Section I, Section II, Section III, Section IV

Part 11

tephen rode toward the Radcliffe house with an uneasy heart, tugging on his best Navy uniform for courage. His dreams last night had been full of Laura and the understanding they had reached, but the morning had awakened him with the knowledge that there was still one obstacle on the path: Laura's mother. Mrs. Radcliffe was nobody's fool and he knew the burden of proof would be his responsibility. She was aware of the difficulties ahead of Laura as a Navy wife and would require assurances from him. But if love and determination were enough to quell her misgivings, Stephen would prevail.

Laura met him at the door with a small smile, but Stephen did not miss the nervousness in her eyes. Surreptitiously, he clasped her hands and raised them to his lips, stilling their trembling gently.

"Mr. Elliot is here," Laura whispered, "I have not had a moment to speak with mother."

Better and better, Stephen thought caustically. Aloud, he soothed his fiancee, "All will be well, my love," he said with more conviction than he felt. "Trust me."

"I do," she smiled, "completely."

She took his arm and led him to the parlor. Samuel seemed discomfitted by Stephen's appearance and the obvious attachment Laura and he displayed. Laura, to her credit, did not immediately or timidly drop his arm, utilizing her hold as a clear sign to her mother of her preference. Stephen silently thanked his fiancee for her support and avowal of their mutual affection.

Mrs. Radcliffe did not miss her daughter's message. A small amused smile made a brief appearance as her eyes flickered over both their faces and their linked arms before propriety forced them to separate. Stephen accepted a cup of tea but nothing else, listening with faint amusement as Samuel tried to recapture Mrs. Radcliffe's attention. An awkward half-hour passed before Mrs. Radcliffe deemed a socially acceptable time had passed and began to thank Samuel for his visit.

Samuel was never one to accept dismissal -- especially not from someone whom he considered socially inferior, despite his attention to her daughter. He made a pointed invitation to the Radcliffe ladies to accompany him back to Kellynch. Stephen took it all in stride, silently watching the displeasure race vaguely over Mrs. Radcliffe's expression and too nervous to take offense to his cousin's deliberate attempts to distance him from the rest of the party.

"That is a very kind offer, Mr. Elliot, but I must decline on all our behalves," Mrs. Radcliffe demurred. "Today bodes to be a busy day for us all, and I believe I have some business to conduct with Lieutenant Wentworth."

Stephen nodded quietly as she spoke. Defeated and seething, Samuel withdrew and took his leave. Stephen stood as his cousin left and remained standing as the focus of attention swung to him.

Mrs. Radcliffe turned from the door toward her daughter in one fluid movement. "Leave us, Laura," she commanded softly. Laura quickly complied but spared a smile of encouragement to Stephen as she passed.

Mrs. Radcliffe took her seat and arranged her dress and hands daintily and with great care before giving her complete and silent attention to Stephen.

Stephen nervously cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back, hope she did not detect their trembling. "Thank you, madam. I have come today because your daughter, Laura, has consented to be my wife. On her behalf, as well as my own, I respectfully request the honor of her hand and your blessing for our union."

Mrs. Radcliffe regarded him for a long moment, and Stephen called on all his military training to retain a stoic demeanor and prevent any fidgeting. He drew himself straight and tall, using his height and darkness in much the same way he did to command sailors. He was aware that many men under his watchful eye were intimidated by his stature. But Mrs. Radcliffe was made of stronger stuff. She chuckled.

"Sit down, young man. Don't bother towering over me."

Stephen felt stiff as he settled into a chair.

"So my daughter has accepted your proposal?" He nodded in reply. "When?"

"Yesterday."

"Well, you're nothing if not prompt. I'm glad neither of you was interested in a secret engagement."

Stephen was confused, "Why would we wish to hide anything?"

"I have made no secret of my preference of Mr. Elliot's suit."

Stephen's brows drew together, "No, madam, that was no secret. But it made the need for your blessing and understanding all the more pressing. Miss Radcliffe and I have nothing to be ashamed of or to hide."

"I'm very glad to hear it." Mrs. Radcliffe replied smoothly. "I had brief visions that my obvious preferences would have forced secrets to be kept under my nose. I have aspirations for daughters, Mr. Wentworth, but above all I want them to be happy. I thought Mr. Elliot a suitable match for Laura, but it appears she had other plans for her life." She regarded a somber Stephen for a moment. "Tell me, Lieutenant, how do you plan to take care of her? I hope you are not depending on her dowry coupled with what you earn to see you both through?"

Stephen was prepared for this objection. "I understand your apprehension, ma'am. Soldier and sailors are not known for making comfortable incomes. But I assure you that my potential to earn from profiteers and special missions is greater than average. I have done well to date. Beyond that however, my family connections have settled comfortable sums on both my sister and myself. We are well provided."

Mrs. Radcliffe raised her eyebrows questioningly and Stephen saw that he would have to be more specific if he was to be believed. "Both my father and late uncle, Admiral Croft, did very well during the wars with France. Since our wealth is not tied to land, titles or inheritance, my uncle settled a goodish income on us upon his death. My father has made the same arrangements upon his passing -- though I sincerely hope that event is a long time in coming. In any case, I give you my word that Laura will want for nothing. I would sell all I owned to make sure she is provided for always."

The reply satisfied Mrs. Radcliffe. "Good, good. I must admit the seeming lack of security was a great concern for me. As a mother, I have the obligation to ensure my daughters have every opportunity to make good connections and be well cared for."

"Of course," Stephen agreed mildly, though he could not help but wonder that Samuel would prove himself less of a catch after marriage than everyone supposed. "My parents expressed the same concerns when my sister wished to marry." He smiled disarmingly at the older woman, "Undoubtedly, I will attempt to be intimidating when my own children venture in this direction."

Mrs. Radcliffe laughed, "Do you find me formidable, Lieutenant?"

"I admire your fortitude, ma'am. The futures of the Misses Radcliffe could not be better managed." She raised an amused eyebrow at his careful reply. Stephen was encouraged and proceeded with confidence. "If it is my pedigree that is a concern, please do not be uneasy. My mother is an Elliot of Kellynch Hall, second daughter of the Late Sir Walter Elliot and sister to the current Lady Elliot. She numbers among her friends and acquaintances both the titled and untitled families in England. My father is a respected Admiral in the Royal Navy, as was my uncle Croft. England's wars feature a large number of heroic Wentworths.

