Discussions
Anne rose early the next morning. She had turned the events of the evening over in her mind until far later than she would have liked, and sleep was not forthcoming. Still, the day dawned brightly and that alone was enough to cheer her, and chase away any lingering low spirits. The evening could hardly have been termed a runaway success, yet it had not quite been a disaster, and nobody had spoken too widely out of turn. Lady Russell was provoking, but to what end, Anne did not know.
Perhaps it wasn't even intentional, she thought, as she dressed. She dearly longed to be charitable towards her friend and not immediately think the worst, though Frederick seemed firmly convinced that Lady Russell existed only to torment him.
Their journey home in the Crofts' carriage had been quiet, with much of the conversation carried by the Admiral and his wife, and all commentary restricted to safe topics such as Louisa Musgrove's upcoming nuptials. Indeed, Anne was surprised at how quickly the Musgroves had acquiesced to the marriage between their daughter and Captain Benwick. But even their discourse on that topic had been circumspect. Anne's memory darted back to the conversation she had overheard between Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Musgrove just a few short days ago - was it really so recently? - when the former had shared her assertion that young couples ought not to wait on fortune or success before they marry. Mrs. Musgrove had been vehement. There is nothing I so abominate for young people as a long engagement… Anne had felt its application to her at the time, and yet it had been that conversation in part which had spurred Frederick to write the letter she still cherished above all others. She reached for the Bible that resided by her bedside and carefully lifted the folded sheet from beneath its cover, smoothing it out gently and allowing her eyes to trace the words she had already committed to memory.
I can listen no longer in silence…I offer myself again to you with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago…I have loved none but you… She ran a fingertip over these words as if by doing so she would somehow touch their author. I have loved none but you. "No more have I!" she whispered. Let Lady Russell conspire - if indeed she was. Let her family disapprove, or fail to understand the love she and Frederick shared. It no longer mattered to her, would not keep her from pledging to spend the rest of her life by his side.
Folding the letter back up, she slipped it inside her reticule, feeling she would need its support today, a constant reminder about her person of Frederick's love and fidelity.
She finished dressing, and hurried into the dining room, which was deserted. A glance at the clock confirmed that it would be some time yet before her father or Elizabeth surfaced, as neither of them kept early hours in Bath, particularly not after an evening of entertainments. Mrs. Clay, too, was nowhere to be seen, a fact for which Anne was grateful. Elizabeth's companion was surely unhappy at being excluded from Lady Russell's gathering the previous evening, yet Anne knew her friend cared even less for Mrs. Clay than she did for Captain Wentworth, and in the case of the former it cost her little to indulge in her feelings. For Anne, Lady Russell had pledged to get to know Frederick better, assuring Anne that she would likely come to care for him as her friend did. If last night's behaviour was indicative of Lady Russell's getting to know him better, Anne almost wondered if ignorance would have been preferable for him too.
A breakfast eaten alone is hardly an enjoyable occasion, so Anne ate quickly, a cold meal of bread and milk. She was soon replete, and decided to go out on her walk early, as she did not wish to be discouraged from calling on her friends.
Despite the hour, Bath was already bustling, and Anne enjoyed watching the variety of people she passed from all walks of life, and heading in every conceivable direction. She wandered slowly towards the Musgroves' rooms, knowing that they were likely already up and open to the receiving of guests, particular one as close as Anne. Still, she hesitated on the doorstep a moment before knocking. Louisa would wish to know all the details of what had passed between she and Frederick, details nobody else had even thought to ask. She swallowed her disappointment. People had congratulated them, of course, but her family had expressed mostly shock, which had settled into a reluctant acceptance of the situation. Only Admiral and Mrs. Croft had seemed heartily pleased by the development. Pleased, and not altogether surprised. Anne wondered if Frederick had confided in his sister and friend the state of his true feelings. To be welcomed as a dear friend - and sister! - by those she valued so highly was a blessing. And with this recollection, her spirits lifted. Here, among the Musgroves, was to be among Frederick's friends, his chief supporters and those who valued him in Bath. They would react with happiness, she did not doubt, rather than the reticence of her own family. She knocked.
"Anne, how good of you to come, and so early!" Louisa hugged her warmly, as Anne was led through to the dining room, where the family were still eating breakfast.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," Anne began.
"Not a bit of it!" Charles Musgrove's voice was muffled as he ate. "Pull up a chair. Here, have you breakfasted?"
"Yes, thank you," Anne replied, dismissing his offer of sustenance with a smile. "I was just at a point and remembered Louisa's invitation to call, and thought I would do it now before I was otherwise distracted."
