The Best of Intentions

    By Cassie M


    Section I, Section II, Section III


    Chapter 7

    Sophy Croft was the next to pay Anne a visit. Again, there was the necessity of discussing the unpleasantness at Lyme. However, Mrs. Croft was an intelligent and practical woman, not given to fits or overblown sentiments. Coupled with Lady Russell's pragmatism and Anne's sensible nature, the business was gone over and done in short time.

    Anne found that she truly liked Frederick's sister. She had been charmed with the obvious affection and warmth of the Croft's marriage, and even well entertained by the absentminded gregariousness of the Admiral. In Sophy Croft, however, Anne found a kindred spirit - one who thought more of amiability and respect than the empty pastime of social climbing. Mrs. Croft never failed to be pleasant, concerned, witty, and wise. Even Lady Russell was forced to acknowledge the superiority of the Crofts to all the potential tenants who could have leased Kellynch.

    Anne meant to return the call quickly, feeling more pleasure than obligation in the activity. Lady Russell saw her to the carriage with a smile and a greeting to deliver to Mrs. Croft. It was an easy distance to Kellynch and Anne was surprised to feel no sentimentality for the place that had once been her home. Several of the servants greeted her warmly as she entered the property and with a light heart was shown into the front parlour. She stepped into the room, expecting it to be empty until Mrs. Croft joined her, but instead found herself face to face with Frederick.

    They stared at each other in stunned silence, Anne nearly retreating out of the room and the house in her mortification. Frederick has immediately understood her inclinations and hurried forward to detain her.

    "Anne! Anne…I never thought…I had heard you were with Lady Russell and I did not dare…" he stammered while taking her arm and gently leading her to a comfortable chair.

    Anne understood him well. He knew, and rightly so, that her mentor would not view his presence with any welcome. It pained her to know it, wishing there were a way to mend the rift between the two people she loved most in the world.

    "Perhaps, I should go…" she whispered.

    "No!" He protested. "Please stay. Sophy will be pleased to see you. She likes you very much."

    Anne smiled tremulously, "I like her equally."

    Frederick was gratified by her reply, though his nervousness seemed to reach new heights. He could not remain still for his fingers picked at the creases in the sofa fabric and he could not decide if he wished to remain seated or standing. She watched him silently, in awe that he was actually before her and unprepared for the questions and emotions that flooded her.

    Frederick suddenly turned and met her eyes with piercing clarity. He pulled a chair closer and leaned toward her intimately. "My Anne," he whispered. "I have wanted to see you and speak to you all these days that you have been gone. Are you well?"

    "I am." Anne replied. "How goes it…in…in Lyme?"

    Frederick looked away. "I cannot say for sure. Louisa improves daily, but I have not seen her. I am ashamed of myself, Anne. I have not had the courage to do what must be done. I have not been able to face Louisa for fear of her expectations."

    Anne's heart sank with his words and she was thankfully spared a reply by a bustling at the door. Sophy Croft walked in; crying an enthusiastic greeting that was matched by her husband. A third person entered more sedately, but with just as much welcome for Anne.

    "Captain Benwick!" Anne cried in surprise. "I did not know you had come as well."

    "When Frederick announced that he was coming, I could not help but invite myself. I have missed our talks."

    Anne intercepted the smiling look that passed between the Crofts. Frederick walked toward the fireplace to conceal a thunderous expression. Noticing Anne's embarrassed flush, Mrs. Croft rang for some refreshment. Frederick remained silently and stoic throughout the visit, narrowly watching as Benwick monopolized Anne's attention with tales of new books. He was also full of stories of Louisa's growing understanding of poetry. Anne listened politely, making the appropriate noises. Yet all she could wish for was another moment alone with Frederick, to calm the jealousy she could see boiling below the surface. In their well meant but misplaced designs, the Crofts encouraged the conversation between Anne and Benwick.

    Within an hour, Anne was possessed with the urgent need to leave. Her nerves were frayed with Frederick's black looks, Benwick's attentions, and the need to always disguise what was truly in her heart. She wanted nothing more than to disappear from the environment that grew more painful by the minute.

    There were many exclamations of regret when she announced her intentions, except from Frederick. He looks almost relieved to hear it. She curtsied clumsily in her haste. Frederick gave a formal, remote bow. And Captain Benwick escorted her to the carriage.

    "Miss Anne?" He called as she settled herself inside. "May I call on you tomorrow?"

    Anne could think of nothing that she wanted less. "Of course. I would be happy to introduce you to Lady Russell. She shares our taste for literature."

    He smiled and bade her an overly fond farewell. As her carriage pulled down the dirt drive, Anne saw Frederick watching from a window.

    Anne's thoughts whirled that night. A more practical woman would have done short work of the matter. If one man was eligible, kind, and of independent means, it was an eligible match and one that could be counted on for a reasonable amount of happiness. But love measured nothing by its practical applications - it wants only the object of its affections. There were no replacements.

    Anne was a woman who loved that way. She did not want Captain Benwick's attentions. What would have been if there had not been a Frederick was not worth consideration, for there was and always would be Frederick Wentworth to consider. It mattered not that his future seemed tied to another's. Anne could not countenance a loveless marriage, and if it were anyone but Frederick, she would not love.

    Lady Russell was suitably impressed with Captain Benwick. His taste in literature, his diffident manners, and his obvious attentions to Anne all generated her goodwill. Captain Benwick was all that was charming and Anne felt sorry for what she knew was coming. She welcomed Lady Russell's suggestion to tour the library and portrait gallery. Anne would have preferred the gardens, for there were always servants listening and lurking, but the weather was too cold for strolls by the rose bushes.

    Anne gathered her words, trying to find the right moment and the gentlest method to discourage her would-be suitor. Captain Benwick watched her shyly, mimicking her movements as she traced a path through the shelves of books.

    "Miss Anne? Have I offended you or been too forward in coming here?"

    Anne was surprised at the question. "No," She replied carefully. "How could I be offended by the visit of a friend?"

    He smiled sadly, "Though I admire the poets, I am not one myself. I must rely on more conventional means of expressing my sentiments. I made myself plain to your relations and to my friends. You cannot have mistaken my intentions."

    Anne turned away again, "Please do no say it. I have no wish to cause you pain."

    "But they must be said. Even just this once." He paced dramatically for a moment. Anne decided to hear him, for nothing else would fully settle the matter. "We are so alike you and I. Before I met you…before…I felt dead inside. You brought me to life."

    "You were grieving for a woman you loved deeply."

    "Is that why you hesitate? Do you think I am still pining for her?"

    "It would not be illogical to think so."

    "No. It would not." He sighed deeply. "I cannot and will not lie to you. There will always be a place in my heart belonging to Phoebe Harville. But that time, that life, is past. I am looking towards a new one. I hoped you would want to be a part of it."

    "When we met," Anne said softly, "I confided that I knew the depths of your despair simply because I have felt them myself. Do you remember?"

    "I do. It is a part of my belief that we would make a good pair. We already have that mutual understanding of each other."

    "Oh Captain," Anne replied. "Look deeper into your heart. You are looking to replace a lasting love with a superficial one. I am not what you want. If this is all we would expect of each other, it would not be many years before we became unhappy."

    "Many more marriages are built on less." He persisted.

    "You and I are alike in one respect. Having loved once, we cannot but want it again." She saw him avert his eyes. "Tell me that I am wrong."

    He tried. "I cannot. You know me better than I know myself."

    "I have had years to consider the matter. Give yourself time to do the same. People may pass away, but love does not. Memories and emotions will linger if not given free rein in grief. In time, you will truly be free to love a woman worthy of you."

    He looked at her directly. "And what of you? Will you grieve forever?"

    Anne smiled sadly. "There is something you do not know. The one I love lives. And while he lives, I am not free."

    He nodded solemnly and with a new understanding, they walked to the front door.

