne." Frederick sounded exasperated.

She did not respond. She was not coming out.

"The rats will nibble at you."

That was a childish attempt to scare her. Anne was not impressed.

"You do realise what your father will think if you do not surface."

She did not know and she care. It was better than being sold to the most handsome bidder.

"I can send men with lights down here."

If he could, he should. She was not moving until then. If there were truly rats down here, she was not running away from trouble at all. Being nibbled at by rats was not much better than whatever her father had planned. The slight noises were frightening because Frederick was not making them.

After a little while she heard him climb the ladder. It did not relieve her, for now she was alone with the rats and other creatures.

Captain Wentworth thoughtfully rejoined an irate Sir Walter on deck. He was surprised to find the man had not given up. It was all pride, of course, and no concern for his daughter at all.

"Where is my daughter?" the man demanded.

"I do not care."

"She ran way and none of these fellows want to look for her." Sir Walter gestured at some men who were trying to work. Evidently he had been bothering them.

"I ordered them to work. I have not told them they may take orders from you." Here, on his ship, he was the superior man. He was the captain; baronets were insignificant.

Sir Walter did not know it. "I am Sir Walter Elliot. I insist that you bring me my daughter."

"Your daughter is no concern of mine." It occurred to him that he could get rid of Anne now, but he could not bring himself to condemn her to the fate Sir Walter had in store for her. The man was livid. He would have sold her before he was off the quay.

He returned to his cabin and left the man to stew.

Chapter Four

Posted on 2009-06-14

Anne sat waiting in the darkness, but nobody came, no men with lights, no Sir Walter and no Frederick. It was chilly and she shivered. The shuffling and creaking around her made her a little afraid and she contemplated going up the ladder again to hide somewhere else, where it was not damp, dark and dusty. After what seemed an eternity she could get her limbs to move. After dismissing a few spots as too dark or too small, she came to a place with a large table in the middle and she sat down at it. There was light here and what was even better, there was no one else, although by the looks of it there would be at some point. Until then she could think.

She could not keep hiding until they went to sea. There would be many more men on board by then if this table was any indication. More could sit here than she had seen on board so far. The other spaces might be as crowded. Except possibly between the crates below there would be little room to hide, but those crates served some purpose and would be unpacked at some point, and men would go below decks.

And she would have to eat. She would like to eat now too, but for that she would have to find Harville to give her some money and she would have to leave the ship in plain sight. Both were difficult. She had not worked today, so she was not entitled to any money. Besides, leaving the ship as a girl was bound to attract attention.

She rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes. She still had her gun. What could she do with it?

It was surprisingly easy to get some work done while Sir Walter was being angry on deck, Captain Wentworth found. He unpacked some of the chests that had been brought in, which was really his boy's work, but while his boy was a girl he did not really know whose work it was. He got his china and table cloths stacked away and then looked out. The man was still there, bothering Harville.

He liked Harville, but he had sensed before that the man was at times a little too soft. Harville might not dare to oppose Sir Walter, but Wentworth wondered why not, since he had already opposed his captain by taking a girl on board. It was unbelievable to him that Harville had not seen that Anne was a girl, therefore the man had seen it and deliberately kept it from him.

He joined the two. There was still that offer of four thousand pounds. It could not have been made to Harville, since he was married already. Wentworth did not think he would have been able to bear seeing Anne married to someone nearby, no matter how well the man would treat her. Not knowing or hearing of her was best, but he could not ignore that he knew of her prospects now and that no decent man would allow Sir Walter to proceed.

Harville was glad he could finally see to the men who were painting and he excused himself. This left Captain Wentworth alone with Sir Walter. "Still here, sir?" he inquired.

"Obviously!" the baronet snapped. "I have still not seen my daughter. You are hiding her on board."

He was not hiding her; she was hiding herself. He could not deny that he knew where, but so far nobody was asking. "You are welcome to descend to the lower decks to search for her yourself," Wentworth said with a generous gesture of his arm. He was almost certain that the man would not. His clothes would get dirty.

"I will set the authorities on you."

"The authorities --" His voice was contemptuous. "-- will be given every cooperation. I do not want girls on board. Women are trouble." He did not think he was in any danger. Everyone was free to search the ship for Anne. Everyone would find that he did not prevent them.

Wentworth changed his manner. "But perhaps it would solve your problems much faster if we came to some sort of arrangement?"

"Which sort?" Sir Walter asked suspiciously.

"A financial one."

"I always knew you were a mercenary cad."

It was an insult, but the captain let it pass. He did not really know what he intended to say or do. He only knew he could not be passive if Sir Walter sold Anne to another. He would rather be involved himself, even if he did not. His contradictory feelings on the matter disturbed him, but his conscience took over. "Yes, we all are. However, it would solve your problem. Give me four thousand pounds and I will see to it that she is taken off the ship."

"And married?"

"Well..." He hesitated. That was perhaps one step too many at present. "I can arrange anything for four thousand pounds. You appear to have little authority here. For four thousand pounds she will be taken care of without any scandals blemishing your good name."

That was really all Sir Walter cared about. "How?"

"I know of married ladies who might like companions."

"Yes, you would know such women." Sir Walter narrowed his eyes. "However, I should not like to have my daughter in such a home. There would be a coming and going of...men."