"But, ma'am, nothing can recommend my family better than my parents themselves. They raised my sister and I by example -- teaching through their actions that affection, honesty and determination can overcome all obstacles in the path to happiness. You will not find another couple so loved and admired by their acquaintances than my parents."

"It is to your credit that your appreciate all they tried to teach you. It speaks well of you as a son and as a gentleman." Mrs. Radcliffe's expression was warming as their conversation continued. "I suppose, sir, all that remains to settle is the state of your affections for each other? I know my daughter well enough to be secure that she would not accept a man she had no affection for. But, you, do you love my daughter? She will be disappointed if you hold her in anything less than devotion."

"I do, I love her deeply." Stephen said simply, letting the depth of emotion show through as Laura's image flashed in his mind. "I did not come to Somerset to fall in love. If someone had forewarned me I would have either laughed or run the other way. I have wanted the same kind of love that my parents share, but never expected to find it. Then I met Laura. Securing her affection has been like completing a puzzle I did not know had a missing piece."

"You are a very eloquent young man. You are satisfied, then, that she returns your affection to the degree that you wish?"

"I am."

Mrs. Radcliffe sighed deeply. "I knew it would be difficult to give up my girls when the time came. But I am content with Laura's choice. I give you both my blessing and look forward to calling you my son."

Stephen could not suppress the smile of happiness that split his face. He stood and bowed deeply, wanting to dance around the room.

"I do have one request however," came the comment that stilled his heart with sudden fear. "I know that your profession will take you to far away places and that my daughter will not be happy unless she is by your side. But promise me that you will bring her home for visits...especially when I become a grandmother."

Stephen blushed, "I promise, madam."

She patted his arm as he straightened and waved him out of the room. "Go and inform Laura. I will have time enough to speak to her later. Be careful not to step on Samantha in the hallway. Laura has undoubtedly cajoled her sister into pressing her ear against the door."

Stephen laughed and complied. He held his sigh of relief until the parlor door closed behind him. It was not Samantha waiting in the hallway, however, but Laura herself. She was sitting on a bench a small distance from the door and jumped up when he appeared. She hurried to his side and began pulling him toward the other end of the house.

"You were talking for a long time," she said softly as they stepped out the back door toward Laura's studio.

"Your mother is very thorough," He replied calmly.

Laura flushed, "Was it very bad?"

She could make admirals cry, Stephen thought wryly. Aloud he replied, "Not really." The privacy of the studio afforded Stephen a welcome opportunity to pull Laura firmly into his arms. "I'm afraid it is official, my love. You must resign yourself to seeing my face for the rest of your life."

She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest as her arms wrapped around him. "I can scarcely believe it. But I don't think I have ever been happier."

"Good," he replied solemnly, lifting her face to his. He kissed her long and well, delighted that they fit so well together and that her lips were quickly learning the lessons his were eager to teach.

Word of their engagement spread quickly outside of their family circle. The congratulations came pouring in and so did the invitations to dine and call on several families. Anne and Frederick Wentworth had been ecstatic at the news, sparking a warm correspondence between Anne and Laura. Jessica and Ethan sent their congratulations as well as an invitation to visit them in London. The Musgroves had been less than surprised, though Aunt Mary sniffed about secrets being kept in the house. Walter was encouraged both by Stephen's successful suit and the promise from Reverend Wentworth to assist him in his career.

The only silence was from Kellynch Hall where no congratulations or invitations were sent. The snub was noticed by Aunt Mary, who wondered aloud what the Elliots could possibly mean by ignoring such a wonderful family event. Laura and Stephen merely exchanged happy glances that signaled their full understanding of the Elliot reticence to join in the festivities.

As flattering as the new attention was for the couple, it was also an annoyance, for now they spent less time alone than ever. Stephen longed for the solace of Laura's arms as he listened to the advice of one matron or another throughout the endless rounds of social calls made especially to them. What was more, Mrs. Radcliffe had proven herself canny once again, insisting that Samantha accompany her sister everywhere as a proper chaperone. While the attachment was formed through stolen private moments, Mrs. Radcliffe was determined that the courtship would be nothing but the height of respectability. Stephen knew that Laura had protested the arrangement until she was presented with a choice of Samantha or her mother as a chaperone.

In a way, she was doing them a favor. While maintaining the appearance of propriety by sending Samantha as a guardian, she also gave Stephen the opportunity to select the appropriate distraction.

Three days after the announcement, Stephen showed up as usual on the Radcliffe doorstep. They had arranged for a walk around the Uppercross grounds and he calmly escorted the sisters toward the more scenic route. Samantha was trailing behind lazily, her desire to afford them every opportunity for privacy unfortunately leading to long hours of solitude and boredom.

Laura was holding tightly onto his arm, but Stephen knew she was continually glanced back in concern. "Stephen, I feel awful for my sister. We can't be very good company for her."

He sighed. "Poor girl must be bored to tears. I have to admit I have not been very gallant to your sister in my desire to keep you to myself. Come, let's not be antisocial," He stopped and waited for Samantha to catch up. He kept his eyes averted from Laura's penetrating glance, knowing the excited gleam would give away his plans.

Samantha was not paying attention to them and nearly collided into her sister as she walked. She was surprised to see them staring laughingly at her. "I'm sorry!" She laughed. "My mind must have wandered."

"I am not surprised," Stephen said, "for Laura and I are hardly fit for company lately."

"No! No..." Samantha protested good naturedly. "I can't imagine myself being anything less than an intrusion."

Laura hugged her sister tightly. "You are my best friend and will never been an intrusion."

"I agree," Stephen ventured gallantly. "The fault lies with me. I have not yet introduced you, either of you, to my sister Jessica. I can assure you that she know all the ways to forcibly focus my attentions!"

"Your attentions seemed focused enough to me," Samantha teased. "We are even in agreement about its direction."

"You are too kind," Stephen said as Laura blushed and giggled. "But I will soon be your brother as well. Jessie has no qualms telling me when I have been less than a gentleman ... I cannot but afford you the same privileges." He offered his arm to both the ladies and began leading them to his favorite spot. "Besides, I have planned something that will be to all of our liking, I think."