    "I hope, Captain Benwick, that we can use this to strengthen our friendship. For I will always consider you such."

    "As I will you." He agreed with little rancor, reinforcing Anne's belief that his heart had been little touched by her. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "You are kind and beautiful and special, Miss Anne. Do not let more time pass before you accept love back in your life. I would wish for you the best of marriages."

    Anne smiled sadly, thinking of what kind of marriage she could have with Frederick. "As do I." She watched him ride away, relief and sadness mingling in her for another opportunity presented that she could not accept.


    Chapter 8

    The time was coming for Anne to journey to Bath and join Sir Walter and Elizabeth. A house in Camden Place had been secured and decorated to her sister's liking. Lady Russell, who had kindly put off her early journey to Bath to wait for Anne, was now more than eager to take the waters and get away from the running of a large estate for a few months.

    Knowing her time was growing short, Anne penned a letter to Mrs. Croft, making her apologies for no longer being able to visit and wishing her well. Anne hoped they could continue a friendly correspondence while she resided in Bath. She hoped, in her heart, that Mrs. Croft would confide the contents of her letter to her brother.

    Mrs. Croft was a prompt correspondent and a pleasant one as well. She conveyed the Admiral and her wishes for a safe and speedy journey, adding only that they might chance to journey to Bath themselves in a month or two. There were a few complimentary lines of Captain Benwick, but nothing of Frederick, which agitated Anne immensely.

    As the week drew to a close, Anne wondered what could have happened to Frederick. That he stayed away was no surprise, for any interview between him and Lady Russell was to be avoided. However, Anne's hopes to meet him in the lanes during her walks, or in Uppercross where she dutifully visited her sister, sunk under the dawning understanding that Frederick Wentworth was doing his best to avoid her.

    Anne had recognized his jealousy during her visit to Kellynch. But how to assuage such an emotion? And was it unreasonable to think that Captain Benwick would have confided the failure of his suit to his friend? She knew he remained in the county, for she heard Charles speak of frequent meetings with him. But no more information could she glean with discretion.

    Anne looked out her bedroom window at the gray morning and sighed. She would wear her warmest pelisse to ward off the cold, but she would not forsake her walk. The carriage was being readied for tomorrow's journey to Bath. Anne had one last chance to meet with Frederick if he so desired. Her maid clucked and fussed as she dressed, commenting worriedly about the severity of the weather and how someone so delicate as Anne should stay warm. Anne gently brushed aside her concerns. This was no time to act like delicate lady.

    Despite Anne's bravado indoors, the wind did cut through the layers of cloth and chill her to the core. She tied the shawl tightly around her shoulders and held down her bonnet as the air stroked up her cheek and under the brim, pushing it up determinedly. The ground had hardened and the hint of frost was lingering. Still Anne pushed on, walking determinedly outside the edges of the estate. She was nearly ready to cry with frustration when the sound of hoofbeats alerted her.

    "Anne! Dear God, what are you doing out in this weather?"

    Anne looked up at the rider and nearly sobbed her relief at the sight of Frederick's face. He was looking at her with alarm as she swayed a little on her feet. He reached down suddenly and picked her up, seating her across him on the saddle, and nudging the horse forward to a sheltered nook. Anne leaned tiredly against his chest, listening for his heartbeat and feeling the imprint of buttons against her cheek. Frederick's arm was tight around her waist, gripping her securely as the horse cantered away from the main house. They found an old shepherd's cabin at the southern edge of the Russell estate. It was dusty and abandoned, but it provided a respite from the wind.

    Frederick led Anne to a rickety chair, then lit a small fire. He stripped of his gloves and took both her hands in his, blowing on them and rubbing warmth vigorously. "You are like ice. Why were you walking out today? You are more level headed than this."

    The reasons that had seemed so reasonable and so urgent an hour ago seemed improper to admit. Frederick looked at Anne expectantly and she knew he wanted an answer. Truth seemed best, there were already too many secrets between them. "I was looking for you."

    He turned scarlet at her soft response, unable for a moment to do more than bury his face in the hands he held. When he suddenly moved away, there was a decisiveness about him that made her uncomfortable and unsure of herself. He stood and turned to face the fire, regarding it calmly and coldly. "I have spent the last few days deep in thought. I know…I know you have declined Captain Benwick's suit. Why?"

    Anne wondered at his need to ask such a question. "Must you really ask such a thing?"

    "Do you find the question improper?"

    Anne's lips tightened momentarily. Frederick was being deliberately obtuse. "I find the answer obvious."

    His eyes flickered briefly, but he acknowledged the truth of her statement. "I suppose you mean that you gave him up for me? Have you?"

    "You know I have."

    "And Charles too? Did you refuse him because of me? Even when there was little chance we would meet again?"

    Anne did not know how to answer him. Did he still think so little of her? She could not blame him for over the years she had found severe fault with her own judgment. "Perhaps unknowingly."

    He smiled wanly, "That is a fair answer." He regarded the fire again. "Sophy tells me you are leaving for Bath tomorrow."

    "Yes. I have been expected for at least a week."

    He nodded. "I leave for Lyme tonight. I have decided…to offer for Louisa tonight."

    Anne could feel her knuckles try to rip past her skin as she gripped her armrests. He had promised to make things right, asked her not to forget him, and then…changed his mind? She could only take short breaths for there seemed a terrible weight on her chest. It pushed down, oppressing her lungs and winding tight around her heart. "If that is what you wish…"she whispered painfully, unwilling and unable to grasp what he meant.

    "It is NOT what I wish!" He cried. "How can you think that?"

    "I only know what you tell me."

    He turned almost violently towards her. The tears were beginning and through them she could see he was about to argue with her. But her obvious distress stopped him, left any harsh words unsaid as he knelt beside her and took her hands again. She tried to pull them away but he would not release her, Instead, he kissed them gently, even when she balled them into angry, rebellious fists.

    "You would have done better to accept Benwick. He is a good man and would have loved you and treated you well."

    The anger welled in her and she pulled herself out of his grip, wincing slightly as she twisted her wrists. He looked startled by her vehemence. She turned her face away, wishing for all the world her composure were not to transparent to this man.

    "Anne, you must understand…I want you to understand…"

    "I do. I always have." She said, still refusing to look at him.

    "No, I don't think you do, Anne." He said gently. "Charles has been quite…pointed…in his comments of late. He would consider it a terrible breach of friendship if I threw Louisa over."

    "I understand." Anne replied through gritted teeth, wanting nothing else than to leave his company. "It was you who believed differently. It was you who asked me to hope for something that was impossible."

    "Look at me. Anne, I am doing this for you. Look at me please."

    She could not. She would not comply. There was nothing he could say or do anymore that could hurt her more than this. She kept her face averted and shuddered when his hand caressed her cheek tenderly. "I am to blame, for all of it. If only…if only I had let go my resentment of the past when we met again."

    "Please don't say it. It does neither of us good."

    "Will you not look at me, Anne?"

    There was a strange finality to his voice and it made her turn. It was as if he believed they would never see each other again. She knew differently. There would soon have relatives in common and by necessity would have encounter after painful encounter as the years progressed. She searched his stricken face, memorizing it, knowing that this was the last moment that he would be hers.

    "Anne, whatever happens…I want you to be happy. Forget me, forget us and grasp life with both hands. More than anything in the world, I want to know that you will be happy."

    Anne no longer remembered what it was to feel happy.

    "Promise me." He continued. "Promise me that you will not wait any longer to truly live your life."

    "I promise." It was the barest thread of sound.

    He leaned forward and kissed her, softly and tenderly, neither one daring to take it further. It was a bittersweet farewell. He did not say he loved her. He did not have to. She would not say it. She bade him to leave her at the cottage. He protested weakly, but in the end left her. She sat silently, sightlessly watching the crackling wood as it burned.

    "I promise," she whispered to herself. And meant it.


