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Current Posting, Chapter 17 When Frederick arrived at Camden Place that morning, Anne
asked that he escort her to the home of a friend. She hesitated telling
him where the friend resided, and it was not until after they made a stop
she spoke much bout the person at all. She handed him the box with the treats from Molland's. "I
hope you do not think ill of her. Mrs. Smith's address is not very
fashionable." After he handed her out, she took his arm without waiting
for him to offer it. He was heartened by Anne's assuming for herself the
privileges of a fiancée. Slowly she would come to her place as the wife of
a successful man. He tried no to consider what that success might become
if he were not called back to sea. Besides Anne's progress, he was extraordinarily interested
to finally learn the mysteries of the occupant of the Westgate
Buildings. The peeling door opened almost immediately and they were
admitted to a dim and peeling hallway. The small area trapped the smells
of recent and past meals, wood smoke, and strong medicines. It dissipated
as they made their way into a dimly lit parlour. Like all the other
upright surfaces of the place, the once cheery wallpaper was peeling and
the rest of the room was yellow with the cast of cheap candles. There was
an attempt to make thing comfortable with covers placed over the few
pieces of furniture offered.
Mrs. Smith was seated near the fireplace, where another
woman—introduced as a Nurse Rook—was kneeling, stirring the coals. Both
ladies greeted Anne warmly. He was greeted in similar fashion, but was
conscious he was merely a man in the domain of women.
Anne was recruited to help Nurse Rook make tea, leaving
Wentworth with Mrs. Smith. They spoke agreeably, back and forth, comparing
Anne's many virtues. Though a fascinating subject to him, it was
eventually exhausted and he thought it was the moment to enquire about
things he had observed from the street. "I shall be blunt. I know that you are acquainted with
Anne's cousin, William Elliot, and that he has visited you at least once
in the last fortnight." Mrs. Smith grew pale and her expression turned worried.
"Yes, I know the man, but I am not quite sure when I last spoke with
him." "It was just a few days ago. I saw him enter this
house." The woman was slender, nay slight in her build, but she
straightened, becoming resolved. "There is a comfort in having a clear
conscience, Captain Wentworth. You coming here today will help me to
complete something I began last week." He was puzzled with her cryptic speech, but listened
intently as she began to tell him about her association with William
Walter Elliot. Through Mrs. Smith, Wentworth learnt Elliot was, at first,
the Smith's very good friend. He had no regard for the Elliot family, or
the title he would inherit. It was after Elliot had married a rich and
silly woman, he had the means to indulge himself in any number of wicked
acts, which her money admirably concealed, and to lead her husband into
ruin that directly contributed to his death. It was Elliot who was
responsible for his friend's estate, and Elliot who had neglected such a
responsibility. She quickly, with good cheer laid out the privations of
the past three years. "And so, when he offered to do what is necessary to settle
my husband's estate, I was elated. I was not born to an exalted family,
but I was also not born to this sort of life either. The hope of improving
my circumstances made taking his part much, much
easier." "Did you not think that a man who neglects a vow to a dying
friend would most likely neglect the vows to a wife as
well?" "True, he was not good to his first wife, but Anne is not
silly and ill-bred. She would not allow him to treat her with anything but
respect and affection." He said nothing about how much disrespect her family was
capable if heaping upon her, and how she managed to put such ill treatment
aside. "We haven't much time, I fear. Tell me the
rest." "I had no opportunity to begin my campaign until last week,
on the Wednesday after a concert I knew she was to attend. I had hopes
that he might be one of the party—the gossips have him practically living
at Camden Place and I thought he would not miss an opportunity to be seen
with her and her family." He blanched inwardly. Elliot's accommodating behaviour was
based on his desire to gain Anne's trust and hand in marriage. But could
he really think himself any better. He'd acted like a fool and treated her
badly on top of it. Anne had passed it off with good-humour, but he was
now even more ashamed. All of Elliot's plans might have been upended had
he acted in a manner somewhat resembling a gentleman. Had he only taken
the seat he offered him, Elliot would have been beaten a day or two
sooner. "When she came to me the next day, I began pressing his
case. I feel ashamed now in how hard I pushed. I intimated she had been in
the most agreeable of company and that surely there is no one else she
could have wished to be with. She agreed, but then made it clear that
person was not William Elliot. May I assume it was your company she
enjoyed so much?" He shifted in his chair. The idea that Anne would consider
the evening enjoyable after his madness was embarrassing. "Yes, I suppose
it was. But she was very good to conceal my poor manners from you. I was
taken in by Elliot's performance and showed myself to be quite a jealous
fool, who acted like a petulant child." Mrs. Smith smiled. "We all act like children sometimes.