He led them to a picturesque spot where the grass was brilliantly green and littered with wildflowers of every variety. The women gasped in delight and almost missed the sight of Walter lounging comfortably with a picnic basket. Samantha came to a halt as Walter stood, shyly turning her eyes to the ground.

Laura beamed at Stephen for a brief minute before stepping up behind her tongue-tied sister to inquire, "And what brings you to our little outing, sir?"

Walter had eyes only for Samantha, but smiled at Laura as he crisply replied, "I am Stephen's designated chaperone, madam."

Stephen joined in the laughter and helped Walter pitch a large tent. The ladies spread a blanket and some pillows around and began unpacking the picnic lunch the Uppercross kitchen had prepared for them. With the ease of family relations and deep affection, the foursome laughed and talked as they ate. Laura leaned contentedly against Stephen's shoulder as an after lunch languidness turned talk into contemplation. Stephen relished her soft weight against him, playing idly with errant curls as he watched her eyes drift downward in sleep. Samantha and Walter were talking quietly in their corner, their voices low and intimate. Stephen watched them surreptitiously, silently encouraging his cousin to seize the moment. His attention drifted as Laura shifted in his arms, coming to rest more fully against him as she dozed.

Samantha glanced their way once and smiled at Stephen. She and Walter stood up, whispered their intentions to take a stroll and left them alone. Stephen watched them until they were out of sight, smiling that his plan both to bring Walter and Samantha together, as well as spend a private moment with Laura had worked.

"Thank you," came a sleepy voice by his shoulder, "for making my sister so happy today."

He looked down at the glittering eyes that regarded him with love. He bent her backward so she reclined on the pillows, retaining a strong arm around her all the while. "You are very welcome, though I must admit my motives were not altogether altruistic."

She smiled as her arms came around his neck, "I will not question your methods or motives today, sir. I am too full of sandwiches and good company."

"We are not in company, now..."

"No..."

He bent down toward her, watching her eyes flutter closed in anticipation. He teased her for a few moments, using his lips to trace the delicate lines of her cheek and chin, the tickle of her lashes and the delightful upturn of her nose. He felt the soft explosion of breath from her lips as she sighed her impatience. Laughing softly, he acquiesced and took her lips with determination, leaving no room for thought or regret for either of them.

Time had made them practiced and Stephen felt the desire between them building. It was a sweet reward for their union. Stephen had heard so many stories of women who could not bear their husbands, and husbands who had sought comfort from other, warmer arms than those they had wed. Stephen had no fears for himself and Laura. From the very beginning, she had met his ardour on equal terms, matching affection with affection and desire with desire. She was inexperienced and unsure, but she trusted completely that he would not hurt her or press his advances beyond respectability.

The lines between desire and respectability became fuzzy for both of them when locked in each others arms. Stephen longed for completion, for the moment when he did not have to break away for fear that he would dishonor her. Laura, dazzled and confused by the fervor of her feelings, fared little better. Over and over, their lips met and fused, heat and love and intimacy flooding through their veins. She was so soft, her skin like silk against his mouth and he could not resist drifting down the column of her neck till the fabric of her collar scratched him gently. He traced his way back up slowly, unable to break away and knowing he must soon before they both lost all control. Her arms slid from his neck, palms flat against his chest and he was sure she could feel the heart pounding there.

He pulled her closer and tighter but was surprised when the hands that had caressed became insistent in pushing him off her. Laura gave a great shove and Stephen released her to roll away face down on the picnic cloth. She pressed a trembling hand against her lips and sat up. He groaned his frustration, one eye peeking past his arms toward her to make sure she was not angry.

She smiled down at him tremulously, "I know...it's desperate, isn't it? I can't tell right from wrong anymore when I'm with you."

Stephen pushed himself upright and sat back on his heels regarding her. Laura was making desperate swipes at her hair, trying to undo the damage his fingers had caused. Perversely he wanted to plunge his hands deeper into the strands until they tumbled down over her shoulders. "We need to set a date...the sooner the better."

Her eyes swung toward him with more than a hint of humor. "Are you in a hurry?"

He grinned wolfishly, "You know I am. I can barely remember my name after one of our... sessions."

"Is that what it's called?" Laura smiled. "Then tell me, when would you like to tie the knot?"

"Tomorrow?"

She laughed, "Be serious."

"I am more serious than you think." Stephen sighed. "Two months? Is that a respectable amount of time?" She nodded. "I will set about getting the license then."

"Where will we marry? Here or in Lyme?" Laura frowned. "I'm afraid Radcliffe house would not be large enough to accommodate our combined relatives for the wedding breakfast."

Stephen felt a headache coming on. "Neither would our home in Lyme. Uppercross is certainly large enough."

Laura flushed, "It would be an imposition to your aunt."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Let me work on it." Stephen positioned himself so his head was supported on her lap. Absently, she began to caress his hair. "In the meantime, I suggest you start trying on wedding gowns!"

Walter and Samantha returned to find the couple deep in discussion about the future.

That night Stephen had difficulty sleeping. He was making a list of all the arrangements he needed to make and all the guests he had to invite to the wedding. The enormousness of the event was starting to jangle his nerves. If only it were enough to simply be together without the entire circus performance, he thought, wishing for a quiet ceremony instead of the large affair Mrs. Radcliffe was determined to have. He penned a letter to his mother, asking for her advice and help in securing a location for the service and reception.

Stephen sighed as he folded and sealed the letter. He stood up and paced his room, the nightshirt whispering against his skin. He stood by the window, looking out at the darkened gardens of the estate and wondering what life would be like with Laura. For all the trouble planning a wedding brought, there was not a single trace of regret in his heart. Stephen was sure that Laura was the completion he had been waiting for and he would do anything to keep her by his side.

A thought occurred suddenly. There was still one matter that needed resolving. Seating himself at the desk again, Stephen inked his quill and began a new letter to Charles at Dorset.