    Chapter 9

    The Anne Elliot that made her way to Bath was in essentials different from the one that had lived and loved in Kellynch. She was older, hopefully wiser, and a trifle more quiet than warranted her quick and intelligent mind. She was also irrevocably broken hearted.

    The anger she felt toward Frederick faded long before she left the shepherd's cabin. There had been a momentary flare directed at fate and heaven. Anne was not the kind to cling to resentment. It ate at her soul, and as the years had passed, Anne knew she had to guard what little of her spirit remained. However, there had been a decision riding in the coat tails of her anger. Frederick was correct. It was time to start living again. Bath was a whole different world with different people. Anne pushed aside the memories of her mother's passing. Bath was where she was destined to reside. And she was determined to make the most of it.

    The brazen emotion was further enhanced by the surprisingly warm welcome that greeted her in Camden Place. Sir Walter was happy for a fourth at dinner, Elizabeth was eager to show the impressiveness of the drawing rooms and Mrs. Clay was willing to agree with whomever ventured an opinion. For the first time, Anne was gratified by the presence of her emotionless family for it spared her the need to feel anything too deeply.

    Within days of arriving in Bath, Anne received a letter from Mary. Louisa and Frederick had announced their engagement, following the application of her hand to Mr. Musgrove. Mary speculated on a wedding date, but admitted that none had been set, for Frederick had found urgent business with his brother in Shropshire and departed from Lyme.

    Lady Russell was disturbed by the change in her young friend. Anne had always been a soft, tender, loving presence. By the end of the first week in Bath, Lady Russell had seen a new cynicism in Anne. She was untouched by the silly barbs of her sister and father and uncaring of her situation. All this from the woman who not three months before had been distressed by the memories of her mother's passing. Lady Russell wanted to believe that Anne had simply adjusted to the thought of living in Bath, but knew her friend better. No, this new frostiness was alarming.

    Over the busy social gatherings, Anne became acquainted with William Walter Elliot, widowed and again paying his repects to Sir Walter. Mr. Elliot was a very polished man of about 30 and though not handsome in the most classic of figures, quite elegant and well spoken. He had a charm that drew all people to his conversation. Yet charm alone could not impress Anne. It was lucky for Mr. Elliot that he possessed intelligence and discernment as well.

    Anne was intrigued by Mr. Elliot for another reason. He was, indeed, the same man who had silently admired her on the Cobb that fateful morning. Anne did not mention their accidental meeting upon their introduction, for she had already met with derision and chastisement for telling tales when speaking of it to Elizabeth and Sir Walter. It was with satisfaction that she heard him tell of their seeing each other in Lyme. He was remarkably well informed about her party, saying prettily how much he had envied their merriment, and how sorry he was to hear of the subsequent accident. That he asked after her own distress surprised and warmed her, for no one else had considered her impressions on the event.

    "What accident?" Sir Walter asked in order to join the private conversation.

    "Louisa Musgrove, father," Anne reminded softly.

    "Oh yes, yes…the farmer's daughter."

    Anne did not approve of her father's condescension of Mary's relations but learned humor when she met the knowing gleam in Mr. Elliot's eyes.

    Mr. Elliot was a frequent visitor to Camden Place and when there, quickly attached himself to Anne. She was happy for the company, since he was invariably witty and entertaining. But she could see the danger in always being perceived as sought by him, especially when Elizabeth had very clear intentions of her own toward the young man.

    Elizabeth found Mr. Elliot suitable on two rather pointed matters. First, he was to inherit Kellynch and the baronetcy, of which she was already mistress. Second, he was accepted by the best of society and able to make himself agreeable to all. This ability to mingle in society was tested when Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret descended on Bath. They were the toast of the town, easily the most influential members of society. The Elliots urgently renewed their familial connections and were rewarded handsomely. Mr. Elliot not only approved the acquaintance, he furthered it himself. By the end of the first round of calls and teas, he was declared a most amiable companion by Lady Dalrymple herself.

    Anne, however, found something to distrust in Mr. Elliot's new sense of family pride and loyalty. She was not unaware of the past, though her father and sister chose to forget it. That Mr. Elliot had shunned family connections in favor of an unsanctioned marriage to a wealthy, if low born woman. It was not the marriage that distressed Anne, for she hope he had followed his heart and not his wallet. It was not even that he had disrespected Sir Walter, for she understood that her father's vanity would wear thin on any man of sense. Instead it was the seeming shift of temperament and opinion and the endless denials of ill intent that warned her that all was not what it would seem with her cousin.

    If these suspicions were enough to confuse Anne, so were the opposite feelings Mr. Elliot engendered. It was pleasant to be sought after by a gentleman. It was flattering to have every need anticipated and every want assuaged. As Anne was determined to forge her own happiness and Mr. Elliot determined to provide it, it was reasonable to admit that Anne was rapidly warming to him. She did not seek to encourage it, and found many reasons to keep her distance, not the least of which was the rumors that began to circulate.

    However, Mr. Elliot was determined to keep his cousin amused and in his company. He did not half mind the gossip that was starting about his attachment. He hinted at it himself and continually presented evidence of their compatibility.

    "Yes, yes, family connections are important," Anne conceded laughingly as they spoke one evening. She was seated on a low couch with Mr. Elliot. The fire crackled behind her, throwing warmth over her frame and unknowingly framing her amused expression enchantingly. "But even you must concede that there is no superiority of intellect or manners! No sir, much as my father seeks the association, I must admit to wanting more for good company."

    "Cousin, good company requires only birth, education and manners. And it is not so very strict with education. However mean the Dalrymples' understanding, even you must admit that they will move in the first circles and thus collect good company around them."

    "I only require the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation to consider that I am in good company."

    He laughed at her haughty description, "You are fastidious. Yet I cannot think of another with more right to fastidiousness. Will it make you happy?"

    The question startled Anne for it reminded her of a promise she had half-heartedly made not many weeks ago. "Happiness is a transient thing, Mr. Elliot."

    "Indeed it is. But it has been my experience that most people who claim an unhappy life are often at fault for placing themselves in situations wherein happiness is unattainable. For example, there may not be any inherent pleasure in Lady Dalrymple's company, but there might in the company she keeps. Deny one and you deny yourself the other."

    Anne looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "I think I understand you. You are saying that one must choose to be happy. That is all well and good, but it does not allow for fate and circumstances beyond one's control."

    "There will always be those moments. I choose to offset what I cannot control with what I can. It at least affords me with the best chance for happiness." He touched her hand lightly, fleetingly. "I always intend to be happy."

    Anne flushed with sudden awareness of the nuances of his statement. He smiled as she realized how removed they were from the others and turned the conversation toward less intimate topics.


    Chapter 10

    Anne's life was further entrenched in Bath by the discovery of an old school friend. Mrs. Smith, as she was now known, was at 30 already widowed and in ill health. Anne renewed the acquaintance with alacrity, saddened by the dire straits of her former friend. Though several years had passed between them, it took mere minutes for the friendship to warm to what it once was. Soon, Anne was spending as much of her time in Mrs. Smith's small apartments as she did any other place in Bath.

    Lady Russell was pleased with the acquaintance, for it signaled the return of Anne's softer tendencies. Lady Russell watched the animation ebb and flow through Anne's features as the younger woman spoke of Mrs. Smith and Mr. Elliot.

    "I find this most promising," Lady Russell commented as they strolled through the Pump Room. "The heir presumptive returned to the fold. Very good news indeed. Has he good manners?"

    "Very good manners," Anne responded warmly, "and witty conversation and correct opinions…"

    "Is the renewal of family connections his only motive?"

    "I believe Elizabeth has hopes. My sister is many hours at her dressing table when he is expected."

    Lady Russell was not fooled by Anne's modest comment. There was an active network of gossip running through Bath and the rumors that Mr. Elliot was courting a certain Miss Anne Elliot had already reached Lady Russell's ears. "Is she? I had heard differently." Lady Russell affectionately stroked Anne's flushed cheek, noticing how pretty she had grown of late. Mr. Elliot's influence was positive indeed. Anne was startled at the public show of affection and smiled charmingly back.

