Attaining a husband was the ultimate goal.
Thus was the most important lesson Louisa Musgrove ever learned.
And it was ingrained on her each year of her life.
There was a 'but' however; marrying wasn't the ultimate goal for men.
And men were worldly, they knew many women. They would know women who were worse than you, and they knew women who were better than you.
So you needed to present yourself in the best possible way, if you wanted to marry well.
And for this, there were general rules to which one had to adhere.
The first couple were simple: don't be tainted, keep your reputation clean and pure, pray to God that you grow up pretty.
The next rules were a bit more difficult. They required a certain balance that was hard to find. And admittedly, they made Louisa a bit uncomfortable. It all felt so forced, how men were allowed to be creatures of very diverse dispositions and all women were expected to be the same, yet better than one another.
It was always said a woman needed to be accomplished, yet not too accomplished.
Serious enough to handle matters of the home, yet not too serious she was to be considered dull.
Joyful women attracted men more easily, since men had enough burdens you had to convince them you were the ideal person to cheer them up.
It was this knowledge which comforted Louisa Musgrove. For she was certainly all of the above.
And Miss Anne, who she greatly admired as a person, seemed to be none of these things.
Louisa had always doubted that being too accomplished or a bit too serious could be considered as serious flaws. Yet she was confronted with the truth of these words when she looked to her small world.
The married women in her environment were most definitely a bit silly compared to their husbands.
And Miss Anne, who was certainly a great deal smarter than herself, and closer in age to Captain Wentworth, didn't seem to get as much attention from the blond captain as she herself did.
It was a pity for Miss Anne, for she had certainly reached an age at which she ought to be married. She was definitely smarter and kinder than many a woman already married. It was odd that nobody but her brother Charles had ever considered asking her hand in marriage. She wished for Miss Anne's happiness with all her heart.
Yet, Louisa wasn't going to deny herself such a magnificent husband as Captain Wentworth. Handsome, well-liked, wealthy, clever and kind, if he showed an interest in her she would be a fool to let him go!
He had to be interested in her. He had expressed a desire to get married and had spent much time with their company. He seemed to prefer her company above all other unmarried women.
When she was younger, her mother had ensured her daughters got the correct disposition. She took them on daily walks. Allowed them hours a day to work on their art, poetry and music, and encouraged them to dance, sing and play when there was a party. Whenever they cried, she urged them not to. Whenever they felt like sulking in a corner when they reached the confusing age of thirteen, their mother pulled them out of it and forced them to be sociable.
Frowns hadn't been allowed. If they weren't smiling, their mother made them aware of it until a smile had become their neutral expression.
And as such, yes, Louisa Musgrove's natural disposition had become everything it had to be to appeal a man.
Now all she needed to do, was use her knowledge of what men liked, to make Captain Wentworth fall for her.
"If I loved a man, as she loves the Admiral, I would be always with him, nothing should separate us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven safely by anybody else."
And she meant it. For love, love was this magical overpowering thing. The one thing she wished for which she didn't already have. It seemed incredible; to have someone you could confide in, to have the knowledge there was someone on this world who chose you, and was with you always even when not directly together.
How peaceful it seemed, going to bed knowing you were loved by someone. It seemed very different from being loved by family.
"Had you?" Captain Wentworth cried, "I honour you!"
Was this a confirmation? Did he simply agree with her or had she impressed him with her statement?
At another moment during their walk, she yet again made a statement which she knew Captain Wentworth, with his love for steadfastness, would appreciate. And yet again, she was met with a most overwhelmingly positive speech.
"My first wish for all, whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm. If Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life, she will cherish all her present powers of mind."
And thus, Louisa decided, she had to become resolute at everything she put her mind to, if she wanted a husband.
Not that she was one to dwell on the pro's and con's a lot. It was already in her disposition to be wilful, it wasn't too much of an change to proclaim to want to do things with passion, and doing them shortly after.
After almost a season of being acquainted, Captain Wentworth had yet to propose.
Her family was growing more anxious each day.
She could almost feel them breathing down in her neck. Whenever she entered a room with him, her mama or papa lifted an eyebrow.
Each day before bedtime, her mother and sister asked her about the two of them.
She didn't know when it had happened, but at a certain point people had started expecting the two of them to get engaged.
And despite her constant encouragement, despite her efforts to say things which would please him… Nothing happened.
Louisa couldn't help but think about what could convince him to marry her. And God keep her soul, she felt tempted to stoop to levels which she knew were particularly low.
But time and time again, she convinced herself not to resort to desperate measures.
Until Lyme.
Until she saw Anne and Captain Benwick together, both seemingly having lost all hope of ever having someone special in their lives.
And at that moment, in between laughs and giggles during dinner, she thought about the children she had always envisioned herself to have. For an agonizing second she imaged never having them. Henrietta nudged her and she quickly smiled again, expressing her abundance of appreciation of the food.
The next day, she resorted to measures quite low indeed. As they were walking on the Cob, an idea took possession of her. She remembered back when she would jump from the bottom stairs at home and how Charles caught her and spun her around. It had been such fun.
And if Frederick was now there to catch her, so be it. Maybe, if he held her, he would realise he wanted to hold on to her.
And so she jumped. And he caught her. It was enough to erupt a giggle. They were so close now. And his hands on her midriff had been so pleasantly warm for that one fleeting second. They were so close they could have kissed.
She pulled herself away, and climbed a stair higher. Maybe he would realise his desire if he held her again. Maybe he would think about kissing her as well. He kept helping her, jumping from stile to stile.
