"Was there no other way the dress could be finished, my dear?" Lady Russell's brows rose in surprise. "My, my! I must say, I do not at all approve!"

In keeping with a little custom begun in Kellynch, Anne had come home with her after church; the two of them were enjoying a light collation in Lady Russell's lovely salon. This was her idea of 'quiet cheerfulness:' a simple, homely meal, served without pretense or ceremony in front of the fire. Today the fare had been Strasburg Pie, her French-trained cook's notion of 'homely' cuisine.

"Anne, my love," Lady Russell continued, fussing a little over the serving cart at her side; "Mary simply must not be allowed to abuse your kind nature in such a way! You ought to give her a hint ... or perhaps I shall do so when I see her next."

"Oh, no! Truly, it was not as bad as it now sounds. It gave me something to occupy myself with during the visit ..."

"Yes, but Anne, consider!" She passed a serving dish containing sliced fruit to Anne. "How would it appear if all my acquaintance in Bath knew you were working away at, oh ... hemming my new draperies whenever you came to see me? It does not become your position as Mary's sister ... nor would it as my very good friend, dear ... to be doing the work of a paid companion!"

"No, Amanda, I suppose not. But it was so very satisfying to see how well the dress came out. I took much greater pleasure than I ever thought I would in simply watching Mary wear it to the wedding yesterday." The bright sections of orange and the halved strawberries looked very colorful and appealing in the cut crystal bowl. Although no longer very hungry, Anne put a second helping of the fruit onto her plate. "I wonder ... do you suppose my dressmaker has felt the same?"

"No, probably not. Mrs. Minkton has no proper feelings at all. But, my dear," Lady Russell smiled encouragingly as Anne returned the bowl; " have you a dressmaker here in Bath?" She was hoping to learn that Anne had ordered some new clothing.

"No, not at present, but Elizabeth does. And I must say that her creations are absolutely stunning. Elizabeth does them justice, of course." Anne set her plate on the small table at her side and took up her teacup. "I had never thought of it before," she said, taking a sip, "but I suppose she must be a help in bringing Madame Beauvallet new business, for every woman would wish to look like Elizabeth."

"Well, that is debatable." Lady Russell did not wish to give Elizabeth more countenance than she deserved, even if she were not present in the room. "What did you wear to the wedding, Anne?"

"Oh, my pink silk. But it looked quite well," she quickly added. Lady Russell knew how old that particular dress was; she had assisted in its choosing it four years ago. "Mary helped me style my hair very nicely, with satin flowers and a gardenia. I felt ... pretty."

"I am sure you were lovely, dear one. Pink is a very becoming colour for you. Would you like some more tea?" She continued conversing pleasantly as she refilled both cups. "Tell me, how did Louisa Musgrove appear? Excuse me, Mrs. Wen ... ah, the bride, I should say. What was her dress like?"

Anne blanched at the question, for she did not know. "It was of lilac silk, I believe," she replied, a little reluctantly. What had Louisa's gown looked like? She had avoided the wedding party so completely that she had never noticed Louisa or what she was wearing.

"Lilac! That is a rather odd colour for Louisa Musgrove to choose. And what was the style of it? I mean, did the dress have any particular detailing that was pretty?"

Anne stared at the teacup in her hands, trying to think of something to say about Louisa's gown. Did it have long sleeves or short? What type of neckline? Had Louisa worn a hat? She did not want to lie to Lady Russell; instead she merely smiled. "I am sorry, I cannot recall. There were such a throng of guests at the breakfast!"

"Yes, of course. You do not need tell me that! Sadie Musgrove cannot give a party without inviting a crush of people; there are so many in that family! Well! I am sure it was a very nice gown ... for Louisa. And who else did you see of our acquaintance?"

"I did see Edward Wentworth." Anne replied, relieved to be rid of the subject of the dress. "Excuse me, I mean to say Reverend Wentworth, for he has his own parish in Shropshire now."

"So Mrs. Croft has told me," she smiled pleasantly. "And so, how is he? What has he been doing of late?"

"I, ah ... I only spoke to him for the barest moment, Amanda. I am afraid I do not know."

"Only spoke to ..." Lady Russell frowned in surprise. "Your very favorite curate? The one you used to spend so much time with, helping in that village school of his? You only spoke for a moment?" Lady Russell assumed a gently reproachful look. "I cannot believe it!"

"It was the crowd, Amanda! You know how stupid I am at big parties."

"No indeed! You are never so! I should rather say you were tired, dear, from all that work on Mary's gown, and from spending so much of your time with the children."

"Yes, I suppose that was it." And I am tired now, for I barely slept at all last night, Anne thought as she stirred her tea, hoping for a shift in the conversation. It did no good to try to change the subject; one had to answer Amanda Russell's questions as best one could until the subject was exhausted, for she would mulishly bring the conversation right back to the point which had puzzled her, until she was satisfied.