    Another society couple approached and engaged Lady Russell in conversation. Anne attempted to listen, but had no interest in Bath's Philosophical Society and found her eyes wandering around the room. She was startled by the appearance of the Crofts at the entrance. Sophy Croft spotted her across the room at the same moment and energetically waved. Without a thought, Anne happily launched herself across the room to greet her friends.

    "Miss Anne!" Cried the Admiral as she took both their hands in greeting.

    "It is so good to see you!" Anne replied.

    Mrs. Croft laughed at Anne's exuberance and noted her pleasantly altered features. "We have come to improve the Admiral's constitution."

    Anne immediately looked concerned. "Are you unwell, Admiral?"

    "Dry land, m'dear," teased the gentleman. "It doesn't agree with my sea legs."

    "Well, you must both take of the waters," Anne said determinedly, threading her arms with theirs and leading them to the fountains.

    "I have a letter for you from Mrs. Musgrove, your sister. It is quite thick! Full of news no doubt."

    Anne smiled, "Mary is a better correspondent when having a letter delivered, rather than mailed!"

    "She has no doubt told you of my brother's engagement to Miss Musgrove."

    "She has," Anne replied quietly, turning away to drink from a pewter cup.

    "Silly business." The Admiral commented as he leaned on the service counter. "Never seen anything like it in my life. Frederick hardly acts like a bridegroom."

    "Have you heard if a wedding date has been set?" Mrs. Croft asked.

    Anne tried to remain impassive throughout the discussion, walling the hurt in icy indifference. "I'm afraid I know nothing of the matter, ma'am."

    "We know very little of the matter ourselves, Miss Anne," confided Mrs. Croft. "Frederick informed us of the engagement and left for Shropshire forthwith. He has been there six weeks now, without so much as a single trip or letter to Lyme or Uppercross."

    The Admiral looked thoughtful, "It is unusual for a newly engaged man to hurry away from his intended."

    "Well, I have seen many a lovesick sailor in my day," said Mrs. Croft. "And even the most cool have burned with more passion than my brother displays."

    "Perhaps he is merely private." Anne ventured.

    The Admiral laughed, "More than likely, he trapped."

    Mrs. Croft scowled at her husband. "If that is true, I hope he remedies the situation immediately. Louisa Musgrove is a charming enough young lady and will soon find herself another beau. But I cannot approve a marriage with so little affection."

    Anne could not reply without revealing her turbulent sentiments. Something of her discomfort must have shown to Mrs. Croft for that lady apologized for speaking frankly of family connections and changed the subject.

    Even Mr. Elliot's charm could not draw Anne out of her pensive state that evening. She reached for her former composure, telling herself firmly that despite the obvious strain in the relationship, it was a marriage that would happen. Frederick was not a man to trifle with his emotions and it stood to reason that he must have some affection for Louisa if he was to marry her. And that affection was strong enough to forgo a life with Anne. She had best remember her resolve to forge a new life. That being reinforced, Anne strengthened her attentions and encouragement to Mr. Elliot.

    Many more weeks passed calmly. Anne visited the Crofts regularly and they treated her with the affection of a favorite friend. As always, Mr. Elliot was in evidence during the evenings, never allowing others to feel neglected and yet always managing to find intimate moments for conversation with Anne. Mrs. Smith was very sly with her comments on the match, never actually approving it and never admitting the source of her good information regarding the progress of the courtship. Lady Russell saw all and approved all, mostly because of the confidence, humor and spark the attention lent to Anne. Even Sir Walter was forced to compliment Anne on her glowing looks.

    Anne found her both her days and evenings filled with calls and parties. She did not much like the evenings of card games, even when she was entertained by Mr. Elliot. However, such activities forbade solitude and the need to dwell on the past. Anne welcomed the numbness of mindless pursuits with open arms.

    One morning, however, habit forced her out of doors alone. She went to call on Mrs. Smith and was not due to meet Elizabeth until that afternoon. The visit went well and was full of gossip and tea, for Mrs. Smith's nurse was well connected and loved to talk. Anne left Westgate buildings rather overflowing with information and a secret dismay that the entire town though her already engaged to Mr. Elliot. Even Mrs. Smith was not convinced by her denials, only saying that there was time enough to settle matters to everyone's content.

    Anne walked leisurely, knowing her sister and Mrs. Clay would be late in meeting her. She walked up toward Queen's Square and at the bottom of Milsom Street, recognized a friend. Admiral Croft was engrossed in his examination of a picture at the framemaker's window. Anne called his name several times and was obliged to touch his arm lightly to draw his attention.

    "Now this is treating me as a friend!" Said the Admiral as he acknowledged her. "Look at this picture. I'd wager the artist has never been on a boat in his life! It is too short, for one, to withstand the tide at full swell. And look at those sails! Disgraceful!"

    Anne could only chuckle at the Admiral's disgruntlement. "I'm afraid I would have seen nothing wrong with it."

    "Nor would hundreds of others, m'dear. That is why this lad is still in business." The Admiral turned toward her. "Are you venturing home? Would you take my arm?"

    "I thank you, sir. I am venturing only to the end of Milsom Street where I am to meet my sister. But if I may still take your arm, perhaps we could walk together for a moment?"

    The Admiral obliged with alacrity and they proceeded even more slowly than Anne had started, in deference to the Admiral's age. He nodded to several acquaintances as they walked, but stopped to chat with none of them.

    "That's Captain Davenport with his wife across the street," The Admiral whispered as he acknowledged them. "Look at how they stare at me. Quite wondering where my wife is while I walk down the street arm in arm with a pretty young lady!"

    Anne laughed, "Are you trying to start rumors then?"

    "I rather think they start without much effort at all in Bath." He said. "I even hear some of you!" He watch the color rush into her cheeks with amusement. "Aye, that is much, much better. You were entirely too serene for my taste."

    "I did not know you listened to rumors, Admiral."

    "A good officer gets information where he can. A superior officer learns to distinguish truth from fiction."

    Anne could only laugh.

    "Do you remember what we spoke of in the Pump Room, all those weeks ago?" The Admiral asked. "I have had the strangest news regarding my brother-in-law's engagement. It seems that the young lady has broken it and taken up with someone else!"

    Anne felt her jaw go slack in astonishment. "Are you sure?"

    "Aye. I have heard it from Frederick himself. He wrote to inform us of the canceled engagement to…what is her name?"

    "Louisa Musgrove."

    "Yes, her. Apparently all that time apart has changed her mind. She is now quite engaged to a Captain Benwick. I always though Captain Benwick was enamored with you!"

    Anne flushed in embarrassment. "We were only ever friends. But I must admit I am astonished. Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove. I cannot conceive it! Their minds are so dissimilar."

    "Well, she did have that injury to her brain. Perhaps it knocked an appreciation for poetry into her."

    "Of course! Poetry! They fell in love over poetry! He did read to her quite often." Anne laughed in delighted astonishment, but sobered in moments. They walked on. "Is Fr..Captain Wentworth…very bitter?"

    "Not at all! His letter is sanguine with barely an oath or murmur about the matter. One would almost think him elated." The Admiral placed a hand over the one Anne had on his arm. "You will think me blunt, my dear, but with you I cannot dissemble. Sophy and I are overjoyed. We did not think the engagement was correct given the sentiments of either party." He sighed. "Perhaps we must bring Frederick to Bath. Here are pretty girls enough and it would seem that Frederick will have to try again with somebody else."

    Anne did not feel the Admiral's conviction that Frederick was unharmed by the event. She had long ago decided that Frederick's inclinations toward her were nothing more than remnants of the past, surfacing because of a stressful and cloistered situation. She hoped he would not come to Bath, for there was nothing here for him.