Besides, I think it was his performance as you say that made her state so
adamantly that she would never accept a proposal from him. Anywise, with
that assurance I knew his plan was ruined and decided to free myself of
his shackles, be true friend and tell her about the real William
Elliot." She told Wentworth about letting Anne read a letter
concerning Elliot's impressions of various members of the family, and
telling her about his betrayal of her husband. "As I said earlier, there
is comfort in a clear conscience and while mine is nearly completely
clear, I fear I shall lose my friend when you tell her of my near
betrayal." "There is really nothing to tell. His plans never came to
fruition. In fact, you pretty much chopped down the tree by telling her
about his character. There is nothing he will do now that she does not
view with suspicion. I think I owe you my thanks more than
anything." She relaxed for the first time since their arrival. "Thank
you, sir. I will forever be grateful for your
kindness." "And what kindness is that?" Anne asked. She placed a tray
with tea and the sweets from Molland's on the table. She began to pour and
asked again what kindness her friend spoke
of. "The captain has just been telling me he did not care for
the concert last week. I did not know he attended as
well." Anne passed the cups around. "Oh yes, the Captain loves
music, but I think it was less the music he disliked, but some of the
company was not to his liking." She smiled and passed him his
tea. As the conversation progressed, Wentworth listened and began
revolving a plan to repay Mrs. Smith's unintended kindness to
him. The following morning at Camden Place was passing quickly
for Anne. She, Lady Russell and Madam Deauville, the dressmaker, were
closeted away in the library, which was now littered with racks of lace,
bead trims, spangles, precious metal braids and the most sumptuous fabrics
she had ever seen in her life.
To her amusement, the two women seemed to be in a competition to
establish who was the more persuasive and able to entice Anne into
choosing the most beautiful, and therefore, most expensive fabrics and
trims for her wedding dress. Anne sat comfortably out of the tussle, fingering a piece of
heavy, intricately woven gold braid she thought would look lovely on
Frederick's uniform. It was entertaining to listen to the trifling
squabble between her godmother and the heavily accented seamstress. When
the two ended the their thrust and parry, Anne would tell them both she
had decided on a fabric and two particularly elegant trims, and that she
even knew how she wished the dress to be designed. Until such an
opportunity arose, she would sit quietly and
wait. "Anne, please come here." Lady Russell was unrolling yet
another length of fabric. "I want to show Madam that this colour would be
particularly fine on you, and this light is perfect to prove my point."
Anne rose to join them as Madam began chattering in French as to why the
Lady was completely wrong as she hurriedly unrolled a length of her
favourite. Just as she was about to be shrouded in lengths of moiré silk,
the door opened and her father entered the room. Just what is needed at
the moment, another opinion, Anne thought. Her mood elevated
considerably when she saw Frederick. The invasion of the gentlemen sent Madam into a steady
stream of reprimands—in French, of course—directed at the "oafish
intruders." Her father took exception at being called oafish and began a
counter argument by calling into question the lady's taste. Lady Russell
tried to bring calm to the situation while Anne and Frederick smiled at
one another over the wrangling mass. Eventually, the whole party adjourned to the sitting room.
Lady Russell had managed to placate Madam Deauville, and when Sir Walter
examined her complexion, and was told she was nearly 70 years old, he was
suddenly astonished by the seamstress's magnificent spirit and dynamic
presence. As he escorted her to the door, Anne heard him say he looked
forward to meeting her again very soon, and the lady departed with a
promise of her return the following day. Anne and Frederick were sharing tea with Lady Russell and
Miss Elizabeth, fresh from a walk, when Sir Walter returned to them.