"The lady's husband, if he is ashore. I doubt the lady requires four thousand pounds to remain respectable." He gestured at his cabin, feeling quite smug at his genius. If he could place Anne with a married woman, she would be saved and he would be saved as well, for he would not have to marry her himself. "Please let us see to those administrative formalities."

After he had dealt with Sir Walter, who really had not much choice but to comply if he persisted in his thoughts of having his good name ruined by Anne's behaviour, Captain Wentworth called in Lieutenant Harville.

"Harville, it is only that fair that you, since you placed me in this predicament, will bear the consequences."

Harville looked cautious.

"You knew it was a girl."

"I..."

"You did." He was now more certain than ever. Harville could not suddenly have become an excellent liar. The man had knowingly let a girl on board.

"I suspected, but how does one check a girl?"

One asked her to undress. He wondered what Harville would say to that, but he did not try it out. "She gives herself away."

"Indeed."

"You will bear the consequences," Wentworth repeated. "Or rather, your wife will."

"My wife? My wife must stay out of this," Harville said worriedly. "She has not done anything. You must not punish my wife. I only told her what I suspected and she --"

"She will not be punished, but she will bear the consequences of your negligence. The girl will live with her."

Harville's face betrayed relief, but also confusion. "Why?"

"Because she cannot sail with us."

"Her father wants to take her home."

"Her father wants to sell her," Wentworth corrected. "I cannot take part in even the smallest part of such a scheme. I shall take his four thousand pounds and give them to the ladies. They must do with them as they see fit."

"Do you mean you will leave the girl with my wife?"

"Exactly that," he nodded. He had just said so.

"Is she a cousin of yours?"

"No."

"But why?"

"Call it madness on my part, but to condemn a young girl to a marriage to the likes of Captain Potts or Lieutenant Beckley is something I cannot do. Her father does not care." Harville might know the men he mentioned. They liked money and they liked girls, but they were not very good at handling either.

"You could marry her yourself," Harville suggested boldly.

The captain's face clouded over. "No. That I cannot do."

Harville contemplated the matter. After a while he spoke again. "Might I ask for how long the young lady is supposed to lodge with Mrs Harville?"

"Until she comes of age." Wentworth had not really thought about the future. He was certain it would not bring a marriage between him and Anne. That was past. Anne would come of age in two years. Four thousand pounds would be enough to last her until then.

Only now did he ask himself why she had come. Fleeing from her father was not the same as fleeing towards another man. He could imagine the former better than the latter, but women were notoriously fickle. Anne would be no exception. She changed her mind on a whim.

He did not. It was made up and he would stick to that.

"And what of those four thousand pounds? I cannot afford a companion for my wife." It was clear that Harville could barely afford a wife.

"The four thousand will take care of that. Sir Walter will sign them over to you completely. Mrs Harville, I trust, will spend wisely." He did not think she was a young woman who would let money affect her.

Harville was astonished. "To me?"

"He must, or else your wife cannot get to it."

"Can he not simply give his daughter an allowance?"

"He could, if he could be trusted, but he cannot." Leaving the four thousand pounds in Sir Walter's possession would ensure that Anne did not see a penny of the sum. That was obvious.

"Why does he not give the money to you?"

Captain Wentworth looked proud. "I do not want his money. I have no ties to either Mrs Harville or Miss Elliot. Besides, I shall be at sea." He would not be able to spend the money, nor to give it to someone else.

"I do not want this money and I am sure Mrs Harville would think it an insult to be paid for accommodating your..."

"My...?"

"Your...er...acquaintance."

The captain was a little concerned. He thought he had made it clear that he had nothing to do with the Elliots, yet this point did not appear to have got through to Harville. The Elliots were not acquaintances; they were people he had met once upon a time. And Anne was no particular acquaintance of his. "That sounds suspicious. Precisely what kind of acquaintance do you suspect Miss Elliot to be?"

"Well, I do not know, but if she is an acquaintance of yours Mrs Harville will not want to receive money for her. I do not know how she could manage without, but I know she and I will think anything too much."

"By flattering me you think I will look elsewhere for a good home for her?" Wentworth demanded. He was entitled to some respect as the captain, but he would prefer it to be deserved and honest. This struck him as a little false. "That you are too honourable to be paid in fact means you would rather not have the girl?"

"No, no. If she is a special acquaintance of yours we should be honoured to help out."

"Ah, now you will only help out if she is special. She is not special to me. She is a case of charity." He might do the same for any other girl.

Harville seemed to understand, because he nodded. "Oh. But in my absence you -- or rather, that father -- will give Mrs Harville control over four thousand pounds?"

"Yes. They are not my four thousand to give. I merely suggested to him a way of keeping his family's reputation intact."

"Why does he not place her with an acquaintance of his own?"

"He might not have respectable female acquaintances," Wentworth said maliciously, "given that his first thought upon my mentioning a woman was that she could not be respectable. That would not be my first thought if someone spoke of a woman. Or perhaps he simply does not want to do any work. Find the girl for me. She is still on board."

He did not want to reveal that he knew where. Harville would find her quickly enough, for he did not think Anne would hide anywhere dirty or frightening. The mention of rats ought to have scared her.

"Yes, Captain." Harville looked glad that he was given something comprehensible to do. He evidently needed more time to let the other things sink in.

"Oh, and look for her yourself. We do not want any of the crew to find her in the hold."

"Why not, Captain? I thought finding her was the objective."

"We do not want to give all these men opportunities for being alone with a girl down there. Who knows what they might do." He supposed they could be trusted, but he still preferred Harville to take care of it himself.