"Be careful Louisa, the ground is quite hard on your feet if you jump from an even higher stile."
"I'll be quite alright, Captain Wentworth."
The wind blew her hair in her face. She could barely discern the party standing on the lower level. Just one higher, she promised herself, then she would be satisfied. She had already been high enough to feel butterflies when she jumped, the only reason she wanted to get one higher, was so Captain Wentworth had to make more of an effort to catch her.
If he didn't realise his feelings for her after having held her five times, Louisa gave up. She could hardly be blamed for a lack of trying.
Captain Wentworth said something, but because of the strong winds she could barely catch a word of it. Probably some feeble sort of advice not to jump. Was this a test for her? Was he testing her qualities in the same way she was testing his attraction to her?
"I am determined I will!" Louisa laughed.
After all, what was the worst that could happen? She fell and hit her head? No, she was not that clumsy. She could make it on her own. The risk wasn't that high. The ladies screamed as a wave broke against the cob. She could even taste some salty droplets on her lips. She tried brushing her hair away from her eyes but it was all in vain, the wind blew it straight back!
The captain would be ready for her, surely.
She jumped. Again, her breath caught in her throat as her stomach twisted in excitement.
.
.
.
.
.
She only had a split second to realise the hands that meant to catch her weren't where there before her boot touched the slippery wet tiles. Her foot slid away from under her and before she could yell- all light went out.
The first sensation Louisa experienced was a stabbing pain at the back of her head. Her hand slid towards her head.
"Oh thank God you are awake Louisa! We were so terribly afraid when you fell. We indeed thought you were dead for a couple of minutes. Especially me, to think I almost lost one of my sister-in-laws! To think Charles wanted to send me away- me- instead of Anne. Quite unimaginable!"
Louisa could barely endure Mary's shrill voice, yet she forced herself to absorb as much information as she possibly could.
'So Anne has gone?'
'Anne has gone. She and Captain Wentworth left to tell her parents what has happened. Henrietta went too.'
Her sister had left, Anne had left… Why had they left Mary here of all people?
'Mary, I appreciate your kindness so much- but I am afraid I cannot stand any sound.'
'I shall fetch the doctor and tell him you are awake. He's checked up on you every day so far. We'll see which assessment he makes now that you are awake.'
'Every day? How long have I been here? Where am I?' For these were not her sheets, nor the sheets of the bed of the inn she had stayed in.
'Two days.'
Mary left and Louisa was left alone to reflect.
Even though thinking hurt a great deal, she couldn't stop her mind from firing thought after thought.
The jump had gone wrong. And now she was left at Lyme and Captain Wentworth had gone away to tell her parents, which was a very important thing. She could only imagine how worried her mama must be. But now she and Captain Wentworth had definitely parted on a bad note.
She had wanted to please him with being wilful, but she had played herself!
Her desperate vying for his attention had almost cost her her life. She had ruined the entire trip with her behaviour. And all of that just to please a man. It was a cruel world indeed, that she almost had to kill herself to get a husband.
Was a husband really worth it? She thought again of Miss Anne. This would for sure never befall her. She was a great deal to smart to let silly courting get this far.
Enough of the games. If this was what one had to do to get a husband, Louisa wasn't quite sure if she was ready to get one.
The headache quickly became overpowering – and Louisa slipped away again.
When she woke up again, she managed to open her eyes. The room was dark. Only a single candle was burning close to where a man was seated. He was reading a book.
"Charles."
Her brother looked up, his eyes immediately going soft. He went to her bedside and held her hands, as he did when she was ill as a child.
"Oh Louisa, I'm so glad to see you awake."
The sound still hurt her ears, and with every slight movement she made, she felt the bile rise up in her throat.
"I'm sorry."
"Nobody blames you. You couldn't know what would happen. Yes, you could have been more careful – but that's just not you. You do everything with a great intensity and without a care."
"Do you think I should?"
"A bit of carefulness wouldn't harm you. But there is nothing wrong with some passion and spontaneity. Do you want something? Some water? Something to eat? You haven't eaten in days."
"I feel so horribly sick. I'm afraid that if I move, I will- "
"Ah yes, the doctor said there was a high chance of you feeling sick. It's alright Louisa. Better to move a bit and get some food- with being ill- than to go yet another day without moving or eating."
"Our parents, Charles, our parents. How they must worry!"
"Wentworth has given them an account on the day it happened. And I visited them this very noon. I didn't have much to say of course, your condition was still very much the same, but not worse. But I could tell them you had waken up and talked with Mary. I've sent for your old nursery maid, Miss Booth. Mrs. Harville has been a most kind caretaker, really, she has left nothing for me and Mary to do. But I do hope she will let your maid tend to you. I feel guilty already for all of the effort the Harville's have gone through. I can never repay them for their kindness."
"So many people's normal lives have been disrupted because of me. Oh Charles, I don't know how I will face them."
"Don't blame yourself. Focus on healing. You are by no means ready to leave the room, let alone speak to Captain Wentworth or any of the others."
"Captain Wentworth has returned?"
"Yes, poor man, he feels quite guilty. He fears he encouraged your adventurous side way too much, and blames himself for not having caught you."
"Oh no, he mustn't! Tell him he shouldn't feel guilty."
"It's as useless as telling you not to feel guilty."
"But it was I who decided to jump, not he."
It was not a glamorous affair. The next week and a half were spent inside her room, which she learned was Frances Harville's old room, with short intervals of sitting and walking between long periods of sleep.