"Captain, have you shared with the ladies all your wonderful
news?" All eyes were on Wentworth. "No, sir, not as
yet." "Well, you must tell them all of it without delay. It is
very good news." He turned to Anne. "I have spoken with my friend
McGillvary—" "That is Admiral Patrick McGillvary. His family owns
Madderly, Kinclaven and Planque. A very fine, old Bath establishment. I do
much of my own business with them." He looked as though he had arranged
the acquaintance between McGillvary and
Wentworth. "Yes, very old. Anywise, the bank has a house they are
managing for another naval friend of his, an Admiral Townsend,
and—" Sir Walter broke in again. "Sir, you must tell them where
this house is located." The Baronet beamed. Wentworth glanced at his father-in-law and reached into his
breast pocket. "Uh, yes—" He looked at the back of a calling card. "—It is
on Laura Place." So only Anne could see, he winked. "You father tells me
this is a very good address." She was confident Frederick exaggerated to
make himself sound so ignorant and uncertain. Anne smiled and took the card. "Oh yes, it is a very good
address. Coincidently, we have family who live on Laura Place. The
Viscountess Dalrymple resides there." "With such exalted personages in residence it must be a good
address." He seemed to be having trouble keeping a serious expression
firmly in place. The Baronet sighed. "The Captain wishes you go with him to
approve the house, Anne." It was clear Sir Walter was put out that Anne's
reaction was not to the level of awe he thought warranted by such
news.
Anne motioned to Frederick as she rose. "Certainly, Father.
I should have realised." She started to the
door. "But Captain, you've not told them about the party that
Admiral McGillvary is giving us at Belsom Park." His voice was getting
higher with each word. Wentworth and Anne stopped at the top of the stairs. "Miss
Anne, Miss Elizabeth, Lady Russell, Admiral McGillvary is giving us a
party at Belsom Park in a few days. You are all invited." With that, he
ushered Anne down. "We shall be in a great deal of trouble when we return."
Anne was smiling as she put on her cloak. "If we return, you mean." Frederick opened the door and
waved her out.
When they arrived at the Townsend house, Wentworth was
impressed by the refinement of the neighbourhood. Anne immediately
commented how the house was more than adequate in size for a newly wed
couple. A man came out of the house and introduced himself as Mr. Lonk,
the representative of the bank, Madderly, Kinclaven and Planque.
He showed them into the house and began immediately to point
out the superior features of the place. Straightaway, Wentworth could see the house was not
particularly to his taste. The furnishings to be exact were more opulent
and purposely intimidating that he cared to live amongst. But, when one
considered the address, and the expectations of the neighbourhood, it was
as it should be. He examined the first room more closely and was not
surprised to find the rumours about Admiral Townsend's fondness for
extremely indecent art were true. The sitting room was fitted up with a
row of vile stone statues on the intricately carved mantelpiece. A room
used as a library featured a large Oriental-style mural depicting a
preposterous seduction scene. The painting itself was of finest quality
and the skill with which it was executed was breathtaking. As for the
impossible acts it portrayed, Wentworth had to move out of the room to
keep from remarking to Mr. Lonk on the bad taste of some
people. They toured the rest of the ground floor, the kitchen, and
looked out into a small garden in the rear of the house. The first floor
boasted three bedchambers and the second was for the servants. Lonk and
Wentworth discussed some terms of the lease while Anne explored the
bedchambers. In just a few minutes, she walked by quickly and clattered
down the stairs. "Anne, dear, what is it?" Wentworth hurried after her. He
finally joined her in the garden. "What is it, Anne? Did you see a
mouse?" She whirled to face him; her mouth was a straight line and
her eyes on fire. "I have not seen a mouse, and you have evidently not
noticed the revolting furnishings in this place." Her reticule swung on
her outstretched wrist. He reached out, took her gently by the shoulders and
explained what the rumours said about the admiral's
tastes. "And you must not think ill of his taste as you have said
nothing the entire time." "Of course not. Especially not in front of Mr. Lonk." He
looked and saw the man watching them from a kitchen window. "I suppose
there was more in the bedchambers?" Anne nodded. "There is a wardrobe in the master's chambers
with marquetry all over depicting the most vile things." She looked away,
red faced. "Who could ever think of such a thing? Or buy such an article
and live with it in their midst?" "Obviously someone with more libertine tastes than yours,"
he said. "You needn't worry about anything. Lonk said anything we wish
removed will be packed up and stowed away in the
attic." She crossed her arms. "Yes, I'm sure the mural will quite
easily be packed up and stowed in the attic." Her brows were furrowed and
her mouth still unyielding. He was shocked by her harsh rejoinder. "I hadn't given any thought to the mural." Wentworth realised it was an odd compliment; that she felt secure enough to allow him to see her genuine anger. Still, her sharp reply stung.