"Her father did not care. He would send anyone."

"See my point?"

Harville thought it was wisest to say that he did.

Chapter Five

Posted on 2009-07-05

Anne was roused from her musings by Lieutenant Harville, although she could not say how much time had passed by retracing her thoughts. They had gone in circles.

"The captain sent me to find you. He has a plan," he said.

"Everybody seems to have plans for me," she said in resignation, but she felt she might like a plan of Frederick's much better than anything her father concocted. It was a good sign that he had a plan; this meant he had thought of her.

"Well, if your own has failed..." But he spoke kindly.

"It was incomplete, but it did not fail." Anne got up and went to him. If the captain had a plan, the lieutenant was probably going to take her to him. She wondered what sort of plan it was. If it was not good for her, she was either going to run or talk to him.

"Did you not intend to remain a boy?" Harville asked interestedly.

"I hardly thought about that. I only needed to get here and it seemed the best way. It was not a good disguise, I think, but I had little time to prepare." She was even a little glad that she had been found out, for the thought of setting sail on a ship full of men was a little daunting. It might be all right in the captain's cabin, but the places a boy was supposed to live in were not.

"It was passable," Harville said generously. "Why did you need to be here?"

Anne blushed. "I cannot tell you."

"It involves the captain."

"Yes," she admitted, but she could not say more. She followed him to the captain's cabin. Frederick beckoned for Harville to stay, which surprised her. There would not yet be any opportunity to speak to him about private matters. It was a little disappointing.

"Your father acquainted you with his plans," Frederick stated.

"He did." She tried to gauge whether he was favourably inclined towards her or not, but it was impossible. His self-control was better than it had been at Kellynch, but the uncertainty was unnerving.

"Were they to your liking?"

"No, they were not." She thought he had known. She had been hiding because of that, after all. But perhaps he did not want to let on that he had seen her in her hiding place. Yes, he would want to appear uninvolved like that. She could see it. There must be no bond or friendship between them, not even the appearance of it.

"Well, you will have the choice between your father's plans and living with Mrs Harville."

Anne stared. "Mrs Harville?"

"Yes. Those are your two options." Frederick clasped his hands behind his back. "There is no question of your going home or your sailing with us. Either you must marry a man of your father's choosing or you must live with Mrs Harville."

"Does Mrs Harville know? Does Lieutenant Harville know?" Not much time had passed since her father had been here and Mrs Harville had gone ashore after dressing her up. The lieutenant could not have been away to inform her yet.

"Mrs Harville will comply," Frederick said confidently.

"We ladies are not as obedient as you seem to think," Anne said in protest. Poor Mrs Harville might not like this scheme at all and Anne would certainly not like to be an unwelcome guest. "You say live. For how long should I live with her?"

"Until you come of age."

"But that is two years!" Mrs Harville could not possibly be liking such a plan. She could not want to have an uninvited guest for two years. She had struck Anne as rather poor.

"Your father's plan will have you live with someone for fifty years," Frederick said with a shrug.

"I would rather do that than drive an innocent woman to the poorhouse," Anne retorted with an indignant blush. She caught Frederick making a grimace to Harville that seemed to imply she was not making any sense, but he was the one who was not making sense.

"Your father will give Mrs Harville four thousand pounds to take you in," Frederick delivered his coup de grace.

"Those same four thousand? But that makes no sense," Anne said when she could speak. She wished she did not have to be so impertinent, but it was truly incomprehensible. Her father did not like to part with so much money.

"Why not?"

"If he does not marry me off, I shall not be gone forever." She would in theory be able to cause a scandal again in two years, even if she thought it unlikely. Would Sir Walter then again spend four thousand pounds?

"Without any intention to insult you, I must say I do not think your father is capable of looking two years ahead. This needs to be fixed today, so anything that fixes it today is acceptable."

Frederick could have married her himself without putting Mrs Harville through any trouble, but she could not say so. Harville was present, but even if he had not been, she would not have been able to say it. But he was probably right about her father, as much as it pained her to admit. His opinion of Sir Walter was evidently even lower than it had been before.

"What do you choose?" he inquired.

She thought quickly. "I could choose the third option."

Frederick raised his eyebrows.

"I could run away from all of you. I have a gun." At that both men laughed -- Frederick incredulously and openly, and Harville behind his hand. Anne was a little miffed by their reaction. They were overlooking that she had managed to come here. She would manage to go elsewhere if the need was pressing enough. "I could," she maintained.

"You have a gun. I think it is time someone took it away from you," said Frederick. "Considering the schemes you come up with."

"You will not find it," Anne said daringly. It was hidden on her body now. "I will not give up my security, unless someone needs it more than I do. Perhaps I shall give it to you to protect yourself from foreign navies, but perhaps not."

"An unloaded gun," he mocked. "Well, really! Have you any idea of how such skirmishes take place?"

Anne thought it was not to her advantage to say no, so she said nothing. Guns had to be useful.

"An unloaded gun will not help me anywhere."

"You could knock someone over the head with it." Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Where did such ideas come from? "Hard."

This silenced Frederick for some reason and he appraised her as if she was someone he had never seen before. Anne shuffled her feet. She was being too outspoken and wild. In an effort to appear more like Miss Anne Elliot, she turned to Harville and addressed him politely. "What does your wife say to the plan, sir? I have no wish to be foisted upon her."