    The Admiral left her in the custody of her sister and they spent much of the afternoon browsing through fabric and curio shops. Elizabeth and Mrs. Clay were avid and demanding customers, every purchase being discussed in minute detail. Mr. Elliot was sometimes in attendance, though only between his day's appointments. Bath, being what it was, was not long without rain and the ladies sought shelter in Mrs. Molland's confectionery shop.

    Anne was happy to sit quietly in her corner. Mrs. Clay and Elizabeth chattered on about their purchases, and the rain came steadily down. After an hour, Elizabeth began to grow agitated. Mr. Elliot, who had again made an appearance, was asked to find a dry means of conveying them home. He returned with the happy news that Lady Dalrymple had room in her carriage for them, but alas, only for two of them. Elizabeth insisted that Mrs. Clay accompany her, for she had a cold and Anne had thick boots to walk on.

    Anne was quite happy not to be enclosed with Lady Dalrymple and did not demur. Mr. Elliot, with an amused and secret smile to Anne, quickly offered to escort her. And so the matter was resolved.

    As Mr. Elliot went to confirm the arrangement, Anne stared out at the wet street. And stiffened in shock. There, right before her, was a familiar figure in full naval uniform. The confidence of the stride, the purposefulness of the demeanor could not be mistaken. It was Frederick Wentworth.

    Mrs. Clay noticed Anne's stillness and inquired after her. Anne could only excuse herself and hurry away toward the counter, in search of a glass of water to cool her. The bell on the door rang, the crowd inside milled about, and Frederick walked in the door. She turned to hurry to her secluded seat on the other side of the room, but was trapped by the multitude of people seeking shelter from the rain. She glanced over her shoulder, praying that he had not discovered her. Instead, she found astonishment and joy mixed in his expression as he looked on her.

    "Anne!"


    Chapter 11

    Frederick's use of her Christian name made several heads turn in their direction. Anne instinctively turned to look at her sister. There was recognition in Elizabeth's glance as well as disdain. Elizabeth turned her head away without acknowledging Frederick. Anne blushed at her sister's bad manners until she realized Frederick had not even noticed. He was still staring at her and coming closer.

    He was coming a little too close.

    She took a hasty step backwards and dropped a curtsey. "Captain Wentworth," she said in a stiff, formal voice.

    He seemed to recollect their crowded environment and gave a very proper bow, "Miss Elliot."

    "You have come to Bath?"

    "I have," he smiled.

    "And how do you like it?"

    "At this moment, I like it very much," he said softly. Anne felt the blood drain from her face at his response, terrified that her hard won composure was about to crumble. Frederick was surprised to see her pale and misunderstood it as embarrassment that they were not alone. "Actually, I have only just arrived and seen none of the sights."

    Anne nodded and searched for something to say. Frederick was looking at her expectantly, confident of his return to her good graces. There was another bustle at the door and a coachman entered calling out, "Lady Dalrymple's carriage for the Miss Elliots!"

    "That's us!" Elizabeth said loudly, relishing the buzz of the crowd as they acknowledged the importance of the event.

    Anne watched her sister and Mrs. Clay exit in silence, wishing she had insisted on traveling in the carriage. Frederick watched it all with anxiety, not wishing this unexpected meeting to end so soon. He extended his arm to her, offering his assistance, and was further astonished when she took another step away.

    "I thank you, but I am not accompanying them." Anne said softly. "I shall walk."

    "But it is raining!"

    "Very little - nothing that I regard. I prefer to walk."

    "It is raining quite steadily. You must allow me to get you a chair."

    "Thank you, no. I am only…"

    "As you can see," Frederick interrupted smilingly, "I am already armed for Bath." Anne smiled wanly as he held up a sturdy umbrella. "Perhaps we could both avail of its protection if you will allow me to escort you home."

    Anne sought a gentle refusal from her vocabulary for she saw eagerness in his gaze. She was not aware of anything else until a shadow fell over her.

    "Anne dearest," said Mr. Elliot, "I am sorry to keep you waiting. The rain has eased. Come. Let us make our way."

    Anne slipped her hand in her cousin's arm and had only time to quickly glance at Frederick. There was astonishment, recognition, and distress in his expression as his gaze moved from Mr. Elliot to Anne. Anne could only murmur, "Good day, Captain" before Mr. Elliot bundled her out of the shop.

    Mr. Elliot was his usual loquacious self as they walked to Camden Place. "Who was that officer you were speaking to?"

    "An old friend," Anne replied vaguely. At his raised eyebrow, she continued, "His brother used to be pastor in the church close to Kellynch. Captain Wentworth is also a friend of my brother-in-law, Charles Musgrove."

    "Ah," Mr. Elliot said. "With your family's status in Bath, it is no surprise he wished to renew his acquaintance with you. Be careful of those types, low born people with aspirations to better their lots in life."

    Anne did not reply but caustically noted this was a better description of Mrs. Clay than of Frederick. It occurred to her that some parts of it were applicable to Mr. Elliot himself.

    The unexpectedness of Frederick's arrival had thrown Anne's sentiments into a spin. She knew some happiness that he had come back to her after the debacle with Louisa. Overriding that happiness, however, was a mortification that she was to be preferred only second to Louisa. All the familiar pains began to well up with greater force at having been repressed for so long. Anne could not countenance another liaison with Frederick, for she had little faith that he would stay. Rather, she was more and more convinced that his renewed infatuation with her in Lyme was nothing more than based on circumstance. If she were fool enough to allow him close again, she could only think that it would not be long before he would find something or someone else more worthy of his affections. Anne knew without a shred of doubt that a third parting from Frederick would kill her.

    Anne sought to suppress any emotion that might have counteracted her resolve. It did no good to look back. It seemed that Mr. Elliot was her future. Though try as she might, she did not love him. They were engaged the next evening for a concert. The soprano was sponsored by Lady Dalrymple and it was anticipated that all the titled families of Bath would be in attendance. Anne knew that Frederick loved music and feared her resolve would be again tested by his presence at the concert.

    They were the earliest of their party to arrive, earlier even than Mr. Elliot. In the warmth of the octagon room, Anne listened to her family's low comments on the worth of each occupant as he or she entered the room. Thoroughly disgusted with Sir Walter's vanity and Elizabeth's officiousness, she moved away to stand staring at a fire.

    "Miss Elliot."

    Anne nearly jumped when Frederick murmured her name. He was standing next to her, resplendent in full naval uniform, the high collar teasing the hard line of his jaw. He was smiling at her, his eyes intensely searching her countenance. Anne knew his expressions and saw wariness uncertainty there. Good, she did not want him to be so sure of her.

    "Captain Wentworth." She replied coolly. "You have come for a concert?"

    "No, I have come for a seminar on navigation. Am I in the wrong place?" He teased. They both attempted to laugh, but it came out thin and strained. Frederick looked past her for a moment and made a distant bow. Anne's back was turned to her family but she surmised that her father had judged so well as to offer that simple acknowledgement.

    "I've hardly heard anything of you since…since we parted. Are you well? You seem well. You look beautiful tonight."

    Anne blushed delicately. "I am well."

    "I am sure you have heard by now the news from Uppercross."

    "I have."

    "It was quite a surprise. I don't understand the attachment."

    "I will admit to some surprise," Anne said carefully. "But I wish them both every happiness."

    "As do I. Louisa is a sweet, amiable woman…and not unintelligent. But Benwick is something more. He is a clever man, a reading. And he was devoted to Fanny Harville. Such a devotion, cannot…does not…evaporate in mere months." He was looking at her expressively. "That, at least, I know is true."

    Anne swallowed painfully. This was not going well. Anne wanted to keep to impersonal topics though Frederick was determined to make himself known. "Lyme was a very pretty place. Did you stay long at Lyme?"

    "No," He said impressively. "I hurried away as quickly as I could. I stayed in Shropshire with my brother for two months."

    "That is a pity for Lyme is very beautiful. I would sincerely like to see it again."