"I don't suppose you had. Particularly if you like it." This
was the crux of the matter. "You've not expressed an opinion as of
yet." She had him there. "I think it is salacious, indecent, and nothing anyone of taste and character would have decorating their home. "It was the best he could do to sooth her. "Shall I take you home."
They thanked Mr. Lonk and Wentworth asked that he convey his
thanks to McGillvary and that he would speak to him
soon. They were not in the carriage more than a moment or two
before Anne said, "I am sorry I was so snappish." She laughed nervously
and smoothed her dress. "You might very well change your mind after seeing
such an unpleasant side of my character." Wentworth leant back against the cushions and studied her.
When he saw it made her uncomfortable, he took her hand. "I shall never
change my mind about you. It was my hope you are becoming more comfortable
with me, and I suppose, showing me a pettish side is part and parcel of
that. But please know, Anne, I am nothing like Townsend. There is nothing
so reprehensible inside me waiting to spring upon you." She pulled
slightly on her hand but he would not release
it. The carriage moved on and for a short time each looked past
the other, through the opposite windows. Anne finally said, "After you
left that summer, through the fall and winter I was very depressed. Father
ignored it, and Elizabeth scolded me for trying to elicit her sympathy.
Lady Russell was beside herself with worry." She squeezed his hand. "More
than once I awoke sorely disappointed that I had awakened at all. I
frightened myself as much as I might have frightened
her." Frederick edged close. "I'm sorry, my girl." He put an arm
around her. She pulled back a little so she might see his face. "I don't
tell you this to make you feel badly, but to explain myself this
afternoon." She settled back against him. "One day, she told me I should
be quite thankful I had not married a man of the
world—" The phrase was common enough, but it was familiar for some
other reason he could not quite put his finger on at that
moment. "—she said that they learn many things as they go about
conquering and bringing civilization to the world—they develop tastes and
expectations, which are foreign to us here, but which they expect
fulfilled. She said that, thankfully, most seek satisfaction outside their
marriages, but that some—" "You needn't say anymore. I understand your meaning." He
could not help wondering what sort of man must Lady Russell's husband
been. He remembered then telling Lady Russell of Sir Walter's
equating himself to Wentworth as men of the world and her smiling upon
hearing it. He wondered if, as he thought then, she was amused by the
irony of a country-bound man proclaiming such nonsense, or if the irony
was that she still thought of him as a man schooled in libertine ways.
"So, this parable of men's wickedness was meant to bring you
comfort?" "As I said, she was desperate. I knew she was trying to
portray my breaking the engagement as an escape of sorts, and I knew the
idea that you were like that to be ridiculous. Her attempt gave me no
comfort at all." She removed her glove and stroked his wrist. "Does that
comfort you?" The touch of her hand? Or that she knew he was no reprobate?
"To know that my leaving hurt you so deeply? No. But I am heartened that
you didn't believe me to be a Blue Beard." Her touch on his wrist was
driving him mad and he took both her hands in his. "Has she mentioned this
recently?" "No, most definitely not. I'm sure she doesn't even remember
it. She has nothing but praise for you lately. You might be her son for
all the glowing comments." Thank God. Were she still holding such opinions, being in
company with her would be impossible. "Perhaps I can tell you something
which will make you feel safer with me." "If it involves Admiral Townsend and his house, I have no
wish to hear it." Wentworth laughed. "Nothing involving him, I assure you."
For an instant, he wished the sweet comfort of riding idly along the
streets of Bath could be done without blathering about Townsend and ideas
sown in the past. "You remember that summer, I was confident I would have a
ship soon? After our break-up, I had every intention of staying in
Monkford until I received orders. But I soon found I could not stand being
mere miles from you. For days I tortured myself remembering your scent,
and the taste of the few kisses we shared. Though Edward tried to change
my mind, I left and went to Plymouth. I borrowed some money and found
cheap lodgings. I went back to the life I knew. Within days, a miracle
happened and I was holding a packet of orders for a ship called,
Asp." The feeling was still bright in his memory. " She was a
clumsy old tub, but I knew that if I could keep her afloat, and keep my
crew alive, I would have learnt more from her than a hundred first class
ships." He chastened himself. This conversation was not for him to relive
the glories of the past, but to put Anne's spoken, and unspoken fears
about their life together to rest. "Immediately I began making the repairs I could to the old
dear, and pressing men and looking forward to making my fortune. Finally,
all I could do was accomplished and it was the evening before we weighted
anchor. I had spent a good part of the night with a particularly lovely
woman—" Anne stopped breathing. "—who laughed heartily at all my jokes.
