Chapter Nine
Anne did as he had instructed and tucked herself into a corner while waiting for the concert to pause again. Now and then she would see Frederick pass by the entrance as he paced the length of the terrace outside. She could not help but beam as she thought back on this morning and how sad and cross she had been, and now how contentment radiated from her every pore. It was him, he was her everything, just as she was his. In time the musicians laid down their instruments and the audience were once again on their feet seeking nourishment.
"Anne, Anne? Where did you disappear to my dear?" asked her concerned Godmother. Unfortunately her concern seemed to be more directed at surveying the faces of the people around as if she sought out someone in particular. Anne almost rolled her eyes, why was she still so fixed against Frederick? Had he not already achieved everything he said he would? He had proved them all wrong, including Anne herself, he was a good man and he would make a good husband. He was an eligible man with a reasonable fortune.
She made an excuse for her absence and when the rest period was over, joined them back inside. Mr Elliot fought his way through to ensure his place at her side, Anne cared not. She was already stealing glances at Captain Wentworth who had taken up his place once again leaning on the wall, giving the impression he had remained there all night.
"Wentworth is the name." her father's voice shocked her out of her trance and the name he had spoken, stole her attention immediately. She turned in her seat. "He is the brother of my tenant at Kellynch." Her father continued.
Anne listened in amazement as her father told the Dowager about his connection to Frederick, and agreed with her as she praised his handsome face and strong physique. Anne squirmed in her seat. She was hot and her forehead was gathering a sheen of sweat. It was uncomfortable to sit there and listen while those around her talked of the man she loved, even if at this moment it was all in favour of his attributes. She knew it could not be long before they turned sour. She dared not even look at Frederick. She could only imagine what he was thinking. His exceptional hearing which had caught the whispers of the gossips, would have no trouble in understanding the conversation going on around him. She dropped her head in shame.
In another moment she found Frederick had been beckoned forward by Colonel Wallace to talk of war, when the music began again it was suggested the good Captain join them – for it was understood the Dowager would like to know more about him – it was to Anne's terror that he took the offered seat – next to Elizabeth.
If Anne had found trying to concentrate on the performance in front of her difficult before, she now found it impossible. Every word uttered, every movement was magnified. She was sat in front of them and so could only imagine the torture he was having to go through at the hands of her family. As much as she wanted this turnabout in her family's opinion of him, she did not envision it happening quite like this, and she was far from at ease about the whole situation. She heard Elizabeth whisper something and Frederick reply. Although she could not decipher the words.
Then the worst happened. Elizabeth laughed.
It was not loud. She did not guffaw or fall about in helpless giggles. It was a short laugh, which was easily –and quickly- excused. Barely anyone even heard it. But Anne did, and it disturbed her greatly. Not merely because Elizabeth rarely laughed or took pleasure in anything other herself, or the distress of others, but because she knew the source of her joviality; Frederick. He had made her laugh.
She felt herself flush and looked over her shoulder the best she could without drawing attention to herself, she thought -she suspected- he was looking at her, she felt his presence around her as if it was his arms holding her, and yet at the same time there was a great chasm forming between them, despite their earlier conversation and the closeness in which they sat. She heaved a sigh and sat back in her seat trying once again to follow the music and close out all the unpleasantness around her. She no longer had the patience to even attend Mr Elliot, and after rather shortly telling him she wished to give the performance her full attention, she was finally left alone to do so.
Frederick was torn, in the one hand he was enjoying Anne receiving her share of the jealousy from watching someone fawn all over your beloved, just as he had had to endure with Elliot, on the other he was tired of the pettiness between them, and longed to announce to everyone in attendance how they were engaged and beg this foolishness to cease. The other over powering concern he had, was that the source of Anne's jealousy was none other than her sister Miss Elliot.
Almost from their first introduction, Frederick had been sure Anne was meant to be his wife. Elizabeth had been present at that assembly also, and while those in attendance had spoken of her unparalleled beauty and elegance, he had not seen it. All he saw was a cold and distant young woman who spent more time catching her reflection in a looking glass than looking in to the eyes of those who admired her so reverently. He had listened to her interactions with her peers – including her neglected younger sister, and had been sickened by her cruelty. No, Elizabeth Elliot had never held his interest.
Anne had stood in the background, patiently greeting everyone who approached her with a warm smile and kind words. Knowing not only their name, but in most cases those names of their family, asking about each in turn. He had been enchanted by the warmth she exuded and the stark contrast between her inviting personality, and the stand-offish manner of those related to her by blood. Now as he stole a glance at the woman seated beside him, he could see nothing had changed. Even if Elizabeth was not aware of the new developments betwixt Anne and himself, he was sure she was aware of their past. That being the case, how could she do this to her own sister? To flirt and make eyes at the man she was cruelly parted from. It was hurtful to Anne, and pointless to him.
Even if he had never met Anne, and was free and single he would not want her for a wife. He gave a shudder at the thought and then quickly glanced round to see if anyone had noticed. He was trying as hard as possible not to make direct eye contact with any of them. Sir Walter and Lady Russel, were to be avoided at all costs, since he was sure he would be unable to hold his tongue. He had told Anne he would speak to her father and he would, but he would need to be a great deal calmer to do so.
He looked up in the pretence of watching the concert, when in reality he was examining the beguiling woman in front of him. They had not been this close for this length of time, since Lyme. She glanced over her shoulder, although her neck did not stretch far enough for her to lock eyes with him, he felt the connection even if it was the back of her. He knew without seeing, she was thinking of him.