"Do you know, I am just a little curious! Was that Navy friend of Charles and Mary's there, the one they met in Lyme? I believe he was a friend of Louisa's new husband." Lady Russell was careful to avoid mentioning Frederick Wentworth by name.

Anne's eyes widened and she looked down at her teacup. Carefully she removed the teaspoon and placed it on the saucer as Lady Russell talked on. "I cannot recall his name! He is the man who reads poetry and philosophical books; Charles Musgrove thought he admired you very much!"

Anne looked up, rather hesitantly. "Do you mean ... Captain Benwick?"

"Ah! That is the one! Did you see him there?"

"Yes ... at Barcelona."

She gasped. What am I saying? "I mean ... yes! He was there! And we ... had a nice ... conversation." Anne felt herself go red in the face, and she looked down into her teacup once again. Barcelona! Vividly she could recall the sensation of James Benwick's lips on hers and his tender, unhurried kisses ... Anne squirmed in her chair, acutely aware of Lady Russell's eyes upon her. That wretched dream! Her heart was racing. It was a dream! It was! He did not actually ...

"Anne?" Lady Russell was smiling. "I believe you enjoyed your conversation!" She gave her young friend an arch look. "Did you not?"

"Yes ... No! I mean, which one?" Anne looked up and smiled weakly at her friend. "We had several."

"Oh? Well then! You must tell me about each of them! Is this why you spoke with no one else at the party?"

"We ... ah, talked of ... nothing in particular!" This was not precisely accurate; conscience-stricken, Anne struggled to correct herself. "I mean, nothing which would ... be of particular interest to you! We spoke of ... Lyme, ah ... our friends, Kellynch Hall ... he was staying there ... a guest of the Crofts." Anne stammered a little as she answered, for Lady Russell's question came quite close to the truth. Setting her cup and saucer down on the small table at her side, she boldly made a bid to turn the conversation. "But Amanda, you were saying ... something earlier about ... Mr. Elliot and a gift. I wish you will tell me more about it, instead."

Amanda Russell's face flushed with pleasure. "William Elliot? Oh! Why yes! Let me show you what I found. Now where have I put that paper?" She had been very circumspect in her references to Mr. Elliot, for in the past Anne had expressed an aversion to conversing about him. But today! She got up at once and began to hunt through her newspapers to find the item about the mysterious 'Mr. E.'

'Which one' ... how stupid can I be? Anne silently berated herself as she waited for Lady Russell to return to her seat. 'At ... Barcelona'! She picked up her fork and speared a piece of fruit on her plate. I think I truly abominate James Benwick!

Amanda Russell came rustling back across the room, newspaper in hand. "Here it is, dear. An interesting reference in the society page last week about someone I believe we both know. Now where are my ... ah!" She took up her spectacles from their place on her writing desk, rejoined Anne, and proceeded to read the sentences in question.

Mr E, a gentleman of some reputation and fortune, here she paused to smile significantly at Anne, has made a very generous, anonymous contribution to the Orphean Operatic & Theatrical Society of Bath. This gift, sorely needed by the struggling company, enables it to proceed with the sponsorship of the concert of Italian music as scheduled.

Lady Russell looked over the top of her spectacles. "Is this not the musical society that Lady Dalrymple patronises? I seem to recall her mentioning a concert."

Anne hastily swallowed the bite of fruit before she answered. "Yes, I believe it is. Father has procured tickets for us; we will be joining Lady Dalrymple's party that evening."

"How excellent of him! I am pleased that you shall have an opportunity to enjoy yourself, Anne. Your cousin must also have a keen interest in music, to have given such a gift. Shall he be attending with you?"

"I am not certain." Anne took up the newspaper herself, frowning a little as she read the piece about Mr. E. "And I know nothing of a contribution. But I have been gone for almost a fortnight. I shall ask him about it, if you like." She returned the paper to Lady Russell. "But we cannot expect him to own it, as it was an anonymous gift."

"Yes, of course. Do you ... expect to see him soon, Anne?" Lady Russell was unable to hide her curiosity.

"Yes, he has been invited to join us for dinner tonight," Anne replied, taking care to appear disinterested. "He has been coming to call nearly every evening ... or such was his habit before I left for Mary's. I believe he is fond of Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth? I ... well!" She smiled kindly at Anne, " It seems to me that he may have someone else in mind, which pleases me greatly. As much as I care about Elizabeth, I ... but we must be patient, dear. It is early days yet, for him."

Anne rose, made her way over to the serving cart beside Lady Russell, and began busying herself with pouring out another cup of tea. She murmured an indistinct reply.