She praised my person lavishly, and when I told her a few of my more
exciting stories of battles or storms, she responded with the proper
amount of terror of the dangers I faced, and relief when I was spared. The
evening was perfect." Anne sat straight. "And this is supposed to bring me
comfort?" He was sorry for her troubled face, but continued. "You will
like the end, I assure you." She did not return to his side, but leant
against the cushions and toyed with her reticule.
"I was quite pleased with myself as I walked back to my
lodgings. The ship was ready, and I would make my escape the following
day. Suddenly, I was faced with a woman of the same sort I had spent the
evening with, only she worked on the streets and was not so pretty."
Frederick paused and looked at Anne. She fully understood
what he was trying to tell her about the two women, particularly the
first. He hurried to bring her some relief. "She told me how much she
cost, but it was what she said after that ruined everything." Anne took a
new interest in this. "She said, 'I'll tell you whatever you wish to hear,
sir.' I was always
repulsed by having to pay for affection. And after night so pleasing, it
was a marked let-down being reminded that I had paid for the first woman's
flattery and laughter." Wentworth took Anne's hand again. "It was
particularly irksome because I had met a wonderful young woman who had
taught me what it was to look into a woman's eyes and know she genuinely
thought me funny, and who genuinely complimented me—when I deserved it and
not otherwise—and a woman who, when she listened to my stories, was truly
happy that I was victorious. Or just alive. When it's paid for, affection
is not much different than a hogshead of beer, or a cask of dried fish,
don't you think, dear?" Anne gazed at him as he spoke. Again her fingers caressed
his bare wrist. She nodded. "So, you were constant to
me." He edged close and took her hands. "Yes, I admit to that,
but as I said the other day, it was unintentional, and completely
unconscious. Do not credit me with a virtue I do not deserve." He
hurriedly pulled off his gloves. Her cheek was soft and warm. "I don't
wish you to think of me as if I was a knight who chivalrously surrendered
the thoughts of all women because I could not have the perfect one." She
pressed his hand more tightly to her cheek. "For two years it was anger that kept me at sea, proving
myself to the phantoms of your family. It was that anger and accompanying
pride, which kept me from writing you in '08. After that, it was simply a
desire to avoid being fooled by the craftier sex. If there is any
constancy that was clear-eyed and sacrificial, my dear, it was yours."
To his horror, he she began to cry. Before he could say
anything, she rushed him and kissed him hard on the lips. In his mind he
saw images of his more gallant self, easing her gently away but those
images were not real and her kisses most definitely were.
Eventually, when the carriage jerked violently to avoid
something in the road, they came to their senses. Anne looked out the window as she straightened her bonnet.
"It was a lovely house. I mean, aside from the despicable furnishings."
She didn't turn to look at him. Wentworth was putting on his gloves. "Yes, it was. But,
there are other lovely houses in Bath. We shall continue looking." He was
exceedingly glad the wedding date was coming upon them so
quickly. She still didn't look at him, but reached out her hand. "You
mention that Admiral McGillvary is giving us a
party." He took her hand and edged closer. "Yes, he is inviting
every naval officer he can shake out of the trees. He's sure it will drive
your father to distraction. And he's especially interested in your sister
attending." She turned at this. "Elizabeth! How does he know about her?"