    Frederick frowned his confusion at her inane conversation. "Anne," He whispered, leaning in intimately. "I realize this is neither the time nor place for such a conversation. Will you see me? Will you meet with me somewhere more private where we might discuss our future?"

    Anne wanted to weep. She wished she could ignore the crowds and cry out that he was paining her yet again. She wished he had never come to Bath. But there were advantages to being in a crowd for they began to talk, saying "Lady Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple" repeatedly as she made her entrance.

    Frederick had no interest in Bath society. His attention was intently focused on Anne and her hesitation frightened him more than any battle he had ever fought.

    Anne saw Mr. Elliot enter with Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret and sought escape. "If you will excuse me, Captain. My party has arrived." She heard him whisper her name once as she hurried away.

    Mr. Elliot was quite happy to sit next to her during the concert. He repeatedly whispered compliments and asked her to translate the Italian lyrics for him. Anne did so distractedly, using all her effort to translate the lines without a shaking voice. Frederick had positioned himself by a near wall, a place she knew had full vantage of her seat and where, if she chose to turn her head, would offer a clear view of him. Anne tightly controlled her movements, conscious that she was under surveillance, and seeking to fein indifference. Her neck was sore from the effort not to turn in his direction and she heard nothing of the music.

    The intermission came and Anne sighed. Mr. Elliot asked her to translate the next piece, which was a love song. Anne did so with reluctance, uncomfortable with his public displays of attachment. His litany of compliments did not cease and were just loud enough to be heard by those around them. He gave every indication of being oblivious to anyone but her, and still Anne sensed it was a façade.

    "This is too much flattery, Mr. Elliot!"

    "I do not think I could ever flatter you enough. I would dearly wish to flatter you all the days of your life."

    She sighed again and caught Lady Dalrymple's voice.

    "Quite handsome! A very well looking man, indeed. More air than one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say."

    "A Captain Wentworth of the navy," was her father's bored reply, "a bowing acquaintance. His sister and her husband are tenants of mine."

    They continued on in this vein for some moments before another figure attracted their attention. Anne was mortified at the dismissiveness of their comments. She followed their line of sight until she came upon Frederick's figure leaning against the wall. He met her eyes directly, alarm and pain flickering in his eyes as he stared at her. Anne immediately dropped her gaze to her lap.

    Mr. Elliot was still waiting for a reply. "Do you understand me, Anne? Could you have misread my intentions?"

    Anne could not help glancing again at Frederick and saw that he could hear her conversation. It was his turn to pale at the significance of the conversation. She saw his eyes turn away and his lips tighten. Anne was spared a reply by Elizabeth's imperious summoning of Mr. Elliot. There was a slight shuffle in the seats and Anne found herself pushed toward the end of the bench, closer to Frederick than she cared to be. And beside her was an empty seat for one.

    From the corner of her eye, she saw him swallow with difficulty and push away from the wall. In moments, he was standing beside her.

    "How do you like the music, Miss Elliot?" He asked with a considering glance at the empty seat.

    Anne could not have told him what they were listening to. "I like it very well, thank you." An awkward silence descended. It still did not discourage him from standing next to her. "Are you enjoying the concert?" She asked.

    He smiled, encouraged. "It has moments of…unease for me. But the performer is quite adept."

    Anne understood what he was trying to say. She deliberately ignored it. "There is always something to enjoy of a performance, I believe. If not the singing, then the pianoforte or the harp."

    "I'm afraid I judge by the totality of experiences. I mix the good with the bad and whichever has greater moments, decides the impression."

    "I hope for your sake that does not mean you have more negative experiences than positive."

    "Not at all. Often the final moments define the event for me. Whatever I come away feeling is what lingers as a memory."

    Anne could not help warming to him a little. She smiled at him for the first time and saw the hope flare in his eyes. They both looked down at the empty seat, considering that it might soon be happily filled.

    There was a tap on her shoulder that made her break gazes with Frederick. Mr. Elliot, with a dismissive, appraising glance at Frederick, requested her assistance in translating the next song for Miss Carteret. She was obliged to apologize to Frederick and turn away. She dutifully translated the next song, its repetitive verses causing mirth in her companions. She was about to return to her place, where Frederick was still waiting patiently when Lady Russell caught her arm.

    "Anne," she whispered with strict urgency. "Think of the consequences of your actions before you act. There are some things you cannot take back." Anne watched Lady Russell give a brief, but significant glance at Frederick. Frederick, ever observant of Anne's movements, took a narrow eyed note of the exchange.

    Anne somberly returned to her seat. Immediately, Frederick approached and bade farewell. Anne was surprised that he chose not to stay for the remainder of the concert and mentioned it.

    "I have decided, madam, that there is little to enjoy here. I wish you a good night."

    She watched him hurry away, angry, jealousy and betrayal in every line of his body. The concert resumed. Anne again heard none of it, so consumed was she in the realizations of the last few hours. Lady Russell could not have been clearer if she had spoken bluntly. Anne's marriage to Mr. Elliot was no longer rumor. It was an expectation. Never was that more a fact than now, when Anne realized that she could have no feelings, real or imagined, for her cousin. It was now also true that her resolve had not withered her love for Frederick one bit. The anger she had not acknowledged had forced him away - perhaps permanently. Anne reflected that it was sometimes better not to have options, for choosing one only confused her.

    And Anne was thoroughly confused. She did not know what she wanted or what she should do.


    Chapter 12

    Posted on May 25, 1998

    The day after the concert brought new visitors to Camden Place. Charles and Mary Musgrove unexpectedly arrived at the door, throwing Elizabeth into a tizzy. Though elegant and classic in design, Camden Place was much smaller than it appeared and could take no guests. Other than showing them the double parlor room, Elizabeth could not offer her sister and brother accommodations.

    Charles was not worried on this matter. While Mary secretly deplored Elizabeth's lack of an invitation, Charles was happy to escape any prolonged visit with his father-in-law. Charles was adept at putting a good face when family obligations required, but he refused to perform above what was required. He considered it insincere. His only regret was the lack of Anne's company, for he truly enjoyed her company and recognized her good influence on Mary.

    Anne was surprised that Mrs. Musgrove, Henrietta and Captain Harville were in Bath as well, and residing in the White Hart Inn across from the Pump Room. The professed reason for the journey was the purchase of wedding clothes for the sisters.

    "Henrietta as well?" Anne inquired. "I did not realize her wedding was to be so soon."

    "Oh yes," replied Charles. "Cousin Hayter has secured a position with a nearby parish that will bring a good income for a few years. Eventually he will inherit Winthrop. My parents thought it a good thing for them to manage it together."

    "It is exciting! A double wedding!" Mary chimed in. "Though I cannot imagine what possessed Louisa to break with Captain Wentworth, for he is worth twice Captain Benwick!"

    Anne controlled the shiver that passed through her frame and saw an intense, but brief flare of guilt that passed Charles' expression. Elizabeth, who was bored with Musgrove concerns, led Mary in the further tour of the house. Sir Walter and Mrs. Clay followed. Anne settled herself on a couch, knowing the tour would end with tea in this room. Charles sat next to her with a deeply felt sigh.

    "Oh Anne!" He said. "It is lucky for all of us that Louisa's situation has righted itself."

    Anne was intrigued by this beginning. She turned expectantly toward her brother-in-law, knowing from experience that Charles did not introduce topics without intending to discuss them. Charles did not disappoint.

    "I acted very badly on the whole engagement with Wentworth. I can say this to you Anne, for you are the understanding sort."

    Anne wondered what he would think of her understanding nature if he were acquainted with her interests in the matter. However, Charles was continuing.

    "I could not understand what was the delay. Louisa and Wentworth spent every available moment together in Uppercross. Well you were there, you know what they were like. Not one of us had a doubt where it would lead, did we?"

    "No, we did not."