Until one day, she managed to get dressed, albeit in a morning gown. It was the day Charles and Mary left, and Louisa desperately wanted to show them there was no reason for them to feel guilty about leaving her. Her face was as white as a sheet after not having seen the sun for two weeks, but with a good deal of pinching she managed to get some colour on her cheeks.
The first rays of sunlight were horrible, but she bore it. Two days earlier she still needed the curtains to be closed. Mary made plenty of fuss and Charles kept asking Louisa whether she'd be alright on her own – without any offense to the Harville's care, her parents, and her nursery maid, of course. Louisa smiled and nodded.
Her parents and Henrietta were there too. It was the first time she had been in the room with so many of them. The noises were too overpowering, the light too bright. The Harville's, the bachelor Captains, her family, Charles and Mary. It was headache-inducing.
And then there was Captain Benwick, taking a hold of her arm as she rose from the couch. Her vision was clouded with grey from rising too fast.
"Careful, please."
"I will be", she wished to say. But he had no reason to trust her. In the time she spent here before her fall, she had been everything but careful.
'Thank you', she decided to answer as he sat her down. She curled up on the couch as Charles and Mary took their leave. Louisa was a bit relieved to see a part of the crowd go. Even in her room, which was at the far end of the corridor upstairs, she could still hear the noise the large party produced. The house had never been intended to host so many visitors for such a long time, even if they slept at an inn.
Seeing their daughter withering away on the couch made her parents fuss about until she convinced them that she had overestimated herself, and admitted that a full room was still too overwhelming. Her parents, Henriette and Mrs. Harville took their leave with the children, at Louisa's insistence that she should be fine once it was a bit more quiet.
Captain Harville went back to his study to answer some letters. Captain Wentworth announced he would visit and update Kellynch-hall, but was going to return by supper.
The The Harville's were wonderful people, much more generous than they should be. But their life was not one of luxury, and as such, the hearth rarely burned during daytime. They had kept a fire burning in her room during her isolation, but they didn't downstairs. She had seen that they didn't burn fires before, but had never been bothered by the temperature before, but now that she was so frail, she did.
Her gaze slid towards the window. A gull glided past the window, and in the distance the sea seemed tranquil. How odd, it seemed! Within these walls, so much had happened; fear, sadness, illness. It had been a tumultuous time inside, yet the outside world was unperturbed. Maybe once she felt a bit stronger, she could try and paint it.
A sudden weight was placed on her lap. She tore her eyes away from the window. A lovely navy quilt covered her body. She allowed her index finger to stroke the soft material. Her gaze followed the slim legs and dark coat until she looked into a pair of dark blue eyes.
"Captain Benwick, thank you.'
"No problem."
She played with the edge of the quilt, pulling at it until it was snuggly placed around her shoulders. She warmed her fingers between the crevice of her knees.
Under normal circumstances she would be incredibly bored, but now even sitting upright and gazing through the window took an effort.
Not a single childhood illness had managed to keep her down for more than three days. Even if she was ill or feverish, she still roamed around the house to find things to amuse herself with. Was this the thing that would permanently take her energy away?
A child ran by the window.
Children.
If this awful illness didn't stop, she would never be able to run after a child. She would never be able to play with it. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.
She hadn't even been able to get herself a husband when she was healthy. If she remained like this, it wouldn't matter if she could ever get one, she wouldn't be able to be a good mother anyway.
"Do you wish to read something?"
"Excuse me?" she whispered hoarsely. Her voice appeared to be stuck in her throat.
Captain Benwick picked up on her melancholy, but out of his own experience he decided not to pressure her with questions. She barely managed to stand upright, whatever it was that troubled her could wait until she had physically healed.
"I asked whether you wished to read?"
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid I can't. Yesterday I tried to read, but all the words blurred on the page in front of me. I could read them if I focussed, but focussing gave me a headache. It appears the only stories I can enjoy are the ones in my head."
A thin elegant finger slipped from under the cover and touched her auburn hair twice, a frail smile appearing on her face.
It was strange to see her muted expressions. Her face had been so expressive previously. The activity and intensity that surrounded the Musgroves had intimidated him that first night, but now he wished the girl would recover at least some of her natural cheer.
"Would you wish me to read to you?"
Not that he had many cheerful books. Miss Elliot had not been wrong when she claimed that he surrounded himself with melancholy reads. But last week he'd added two books she had recommended to the shelves Captain Harville had made for him.
"You needn't trouble yourself, Captain."
"It is no trouble at all, Miss Louisa. Are there any authors you prefer?"
"Not really. I just pick up books from everywhere and anywhere. Sometimes I like them, sometimes I don't, no matter the topic. But I do believe I am incapable of following a long story right now. My attention span is not quite what it used to be."
She fell silent, a smile tugging at het full lips once more. "I lied. I've never been able to concentrate on a certain something for a long amount of time. I always need variation. I believe that is why it takes me such a long time to finish my paintings, books and embroidery."
Captain Benwick had to laugh as well.
"Poetry it is", he decided.
He took a book, with a title she forgot as soon as he pronounced it, and started reading to her. He had a pleasant deep voice. She didn't quite know where to look. Would it be rude to keep staring at him? Or would it be rude to look outside while he was reading to her? She settled on alternating between looking at the quilt on her legs and him.
'Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee—
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young!'
This had been their longest interaction as of date. He had always seemed to gravitate towards Anne. Whenever she overheard them, for she always skipped alongside Captain Wentworth but she did make sure she was aware of her environment, they seemed to talk about art; music, poetry, books. They had a similar taste, although Anne's seemed broader.
Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O! the joys, that came down shower-like,
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old!