Her dark hair was trussed up in some kind of complicated design with a large pearl encrusted comb, one he knew had belonged to her mother and about the only piece she had access to, despite the amount she was bequeathed. The pale ivory stood out against the rich chestnut. The occasional tendril escaped, either by accident or design. Baring Anne in mind, he was of the opinion it was the former. Her perfectly formed ears were adorned with some droplet earrings of a simple design. Her long elegant neck was left free of jewels. So instead his eyes feasted on her creamy skin as it joined her bare shoulders. She was so beautiful he could only imagine every part of her equally so. And soon she was to be his wife.
He began to fidget in his seat as the heat rose in his cheeks. Thinking of her in that manner, in a public place surrounded by her family no less, was unacceptable. He struggled to keep his composure as she moved again, her shawl slipped down to reveal her slender arms. He remembered those arms resting on his as he held her in the rain, and when they were trapped; wrapped around his person as they slept.
Now he was uncomfortable for an all new reason.
Physically, he was uneasy and needed to move to create a better position to hide the evidence of how affected he was. As much as he had enjoyed being in her presence, he would be glad when the whole evening would come to an end.
Soon enough the last notes were played, applause rang out and he was able to make his excuses to the rest of Anne's party.
"Sir Walter."
Anne's father looked almost alarmed at being singled out by the Captain, his eyes widened as Frederick stepped closer to him.
"I wonder if I may call on you tomorrow afternoon, there is a matter of importance I wish to discuss with you." There, he had done the right thing, even if deep down he knew it to be a waste of time. That the man would no doubt still say she deserved better than him, and in the most part he was correct.
Anne did deserve better. She deserved the best, to be mistress of a grand estate like Kellynch and all that entailed. However, she also deserved to be loved by the man who knew her best, the man who would do anything for her, who would consider her to be the centre of his world, the man who loved her like no other, and that man was not her cousin Mr Elliot. It was him, and he would prove it to them. If it took forever.
Sir Walter glanced in the direction of Elizabeth seeking her guidance as always. Needing clarification that this would be in order and not a detriment to their status. When she smiled serenely to herself and then mysteriously in the direction of Wentworth, Sir Walter agreed and a time was set, so that they would not be disturbed.
In the commotion that followed, as they exchanged goodbyes with the Dowager, Frederick was able to steal a glance at his fiancée and was rewarded with a radiant smile, whatever utter ridiculousness he was sure to be privy to in the meeting with her father on the 'morro, it would be worth it. He had made her happy and that was worth everything.
The next morning, Anne's temporary feeling of elation and relief at knowing Frederick was coming to see her father and their engagement would no longer be a secret, was being replaced with anxiety and concern. Not for herself, she knew no matter what the opinion of those closest to her, or what they may say in attempt to persuade her again against such a match, she would marry Frederick. She wanted to be his wife. She had wanted it for over eight years. Since the very moment he put aside all other countless pretty girls at the assembly where they first met, and set his eyes and his heart on her.
He had been earnest and welcoming, and so easy to talk to, it was difficult to remember they had only just been introduced. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say, and purposely drew her out of herself including her in conversation and wishing to know her opinion on any topics, not just those deemed appropriate for a young lady. He was refreshing and so different from all those men she had witnessed fawning all over her sister – to whom Frederick had barely paid any attention other than what was polite.
When he had begun meeting her – accidentally at first- a friendship of sorts had formed. He made her smile and laugh, and feel like she could be herself for the first time since her mother had been alive. The cares that had weighed on her daily, seemed to lift when he was with her and the more time they spent together the more she imagined so much more.
Like any other young girl in that position, she imagined what it would be to be married to such a man. He was tall and handsome, he had a strong physique which with time spent serving in his majesty's Navy, had only improved. The attractive athletic young boy had been replaced with a striking man who commanded the attention of everyone, just by entering a room. Even at such a young age he had been so sure of himself and later, of them. Of what he would accomplish, the career he would carve out for himself and all he planned to provide for her.
They had talked for hours of the war and life aboard a ship. Later when friendship had grown into courtship, what it would mean to be the wife of a Captain. Their time together had been short and secret, and yet the feelings so ardent however swiftly formed, were no less as strong then if they had been in existence for years. Now they had time behind them as well, the feelings eight years ago which had been so absolute they had forced Frederick to ask for her hand so soon, and for her to accept without hesitation or reservation, despite their later bitter parting, had only increased over the years. Anne knew her love for Frederick to be fierce and she would not lose him.
No, her only worry now, was if Frederick should be insulted and humiliated by her family's lack of respect for him and his family. She was certain he would marry her no matter what also, but she did not wish him to be hurt or slighted by insults her father would be sure to throw at him. Although last night had proved they could be civil, and that they were at least aware of his accomplishments, it had been in the company of, and most likely to impress, The Lady Dalrymple, and now, in the cold light of day and alone at home, she was not sure those manners would remain.
Frederick's visit was set for later that morning, so as soon as it was an appropriate time for calling, Anne hurriedly made her way out of Camden Place finally having the opportunity to visit her friend Mrs Smith. She had not gone far when it came to her attention someone was following her. She did not need to be afraid, as it became quickly apparent, her tracker was none other than her intended. He quickened his pace so that he fell into step with his fiancée.