"She does not know." He looked uncomfortable. "But she will do as the captain asks."

"I did not know he was asking," Anne could not help but say, in spite of her resolve to be less impertinent. "I thought nobody had any choice in the matter."

"Captains do not ask," Frederick agreed with an arrogant look. "Their one concession to civility is presenting you with two options."

"Me! Not Mrs Harville," she pointed out. Poor Mrs Harville was being presented with a fait accompli.

"That is Harville's problem. He let you on board. Besides, nobody asked me if I wanted a girl on board, or her father and his --" he stopped. "Nobody consulted my wishes."

He sounded like a petulant child, which was a change from the arrogant captain, but Anne was always willing to consider someone else's point of view. "I am sorry, but you would not have received me here otherwise."

He stuck to his ever-useful maxim. "I do not receive women on board. Can we send you to Mrs Harville? Or should we send for Sir Walter?"

"Mrs Harville, please." For all its strangeness, that was to be preferred. "But...do you mean instantly?"

"Yes, instantly. I do not generally waste time. You have no business being on board."

"But...there are things I wanted to say."

"I have no time for them," he replied with a cold look.

Captain Wentworth had said that and then he had sent Harville out with Anne. Rather than dwell too deeply on what she might have wanted to say -- which could only be regrets of her earlier cruelty towards him -- he thought of Mrs Harville. Anne had been right. He would, if he was the one being forced to live with her, feel the same way. Nobody had asked Mrs Harville anything.

Although he was quite sure the woman had known Anne was a girl, it had not been her responsibility to tell him anything about it. Harville must have told her, in which case he could not imagine her running to the captain immediately. Wives were loyal to their husbands.

Or they should be, he thought darkly, even to men they would like to take as husbands.

Some were fickle, but Mrs Harville evidently was not. He supposed she might do as her husband ordered, which suited him well. Would anybody object to a companion if she came with such a great sum of money attached? The Harvilles, however, were poor but proud and they might therefore be stupid when it came to that money.

He frowned. He would have to think of a solution if Mrs Harville refused the money. She had always struck him as sensible, but he did not know her well. He had always thought he knew Anne well and she had also struck him as sensible until she came here with an unloaded gun and in a boy's clothes. Clearly women were more complicated creatures than they first appeared.

Anne was such a child. At the same time she had the makings of a fine pirate queen -- provided that she carried a loaded gun. He did not know why he thought of pirate queens, except that stories about them had always fascinated him and something about Anne's journey hither fascinated him as well.

Somehow since their last conversation at Kellynch she had acquired more strength. That previous Anne would have listened to her father -- or to him. On no account would she have come up with a third option, as silly as it was. He was rather interested in finding out where she would go with her gun, not believing she could go anywhere, but feeling too curious all the same.

Anne was worried that she would not have a chance to speak to Frederick before he set sail. Mrs Harville seemed to come on board often enough, but that was for her husband's sake and she would not bring Anne if she did.

Perhaps she should give him time. He might be more eager to listen to her if he had had a little time to think. The ship was far from ready; it would not leave this week.

She should think of Mrs Harville, on whom a great surprise was about to be sprung. "Perhaps you would rather speak to your wife alone first?" she asked Harville. She did not want to hear Mrs Harville's objections.

"She will not say no."

"But before she will say yes, you may need to discuss it with her."

He smiled. "Thank you."

Anne tried to remember which way they walked. She would like to know the way back to the ship on her own in case she needed to go, but while she had been thinking of Mrs Harville she had already lost track of the turns they were taking.

It was not a very good part of town where Harville stopped, but after a few moments Anne thought it corresponded to her impression of the Harvilles' lack of wealth. A maid let them into a house and they had to climb two flights of stairs. Mrs Harville only had that floor.

Harville asked her to wait on the landing, while he went in search of his wife. She could not be far away; the house was probably not large. Indeed, after a few seconds Anne could hear their conversation, but she was glad she could not hear what they were saying.

The matter was apparently settled very quickly, for Mrs Harville appeared first. She smiled and Anne hoped this was a good sign.

"What a very interesting plan," Mrs Harville commented. "Come in and discuss it with me."

"But you must not feel obliged to go along with it," Anne said hastily. "If it was a mistake to come to Plymouth, I must pay for it myself."

"Are you not already paying for it? You could not have come here with this in mind."

"I must pay for not having had very much in mind."

"Except for that one thing you will not tell us about," Mrs Harville concluded. "All the details of your acquaintance with the captain. But he must have some feelings for you if he did this for you."

"He did very little. He is letting you do it." Anne thought Frederick had done his best to keep his former feelings out of it as much as possible. Mrs Harville guessed he must have some feelings, but only because of what he had done, not because of how he behaved.

"Yes, yes." Mrs Harville took her by the arm and led her into a parlour. "But young men who are about to set sail, what can they do? What do they know?"

Anne had always believed young men knew a great deal more of the world than she did. That had many more resources and possibilities besides. "But he is twenty-three."

"That does not make him all-knowing when it comes to girls and households. Does it, Thomas?"

"But..." Anne looked confused at this judgement of Frederick -- and at Lieutenant Harville's not denying anything. "I always thought he was all-knowing."

Chapter Six

Posted on 2009-09-20

Lieutenant Harville soon left them and Mrs Harville took Anne into the small room where she slept. "We must share, I suppose, except when Thomas is here."