Ere I was old? Ah woful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet,
'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit—
It cannot be that Thou art gone!
They were quite close in age. Perhaps, if she managed to drag him out of his mourning, they could be nice together. Another thing she may have ruined by hitting her head. She'd cut their conversations short by hitting her head, and now he was left with only a tasteless young girl to talk to.
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
Where no hope is, life's a warning
That only serves to make us grieve,
When we are old:
That only serves to make us grieve
With oft and tedious taking-leave,
Like some poor nigh-related guest,
That may not rudely be dismist;
Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while,
And tells the jest without the smile.
She didn't have the knowledge or the energy to analyse the poem with him. But respond she must, it was the least she could do to reward his effort.
"That was lovely."
He gave her a gentle smile, and turned a couple of pages looking for another poem.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea;
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder—everlastingly.
Dear child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
Louisa had to laugh at that.
"I shall not pretend to be a great romantic, but nature's beauty does touch me." She glanced outside. "I've missed watching the sunset", she sighed. Again Captain Benwick remained silent.
The then started another poem, about an old cursed mariner and a wedding guest. And though she was interested – she was! – she eventually slipped away into a peaceful slumber.
And when Mrs. Harville arrived and noticed the Musgrove girl being covered in the quilt Frances had made for James before he left, she didn't mention it.
The next day Louisa and Mrs. Harville were left as the men went fishing and her mama to Mrs. Harville's children out again. Her parents were eager to notice each improvement, but it was going too slow and she knew it. They never mentioned it, but she knew they needed to return for the holidays, and she knew that they wanted to take her with them. Mrs. Harville took a basket with damaged clothes to Louisa's room, and set about sewing the holes as she held Louisa company.
Louisa offered to help her repair some socks, and as the two of them repaired the clothes, Mrs. Harville talked of town gossip. It was just some small talk, but Louisa appreciated it. She was still too tired to have a meaningful conversation anyways.
The men came back and Mrs. Harville left to prepare dinner. Louisa took a seat near the window. It was the first time she'd managed to stay up until sundown.
A knock on the door perturbed the silent moment.
"Enter."
The door creaked as it opened. Captain Benwick was glancing around the room, seemingly frozen on the spot.
"How may I be of assistance, captain?" Louisa asked as she slowly got up.
"It appears all of my shirts are dirty. Mrs Musgrove told me she had just finished fixing mine, she said she may have left them in… your room."
Her room. Now she realised why he was so uncomfortable. This was her room, the room of his fiancée. He had probably never entered it as long as she lived. Now here he was, standing where she might have stood a couple of years ago.
She glanced around the room, spotting them on her bed and reaching it at the same time as him. They stood awkwardly for a couple of seconds. Every time she reached for it, he pulled his hands back, and every time he reached for them, she pulled back. In the end she just laughed to break the tentative silence.
"Here you go", she said as she finally took them. "We can't have you running around without a shirt, can we?"
The blush, which had previously been from the cold autumn wind, was now replaced by a more hormonal blush.
"I thank you." He walked away again, but remained by the door opening, just like she lingered near the bed.
"Your brother asked me whether I wanted to go home with them for a couple of days. Your sister's fiancé offered to teach me how to shoot."
"Oh. And will you?" It would be so odd, for him to see where she lived, and walk those grounds before she herself returned. How would he find it, Louisa wondered. She imagined him and Charles and Charles lurking through the bushes, looking for a pigeon to shoot.
"I haven't quite decided yet. I've never done it before, so it certainly sounds appealing. But I haven't left Lyme since, well… last summer. I was intended to go with them today- but I delayed it this morning. I shall send him a letter once I have decided. He certainly made it sound like an appealing environment to visit."
"It is- I always loved being home. And maybe a change of environment could do you some good, perhaps?" Though she would miss the most quiet person in the house. He seemed to pick up on her moods and ailments quicker than even her mother.
"Perhaps. Enjoy your sunset."
Louisa threw him a smile before he closed the door. Yes, the sunset. But the deep thoughts she had while watching the sky change colour had little to do with a fascination for nature, and more with a certain son of Adam.
It was the first day Louisa managed to survive past sunset and also the first day on which she consumed three full meals. The last two weeks had taken its toll on her body. The lack of nourishment had taken away many of her curves and the plumpness of youth in her face, but most importantly it had taken away her energy. She prayed she could get her energy levels back up again before the week was done so she could go back home.
Captain Wentworth had returned in time, and after inquiring after her – as he did each day with a certain impatience, as if waiting for her to be recovered – and discussed his plans of going to Plymouth again, as he had talked about for a couple of days now. Once more, he tried to persuade Captain Benwick to go with him, only for a day or ten. Captain Benwick admitted to being more disposed to go visit Kellynch, but not being sure of any plan. After dinner her parents and Henrietta retired to their lodgings and the Harville's and Captain Wentworth engaged themselves with a game of cards. Louisa contented herself with looking at their game, but Captain Benwick seemed determined to entertain their guest.
"Miss Louisa."
"Captain."
"How are you faring today?"
"You needn't feel obliged to entertain me. You're already doing so much for someone you've barely known a month. I feel way too spoiled."
"As long as you're here, miss Louisa, you are our guest. If you don't wish for conversation, I will allow you your peace, but I don't wish to be unkind to our guests."
"The only thing I wish for, is to get better."
"And are you not getting better?"
"The doctor came by this morning, and he said he was glad with the improvement I had already made. He expected me to recover slower, because of the amount of days I have been unconscious. But it's already slow enough if you ask me."