Charles,

I hope this letter finds you well and that you have won at least one game of chess with your father-in-law. I have the best of reasons to write to a scoundrel like you. Laura Radcliffe has agreed to be my wife, and we are planning a wedding in two months. I know you will wish us all the best. I hope Walter will not tarry in securing Miss Samantha Radcliffe's hand. Then we shall all be old married men who escape with the dogs to go shooting.

There is one matter of concern to me: our bet. I never needed hindsight to see it was ill conceived from the very beginning, but you must understand that it is imperative we end it here and now. I concede defeat. Completely. There, are you satisfied? You will have to come home to claim your prize money. It is well earned. I could not be happier at the prospect of being joined with Miss Radcliffe. She is undoubtedly the woman to keep a ruffian like me in line!

But let me be clear. If word of this escapade ever reaches ears other than yours, Walter's or mine -- heaven forbid it ever reaches Laura's -- I will thrash you unmercifully.

Your affectionate cousin,
Stephen Wentworth

Stephen felt a burden lift from his shoulders as he folded and sealed the letter. It was done, the last thing in the way to true bliss. With an easy conscience, Stephen blew out all the candles and slid into bed, dreaming of the time when he would encounter his beloved waiting for him there.

Stephen ground his fingers into the tree in an attempt at self-control. He felt the bark cutting into him painfully, but not painfully enough to break away from Laura. She was leaning back against the oak, both arms around him as they pressed together in their most passionate embrace yet.

Stephen was dizzy, completely intoxicated by her and their mutual need to be closer than was yet permissible. He could feel her passion and reveled in the knowledge that no one else had ever or would ever be privy to such responses from her. She was his and he would keep her.

She tore her lips away with a small gasp and he buried his face in the softness of her hair. Her bonnet had gone askew and his hat was God knows where, but nothing mattered except preventing even the smallest space to be created between them. He breathed in the essence of wildflowers that was intrinsic to every encounter and memory of her.

Laura leaned her forehead on his chest, her breath still as harsh and erratic as his own. "Stephen," she whispered without looking up, "do all couples feel like this?"

"I don't know," he murmured. "If they are truly in love, I suppose they do."

Laura drew back slowly and Stephen could see her mind working. There was a slight grimace as her thoughts took an unknown turn and Stephen waited for her to reveal what was troubling her. She looked up at him warily, "Have you known...other women...before me?"

Stephen hesitated, knowing this was delicate, tricky ground. "I have never loved anyone else, Laura."

"That is not what I asked," She sighed and slipped out from under him. His reply did not satisfy her and she was determined to settle her fears. Stephen allowed her to leave his side, knowing that these questions were inevitable as their intimacy grew. Laura made a show of realigning her bonnet, but Stephen had grown attuned to her mood enough to know that she was deep in thought.

"Were there many women for you, Stephen?"

"Not exactly..." Stephen sighed deeply and took her hands gently. "I am seven and twenty, Laura. I have studied, traveled and lived in the world independently for a long time. Yes, I have admired other women in the past. I have been...intimate...with a couple," he saw her eyes darken and shift away from his. "I never loved any of them. There is a great difference between love and passion. For men, they are often exclusive of each other."

She looked almost bereft for a moment. "Which am I?" She inquired wistfully.

He took her in his arms. She resisted, but he was determined to hold her close. "You are both, my love. And I will love and want you and no other for as long as we live. We have been blessed with a rarity. Do not doubt that."

She settled against him, soothed by his words and touch. "I'm being silly, I know. It's just that...well...women are expected to stay at home and be quiet and refined. You have no surprises in me. But men's lives are so diverse and active and mysterious. I fear there will be so much that I will never know or understand about you and that frightens me."

He rested his chin on the top of her head as he considered her words. There were indeed secrets that men kept to protect the fairer sex. "There are many things in life I would protect you from. There are many things that you will learn after you leave your mother's house. I promise that you need only ask me if you want to know something. I pledge to tell you the truth as I know it."

"In everything?"

"In everything."

"And you will not laugh at me when I am stupid?"

Stephen looked down at her in surprise. "You are the furthest thing from stupid. I have never met a woman with so strong a sense of self and so deep an understanding of life and the people around her. It is what first drew me to you. I wanted to understand what had happened in your life to make you so profound."

"And what made you stay?"

He smiled and kissed the edges of her mouth. "Every moment with you makes my life more profound. I am quite addicted."

He was well rewarded by her for long moments, although she broke off with a giggle. "I am not sure being called an addiction is a compliment, sir."

Stephen grinned, relieved that they had weathered a difficult topic. "I will have to search for a better compliment then."

"Yes, but I will be benevolent today and not press for an immediate answer. I must return home."

"So soon?"

Laura smiled mischievously. "I am supposed to be working alone in my studio." She kissed him one last time and bade farewell. Stephen watched for a few moments and turned back toward Uppercross.

The wind ruffled his hair sweetly as he strolled. There would be few enough days of leisure as the wedding drew near and the rumor of new orders circulated. Stephen spared a brief thought to the future and what the Navy would ask of him. But he could not keep his thoughts on such somber reflections, not when there was a softer, dearer person to reflect on.

So deep was he in his thoughts that he did not see Charles until the latter thumped him on the arm.

"Wake up, man! When I got your letter I expected more smiles than I'd ever seen on your face before...but not this! You're practically lovesick!"

Stephen smiled at his cousin. "When did you get back?"

"Today. Blast it all to hell, Stephen! You know better than to threaten me with violence!" Charles laughed. "As if any such threat would dampen my crowing over you!"

"Crow all you like. I still think I am the richer man."

"All men in the first flush of impending matrimony do. It's the inevitable offspring of so much anticipation." Charles said. "Where are my five pounds?"

"You will get them soon enough." Stephen laughed. "How was your tenure at Dorset."

"Unbearably boring. Compared to Uppercross, there is hardly any game to be had in that county at all. And I grow to detest chess more and more."

"Surely there was some enjoyment in the time there?"

"I suppose. The old man is quite witty and entertaining. Pity he has lost his health. He had deteriorated even more in the last year. It distressed my wife so much I could not deny her the extension of our stay by another week."

"I wondered why you volunteered to stay on."

"Well, obligations and such...you will come to know them soon enough when you are wed."

Stephen smiled. "Did the news surprise you? It was meant to!"