"What happens then?" Anne was glad for any kind of bed she would be given. It could not be more uncomfortable than on board.

"He will share with me."

"Oh. Well, of course he cannot have his own apartment here." It was too small. Anne did not think there were more rooms. Harville would have to sleep in one of the rooms she had seen if he came here.

"His own..." Mrs Harville was astonished. "But of course you are a lady."

"I am sorry." It was normal in her circles, as far as she could tell from Kellynch Hall and Kellynch Lodge, but it might sound condescending to say so. She had best say something pleasant. "I shall not mind a smaller home."

"Certainly if you considered sailing you did not, unless you had planned to stay with the captain. His cabin is tolerable."

"He does not like sharing it, I think." She thought about the four thousand pounds. "But if the captain gives you money, you could afford a larger home with enough space for your husband."

"I do not need a larger home," said Mrs Harville. "Not for myself. Therefore the money is best saved for when it is really needed. Is there something coming your way when you come of age or when you marry?"

Anne thought this was going to be all. Her father was not generous; he simply wanted the problem solved. "I doubt it. But we should not live in poverty simply because I may need money in two years. I do not know what I shall do then, but it need not be a concern of yours."

Mrs Harville smiled. "Believe me, we shall find you a nice officer, be it the captain or not. You will not have to worry about that, but nice officers may well be poor and it would make things easier if you had a little money at least."

"But --" Anne did not think she wanted anyone but Frederick. Perhaps Mrs Harville thought she was young and she would think differently in two years, but she did not think so.

"The captain could be a nice man. He is occasionally nice. Where precisely did you meet?"

"He was staying with his brother. In our neighbourhood."

"And you were acquainted."

"We were."

"Did your father oppose the acquaintance?"

"We were engaged, briefly, but my family --" Anne shrugged. It was so difficult to explain. She wanted to make herself appear neither more guilty nor more innocent than she had been. "I broke it off."

"I see," said Mrs Harville. "The captain did not let you go without protest?"

"No."

"But he will not take you back without protest either, it seems. I assume you would like him to and that is why you came."

"Yes." Anne did not know how foolish she appeared. "My family cannot make me happy. It therefore matters little where I live."

The matter was arranged without Anne's interference. She assumed Frederick had met up with her father once more, but she was not told much. Lieutenant Harville came to say it was done. By that time she was growing used to staying with Mrs Harville, who was a friendly girl named Fiona.

Although their tastes differed, neither minded those of the other's. Fiona was not a reader, but she could make any dress she laid eyes on. She sold the prettiest ones, keeping simple and modest ones for herself. Anne at first thought herself a little useless, but Fiona assured her that she would never think so. She enjoyed making clothes and she could make more than she could wear herself.

Anne was glad when she could be of help making baby clothes. This was weeks after the Asp had sailed and Fiona was happy to be able to share the news with at least one person, even if it was not her husband. They looked forward to the addition to their household and speculated on Harville's reaction. He would very likely not return before the birth.

It was a startling realisation to Anne that if she had not broken her engagement she could have been in the same position. Here, she knew no one, whereas at Kellynch there were so many people she could ask for information. Now she was at a loss who to ask.

Frederick might have known something, she thought, but Fiona did not think so. Anne told herself not to wonder, because she was not married to him.

While Fiona was optimistic about her future, Anne really had no idea. Frederick had not said goodbye to her. He had not seen her since he had sent her to this house. She felt a little like his ward, what with him having arranged an income and a place to stay for her, but he might not come to see her when he returned either.

Fortunately they were too busy to think much about him. Anne's money was of help when it came to preparing for the child. It would have been considerably more difficult for Fiona to get everything ready otherwise.

After a few months Lady Russell had managed to unearth where she was. Because Sir Walter had no authority over her, she could visit Anne and express her concerns. Anne could see she did not think Fiona a suitable companion, but there was very little about it that could be said in her presence and Anne pretended not to see Lady Russell's doubts.

Lady Russell called it a harebrained scheme. She was torn -- thinking Anne should listen to her father, but at the same time knowing that Sir Walter did not care. She wished she could be of help, but she suspected that Anne was rather set on snaring her captain, despite having been left behind without so much as an engagement.

It was possible that she regretted her advice a little, seeing what it had led to. Anne's financial situation was better than it would have been had she married, but it would not last. In two years she would be worse off.

Anne was determined to stay where she was. Fiona was so much more likeable as a companion than either Elizabeth or Mary and to return home to be no one again only for Lady Russell's sake was something she did not want to do. Lady Russell did not live at Kellynch Hall and she travelled too much to provide a counterweight to the indifference she received at home.

It was not only that; she imagined that Frederick preferred her in a more independent role. The gun had impressed him. Her going home would not.

Consequently she rejected her godmother's offer -- or postponed accepting it until she came of age. While she shook her head at Anne's foolishness, Lady Russell loved her too much to abandon her.

Captain Wentworth was slightly bitter. That, at any rate, was how he would describe his feelings. Harville would very likely describe them differently, but the captain did not share many of his feelings with him.

He generally shared some of his purchases, however, and the lieutenant was therefore suspicious of a particular one. It was a dainty little gun at first sight, which was surprising enough, but upon closer inspection it proved to be a box of sorts. For his sister, said Wentworth.

Now Harville knew a little about said sister. Mrs Croft was not the type for dainty little guns, nor for jewellery boxes. He had never met her, but she was by all accounts a sensible and steady woman, not a girl with a fondness for trinkets.