"Ah, this is the impatience you spoke of yesterday."
Louisa smiled. "It is, I'm afraid even hitting my head can't alter me that much. I'm sorry I fell asleep yesterday. Please rest assured that I wasn't bored by your poem at all! It is only that-"
"I know you are still recovering. No offence was taken."
"Could you continue it?"
He merely asked for the last thing she could remember before starting the poem once again. They managed to finish the poem this time, but after the third one she fell asleep yet again.
It felt oddly intimate to watch her sleep. A man wasn't meant to see a woman sleeping before he was wed. He had never seen Fanny sleep. Maybe it was simply because he had encountered so little women that his mind immediately tried to compare the two women. But the women were not the same. Fanny had had brown eyes, while Miss Louisa had blue ones, yet both had golden hair. Fanny had never curled hers, never felt the need for all the fuss. Louisa's hair seemed to be naturally straight as well, now that she hadn't curled it in days.
But Fanny had been a shy girl when he was introduced to her by Captain Harville. She hadn't read much, nor could she paint, sing or embroider. But she could sew and make a fine meal. She could play cards and walk for miles. She didn't need many stimuli like Louisa, she seemed happy to simply be. And to James, that had been enough.
How funny it was, that her death had altered him to the point where he had become incompatible with his previous fiancée. She, who barely read. She, who barely contemplated life. She, who despite being shy, wouldn't look at the recluse he had become twice, considering him too smart. She had teased him before with his scholarly interests, but now he had become a true bookworm.
But this girl though, this girl was not his equal either. She was very different indeed, both to Fanny and to him.
He picked her up and carried her upstairs. He had thought it would hurt more than it did, when he first entered Fanny's old room. Yet the wound on his heart barely bled. Nothing in the room reminded him of her in particular.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
Such misery and agony, how did he manage to make a topic so sombre sound so alluring? The last week she had quite often found herself in Captain Benwick's presence. As her headache lessened each day, her mind started getting more active.
It went quickly from her supposed courtship to captain Wentworth, to Captain Benwick, to worry about her mama, and critique for her past behaviour.
Now that no one was pressuring her into any courtship, she took her time to evaluate Captain Wentworth. And though she still considered him one of the kindest and most liked people she ever met, she found herself preferring Captain Benwick's dark look to Captain Benwick's Adonis-like golden aura. Captain Benwick's baritone voice was much more pleasant than Captain Wentworth's clear authoritative voice.
And though Captain Benwick didn't have Captain Wentworth's charisma or openness, she felt much more at ease with him. With Captain Wentworth she had always felt on edge. His likes and dislikes were strong, his good opinion once lost, was lost forever. She never once felt the need to adapt her answers or behaviour to please Captain Benwick. Partially because she knew it was a lost fight, he had known her to be a certain way, and though illness had changed her, he probably expected her to go back to the headstrong energetic girl she was. But partially because Captain Benwick wasn't as judgemental.
"Oh are you reading that?"
"You know it?"
"I do, Anne recommended it to me when she learned it wasn't on my reading list at school."
"And how did you find it?"
"Though I understand the style figure and despite understanding the references and allusions he makes, I find it to be quite artificial."
"You have a distaste for that."
"I do. I appreciate it. I appreciate and understand it, I just don't like it. What do you think?"
"I enjoy it, but it will never be amongst my favourites. I assume some would call this an 'acquired taste'."
"That seems like a delicate way to call something pretentious", Louisa laughed. Seeing the glimmer in her eyes, Captain Benwick knew she was recovering.
"Shall we go for a walk?"
Louisa fell silent, glancing outside. The weather looked lovely. There wasn't a cloud to be seen and the sky was a crisp blue colour.
"I haven't been outside in weeks."
"Do you think you can do it?"
She had been walking through the house and rising from chairs without becoming dizzy the past week.
"I don't know. But I hope so."
"Do you want to go outside?"
"I do."
"I'll grab your coat."
She had worn her large warm coat, a bonnet, gloves and a warm shawl. He'd walked with her along the haven, enough for her to see some incoming ships and get a breath of fresh air. They were back in half an hour and she hadn't stopped smiling during the entire walk.
But the next day, she didn't leave her bedroom. He suspected something was awry when she didn't come down for breakfast. But it was only at ten o'clock that he felt he was allowed to ask how she was faring.
"The poor dear told me she was too tired to get up. I'm afraid she wasn't ready to go for a walk yesterday. Did you walk a lot?"
"Just to the harbour and back."
"You shouldn't have pushed her to exhaust herself this much", Wentworth commented.
"I've done enough damage as is. We needn't prolong her suffering."
"Come now, Frederick, he meant no harm. Don't be so hard on James. I know you're tense and I know you feel partially responsible to watch over her as she heals, but there is no need to take it out on James", Mrs. Harville chided. Captain Wentworth sighed.
"I apologize, this situation seems to bring about the worst in me."
Captain Benwick wondered why his friend was so set on Miss Louisa's healing. The two of them had seemed very close prior to her accident, but now his friend seemed to be caught in a split, torn between wanting to have as little to do with her as possible and feeling obliged to stay. For sure, knowing how active and engaging Miss Louisa had been before and seeing how she was now because of her accident might be confronting for him. But she tried her very best to be kind and seemed determined to heal. Yet he seemed to struggle to even look at her. Was it only because of his guilt, or had he so suddenly changed his opinion about her? Everyone seemed to expect the two of them to marry, yet looking at their interactions they seemed more like strangers, bound by sharing the same roof. All intimacy and friendship seemed lost. He had wondered about it for some time now, but decided to confront his friend before the night was over.