    "When Louisa had her accident…well… of course all things had to stop. She had to be cared for, healed. And speaking of that, we will never be able to thank you enough for bringing Louisa to health." He continued when Anne waived away his thanks with a smile. "In any case, it was proper for him to stay away at that point when it was uncertain whether she would be fully recovered or not."

    He sighed again and hesitated. It seemed for a moment that the family was returning to room. Anne desperately wished them away for longer. Fate was on her side it seemed, for they veered to peer at another room's furnishing. Charles smiled wanly at her as their mutual relief became evident.

    "Mary does not know how deeply I trifled in the matter and I am too ashamed of myself to tell her or my parents. Where was I? Oh yes. After you left, Louisa was well on the way to recovery. True she was less the lively sister I remembered - too quick to jump when a door banged and calling for quiet. You must understand, I remember her as the chief noisemaker of the family. I did not adjust well to the sight of her sitting silent with Captain Benwick whispering verses to her all day long. It was odd to say the least. And while I had approved Wentworth's good sense in staying away when Louisa was ill, I began to resent that he continued to do so when she was recovered. I saw a slight where there was none. I saw myself as a vigilant brother. I was convinced that Louisa was pining for him despite his ungentlemanly behavior and frequent disappearances.

    Captain Wentworth is to be commended for his fortitude with me. I pushed beyond the boundaries of friendship and chastised him for his behavior. I questioned his honor, Anne. And for a man such as Wentworth, honor is a matter of pride and respect."

    "How did he respond?"

    "He said absolutely nothing, just stood there like a rock staring at me. I asked him if he had reconsidered because he though Louisa's accident had too much damage. We both knew that Louisa was fine if more cautious. He denied any such thing. I made it perfectly clear that I was prepared to force the marriage if I had to. He sighed and said that would not be necessary."

    Anne listened silently, letting his words tumble out, piecing together what had happened and realizing for the first time how little choice Frederick had had in the matter.

    "What of Louisa? She did accept him. You were not wrong there."

    Charles managed to look even more somber. "I was even more mistaken with my sister. I never considered that she might be forming a newer, truer attachment."

    "With Captain Benwick?"

    "The very one." He agreed. "I never even saw him as a possibility. He was too quiet, too much her opposite. Having secured Wentworth's agreement, I worked on my sister. I was surprised when she resisted the idea. She said she did not want to marry him, that she knew he did not want to marry her either. Louisa was convinced that he was in love with someone else, though she never did name who, and his change of heart was the reason he stayed away.

    I was furious. I took great satisfaction in telling her that I had spoken to him, and that his affections belonged to her and he was determined to offer for her. I also told her what was expected by the family. She felt quite responsible for him by the time I was done speaking. He came the next day and proposed. She accepted. Father approved. They were engaged. It was all stiff and formal and that was the first time I thought perhaps a mistake had been made. Wentworth went to see his brother within days. Louisa was as close to inconsolable as I ever saw. Mary was convinced that it was because Wentworth was gone. I knew it was because she felt trapped.

    Weeks passed and everyone, including the Harvilles, wondered where Wentworth had gone. Louisa would not speak to me. She spent a considerable amount of time with Benwick. Then one day, my father pulls me aside. Louisa had told him and mother that she had reconsidered. She was in love with Captain Benwick and had his assurances of his affections as well. Well, they felt rather sorry for Captain Wentworth. But you know my parents, they would not stand in the way of happiness for any of their children."

    A small silence grew between them as the end of the story unfolded. Charles sighed again and Anne patted his arm comfortingly. He smiled and said, "I think Wentworth knew where Louisa's affections truly lay. I cannot believe as Louisa does that he loves another. A man like Wentworth would run to his beloved and secure her the moment he was free. Instead he has rejoined his sister and the Admiral here in Bath."

    Anne almost laughed at the irony of Charles' surmise, wondering what it was about her that made her situation as a prospective mate unimaginable. She did not, however, and knew that it would have been a bitter sound. Charles thanked her for lending an ear to his troubles, still unaware of the import of his words to her. The family returned and tea was ordered. Anne spent the rest of the visit in reflective silence.

    She called on her friend, Mrs. Smith, later that day. Mrs. Smith was quite interested in the concert and asking who had attended. Anne was vague about the detail, for in truth all she recalled was Frederick's presence and the way he had stormed out. Her heart was no longer set against him, but it was still fearful of being harmed again.

    Mrs. Smith found much to tease in her friend's distraction. "You must forgive the teasings of a friend, Miss Elliot. For I cannot think I have much more opportunity ahead to do so."

    Anne, alarmed for her friend's health, cried, "Are you feeling unwell again? I had hope your improved had continued!"

    Mrs. Smith laughed with vigor at her friend's humility. "I am feeling well and I thank you for thinking of me first. I was alluding, not very successfully, to your being otherwise prevented from visiting me for much longer."

    "Prevented?" Anne asked in true confusion. "No one would have motive to do that! Truly I cannot even imagine how."

    "Perhaps your husband may not wish his wife to visit Westgate Buildings."

    Anne flushed as she realized what Mrs. Smith was trying to impart. "I see the rumors have reached you."

    "Oh yes. My nurse is quite agile in hearing what is spoken in sotto voice. It does help that she is currently assisting Mrs. Wallis during her confinement." Mrs. Smith smiled. "Yes it is the same Wallis, wife of the Colonel who is a friend of a Mr. Elliot. Nurse tells me that Mr. Elliot speaks of you often and well."

    Anne sighed heavily. "I don't know why the whole town suffers this dreadful misconception that I shall marry Mr. Elliot!"

    "Well shan't you?"

    "NO!"

    "Has he asked you?"

    "He has not."

    "Then it is still a possibility. I will not believe your protestations. I know your modesty well."

    "Indeed you will believe me for I am in earnest. It matters not what has or has not offered. I am uninterested."

    Anne was surprised at the extreme relief on her friend's face. She inquired after it and to her mortification, out tumbled an account of Mr. Elliot that painted him in the blackest of terms.

    Anne had long been uncomfortable with the ease in which Mr. Elliot had ingratiated himself into her family. However as Mrs. Smith told of her husband's intimate friendship and the subsequent shameful activities, Anne could not help but wonder at her own blindness. Her hurt sensibilities had made her abandon her sense and discernment for the foolish game of flirtation.

    Letters and articles were produced aplenty to prove the point. Anne blushed as a letter in Mr. Elliot's hand spoke disparagingly of her father and Elizabeth and the entire inheritance. The letter belied all Mr. Elliot's recent claim of respect for family and connections.

    Anne was still reeling from the day's revelations as she left the abode. She was very sorry for Mrs. Smith, who was still suffering from Mr. Elliot's depravations. She even managed to pity his late wife, for now there were reports of his cruelty to that lady. Anne shuddered at the fate she had narrowly avoided. Anne felt every need to inform Lady Russell of her discoveries and discuss the ways such information could be passed on to her family who still saw him as a favored companion.


    Chapter 13

    The visit with Lady Russell was inevitably postponed as Anne was engaged to visit with Mrs. Musgrove and Henrietta the next morning. There was a great deal of mutual affection between Anne and the Musgrove and she was happy to be thus engaged. Anne found the ladies in the sitting room, engaged with a lace maker, and perusing several bolts of that handmade material.

    "Anne! It is so good to see you!" Henrietta exclaimed, hugging Anne tightly.

    Anne greeted her sister and Mrs. Musgrove with equal affection. She was quickly ensconced in a chair, her opinions on lacy and styles avidly sought. They were all happily engaged in the activity for a half hour, long enough for Anne to ascertain that the men were engaged elsewhere. She was only just feeling at ease when the door was flung open to reveal Charles and Captain Harville.

    "Mama!" Charles cried. "Look whom I have found!"