Anne edged closer to him. "Let me tell you about McGillvary and what he knows about
your sister." Sir Walter had been exceedingly disappointed Wentworth had
not seen fit to take the house on Laura Place. But it was explained to him
that the captain felt his presence, as a mere captain, in the
neighbourhood might discomfit more than a few of the exalted personages
who called the street home. Such deference to rank could not be viewed by
the baronet as anything but a commendable understanding of the natural
order of things. Any disappointment the old boy felt was made up for the
evening of McGillvary's party. The Admiral sent his finest carriage to
convey the all the Elliots and Captain Wentworth to Belsom Park. Frederick
couldn't help think the barouche, with its fine cherry wood and oxblood
leather interior was to impress Miss Elizabeth Elliot. Anyone else's
comfort was merely a pleasant concurrence of events. Unfortunately, his
troubles would be for naught and disappointment was definitely on the menu
that evening. Admiral McGillvary himself greeted them at the door. As
their coats were being taken, Patrick drew Wentworth aside. "So, where is
she?" "Miss Elliot is sorry she cannot attend, but she has a very
bad head cold and needs her rest." His friend's frozen smile made
Wentworth pity him. "Anne says she is truly very ill. And if it makes you
feel better, ill tempered as well." He could see the clarification did no
good. "Blast, cajoling women out of their ill temper is a
speciality of mine. No matter, this party is for you and your lovely
fiancé. Whom I have not met." Patrick gestured towards Anne and her
father. The introductions were made and Anne and Sir Walter were
brought into the main room. Belsom Park, for being one of the most fashionable addresses
in Bath, was also one of its least seen. Upon the death of Patrick's
stepmother years before, the social life of the place was winnowed down to
business dinners hosted by Patrick's father. Now that the son was master
of the house, intimate dinners were occasionally mounted, but the most
life in the house came when Patrick's daughter, Coral, was in
residence. "Sir Walter, I wanted to make sure you had a good evening
and so invited a friend of yours." Admiral McGillvary brought the Baronet
to Colonel and Mrs. Wallis. He bowed to the ladies. "Now, Ma'am, Miss
Elliot, I need to steal the captain away for just a
moment." As they walked off, Patrick said, "Colonel Wallis will need
some good company, he's the only Lobster in the place." He laughed out
loud, not caring who looked. McGillvary's quiet, snug office was welcome after the noise
and confusion of the public rooms. Wentworth thought, as he took an
offered seat that he would much rather be having dinner with Anne in here
than out in the circus-like atmosphere of the party. Patrick handed him a
black box from Harvey and Gore of London. "I thought your Mr. Bleeker lived here in
Bath." "He does. When he delivered it, he explained the design was
worked out when he worked for them. He'd just never finished the necklace
you chose. And he remarked that ladies especially are quite impressed when
given something from them. I told him I doubted your Miss Elliot would be.
Listen, Wentworth, I remember how steamed you were that night when I spoke
about her. I'm sorry. She seems like a lovely young woman." He didn't wait
for a reply and went to his desk. Wentworth opened the box and was speechless with pleasure.
The necklace flashed of gold and luminescent white in the firelight. Too
long to be considered a choker, and too short to be a proper necklace, the
thirty pearls were each nestled in a golden setting that together cried
out for the warmth of flesh. "So, will it do?" McGillvary
asked. "It sings of Annie." Frederick didn't look, fearing
McGillvary would be put off by his impulsive
sentiments. "Sir." It was Jamison, Belsom Park's
butler. McGillvary joined him at the door. "That being the case,
I'll leave you two alone." He stepped side and Anne stepped
in. Anne quietly thanked the Admiral as she entered the room.
"He said you wished to see me." She joined him at the fireplace. There was
another chair, but he clearly wanted her close, and drew her into his lap.
He had one hand on the arm behind her; she could feel him
occasionally touch her. "I received an unexpected windfall the other day,
after the windfall of your accepting me back, and I decided I wanted you
to have this." With the other hand, he drew a black jewel case from beside
him. Anne was hesitant at first. It was large enough to be
something of value. Gradually, she could feel her own expression let go like
that of an excited child. She took the case and opened it. All the breath
left her. "Frederick," was all she could say. It was a necklace, and all
she could do was caress it in its black velvet-resting
place. "Come, let us see how it looks." She rose unsteadily, and
turned away from him. He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her
back facing him. He took great pleasure in watching her expression as the
cool gold touched her skin. She reached up and touched it tentatively.
"There, that is perfection," he said. She glanced at the fire, just a little hurt that he seemed
to notice the necklace more than her. "I am sure it makes me look very
pretty." The pearls in their little golden nests were already beginning to
warm and the feel of them was a sort of consolation. "You are terribly
clever to fasten it without looking." She smiled and glanced away
again. To her surprise, he stepped closer. "Yes, I am. And I didn't
mean the necklace was perfection." He put his hand over hers fingering the
necklace. "I meant it is now perfected by being around the perfect neck—"
His fingers trailed up her neck. Her eyes fluttered and her breathing
stopped. "—of the perfect woman." He tilted her chin up and kissed her
gently, but firmly. The wedding could not come soon enough to relieve Anne's
growing passion towards Frederick. She should pull
away— "Captain." The voice was Patrick's.