Lady Russell pursed her lips, debating within herself as she watched her young friend replace the teapot and return to her seat. There were risks involved with speaking forthrightly on this subject, and yet ... the consequences of allowing her goddaughter to miss such an advantageous opportunity to fix her cousin's affections were such that drastic action might be necessary. Anne had made her opinion quite clear at the beginning of February, but the month was nearly gone, and Lady Russell was unwilling to dismiss the matter entirely. She took another sip of her tea, as if to fortify herself, and began again.

"Do you know, Anne," she said kindly, " we have conversed about this before, and I realise that it is not a subject exactly to your liking, but there are some particulars which I wonder if you have considered regarding your cousin ..." She saw Anne unconsciously stiffen, but Amanda Russell was made of sterner stuff than her gentle tone of voice implied. A strong sense of duty, as well as a genuine love for Anne's mother forced her to speak. "It never does to be caught unawares, dear, where a gentleman's affections are concerned. There is much to be done, much to be decided, even before he even realises the extent of his ..."

"Amanda, if you are speaking of Mr. Elliot, I have said before that much as I respect and admire him, I believe we should not suit."

"Perhaps not, Anne." Lady Russell spoke tenderly, choosing her words very carefully now. It would cost her pride a little, this conversation, but if Anne could be persuaded to follow her advice, it would be more than worth the sacrifice. "But perhaps you are mistaken, somewhat, in your opinion. Or it may be that you are a little too ... nice ... in your preferences, dear one. I must admit," she paused to adjust the position of her cup and saucer on the table beside her, "he is nothing in comparison to your handsome sea captain. But ..." her eyes met Anne's directly, "any hope of him renewing his addresses is past. You must consider your future now."

Anne's whole body went rigid with shame. She felt hot and cold all at once; she bent her eyes away from Lady Russell's to stare blankly at the windows facing the back garden. The sun shining cheerily in through the sparkling glass panes seemed to mock at the bleak, dead feeling in her heart.

"In a way, it is a great pity that he did not do so," Lady Russell remarked candidly. Anne turned her eyes to stare incredulously at her friend. "He was, after all, quite a charming, personable young man. Very ... witty, as I recall! You do realise," Lady Russell had dropped her eyes to study her own wedding ring, turning it round her finger as she spoke, "I only opposed the match because of your age ... and the uncertain state of his career." She raised her eyes to meet Anne's. "I am ... I regret the necessity of having to give the advice I did, Anne. Under more advantageous circumstances, I am sure you would have been toler ... ahem! ... quite happy."

Anne was bereft of speech. Was Lady Russell actually apologizing for the past?

"But be that as it may, please hear me now." Lady Russell fixed her gaze on Anne, her eyes were full of compassion. "I do understand what you are feeling, Anne, although I am sure you think that I do not! But these ... passionate feelings, these ... romantic notions ... do not always ..." Lady Russell's voice wavered a little; she appeared to be struggling under the weight of strong emotion. Anne had never seen her quite this way before; she leaned forward in her chair, her face full of concern.

Lady Russell took a deep breath and regained control of herself. "Ah me! Well ... at this point, we must be realistic." She hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating about what she should say, as if she were about to share a confidence.

"My dear, please do not make the mistake of mourning for a love which is not returned. Not at your time of life, Anne. It is too easy to do, to waste years, so many years, waiting for your beloved one's heart to turn, only to be ... disappointed." Lady Russell's face had a sorrowful, wistful look. "And so much time has been lost for you!" Again she began to turn her wedding ring.

"I do not mean to criticise your dear father in all of this, for he believes he was doing right in expending so much time and effort to secure an excellent marriage partner for Elizabeth first. But ..." Lady Russell's eyes met Anne's in a sympathetic gaze. "You have been buried too long in the limited society of Kellynch, and that during the most crucial years of your young womanhood! And now." Lady Russell sighed heavily. "Well. I believe in facing the facts, and the fact is ... Oh, dear one ... your twenty-ninth birthday will be upon us in August. And your prospects ... for marrying a man who has never been married before are considerably ... diminished."

"Indeed, Amanda, I have no desire to marry," Anne found her voice, with difficulty.

"But you cannot remain as you are!" Lady Russell's voice was full of concern. "I had so wished for you to avoid a life of degrading dependence, which is why I disapproved of your engagement to that ... first young man. But you are living such a life now, you are continuing to languish in Elizabeth's shadow! It quite breaks my heart!"

Anne looked up and saw the unthinkable: Lady Russell's eyes had tears in them. "If only your sister had not been so ... so overly particular during her seasons in London," she said bitterly, "perhaps she would have married ... and you would have had your chance!"