    Frederick followed him with a smile. The smile cracked and faded when he saw Anne. They greeted each other civilly, like strangers, and she quickly extended her greeting toward Captain Harville as well. Charles was beaming and it was clear that all had been mended between him and Frederick. There was some embarrassment from Mrs. Musgrove, but Frederick eased it immediately with the warmth of his greeting.

    Anne chastised herself for not recalling that mutual acquaintances would inevitably bring them together. A single night had not been enough to know where her life's path lay. Frederick was barely hiding his own agitation, his eyes clashing with hers and dropping miserably away.

    "Mama, you will be proud of your boy. I have secured a box for us in the theatre for Monday." There were cries of delight from the Musgrove ladies. "There is plenty of room and I have engaged Captain Wentworth to join us. Anne, I have assumed your presence as well."

    Anne saw Frederick turn inquiring eyes toward her. She met them shyly and saw him smile at her, encouraging her to accept the invitation. Anne's eyes dropped away in misery. She could not accept. "If it relied on my inclination alone, Charles, I would be delighted. But that is the evening of Elizabeth's evening party, to which I understand you shall all be invited."

    Anne was dismayed by the contempt that twisted Frederick's lips. She could not blame him.

    "Phoo! What's an evening party?" Cried Charles. "I have no love for cards. Much to sedentary an occupation for me."

    "I agree with you," Anne said softly, shivering for she knew Frederick was listening to every word. Despite her confused thoughts since his arrival, it was becoming important to show she was not so changed. "But I have an obligation to my family. I would not hesitate otherwise."

    "Charles Musgrove," reproved his wife. "You promised to go. How will it look if you do not keep your word?"

    "I never promised anything. I hemmed and hawed and said the word 'happy' once. That is hardly a promise. All this fuss over a game of cards!"

    "Charles! It is more than that!" Mary exclaimed. "We are to meet Mr. Elliot! Surely that is enough incentive for you!"

    "And what, pray tell, is Mr. Elliot to me?" Charles asked smugly. "If I will not go for your father's sake, I would think it a scandal to go for his heir's!" Frederick's attention was riveted, seeing the smiles exchanged by the ladies cause Anne to furiously blush. And yet, Charles was neither blind nor stupid. If he did not acknowledge the significance of one Mr. William Walter Elliot…

    The couple volubly debated on. Anne could feel the discomfort in her companions match her own. Finally, Mrs. Musgrove stepped in with a gentle but firm suggestion. "Better to change the day, Charles. I would not enjoy a play if I knew our party were divided. Mary and Anne must be with us. Anne, you will be free to join us on Tuesday, would you not?"

    "I certainly would." Anne replied. "I thank you, you are very kind."

    Mrs. Musgrove patted her hand with motherly affection. "And you, Captain Wentworth? Will the change of day prevent your attendance? We would certainly accommodate you if Tuesday would not suit."

    "Tuesday is the day, ma'am." Frederick replied. "Any day is open." He deliberately caught Anne's eye. "I would move every other appointment if I had them to attend the theatre with you."

    "There, Charles!" Mrs. Musgrove said. "It is settled and we are all engaged. Oh Captain Harville! I did not mean to discount you…I quite feel you spoken for as part of our party."

    "As I am!" he replied. "I am quite at your disposal."

    "I am about to test your honesty, Captain Harville!" teased Henrietta. "I insist come and sit with me as I make my deliberations." She gestured toward the lace. "I am desperately in need of a fresh opinion."

    Anne imagined there was nothing Captain Harville would like less, but he gamely drew a chair and threw an amused glance at Frederick before seriously considering the patches of material before him. Charles continued to tease Mary about the party, though in an undertone. Anne moved away from the table, surreptitiously stretching muscles made tense by the last few minutes. She sighed and began to browse through samples on another table. Her emotions were a jumble, one moment desperate to encourage Frederick, the next terrified of putting herself at risk once again. If only she could believe he was sincere.

    Her attention diverted, the sample she was holding slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She gasped in surprise and bent to retrieve it. A larger masculine hand preceded hers, picking up the scrap of cloth and seizing the opportunity to caress her hand as Frederick returned the piece.

    She looked up at him. He was standing close to her, but not intimately close. He was wary of his reception but could not stay away, longing to eke out as many private moments as he could. Anne smiled nervously and it was enough to encourage him.

    "Thank you."

    "You're welcome." Neither could think of more to say and they stood together awkwardly. The continued conversation between Charles and Mary made Anne briefly turn her head in their direction. Frederick did not want her attention diverted from him and persevered. "Perhaps you have not been in Bath long enough to have learned to enjoy these parties they give," he stuttered non-sensically.

    Anne frowned at him. "They mean nothing to me. I am no card player."

    He grinned widely at her, insanely happy at her first genuine response to him. "You were not formally, I know. But time makes many changes."

    "There isn't time enough that can pass to have wrought such a change. I am the same person I always was."

    "I want to believe that. I want it so desperately," he whispered. She looked startled. "Anne…"

    Whatever he was to have said was interrupted by Mary at the window. "Anne, come and look! That is Mr. Elliot down on the street."

    Anne spoke without thinking, "It cannot be Mr. Elliot. He has gone out of Bath to stay with some friends in Coombe Park." She heard Frederick's swift intake of breath and realized what she had left unsaid, that Mr. Elliot's absence was a cause for joy on her part. She turned to regard him worriedly and saw with a sinking heart that a coolness had entered his eyes.

    Mary was miffed. "Are you suggesting that I do not know my own cousin. Come and look for yourself. It is he. There is someone with him - a woman. I believe it is Mrs. Clay."

    Now this was information that surprised Anne. She went to the window, partly to cover her own embarrassment and partly to discover what two people with diametrically opposite ambitions would have to secretly meet about. She was a trifle too late to see much more than Mr. Elliot and Mrs. Clay parting with some apparent intimacy.

    "There!" Mary said triumphantly. "Is that not Mr. Elliot."

    "It is indeed!" Anne said. "Apparently I was wrong. It is not a wonder for I do not pay much mind to his conversation." The last was said with another swift glance at Frederick. He looked unsure, as if he was struggling to believe her. Anne forced herself to be patient as she moved away from Mary's side. She was rewarded when Frederick again took a station by her side.

    It was a reality that a large party would inevitably invite more chaos and activity than any single person. It was certainly true of any Musgrove adventure, for the family tended to create much of the clutter and noise all by themselves. Whatever Anne and Frederick might have discussed was pushed aside when Henrietta realized the time and cried that she was late for her dressmaker's appointment. She recalled Anne's promise to accompany her and asked if she was ready. Anne declared herself so, though she would have preferred to remain where she was. The ladies began to ready themselves, Frederick being helpful enough to hand bonnet and gloves to Anne.

    They were nearly ready to leave when Elizabeth Elliot made a splendid entrance. Her very condescension silenced all chatter. She ceremoniously handed out invitations, taking great care to single out Frederick. He took it from her with surprise. A swift glance at Anne asked if this was her doing. Anne could not say it was. She knew her sister well enough to understand her motives. Lady Dalrymple had noticed and asked after Captain Wentworth. He was known to be as high in his profession as merit and activity could place him. And he had returned to England a rich man. In Elizabeth's mind, the past was forgotten. Today, Captain Frederick Wentworth was a man who would move well in her drawing room. The invitations handed out, Elizabeth made a very pretty speech about valuing their attendance and left them.

    Frederick was considering the invitation very seriously and it gave Anne pause. She had not doubted his presence at the party until this very moment. The look on his face was familiar - it was doubt tinged with disdain. Frederick had nothing to enjoy in an evening with her family. Anne knew this and was discouraged. It seemed that too many inclinations and circumstances were aligned to keep them from understanding each other.

    Mary whispered loudly that Frederick was awed by the privilege of the invitation. His eyes narrowed in renewed contempt and he turned away so she could not see whatever other emotion might have passed his features. Henrietta was urging them to leave and Anne was obliged to follow without another word or look from Frederick.

    Continued in Section III


    © 1998 Copyright held by the author.