Mrs. Harville sighed as she finished washing the dishes. "She's very intent on healing. But the more she pushes herself to do things she isn't yet able to, the longer it will take."
"She's getting significantly better though." Mrs. Harville nodded and smiled at him.
"Aye, she is."
"But not enough to take her home. We shall have to leave soon to pick up the other children from school", Mrs. Musgrove sighed.
Feeling guilty about having asked her to walk in the first place, Captain Benwick climbed upstairs at two o'clock.
"Come in."
She was sitting in a chair with her knees drawn up to her chest and a blanket pulled over her.
"Captain Benwick!"
She didn't look too bad. Her hair was done and her face was a healthy pink – neither too white nor too feverish.
"I've come to offer my apologies. I shouldn't have taken you out yesterday."
"I'm glad you did. I so missed being outside. It's just a pity that my body doesn't cooperate. Have you come to read to me again?"
"Should you wish it."
She patted the chair next to her.
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant
Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air
Of absence withers what was once so fair?
Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?
Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilant—
Bound to thy service with unceasing care,
The mind's least generous wish a mendicant
For nought but what thy happiness could spare.
Speak— though this soft warm heart, once free to hold
A thousand tender pleasures, thine and mine,
Be left more desolate, more dreary cold
Than a forsaken bird's-nest filled with snow
'Mid its own bush of leafless eglantine—
Speak, that my torturing doubts their end may know.
Each poem seemed more personal than the last.
And slowly, the melancholy of the poems seemed to make place for agitation, energy and happiness.
It was a slow transition, almost as painstakingly slow as her healing process.
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
"I love poems about nature and I love poems about love, yet I wonder if Keats will ever be able to write a poem without making it about love in the end."
"I agree, he is quite a passionate creature", Captain Benwick laughed.
Louisa's nursemaid came in, and insisted that it was time for her to rest.
Captain Benwick went downstairs again. Captain Wentworth was still there, writing a letter. Otherwise the room was abandoned. The blond man looked up to him and gave him a smile.
"Tell me, my friend, what is this thing between you and Miss Louisa? I got the impression the two of you seemed to get along very well. Yet now you barely talk. Is it because of the accident?"
"I feared for this. James, as my friend I shall tell you my story. I know I am the villain of it, but I beg of you to listen and advise me anyways."
"Who am I to let a friend fall? Frederick, we all make mistakes, yet I do not see how you can have done something villainous."
"You know that when I returned, I decided to find a wife. I made this desire very clear. I so happened on meeting the Musgroves, and they so happened to have two single daughters. I entertained their company for some months and yes, the oldest Miss Musgrove and I got along greatly. But somewhere during my stay at Kellynch, people had started to interpret our friendship as something it was not. I admit, I should have been more on guard. Looking back, I know how it looked. I certainly preferred miss Louisa's company and I did single her out. I commended her personality traits. I did everything a suitor did. Except for the fact that I didn't deliberately choose her."
He struggled to find the next words, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"Do you remember when I told you how my heart had been broken right before we left off in the year eight? How a girl broke of the engagement because of the advice of her friend?"
He did, his friend had been in low spirits for months. It took an entire year before his real personality and cheer became visible.
"The girl was Anne. And in some childish attempt at revenge I wanted to hurt her as badly as she hurt me. I set out to show her how charming I could be with other girls. How easy it was for me to be the ideal suitor, and with a fortune! The very reason why she had refused me. But now I returned as an ideal and worthy suitor for any young woman."
"This sounds nothing like you." His friend was spirited indeed. Emotional and impulsive, but not cruel. Everyone knew that he didn't believe in second changes, forgiving was an ability he had yet to learn. But courting another girl just to hurt another was a vile thing. Not only had he given Miss Louisa and the Musgroves a wrong impression, he had done it to lay injury to Miss Anne. It was true, he had only known her for a couple of days, but it was enough to know that she was no stranger to heartache, her preferences in literature revealed that she had both suffered and set out to overcome said suffering. She seemed too gentle a creature to cruelly toss a lover aside without good reason. The hardships she would have endured the past few months, looking at someone she once loved giving attention to all but her. In just a few days, he had toyed with the idea of marrying her, if only because she seemed like such proper material for a wife, and their tastes were so similar after all.
"And yet I did it. And now I find myself guilty of almost costing that girl her life, while I am expected to marry her! I cannot turn away now, yet I can never envision myself marrying her. I so desperately wanted to fall in love again, to replace the bitterness in my heart with a new sweetness, only to find myself falling deeper in love with her! I do not know what to do. Duty binds me to Miss Louisa. I cannot forsake her now, can I? I can only hope that she sends me away, lest I become some devil in the eyes of society. I am ensnared, James, and I don't know how to escape."
"So, to summarise. You were in love with Anne. You went to Kellynch. You hoped to find a new wife. Instead you encountered Anne again and instead tried to break the heart of your former lover. And in doing so, you became fixated with her again- falling in love again – but your methods have now bound you to the poor creature that is now residing upstairs."
"Basically. God, it sounds so awful."
"I do not think anyone shall think ill of you should you leave for a couple of days. You have fulfilled your obligations. You ensured her safety, you briefed her family, and you remained nearby for two weeks. She is obviously healing now, you would not be forsaking her if you went away for a couple of weeks. I thing she would even like it. She seems so overwhelmed by the amount of people present here each day. Not to accuse you of anything, but your voice is quite loud as well. However, you are right about one thing. Everyone seems to think that the two of you were at the brink of a proposal. You cannot court another woman, or they shall think you have lead Miss Louisa on. You must wait until she is better and then you can change the connection both of you had and push it into the direction of a friendship or acquaintance. You can only hope she isn't in love with you. There is still a chance that she simply enjoyed your company as well, and that all expectations are just down to her being single and you being on the lookout for a bride."