"And we're so glad you have!" Henrietta beamed at her over the teapot. "For now we will have you all to ourselves and you can tell us every detail of this most delicious piece of gossip we have heard. Is it really true you and Captain Wentworth are to be married?"
"It is," Anne said, overcome with shyness.
"How wonderful!" Louisa exclaimed. "Do you know, I always supposed he had an affection for you."
"Did you?" Anne could hardly help herself from asking. "But I thought you -" She paused, swallowing the rest of her comment before it was voiced. Anne had been convinced that it was Louisa who had captured Frederick's heart. Indeed, she was far younger and more vivacious than Anne thought she had ever been, and long years of separation had done little to improve her, by Frederick's own admission – though she had never admitted to hearing his unkind first assessment of her. Louisa's accident at Lyme had appeared to solidify Frederick's feelings, as his anxiety seemed to echo his love for her. Anne had accepted her fate, but then to discover Louisa had instead formed an attachment to Captain Benwick had been a great surprise! Now Anne looked again at the pretty young woman across the table from her. Louisa was still as young and vivacious as she ever had been, but there was a quietness to her now, a seriousness that had been missing before. Long weeks of convalescence had healed her, but taken its toll on her former self. She radiated a peace of mind and calmness that had previously been lacking.
"We said as much, didn't we, Louisa?" Henrietta's assertion interrupted Anne's thoughts, and she smiled. "We could tell there was some past connection between you, a romance or a friendship - of course we never dreamed after all this time…!" Henrietta beamed at her again.
"Well, Louisa, you asked me to call on you and so I thought I ought." Anne said, changing the subject to her true purpose in visiting. "What would you like to do today? We could take a walk, if you are well enough, or -"
"Oh, yes, do let's go out. The weather is too pleasant to stay indoors, only we'd better wait here until Mary surfaces. She shall be so cross if we go without her."
"Where is Mary?" Anne asked, her eyes resting on the empty seat at the table.
"Asleep," Charles said. "Mama and Papa have already gone out, but Mary asked not to be disturbed early this morning, after staying late at Lady Russell's."
"Oh, did you stay?" Anne asked. What she meant was: did anything happen after I left? What conversation did I miss, and was I featured in it?
"Yes, the time fairly flew by after you went home." He paused, then smiled a little apologetically. "No offense."
"None taken," Anne said, and she meant it. She liked her brother-in-law's simplicity and good humour and knew he very rarely thought or spoke ill of anyone.
"Anyway if you young ladies wish to go on your walk, I can bring Mary along once she is breakfasted." He named a tearoom which was popular with their set. "Shall we meet for tea? I'm sure she will be keen to join you."
The idea was agreed upon as being a good one, and before long Anne and the two Musgrove sisters bustled out into the town, eager to escape the house before Mary awakened, lest she delay their departure any longer.
"How are you feeling, Louisa?" Anne asked, eager at last to get a personal report of Louisa's health. Although her recovery had been long since been ascertained, circumstances and life at Bath had kept Anne from setting her own eyes on her young friend before now, and she was pleased to see Louisa looking hale and well, though a little paler than she remembered her.
"Quite well, though I must be careful to rest often."
"Even more so with a wedding to plan," Henrietta interposed.
"Indeed, and she is not the only one, I hear?"
"No, I am to be married too, to Charles Hayter. You recall him, don't you Anne? He joined us once or twice while you were at Uppercross."
Anne smiled and said that she did, and Henrietta's face lit up with pleasure at Anne's agreement that he had indeed seemed like a fine young man and quite clearly deeply in love with Henrietta.
"Charles is all well and good if you enjoy quiet country living," Louisa said, with a sniff. "But I am so much more enamoured by a man who is well educated, and who has travelled."
"Charles has travelled," Henrietta protested. "Why, he is in London at this very moment."
"London, indeed." Louisa said, in a tone that suggested little approval of the nation's capital when compared with a voyage across the seas.
What followed amounted to little more than a direct comparison of the sisters' beaus, as unlike as two men could conceivably be, and yet destined to be related, through marriage, to two sisters as alike as the Musgrove girls.
As they drew within sight of the tea room, Anne breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and interrupted the rapidly-escalating sisterly squabble with a suggestion that they stop inside for a moment and take tea while they waited for Mary. This idea was met with enthusiasm, and offered a distraction from talk of husbands and their most redeeming qualities, until the tea had arrived and a hush quite fallen over the table.
"Anne, you as usual have allowed us to talk all morning and shared little yourself," Louisa said, laying a sisterly hand on Anne's and giving it a squeeze. "Tell us all about Frederick."
"Yes!" Henrietta said. "Oh, do tell us everything. How did he propose? Did you know he loved you before he said anything? Oh, I'm sure it was so romantic. Do tell us!"