He did know a girl with a fondness for guns, although he did not know if she was fond of guns in general or only fond of her own. But the captain knew her too. His buying a gun and his knowing a girl with a gun pointed to the two facts being related: the gun was for the girl.

This was of course something the captain would never admit. Harville even allowed for the possibility that Wentworth was deluding himself and that he genuinely believed his sister would be the recipient of the atrocious -- the lieutenant thought such trinkets were a waste of money -- jewellery box. He therefore nodded sagely and said nothing.

Captain Wentworth was slightly bitter. He was also reckless and audacious, which, depending on the outcome of his decisions, could either be brave and heroic or thoughtless and stupid.

He was fortunate, for his gambles were successful. That he had risked his own life and that of his crew was almost forgotten. He came back and could boast of impressive achievements and a considerable amount of prize money.

Still, the little gun that he had bought on impulse would not leave him alone. He did not even think it pretty -- but he was not a girl -- and he wondered why he had bought it. He could not see himself take it to Anne and reveal that he had bought it because he had imagined her as a pirate queen.

Chapter Seven

Posted on 2009-10-06

Captain Wentworth had not accompanied Lieutenant Harville to his house. He had chosen not to take the hint that he was welcome to come along and this, he felt, was a sign of strength. Instead, he celebrated his return with a few other men. Although he occasionally enjoyed himself, at other times he felt like a coward for evading a meeting with a mere girl -- a girl who could furthermore not do anything to him because her gun was not loaded.

He ought to go and see what had become of Anne Elliot. Did she still live with Mrs Harville? She had come of age now, he reckoned. She could have married somebody, Sir Walter might have changed his mind in the meantime and got her back or something else entirely might have happened. But curiosity did not become a man and he forbade himself to dwell on the matter.

He had to wait for Harville to return to find out more, but the man did not mention Anne at all. He gushed only about his child.

"Did you have a child before you left?" Wentworth asked, thinking he should feel less indifferent and annoyed. He was also thinking he ought to know whether the child was a new development. Perhaps this had been clarified in Harville's first sentences, to which he had not listened well.

"No. You know that."

"Perhaps you had simply not mentioned it because it would have been --" he broke off rather lamely.

"I had only been married a few months and that is not long enough."

"It is not?" Wentworth did not know or care.

"Unless you are a different sort of man."

"It is different for different sorts of men?" He did not want to speak about this at all, because he did not care in the least how long it took. Having children was for other men, men who had married and who had not been rejected.

"Yes. I had been wondering, you know, if there was going to be a surprise when I returned."

Captain Wentworth now understood Harville's having fretted about his family. Calling Mrs Harville and Anne that had always struck him as a little overblown, but of course he had been speaking about Mrs Harville and a child. That, indeed, was a family. That Harville had not been more specific was probably due to a lack of sympathetic ears. The captain had not been too eager to listen to talk of wives.

"I am happy there is, but now I worry if I made enough money."

"I am sure you did," said the captain, without having any idea of what it cost to support a wife and child. But a lieutenant and a captain ought to have enough, especially if they had been as successful as they had been. It would have been possible even before then. He was sure of that.

This useless discussion was for a few days the closest he got to hearing about what happened in Harville's house. Then Mrs Harville visited -- without the child. Anne was not with her either. Why should she be indeed? She was not married to Harville, nor to anyone else on board, and she could not have any legitimate reason to come. He had always said women were not welcome.

"Where is the child?" Wentworth inquired because he could not inquire about Anne. "I have heard rather a lot about him." He would not have minded seeing the child. They were usually amusing and if only half of Harville's praise was justified he would still be a good little boy. The child would be a nice distraction.

Mrs Harville smiled sweetly -- too sweetly. "I was afraid he would fall into the water. Captain, you must come to dinner and then you can admire him to your heart's content."

How could he refuse? He did not think he could and he accepted her invitation graciously, because he would not be affected by Anne's presence. If she was there at all. He had been away for two years. He could do this.

When the day came around and he presented himself on Harville's doorstep, however, he felt some apprehension. Anne might be unpredictable. She might take out her gun and force him to marry her. This was not a very realistic prospect, but nobody would have thought it at all realistic for her to have come to Plymouth. It was best not to try to understand her or to assume anything logical at all. That the gun was not loaded and that he would not obey was irrelevant. It would be awkward anyhow.

He had brought the little gun, although he had not specifically planned to give it to her that evening. Why he had stuffed it in his pocket he did not know. He was certainly not going to give it to her in front of the Harvilles.

A servant showed him to the floor that was occupied by Mrs Harville. It was a relief when the first person he encountered in the parlour was a very ordinary-looking Anne. He corrected himself, for she did not look ordinary, but merely feminine. Her hair was done up prettily and she was more attractively dressed than she had been at Kellynch. She had her four thousand pounds now, he supposed. Mrs Harville was not the sort to withhold that money from her.

Wentworth wondered why he was relieved. Because she looked like a girl? Because she had obviously not run off or married? There was no time to examine his feelings, so he settled for a bow. He had manners.

She greeted him back, reservedly.

He regained his composure when it all proved to be easy. She was a girl and she was not being odd. He was a captain and he had dealt with greater dangers. "I am glad to see you have stuck to being a girl."

"For the duration of this evening," she replied.