"I am still in shock! You were only supposed to gain her respect, Stephen! Not marry her! Have you compromised her? Is that it? No, no...you are much too honorable and so is she. I must say, I've never seen this result to a wager before."

Stephen laughed with his cousin and almost missed the rustle of leaf and fabric behind him. He turned curiously, still smiling and encountered an unexpected face. His smile faded as he took in her pale, shocked expression...and his hat held in her hands.

"You...you forgot your hat..." she whispered, her voice a shaky thread of sound.

He stepped forward quickly and retrieved it, brushing her hands with his as the exchange was made. She flinched. She inclined her head in response to his thanks and spun around, hurrying away from him through the glade.

"God Almighty!" Stephen burst forth and pushed his legs to follow her. He was restrained by Charles' gripping his arm.

"I didn't know she was there!" Charles said, and Stephen briefly saw the panic in his cousin's face. "I swear on my honor, I did not know!"

"Let me go, man," Stephen said desperately. "I have to find her!" Stephen tore through the glade, searching for Laura wildly. His thoughts were panicked, all his nightmares come true. He inhaled painfully when he caught sight of her, sitting crumpled beside a fallen log. Her knees were draw up and her arms were anchored around them. Her head was bent until her face was obscured by her knees. He swallowed nervously, trying to control the rampaging beat of his heart as he quietly approached.

She looked up, dry-eyed, as his shadow fell over her. He knew he had to say something, but words failed him. There was a new expression on her face and it cut him to the quick. Disgust.

"I hope you assured Mr. Musgrove that neither of us has been compromised? I would not wish the neighborhood to assume that I sacrificed my honor to secure you." There was a steely tone to her that sent a shiver through Stephen.

"He knows better that to think that."

"You hope." She corrected softly. She looked past him into the field, a remoteness settling on her face. "Tell me about this wager."

Stephen swallowed and hesitated.

Her eyes swung toward him, "You promised me, just today, to answer all my questions honestly. Are you a man of your word?"

His chin lifted proudly. "I am."

"Then tell me everything."

She listened silently as he recounted the day they met and the subsequent conversation. She did not look at him as he spoke and he wanted to touch her, to bring her back from that emotionless place in which she had locked herself. But he did not dare. He did not dare.

"Mr. Musgrove challenged that even if you could gain my regard, I would not have you? And you bet that you could gain my regard."

"Respect. Not regard. We were not so callous as that."

She shrugged, refusing to allow the difference. "There is no winner. You are in a stalemate." He did not reply, confusion marring his countenance. "You did gain my regard, but I will not have you now."

Stephen felt the blood rushing away from his face. "NO!"

"Who else knows?" She asked in the same neutral tone.

"Only Walter because he was there."

She nodded vaguely. He wanted to shake her, do something to make her acknowledge him. He could not...would not lose her to this.

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much did you wager?"

"Five pounds."

Inexplicably, she began to laugh. It had none of her joyousness and zest for life. It rang of bitterness and betrayal and the sound jangled through Stephen. She refused his help as she struggled to get up. He gripped her arms tightly anyway, fearing that she would leave him if he let go. She stared into his eyes and now he saw the slow burning anger there.

"I thought I was more than that...at least as much as my dowry," she said softly. "But I suppose that you would still consider yourself a winner. What is five pounds in the face of five thousand?"

"Your dowry has nothing to do with us. I love you and I want to marry you because I love you."

She stepped away from him, struggling to tear herself out of his tightening grip. "Let me go. You're hurting me."

"If I let you go, you'll leave me."

"I'm already gone." She said softly. His breath left him in a small explosion. It turned into a sob, the first Stephen had ever uttered in his adult life.

"NO! I love you! You have to believe me!"

She sniffed sardonically, "No one who loved me could do what you did."

"Don't do this. The wager was a stupid, senseless thing I didn't know how to get away from. I never expected to love you and when I did, I despaired of your returning it! Don't give this up."

"You're bruising me, Lieutenant Wentworth."

The implacability in her voice drew him out of his desperation. He realized how brutally he was holding her in his fear and released her. He knew what she deserved was gentleness, not force. But the fear of losing her still gripped him and he would not allow himself to acknowledge that she meant to end their engagement.

"Laura, please, listen to me."

"I did listen to you," she said softly and now the shine of tears were visible as she rubbed her bruised wrists. "I listened to you when you talked of honor, of how you admired your parents, of how you loved me."

"I do love you."

She shook her head. "I never thought I would be relieved if your attentions stemmed from some misguided wish to best Samuel Elliot. For all his superiority, at least his motives were always clear. In the end, he was more honest than you." Stephen stood ramrod straight with shock, each word piercing him to the core. "I promised myself a long time ago that I would never engage in ... matrimonial commerce. I thought my dowry would protect me and that I could afford to wait...to choose. I wanted to marry for love. I was about to marry for love." She looked at Stephen, tears streaming unchecked down her beloved face. "I was so careful. I'd seen all the ways of bartering and bargaining for a bride. But I never considered I could be won in a bet."

Stephen could neither move nor speak. There was so much pain in her face and he was its source. But she was speaking again.

"Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness. I hope life treats you well."

He began to shake his head in confusion. It was too final. It was unacceptable. It was killing him. She began to make her way home, striding with head bent. He kept pace, calling her name when she turned her face away, touching her gently to gain her attention. He chased her determinedly till the edge of town. She stopped and wiped her face, taking deep breaths to calm the riot of color on her cheeks.

"Stop following me."

"I can't. I don't accept this."

"You have to. It's over." He denied it once again and grabbed her hand when she would have left him. "Lieutenant Wentworth! Stephen," her use of his Christian name stilled him. "Please...if you ever had any regard for me at all. Please leave me be."

He felt her hand slip from his and wondered if it was the last time he would ever touch her. She made her way home and he stood watching her. All will be well if she looks back, he thought. Look at me, Laura. Just once. Look back. Give me hope. He watched as her figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it faded from sight. She did not look back.

Author's note: I took a little bit of creative license in this chapter. I couldn't find an old sonnet or poem I liked so instead used Sarah Maclachlan's song lyrics to "Song For A Winter's Night."

Part 12

ive me another one."

"Beggin' yer pardon sir, I think ye has had enuf..."

