You know when I said this was almost finished…yeah, I told a little white lie. I have the last twoish chapters finished (debating on an epilogue) and now my muse is threatening to move on with yet another story! Thank god Uni is over except exams, or I'd never cope.
A Forgotten One - My sentiments exactly, however, I am terrible at titles so if you (or anyone else) has any suggestions I would love to hear them as I am not beyond changing it.
When the knock sounded at the door he feigned sleep.
The door opened quietly and a voice called his name, but he did not answer. Satisfied that he really was asleep, the servant entered the room and took his breakfast tray away. As they closed the door gently behind them, Frederick's eyes snapped open and he threw the covers off. He emerged from the bed fully dressed and ready to depart on his mission.
It had been a week since he had had his accident, and a week since he had woke but they where still treating him as though he might fall apart at any moment. He was sick of spending his days cooped up in his room, in his bed - for they hardly let him leave it - and decided that if they where not going to allow him to go outside, then he would do it himself.
It had not taken that much planning. His clothes where still hanging up in the cupboard and others in the chest of doors. After his breakfast that morning he had gone to great efforts to show his brother that he was still tired and had said to Edward when he left, that he might take a nap.
He dressed quickly after his brother left and settled himself back under the covers of his bed to await whoever entered the room again.
The servant would let his sister know that he was asleep and hopefully no one would check his room again until just before lunch. He had yet to decide whether he would be back by then or not. But first he had to make it down the stairs and out without getting caught.
Before leaving the room he stuffed several pillows under the covers and attempted to arrange them into a shape mimicking a body. Looking at his work he did not think it would fool anyone close up, but over by the door it looked passable. Especially to a servant. Should either of his siblings call then the alarm would be raised in no time at all.
Moving quietly down a staircase at the far end of the corridor he felt his eyes drawn to a portrait that hung halfway down the wall. A mother with her young family of three daughters, sat in motionless poise. He stood for several moments examining the picture and its subjects, the eyes of the woman captivating him and suggesting to him that they might be acquainted.
It was entirely possible, he thought. He did not have that inkling though, the one he got when the servants moved about the room, where he knew he must know them, having stayed at his sisters for several months now but could not name them or even remember seeing them before.
Checking that he was still alone in that part of the house he pondered on the picture a while more, and the more he looked, the more he believed that the artist that been able to capture his subjects in character. The eldest girl stood slightly away from her mother, and she was examining a sheet of drawing paper on the table with such an air that Frederick decided that it must be one of her own and she had taken to admire it.
The youngest child was perhaps no more than eight or nine and half stood, half leant on her mothers lap as though she was of wont to be included but too impatient to stand about and let it be done. He imagined there had been a lot of tempting that had been done to keep her there, possibly the promise of a new ribbon or bonnet.
The middle daughter stood at the back of her mothers chair, a hand resting delicately on the woman's shoulder in a token of warmth and comfort. In her other hand, draped loosely at her side, she held a small book. She looked relaxed and he imagined she was the calmest of the three; not quick to temper nor sulk. She was almost the most like her mother, though not as beautiful.
A noise from down the hall startled him and he continued down the stair. He crept past the entrance to the kitchens and out of the back door.
Freedom was his.
*****
Anne had gone for a walk after breakfast hoping that the walk would allow her to think things through fully. It had been a week since he had woken and yet he still did not remember. While she continued to remain optimistic that he would get better, each day that went by without him regaining anything, was a blow and she felt it keenly.
The walk around the garden cleared her mind and she found herself walking a well known path which took her to a wooden bench set beneath a wealth of trailing flowers, each having made their way up and along a cane trellis.
She sat there for a long time, lost in the sights and smells around her. It was not until he was almost upon her that she noticed his presence.
"Captain Wentworth," she said in greeting. As much as she would enjoy conversing with him, she was wary and she was quite glad she was already seated for fear that her legs might give way. She did not know how this meeting was going to turn out.
He smiled, a full smile that lightened his face up and made his eyes sparkle. "I see we are at a disadvantage ma'am, for you know who I am, but I do not know who you are and I apologise if we have met before, I am having a few problems with my memory at the moment."
He was so carefree and genuine that she could not help but responding in like and she smiled for the first time in days. It seemed as though he had forgotten their meeting just after his awakening the night of his accident.
"I am aware of that Captain," she said to him before holding out her hand, which he took, gently grasping at her fingers. "My name is Anne Elliot."
He frowned for a second as he bowed over her hand, and she held her breath that her name might awaken something in him. "Elliot?" he repeated. She nodded. "Is that not the name of the family whom my sister and the Admiral are renting Kellynch from?"
She let out a small sigh of disappointment. "It is sir."
"And you are staying here?"
"For now."
He did not let her hand go as he took a seat beside her, and only noticed when she gave it a little tug. "Sorry," he said, letting her go. "Are you my sisters guest then? That can not be easy for you," he said to her when she nodded in response.
His expression changed suddenly, and she was about to suggest they return in doors when he spoke. "You aren't my brothers wife, are you?" he question.
"No," she said, "I know your brother, but I am not his wife."
"Thank god for that," he said, before catching her expression and blushing, "Begging your pardon ma'am, but I would have been mighty surprised had you said yes. You are not my brothers type."
Anne felt the burn on her cheeks, but a slight delight when he also had to turn away as well, his cheeks equally as stained. They where silent together for some time till he stood suddenly and bounced upon his feet in front of her.
"So what say you ma'am?" he said, his expression nothing but felicity and mischief. "Shall we risk disapproval by carrying on without being formally introduced to one another?"
"I do not think anyone will mind." Anne told him as she accepted his outstretched hand and allowed him to help her to her feet.
"Are we already acquainted then?"
"We are," she affirmed. She laid her hand delicately on his arm and they set off around the lawns and gardens. The spring flowers where in bloom and created a lovely, scent induced scene. She might have enjoyed it more had Frederick been his usually self. She frowned at her own thoughts, he was his usual self, he just did not have all his faculties about him.
"You will excuse me, Miss Elliot, if I ask you about more than just the weather and how you find this flower and that, for I am determined to regain my full thought process and the memories that come with it. I hope you shall be able to help me."
"In any way I can, Captain." The surgeon had continued to call almost daily to chart Fredericks progress and to speak with them. He had schooled them on what, and how they could answer if he asked them a specific question, and she felt confident that she would be able to hold a conversation with him without shocking him in the process.
*****
Edward had been enjoying some mid morning tea with his sister and her husband, and thinking about when he might get back to his, when he had walked to the window and spotted them out together.
"You said Frederick was sleeping, Sophy?" he asked, raising his cup to his lips and attempting to reign in a smirk.
"Yes. You said yourself that he was fatigued this morning. I thought it best to let him rest"
"Some fatigue," Edward muttered.
"What did you say Edward?" Sophia asked, coming to stand by him as he placed his cup down on the table.
"I said, I do not think he is that tired," and he pointed out of the window and to the two figures that where walking around the garden, arm in arm.