He did not know what that meant, but he did not want to ask. Although she looked ordinary, it was possible that some madness still lurked within. "I am nevertheless glad."

The Harvilles were still absent, either by design or by accident, and he looked around himself to see if it was possible to spy on this room from the outside. It did not appear to be the case. Then he might as well get rid of that silly box, or it would fall out of his pocket at an inopportune moment. "I brought a more useful gun for you."

Her eyebrows shot up.

He pressed it into her hand, eager to be rid of it before the Harvilles appeared. "Instead of bullets it may contain hair ribbons. It is a box."

If it was possible her eyebrows seemed to go up even higher. "Oh. I mean, thank you."

Wentworth observed her longer hair. "I am glad you have hair ribbons to put into it."

She studied the box. "It seems very -- I shall put it away and examine it in private. Please turn around."

He obeyed, glad that she was putting it away instantly, although he had a question. "Why?"

"So you will not see where I put it. You may turn back."

Just in time, he realised, for there was some noise outside the door. It was some odd thumping.

"He wants in," Anne remarked.

"Who? Harville?"

"No, Tommy." She walked to the door and opened it cautiously.

A small child fell forward, but it did not hurt himself. The Harvilles were right behind it. "Captain!" said Harville as if he was much surprised to see him.

"Is that your child?" the captain asked. "Oh, why am I asking? It looks like you."

Anne had been calm, but curious. Frederick was outwardly exactly what she had hoped he would be. He had not been injured or affected too much by the weather. He looked wary of her, but she could explain that. She was happy he had come and she was prepared to excuse any unpleasant behaviour on his side.

Of course she knew he had not had much of a choice but to accept Fiona's invitation, not even if he had not wanted to meet Fiona's companion at all.

Anne had heard from Harville what they had done at sea and she had learnt to understand the full significance of it. It had made her proud of Frederick, but she also felt informed enough to hold a sensible conversation with him on the subject if he chose.

A gift was the last thing she had expected, let alone such an odd little box. She had put it away quickly, because she sensed he would rather not let the Harvilles know. He would have given it in front of them otherwise. It was now safely hidden in a pocket of her underskirt. Fiona would find out about it naturally -- this was her house and Anne did not have any private spaces to hide things -- but at least Frederick's dignity would be saved.

When little Tommy came in, all attention was on him. Frederick avoided looking at her and apart from some necessary politeness, he avoided speaking to her as well for a great part of the evening.

Then, when little Tommy had to go to bed and both of his parents thought it necessary to attend to the task, Anne was alone with Frederick again.

"Does she not have a nursery maid?" he wondered.

"She has me, I suppose."

"But you are not a servant. You have money."

"She would never use my money to hire a nursery maid when we do not really need one yet." She shrugged. They managed as they were.

He asked a surprising question. "When does one need one?"

"When there are more children and more tasks for a mother than she has time for. Or more than enough money and no other, more necessary servants to hire. Or, perhaps, if she has guests and she does not want to leave them alone."

"So you still have all of your money." He frowned when that sounded very peculiar. He had no interest in her money.

"Not all, but Mrs Harville wanted me to leave most of it untouched in case -- well, in case." She did not want to mention a poor husband, in case he would think she had her eye on someone else.

"That is wise."

He planned to save money himself this time. He had never done so before, which was one reason why Anne had been dissuaded. But to say he had practically brought it upon himself was something he could not do. It was not even true. There had been much more wrong with him in the eyes of the Elliots. If he had been a penniless peer they would have welcomed him with open arms. A Captain Wentworth had simply not been good enough.

It was different now. Anyone was good enough for Anne Elliot. Sir Walter no longer cared.

That would not last, of course. Once Anne showed up at Kellynch with a one-legged and one-eyed husband of no name or fortune whatsoever, Sir Walter would care very much. Captain Wentworth snorted. It was a pity that Anne would probably not do such a thing. She would know better than to think there was help or interest to be got from that quarter.

And she might not marry such a fellow at all, because he was of course nothing to look at. "Would you marry a man with one leg and one eye?" he inquired.

She was taken aback by the question. "Why do you ask?"

"Never mind. Would you?"

"It is at present highly unlikely."

"It would ruin your chances of ever getting more help from your father, of course."

"I am not counting on receiving any in any case," she replied. "I do not think I ever thanked you for your assistance."

"That would not have been necessary. Anyone with the least bit of sense would not have stood idly by while a child was in danger of --" He suddenly thought she might not like to be called a child. "Or a young girl."

"Thank you." Anne shot a glance at the door. The Harvilles had still not returned and given Tommy's habits they might be out for a little longer. This would be the only moment she had and Frederick was not averse to talking to her. She gripped a cup for support. "Did you never wonder why I came to Plymouth?"

Chapter Eight

Posted on 2009-10-25

Captain Wentworth considered the question. Had he never wondered why Anne came to Plymouth? It was a simple question, but at the same time a very complicated one. Had he never wondered? He had not. He had not wanted to wonder. It was possible to know there was a path and then not to take it. "No," he replied, aware that this was very likely an unsatisfactory answer.

"And now?"

She seemed unusually persistent and he frowned. "Too much time has passed to come up with a good explanation by now," he said, still reluctant to take the path. "I may not recall all the particulars as well."

Anne leant back a little. "Oh. I should think it might be clearer."

There was probably someone to whom it might be clearer, but he was not that person. Women made no sense and Anne least of all. "No, not at all."

"I had come to say I was sorry."