Stephen glared at the barkeep with all the naval authority he could muster. "Don't make me come over there," he said softly.

The barkeep looked startled, then panicked, recognizing the absolute truth in the threat. He brought Stephen another ale and scurried away, nearly knocking down Walter in his haste.

Walter looked at the man in astonishment as he brushed his coat straight. A sharp glance at Stephen seemed to satisfy any curiosity as to the man's fleetness of foot. Walter ordered a drink for himself and settled down across from Stephen.

"Did you talk to her?"

"I did."

"And?"

"She wouldn't read it. Wouldn't take from my hand. I'm sorry." Walter placed a carefully pressed letter down on the tabletop. Stephen's hand engulfed it and quickly shoved it into a pocket.

She is still angry, he thought. It has only been a week. Laura had not responded to any of his attempts to reconcile. She refused his calls and returned his letters unopened. Samantha had been adamant about not helping him, as a sister should be, he supposed. Stephen could find no avenue through which he might have more than a fleeting glance of Laura, more than a fraction of a second to make his declarations heard. She had hardened her heart against him.

And yet he believed it might still turn out well. He was not prepared to lose.

Walter cleared his throat. "Are you all right, Stephen?"

Stephen only glared at him.

"It's not my fault she found out!" Walter said defensively, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Be grateful I am willing to play messenger boy! I have a feeling you'll have to find someone else soon anyway."

"Why?"

"Because Samantha is upset at me as well."

"For what?"

"For knowing about the bet. She wasn't the least surprised that I didn't wager anything myself. She says that it's only proof that I have nothing to wager with!"

Stephen smiled bitterly at his cousin, "At least she is still speaking to you."

"How did it happen, Stephen? How did Miss Radcliffe find out?"

Stephen choked in the telling of it, of how Charles' blunder ruined his engagement. He did not spare himself any blame, however. "In the end, it is still my fault. I knew the wager was reprehensible from the very beginning. I should never have taken it. If only I had known then..."

Walter looked on sympathetically. "Hindsite is always clearer than foresight, my friend."

Stephen looked at him, "I have not given her up yet, Walter. I cannot...I will not!"

"Nor did I expect you to. Though it would be remiss of me not to warn you that news of the broken engagement is spreading. Mrs. Radcliffe had half a mind to throw me out of the house, but she wanted to know why the engagement was broken first!"

The news snapped Stephen into alertness, "Laura didn't tell her." He said with wonder. "She didn't tell her!" He leaned forward and slapped Walter's arm. "That must be a good sign! If she meant to end any chance for reconciliation, she would firmly turn her mother against me!" Stephen laughed and slapped Walter's arm a couple more times in his exuberance.

"Stop beating me you military heathen!" Walter shouted as he rubbed his sore appendage. "Of course she left a back door open, why do you think I am telling you this?"

"What is it she wants me to do? Grovel publicly?"

Walter shook his head, "I think it is a little more complicated than that. I don't think Miss Radcliffe has withheld information from her mother purposely. I doubt she realizes that she is keeping a path open for you."

"What are you talking about Walter?"

"Think on this. Miss Radcliffe, out of shame or anger, has chosen to keep silent, except for Samantha, on the reason for ending the engagement. She has chosen to direct all her time and effort into avoiding you. Her mother has no cause to bar you from pursuing her still, since everyone is assuming that Miss Radcliffe simply had a change of heart. Society is aware of the engagement being broken, but right now, you are in sympathy with the old ladies' circle. For all they see is a broken hearted young man trying to win back his fickle lady. There has been no explanation to what made the breach."

Stephen stared at his cousin with a dark frown. "Are these ladies ostracising Laura? You know I could not allow that!"

Walter rolled his eyes, "No, no...from what I have gathered it is merely gossip and rumors. But you can use this to your advantage."

"I cannot. How can I take advantage of such a terrible situation?"

"Do you love her?" A nod.

"Do you want her back?" Another nod.

"Have you tried every acceptable means to communicate with her?" A sigh and a final nod. "Well, there you have it!" Walter declared triumphantly. "Having failed to achieve your goal through traditional methods, you must now use innuendo and subterfuge."

"Why do I feel like I am digging an even deeper hole?"

"Because you haven't had enough to drink," Walter said. "You need to listen to me. I am almost a man of the cloth."

"God help the faithful when they ordain you."

"Don't sneer, it doesn't suit you. Besides, I don't hear any brilliant plans issuing from your mouth."

Stephen sighed and had to admit he had run out of imagination. "I suppose you have a brilliant plan."

"Naturally, but first, we need to take care of something." Walter raised his walking stick at the barkeep. "Come here, man!" The barkeep approached cautiously. "I wish to open a tab," Walter said cheerfully. "Five pounds total. Include all the drinks we've ordered to date. And I want to buy a round for everyone here."

The man's eyes grew round at Walter's generosity, "And your name, sir?"

Walter smiled widely at Stephen before responding, "Mr. Charles Musgrove Jr."

Three days later, Stephen was nervously brushing off imaginary specks from his blue coat as he waited in the evening parlour. The clock struck three in the afternoon and each gong made him wince. Walter was being particularly mysterious about today's plans, only that they were invited to tea at Mrs. Wallingford's. Stephen had only met the lady once and could not imagine what he would have to say to her during tea.

Walter came in before the clock stopped chiming, the reverberating sound not affecting his cheerful whistling for one moment. He took a moment to examine Stephen's appearance critically. "You will do." Walter declared. "You have the happy combination of height and a becoming uniform. Mrs. Wallingford will be all agog."

"Why are we going there Walter?" Stephen asked plaintively. "I don't even know the woman."

"Because she has invited Misses Laura and Samantha Radcliffe to tea as well."

Stephen's heart began to hammer and his breath shorten as his nervousness increased tenfold.

"Get that look off your face, man!" Walter said. "Where is your confidence? We are off to slay dragons! Show no fear!" Stephen felt his eagerness growing as Walter began walking toward the front doors. He hurried to follow.

Charles Musgrove Senior was coming out of his study, spectacles resting on the tip of his nose, "Charles? Charles! Oh hello Walter, Stephen...where is Charles?"

Both cousins shrugged.