"I feared so."
"As a friend, you can lean on my shoulder, but I still morally judge your actions. I am disappointed."
Captain Wentworth nodded gravely.
"I disappointed myself as well."
Within a day Louisa was back to walking around the house. Her mother let the doctor come, whe assessed that she was not yet ready for travel. The mother and daughter cried as they had to accept that they were to be apart during the holidays. Louisa wrote letters to her siblings, and gave them to her mother so they could be given to them at Christmas. Mrs. Musgrove offered to take the youn Harville's with her, and the Harville's consented to their children being away for the holidays. The house had become quite small, and they hoped their guest would heal faster if the children weren't around. Henrietta, feeling sorry for her sister, decided to stay. And thus the heartache was compensated a little. The two sisters sat at a desk, writing letters for their siblings together. Henrietta made a couple of sketches for the children, and Louisa made a couple of simple water paintings of the gulls and the shore. Their parents left the next morning, as did Captain Wentworth, who set out to see his brother in Shropshire, possibly the best place to go to. Everyone understood that he wanted to be with his family during the holidays, though he hoped that the distance would put some emotional distance between Louisa and Frederick. Louisa didn't seem to mind that he left though.
After three more days, it was she who asked Captain Benwick to take her on a walk. He was more hesitant this time, but she had more strength to her now, and managed to convince him with energetic pleading. She still felt a little fear as she crossed the threshold, thinking of her fall on the Cobb and praying her stubbornness wouldn't cost her again.
It didn't. Louisa woke up the next morning feeling just as well as the previous day, nevertheless Captain Benwick couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she came down for breakfast.
The doctor paid them another visit, and now he exclaimed she was almost ready for travel. After he left, Louisa immediately wrote to her mother to share the news. She hoped she could still spend some days with her little siblings before they were sent off to school again. And though Captain Benwick was glad- delighted even, that the girl felt better, he couldn't help but feel a certain sadness knowing the day of her departure was getting closer.
It had been about two months, and just like Captain Benwick had gone from a good friend to a family member, het felt as if Louisa had started that transition as well.
It had been subtle, after all, she had never planned to stay for so long, but she had slowly become a part of the household.
Between her, her nursery maid and Mrs. Harville, all clothes in need of mending had been mended, a pile Mrs. Harville had never finished on her own. Once her dizziness had disappeared, she'd helped with the dishes and washing the clothes.
She had never stopped asking him to read to her though, despite that she had read on her own without complaining about headaches. And he, on his part, had never stopped offering.
She came downstairs with her hair curled and done up in more time-consuming hairdo's the past two days, and her confidence seemed to increase as more effort was put in her dress. She looked like her former self, albeit a bit thinner. At Christmas, she and Henrietta had dolled up particularly well. The blush on her cheeks complimented the warm red of her dress. She had managed to sit up throughout all the courses, and managed to partake in conversation the entirety of the evening. Her laughter, though soft, was beginning to sound like music to his ears.
But the next day Louisa paid for her merry night, and remained in her room the entirety of the day, and a part of the next one as well. She wasn't going to make it, and as she realised this, she encouraged Henrietta to go home, so that she could at least spend some days with their siblings. It was a tearful parting, and Louisa gave many letters to Henrietta. She asked her sister to apologise for her writing, which was still a bit uneven because of her illness. Henrietta just embraced her until the carriage arrived.
Mr. and Mrs. Harville had left to wish a happy New Year to a couple of friends in town. Louisa and Captain Benwick remained behind. As Louisa was laying on the ground in the living room, petting the cat, and he was reading a book, he realised how he could get used to this.
She looked up from the grey tabby, smiling up at him.
The warm red rays of the burning fire gave her hair a magnificent red glow. She looked so happy and at ease, what a contrast to how awkward and withdrawn she had been when she had first come downstairs after her fall. Yet she had not become the loud exuberant girl she had been before. She didn't seem to feel the need to gush over everything or give long passionate rants. Nor did she seem to grow bored of the limited amusement provided to her within the house, despite claiming she grew bored quickly. He wondered if it was a permanent change.
"Tell me poem. It'll be one of the last ones I can hear."
"Only if you tell me why you want me to read to you, despite that you're able to read now."
His heart was beating fast. He felt as if he was asking questions he shouldn't be asking.
"Depends on how nice the poem is." Louisa seemed quite breathless.
"No pressure, of course."
"None at all", she agreed with a small smile.
He walked towards his planks, letting his fingers brush past a couple of books while maintaining eye contact. She quirked a daring eyebrow.
He smiled, selecting a volume.
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow–
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
They name thee before me,
A knell in mine ear;
A shudder come o'er me–
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well–
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met–
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?–
With silence and tears.
The silence was deafening. And Captain Benwick realised with ever growing dread, that he had crossed the line.
"I enjoy listening to your voice", she said right when he opened his mouth to apologise.
Another long silence filled the room. The cat, which had crawled on top of her chest, now walked away. She slowly came upright.
"Funny, isn't it. If it hadn't been for my stupidity, we might have never shared more than five words", she laughed. "And now, we can almost consider ourselves friends, can we not, Captain Benwick?"
"We can."
"it seems so silly though, we've only known each other for three months."