"For what?" he asked bluntly.

"For saying we should not be engaged." She kept her eyes on him.

"You were sorry, but you had had to do it nevertheless?" She had perhaps wanted to soften the blow, but it would remain a blow.

"I should not have done it."

He looked away. Of course she would have been better off being married to him -- he had always thought so and he had always thought that she must be regretting her decision. Any sensible girl would and Anne had always been sensible back in Somersetshire. This was not really surprising. She had rejected a man with a promising future and it remained to be seen whether she would ever get anything better.

"But you are not asking..." she said hesitantly.

"I have no need to. I know."

Why were Harville and his wife leaving them alone for so long? It was rather aggravating that he was being left alone with Anne and her prying questions. It could not possibly be taking so long to put a child to bed. Their absence was deliberate.

Wentworth suddenly reversed the matter. Were they instead giving themselves time alone? If that was the case they would not be behind the door through which they had gone out. The child would be there. He walked to the door that led to the landing and cautiously opened it to a crack.

What he saw made him shut the door almost immediately. However, he was curious.

"What is it?" asked Anne.

He could not answer and pressed the door almost shut without making any noise. "No."

He thought she let the matter rest when he said no more and returned to his seat, but he was wrong. She was quick to get up. "I have to make sure it is not a mouse."

"It --" It was not a mouse, he wanted to say, but she could see that for herself. He got up as well to keep her from eavesdropping. To achieve that he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh!" She giggled.

He was appalled that a well-bred girl like Anne Elliot would giggle at a sight like this. Perhaps she was no longer well-bred. "I forgot, madam, that in a port you will have seen this and worse."

She whispered back. "Not at all, Captain. One can see as much at home -- not at home, but in the neighbourhood," she corrected herself. "One only has to look out of the carriage when it passes through a village on a moonlit night and -- well, Mrs Harville and I are generally not out on the streets after nightfall, so what happens in ports is I am sure very shocking, but I have no knowledge of it."

"I am happy to hear Mrs Harville and you were sensible." Being in such close proximity to Anne he felt a strange desire to do what Harville was doing. Two years ago he had kissed her very chastely on the cheek, but that was no more than what one did to close friends and barmaids.

"Unhand me, Captain, or I shall be forced to use my gun."

Something was indeed pressing into his side. He looked astonished, but a little condescending too. "It you are trying to shoot me with that jewellery box, madam..." He would inform her that a jewellery box could not shoot.

"I am not that stupid. The box is in my other pocket." She pulled a serious face. "I will not use my gun. It is still not loaded. I was merely making a point. I am not an insane child."

He could not acknowledge her point, for the Harvilles returned. "We are very sorry. Tommy..." said Harville.

"Indeed, Tommy," the captain answered. "I was thinking, Harville, that perhaps you would like to stay here tonight? Perhaps Miss Elliot can stay in your cabin? Is it presentable?"

Harville had embraced the captain's brilliant idea with enthusiasm. Anne was left to murmur that she would not object to the plan, but nobody thought of asking her. The lieutenant's cabin was neat and tidy, she was sure, but it was still his. That Frederick thought his plan was as brilliant as Harville did, was evident. It would amuse her if she was not subject to a removal as a consequence.

She had many thoughts about the captain bringing a woman on board, but she did not voice any in company. Of course he was no different from anyone else. When it suited him he forgot his principles.

But he was doing Harville a favour, not himself, so perhaps it was commendable. "You are a good friend," she said when he walked her to the ship. "Going against your principles for him."

"Am I?"

"Or should I change my clothes and board the ship as a boy again?"

"I was just thinking about those principles. It might be time to adjust them. A little." It was quite pleasant to have a girl on his arm and it would be quite pleasant to take her on board, especially a pretty girl.

Life in general might actually be pleasanter if he relaxed some of his rigid principles. Wentworth contemplated abandoning his grudge. What if he forgave Anne for her youthful follies? She might return to being normal and understandable if he did.

He inquired first. "Is my behaviour any explanation for your odd conduct?"

"I apologise if my conduct is odd. Yes, perhaps."

"I wonder if we could ignore the fact that you came here as a boy with a gun."

"Please."

"I hope you had not intended to force me to marry you with that gun." As he spoke the words, he got glimpses of Pirate Queen Anne -- who would have made him say yes.

"I thought we were going to ignore the gun," Anne pointed out. "But to answer you, it had crossed my mind, but I was not brave enough for it. However, I do not think you would have been so afraid as to acquiesce and that was another reason why I did not do it."

"Oh, not afraid. Amused perhaps." Two years later he was more capable of finding some amusement in the matter, he suddenly found. "I wish you had done it. It might have saved me a lot of trouble. I should not have had to look for arguments; I should have been able to defend myself by saying I was forced. Mind you, I was not in the right frame of mind two years ago."

"I am sorry."

"Apart from still having that gun and from being a trifle incomprehensible, you seem to have passed those two years well."

She chuckled. "I must admit that I took it out of its drawer for your benefit. I did not generally carry it in the past two years." She was probably more comprehensible than he thought. "I am not carrying it now either."

He led her on board. "Now that makes me feel very safe."

It was very easy, Anne discovered, to go from being a guest on board one evening to being Mrs Wentworth some five weeks later. No gun had been necessary; in fact, the captain had sold it and bought her some jewellery with that money. He considered himself forced nonetheless, but being forced appeared to suit him well.