"Walter," Musgrove Sr. continued, peering at a paper in his hand, "Do you know anything of Charles carousing at the Horse and Crown last week?"

"Carousing, sir?" Walter asked innocently as Stephen turned away to hide a smirk.

"That is the only word I can find for it," said the gentleman. "Five pounds of liquor and several free rounds for the tavern patrons leads to quite a night, I imagine!"

"I can't even begin to imagine it." Walter said with a straight face. Stephen's shoulders began to shake with the effort of holding in his laughter. Walter, ever alert, began to push him out the door. "Well, we're off for the afternoon. Good-bye father!"

Mr. Musgrove waved them away distractedly, his other hand scratching the little strands of white hair that remained on his head.

The door shut behind them, the cousins seated themselves on their horses and, with rollicking laughter, were on their way into town.

Stephen's nervousness increased as they were escorted to the parlour where he could already distinguish Laura's voice in conversation with the other women. He sought her eyes immediately, noting her obvious surprise and the way color flooded her cheeks at his entrance.

He bowed at his hostess as she greeted them with equanimity. There was a short silence around the table as tea was poured and sandwiches offered to the gentlemen. Stephen did not taste a thing, so fixed was his attention on Laura. Her eyes had fallen away from his and he did not know how to regain her attention or how to eke out a private moment in which to converse with her. The room seemed filled to capacity, though only Mrs. Wallingford, Samantha, Laura, Walter, and Stephen occupied the spacious room.

"I suppose you are wondering at the suddenness of my invitation," Mrs. Wallingford broke into the silence. "I had often thought that my late husband's library has been sadly neglected of late. He took a great deal of time and effort to accumulate such a vast and variety of books. It pains me to see it languish."

"I agree, madam." Walter piped in. "Books are meant to be read...not merely displayed."

"I agree wholeheartedly, young man."

What are these two talking about? Stephen wondered, aware that Laura's puzzlement matched his own. They shared a brief glance before her eyes again sought the floor.

"I propose to start a reading society, and I want the four of you to lead it!"

A reading society? Stephen frowned. What kind of drivel is this?

"What a wonderful idea," Samantha gushed. Laura gaped at her sister in surprise and Stephen realized that she was a part of this strange conspiracy. Walter was flashing him meaningful glances.

Apparently it's time for me to jump into the spirit of things, Stephen thought. Aloud he said, "It is intriguing. How are we to lead such a group?"

Mrs. Wallingford's cup clattered onto her saucer, "I have given this a great deal of thought. I have always believed that reading broadens young minds. But more so than that, reading aloud encourages the art of elocution."

Laura was staring at the woman as if she had lost her mind. "You want us to gather people to read aloud to each other?"

Mrs. Wallingford glanced quickly at Walter who nodded surreptitiously. "Well, yes, dear. I am more than happy to offer my library for a meeting place if I may enjoy the sound of a young voice reading sonnets or some such...book..." She cleared her throat and stood up suddenly. Walter and Stephen sprang to their feet in politeness, Walter's napkin falling to the floor. "Let us go there now. I want each of you to select a volume to be read today." With a swishing of skirts, the lady regally exited the room. Laura shot a disbelieving glance at her sister as they followed. Walter crammed a cucumber sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with some tea before following Stephen out of the room.

"I suppose this is all your idea." Stephen muttered. "Is Miss Samantha part of the plot as well?"

"Mmmmurrh..." Walter replied, his mouth still half full of sandwich.

Whatever that means, Stephen thought darkly and stepped into the largest library he had ever seen. He felt his jaw go slack at the sheer magnificence of the room. The walls were lined with the deepest mahogany, polished till it gleamed. Shelves had been inlaid into the walls, filled from floor to ceiling with hundreds of volumes. There were free standing shelves lining the back of the room, while the front of it was graced with comfortable armchairs and couches, set upon thick carpets by a huge fireplace.

"Now you can see why I would hate to see this place go to waste." Mrs. Wallingford said, her voice bouncing off the beams on the ceiling.

"It is magnificent, Mrs. Wallingford, truly awe inspiring." Laura said with feeling.

Stephen was gratified that even Walter had been stunned into silence. "I had no idea," Walter murmured.

"Browse through the shelves as you please," Mrs. Wallingford instructed. "I shall have our tea brought here." She left the two couples alone in the room.

They stood staring around them for a few minutes until Walter offered Samantha his arm and led her down to a row of books. This is it! Stephen thought. This is my chance! He stepped closer to her, but she turned her back and hurried away to the first set of shelves. He followed.

"Laura..."

"You will address me as Miss Radcliffe." She took a book from the shelf and flipped pages quickly.

"Why haven't you accepted my letters?"

"We are no longer engaged, sir. It would have been improper."

"Laura," She sent him an scolding glance. "Miss Radcliffe...if you will just allow me to speak with you."

"I can't seem to stop you, can I?" She replaced the book on the shelf and went to another shelf. "Stop following me."

"Please...listen to me for a moment...we can work through this...this..."

"This what?" She said challengingly.

"This estrangement."

"You are mistaken. There is no estrangement. There is only finality to our dealings with each other." Both their heads turned at the sound of the door. Mrs. Wallingford entered with a servant in tow. The tea things were carefully arranged and the lady waved at them cheerfully from across the room.

Stephen took Laura's arm and led her to a more private section between two tall shelves. "Laura, do not let your anger or your pride ruin our future."

She huffed at him angrily, "How dare you? When it was your ungentlemanly behavior that...that..."

"I made a mistake," he said softly. "And I have paid for it over and over again in knowing that you are hurt. But this is too drastic. I cannot believe that you would allow such a trifle to separate us."

"A trifle?" She echoed sadly. "You and your cousin placed a value on my pride and my friendship and my love. I pity you if those things are trifles. I value them much too highly to degrade them with a pound sign." She looked away. "And I will not marry a man who would treat my affection so lightly."

Stephen was suddenly aware that her pain went far deeper than he realized. "I did not know when this wager was made that we would come to mean so much to each other. And you do mean everything to me. That is why I cannot let this rest. We belong together. You know this as well as I. And I will not let you be rid of me."