It only seemed like yesterday when he had first seen her bright face on that sunny autumn day. She had intimidated him at first, although he had immediately decided she was one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. And now here they were, halfway through the month of January. They had not spent a single day without conversing ever since she first came downstairs. Yet at the same time, it felt like they had known one another for an eternity!
In a normal setting, he was certain that she wouldn't have looked at him twice. And he was certain that, when she returned, she would quickly find other suitors. Captain Wentworth hadn't returned since the end of December, and Louisa hadn't mentioned him once. His friend appeared to be lucky after all, she didn't seem to care about him either. They would both get out of their acquaintance with their hearts and reputations intact.
But the same couldn't be said for Captain Benwick, who realized a couple weeks ago, that despite his adamant insistence that he would forever mourn his dearly departed Fanny, he had fallen in love again.
He'd cursed himself for it. For his affection for Fanny had been true. He shouldn't be falling for another, within less than two years even! Yet when he tried to convince himself that it was just the proximity which had made his heart fond of Louisa, his body immediately betrayed him. His heart jumped whenever he saw her and whenever she laughed, he felt himself smiling. And when she expressed her opinion, he couldn't help but love the way in which she did it. And when she jested, he felt himself become more cheerful as well. It was as if his moods were connected to hers.
He fought it, oh how he fought! Yet he felt bound to her like a slave. He now understood Captain Wentworth, for he too had tried to distance himself from her by disappearing for most of the day, but like a moth drawn to light, he always returned to her in the evening. Resisting the pull only made him feel more passionate about her, and it was in this instance that he knew that should seven years go by without him seeing her, he would still fall for her the second he laid eyes on her. Wentworth had been a lost man, no amount of time could have protected his heart from Anne Elliot.
"I mean, that's barely anything. However, we shall not stop our acquaintance once I return home, will we, Captain Benwick? It would be strange to go from being so close on a daily basis, to not hearing from each other again. Would it not? Of course, you have many other things to do, heavens, you could be called back to fight in another war! It is probably only a matter of time before the next madmen takes over a certain country."
She was standing with her face turned to the fire now, her slim silhouette emphasized by the flames.
"We will write, should you wish it."
"Should I wish it? Do you not wish it then? Captain Benwick?"
He hadn't realised he'd brought himself up to a standing position. She looked over her shoulder, staring at him with uncertain eyes.
"I wish it. It's just something that should be mutual."
She turned her body towards him.
"It is mutual."
He didn't know who initiated it, only that suddenly her warm lips were pressed against his and that his arms were wrapped around her body.
"As is this?" He couldn't help but ask.
"As is this."
She used the freedom of being alone in the house with him to nestle herself between his arms as he read. And he allowed himself to run his fingers to the curls that had been tempting him for weeks.
The next week was composed of secret glances and stolen kisses while Captain Benwick passed a letter to Captain Harville to be given to Louisa's father.
And while waiting for the response to come back positive, Captain Benwick felt forced to have what would no doubt be the most awkward conversation between himself and Captain Harville ever.
Because how do you tell a friend, and the brother of your deceased fiancée, that while living under their roof, you have fallen in love with another no two years after her death?
Captain Harville didn't quite know how to respond. He certainly hadn't processed the death of his sister yet, he couldn't quite imagine how the younger Captain could have moved on and fallen in love with another. But on the other hand he certainly doted on Louisa, she was without a doubt one of the sweetest girls he had ever met, and quite the catch.
Yet it felt as if Benwick had betrayed the memory of his sister. With this announcement he had also announced the end of their living arrangement which had been so comfortable for the past year and a half, his status as unofficial brother-in-law had also come to an end and with his new fiancée- his period of mourning had come to end, while the Harville's would continue theirs.
But it quickly had become clear that Benwick had not forgotten Fanny, nor could he ever forget her.
"Never could someone else be Fanny, nor take her place. Yes, Louisa is my new fiancée, but that does not mean that Fanny is dead to me. I love Louisa, but my love for Fanny will forever be intact in my past. If I were a river, Fanny has bent my way with many a rock. And my river will forever flow differently because of her. Fanny has brought me to today. Louisa will change my course as well, but she will never take away the changes and emotions Fanny brought forth, except my melancholy, which she has taken away. But it is not because I do not feel melancholy, that the melancholy has been erased from my past. This past year will forever be a sad and dark year to me, my friend. And without your love and friendship, I don't know what would have become of me."
And it did make Captain Harville understand, at least, where Captain Benwick came from.
Louisa spent another couple of days with them, and the happiness of the young couple was almost contagious. Louisa still wasn't the way she was when she first arrived, but she was well enough, and that was all that mattered.
The carriage came for Louisa and the Harvilles on Tuesday. Captain Benwick insisted on remaining behind until he had gotten confirmation from Louisa's father. By the time she arrived home, her father had already sent out his reply, and welcomed his newly engaged daughter with open arms. It was a joyful reunion. And despite Captain Benwick not knowing his proposal had been accepted by her father, she couldn't wait to share the news when Mary and Charles came to visit them.
Captain Benwick arrived the next day, and confided in her he had sent word to Captain Wentworth, and it was the first time she had thought of him in a month. And suddenly she worried, for they had been quite close before, so close people suspected they were about to be engaged. But Captain Benwick comforted her that he would be delighted with the news, and wouldn't see him as a rival in love.
And before they could even pinpoint a date for their wedding, news came back that Anne Elliot and Captain Frederick Wentworth were engaged to be married.
Louisa was as confused as could be, but Captain Benwick couldn't be happier that both he and his dear friend found happiness so soon after all seemed lost.