"I think it was rather that Father was extremely particular in his requirements, Amanda," Anne said quietly. Over the years she had overheard snatches of impassioned arguments on this subject; Elizabeth pleading, her father steadfastly refusing to hear anything she had to say. It did not surprise her that her very lovely sister would make more than a few conquests; nor did it surprise her that her father would consider all but the very foremost men of the ton eligible.

"Oh no, dear! We mustn't criticise him, for he was only doing the duty that every father of a very beautiful girl must, that is, to see to it that she makes the very best alliance possible. No, he has told me quite plainly that Elizabeth is at fault, and I can well believe it!"

Anne swallowed her reply and looked down at her cup and saucer; by now the tea was cold and undrinkable. This was a most unusual conversation, it brought about the oddest feelings: hopelessness and at the same time, a strange sensation of detachment. By this reckoning, Lady Russell was right, many years had been wasted and her prospects were indeed limited. Wasted like this tea, Anne thought, which has sat in the cup too long.

"I am sorry, Anne, to plague you with my opinion of Mr. Elliot. But he is the first truly suitable gentleman to come your way in quite some time and I have been quite carried away by it all."

Anne sighed. "I know so little about him, Amanda," she confessed, rather touched by her friend's sincerity.

"So ... you must take the time to learn more, dear! Goodness," she smiled, "did you think I was asking you to decide right away? Nothing could be further from the truth! Indeed," Lady Russell lowered her voice confidingly; "a wise woman carefully studies the man she has in mind and makes her decision independently. It is very foolish to wait to make up one's mind until the moment he proposes, for in the awkwardness of the moment one might be tempted to consent simply to avoid hurting his feelings ... and that would never do!"

Anne thought about this and took another sip of tea, forgetting that it was cold. She is advising me to observe and evaluate William Elliot. It is not an unreasonable request. And it is wise to come to a decision beforehand. All too well she remembered her complete surprise at Charles Musgrove's impulsive, heartfelt proposal. Fortunately she had known her own mind well enough to refuse him at once. But Lady Russell was right, the look of pained disappointment on his face very nearly caused her to change her mind. No, she had not loved Charles, not in the way she had loved Frederick Wentworth. And at that time she had cherished a hope that Frederick would someday return for her.

But now, more than six years later, she had sometimes wondered whether she had been too precipitate in turning down such a kind and good-hearted man as Charles. Perhaps ... she mused, perhaps Mr. Elliot has changed from the foolish, headstrong man he was in his younger years. Perhaps he regrets his past mistakes. I may have been too hasty in forming an opinion about him. She took another sip from her cup; the cold tea was not nearly as bad as she had thought.

"You said earlier that there were some particulars I should consider about my cousin. What were they, ah, specifically?"

"Well," Lady Russell leaned forward in her seat, "you know about his fortune, and his expectations, so we won't go into that. (As if you would marry for those reasons!) And you may see for yourself how distinguished he is in his appearance, and in his opinions and manners, and how generally agreeable he is in company." Anne nodded very slightly, trying not to betray the interest as she was feeling.

"But it occurs to me, that a very important consideration in evaluating a man, any man, not just William Elliot, is the fact that he has no children from his previous marriage. Only just this week," Lady Russell sighed, shaking her head sadly; "I have heard from a longtime friend, who was the second wife of a prominent gentleman in Kent. This husband has recently passed on, and you may guess the rest of the story. The bulk of his estate, as well as the manor house, and all its furnishings and appointments, went to his son by his first marriage and I do not need to tell you that her style of life has altered drastically. I have written to her, suggesting that she come to reside in Bath, among all the other Îmerry widows' like me," she smiled at Anne in her pleasant way, "and I hope she shall do so! And perchance, in time, she may find a pleasant gentleman to marry."

The mention of Îtime' brought Anne's thoughts back to the present abruptly. "Oh dear! What is the ..." She looked over her shoulder at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Ah, I am sorry, Amanda! I do not mean to be ... impolite ... but I must leave right away! I should not have stayed so late!"

"But of course, dear one." Lady Russell rose gracefully from her seat with a smile of understanding. "You have an important dinner engagement this evening. I do not wish to detain you from anything you need to do by way of preparation. Indeed, I am sorry to have kept you so long, listening to me gabble on." She walked over to the bell pull and gave it a tug. "It is a pleasure to have you back, Anne," she said kindly, "I have missed you very much. Longwell will arrange to have the carriage brought to take you home."

On any other day, Anne would have preferred to walk, for there was much to think over in what her friend had said. But tonight she was to entertain William Elliot, and while there was much to think on, there was also much to be done.

I am a little tired of languishing in Elizabeth's shadow,, she thought, as Longwell handed her into Lady Russell's carriage a little later. Perhaps I have been too hasty in forming an opinion about my cousin.

| <-- Previous |

| Continue --> |

| Home | E-mail |
Copyright © held by authors