Laura was about to retort when Mrs. Wallingford's voice interrupted from across the room, "Have you selected your readings? Please do and come back or the tea shall cool!" Laura sighed sadly and turned away. She grabbed a book at random from the shelf and made her way back to the seating area. Walter and Samantha were looking expressively at him, but he could not return the gazes.

"Well, what have you all selected?"

"Miss Samantha and I have selected Shakespeare's Sonnets, madam."

And you Miss Radcliffe?"

Laura looked down at the book in her hands before blushing a deep red, "Fordyce's Sermons," she whispered.

Mrs. Wallingford laughed. "Well that should provide some comedy to the evening, at the very least. Have you no volume to read to us, Lieutenant Wentworth?" Mrs. Wallingford asked.

"Ah...no...I'm sorry," Stephen stammered.

"Nevermind. You can read from the volume I selected. This is perhaps my favorite poem. Your penance, Lt. Wentworth is to read the marked passage aloud." She handed him a book with a page marked. "Read it strongly, I love the sound of voices echoing these walls."

Stephen cleared his throat and began to read, faltering as the words began to work their way into his consciousness...and to Laura's

The lamp is burning low upon my table top.
Snow is softly falling.
The air is still in the silence of my room.
I hear your voice softly calling

If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two.
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
on this winter's night with you.

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead.
My glass is almost empty.
I read again between the lines upon each page
the words of love you send me.

If I could know within my heart that you were lonely too.
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
on this winter's night with you.

The fire is dying.
My lamp is growing dim.
The shades of night are lifting.
Morning light steals across my window pane
where webs of snow are drifting.

If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
on this winter's night with you.
And you'd be once again with me.

His eyes found her face unerringly as the echo of his voice faded into the wooden walls. Her face was turned away from him but there was such a look of pain in it that his heart broke a little more to see it. She was biting her lip, and still it trembled. Samantha was looking at her sister with concern as Laura struggled for her composure.

"Mrs. Wallingford, I'm afraid we have overstayed our welcome," Samantha said quickly as Laura turned away from the group firmly. "My sister and I will discuss this venture with our mother if we may and call on you again later this week."

"Of course my dears, whenever you wish."

Samantha and Laura quickly left the room and the house, too quickly for Mrs. Wallingford or the gentlemen to do more than stand up. "We pushed her too far," Mrs. Wallingford whispered.

Stephen was staring longingly at the door, wanting to rush after Laura and knowing she would reject him again if he tried. He was startled by the warm hand that descended on his arm.

"Give her time," Mrs. Wallingford advised. "Marriage is a more frightening prospect for young women than it is for young men. That she was affected by your performance is telling enough. She will come around."

Stephen gave the lady a half hearted smile, wondering what advice she would give if she knew all the facts.

Stephen kept his eyes closed and tried to breathe in the lingering memory of wildflowers. She was "his Laura" only in his dreams now. He rolled over, feeling the whispers of linen sheets against his overheated body as he struggled to hold onto the dream that he was still loved by her.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes. The dawn had not yet broken over the horizon, but through the heavy curtains he could glimpse the lightening sky. His body was tired and shaken, beaten more by the strength of his thoughts and emotions than it had ever been at sea. His mind raced with endless thoughts and fears, never ceasing for a moment to give him rest. In such a state, being still was abhorrent, and so Stephen forced himself up and away from the bed, dressing for an early morning journey to London.

He had been silent on the way back from Mrs. Wallingford's home and had been met with an express message from Navy headquarters. He was summoned to London for his new orders. The news had weighed heavily on his heart, knowing that he must away in the morning and deathly afraid of leaving matters with Laura as they stood.

The stallion he favored was ready for him and with last minute instructions to the man bringing his trunks to Jessica's home, he set out on the road for London. The path took him through town and he rode past Laura's house, seeing very little activity within, wondering which was her windows and pushing down the urge to howl outside her door until she came out. He had come to a stop outside the home and turned in his knee to nudge his horse back into motion. He meandered slowly through the quiet streets and soon spotted a familiar figure walking slowly past the baker's shop.

He dismounted and called out. Laura stopped and looked at him in surprise. He hurried to her side, immeasurably grateful for the opportunity to speak to her.

"How are you?" He asked gently, though he saw the rings under her eyes and the tiredness of her slumped shoulders. "You frightened me yesterday with your departure." She shrugged and tightened her mouth. She began to walk again and he kept pace, pulling his horse along. "I had no idea what Walter and Mrs. Wallingford were up to, Laura. I swear it."

"I know. Samantha told me."

He was at a loss for words and despaired at the oppressive silence that descended between them.

"You are out early this morning," she commented softly. He warmed at her attempt to converse.

"I am off to London today."

Her face swung toward him with a stricken expression. He watched her swallow and look away, trying desperately to maintain an indifferent expression. It gave him hope for the first time since she broke with him.

"You are to visit your sister?"

"I have been summoned to Navy headquarters." Stephen replied softly. "I expect I will be receiving new orders. It is about the right time." He watched the import of his words sink in. She looked him full in the face, her eyes questioning.

"Then you will not be returning?" Her voice broke as she asked the question. "I never thought..." She left the sentence unfinished, but its meaning hovered in the air between them.

"I will eventually be asked to ship out again," Stephen confirmed. "That is the nature of my profession."

She looked away. "You would have left without saying good-bye?"

"Would you have allowed me into your home long enough to say it?" He asked and regretted it when a lone tear slipped down her cheek. He took his gloves off and reached a hand to caress her cheek, wiping away the tear. "I would not have left without a word. I will be back...for you, my love."

"Don't call me that." She whispered but did not pull away.

"Why not? That is what you are." He said simply. "I love you. I cannot be more plain than that. I have made a horrible, grievous error and do not doubt that I will do so again, unless you are there to guide me. I willingly submit the rest of my life to you, for you are the only woman who can make a good man of me. I will accept any punishment you deem worthy. Except separation. That would be cruel to us both." He kissed her cheek tenderly as they approached the Radcliffe residence. "Think of me while I am gone. Decide if my absence is truly what you wish. I will abide by your decision."

He waited as she made her way quietly into the dark house. She turned at the door to look at him and he raised a hand in farewell. She raised an answering one and entered. Satisfied that he had done his best, Stephen mounted his horse and recommenced his journey to London.

Continued in Section IV