"Captain." Frederick pulled away first, though it took him some time as
well to respond to the call. She stepped away, not looking to the door
where Patrick stood. "Wha—" Frederick's voice was ragged. He cleared his throat
and said, "What is it Admiral?" McGillvary stepped into the office. "There is someone to see
you." He spoke quietly. Wentworth left her by the fireplace and joined him. "Send
them in." Nodding towards Anne, he said something she could not
hear. Anne looked from the flames towards the two men. They were
quietly discussing something of great import. Finally, Frederick said,
"Bring him in here. She will have to know sometime."
The next few moments were a blur. A man in a blood-red
uniform entered, bowed to the gentlemen and handed Frederick a thick
letter. The butler was ordered to take the man to the kitchen and be fed.
Anne knew in the depth of her heart what the letter said. The tips of her
fingers hummed with energy. All their plans for a quiet, happy life were
ruined. He broke the seal and read. "I report to Whitehall in 10
days." "That's awfully cryptic, Frederick." McGillvary took the
letter and read as well. "I've never heard of such orders. But that's all it
says." McGillvary looked at Anne, then to Frederick. "I'm sure
there's nothing to worry about." Frederick glared at his friend. "I mean,
knowing those beef-witted sods, they've not decided what to do with you
yet. They just want to keep you in easy reach, that's all." He went to his
desk. "As he said, there's nothing to worry about, Anne. I'll
report and be told it's some boring duty, escorting a ship or some such.
Nothing to worry over." "You said you report in ten
days?" "Aye, ten days." He handed her the
letter. The paper was heavy and the seal black as night. The words
were straightforward. Knowing from where the orders derived gave them
added weight. She handed the detestable thing back. "We are to be married
in seven days." He took it and only glanced at it as he set it down. "Of
course, nothing will change those plans." He took her hand. "Once we are
married will we have a few days as man and
wife." Seven days to wait. Seven days to dread his leaving, all the
while her family buzzing around their heads like angry bees. It would be
the longest week of their lives. "Might you marry sooner?" McGillvary
asked. "No, we were barely able to schedule the church as it was.
It seems there is a great rush to marry in Bath," Frederick
said. "Special License? Nothing like the glow of an expensive
piece of paper to make an occasion." Frederick finally looked from her. "You know that the minute
I step inside the city limits of London I am
theirs." "Who would know?" Patrick leant against his desk and crossed
his arms. "I would know." "Ah, yes, that super fine sense of honour you possess. I
forgot about it." "What if we
were to go to Gretna Green?" Anne offered. Both the gentlemen turned and
stared. The answer seemed simple enough. The source however, was
unexpected. "Anne, I don't think you know what you're asking. It's
three, possibly four days journey. What do we
gain?" "Time together without my family making a nuisance of
themselves, and three, perhaps fours days more as husband and
wife." "She's got you on that one, Captain." To Anne, McGillvary
said, "Excellent mathematics, Miss." "Dear, I just don't think it would be a good idea. It is a
rough road, and do you really wish to be wed by a blacksmith on the
green?" "I wish to be wed to you, period. As soon as
possible." "The girl sounds as if she knows what she wants, Frederick.
And for some misbegotten reason, it's you." "Patrick, please. Anne, I just do not wish you to be
disappointed. And have you thought about when we return? We might have a
few days more married, but I would have to leave nearly immediately upon
returning and leave you with …" "Gossip. The idle prating of people who have nothing better
to occupy them. I've been the object of that when I did nothing more than
live my life. I might as well give them something genuine to speculate
upon." "I do not wish to leave you in the midst of a scandal, and
the cost of all of it—" She reached up to unfasten the necklace. Her shaking fingers
could not find the clasp. "Surely the cost of this will cover a journey to
Gretna Green." Even bringing the clasp to the front helped
little. "Stop that, Anne. That is not what I
meant." "I have never asked you for anything! I wish to go to Gretna
and that we should be married!" She dropped her hands and fought the
overwhelming desire to cry. "Anne, you are being silly—" "Don't patronize me, please!" "Frederick, perhaps you
should—" "Shut up, Patrick—" "Captain!" The men glared at one another, as Anne regretted
bringing things to such an antagonistic turn. The admiral stepped forward and picked up the orders again.
"My, my, Frederick, a beautiful young woman is willing to give you a very
lovely piece of jewellery to entice you into whisking her off to Scotland
to marry her. And you, you muttonhead, hesitate." He tossed them down.
"You had better change your mind, or I may just have to allow myself to be
bribed." Frederick's gaze did not waver from her face. His jaw was
rigid, except for the occasional twitch. Anne feared she had pushed him
beyond reason. |