A huge thank you to all of you who have reviewed this story and stuck through with me. Real life (work, family and travels) gets in the way and I have to remind myself that 'A writer who doesn't write is just inviting insanity to be their eventual companion' Or something like that.. :) I will keep updating this story and my others, so please continue with your (always helpful) feedback and suggestions. This story is so close to my heart and I'm so excited to see it take the direction that it is.
Lots of love!
Anne started to rip away the wet layers from herself, but they stuck to each other like papier mache and resisted her sharp, sudden tugs. Still, she persisted, looking in satisfaction as his coat dropped on the floor in a soggy puddle, followed by her dress and corset. Finally, only the petticoats clung to her, suffocating her skin. She clawed at the knots and tried to shake off the soaked strands of hair that fell into her eyes. "Helen? I could use some assistance." she said, her voice rising and reverberating through her empty chambers. Another tug at the tight knots and she gritted her teeth, exhaling forcefully. "Helen!" she cried. Her angry shout whipped through the silence and she immediately regretted it. She heard the patter of the maid's feet on the stairs, took three quick breaths and tried to will the despicable tears to stop.
The door cracked open and Helen rushed in, her eyes wide. "I beg your pardon, Miss Anne, I was attending to Mr. Elliott downstairs. Mr. Brockhurst was engaged with Sir Walter and Miss Elliott.", she said as she undid the knots Anne was struggling at and helped her step out of the pile of clothes at her feet. "It's all right. I didn't mean to startle you, Helen. Thank you." Anne mumbled, as she tiptoed towards the tub of hot water that the maid had prepared for her. She sank to her knees and sat down carefully, letting the salts dissolve around her as she leaned forward and inhaled the scented steam until her chest hurt. She dipped her head in the water, burying her face and blinking hard. I wonder if I can scream aloud underneath here. Would anyone hear?, she thought and smiled. Instead, she blew out the air in her lungs in a cacophony of bubbles, threw her head back and shook it from side to side with force. She heard Helen shriek with laughter as her wet hair released a stream of water on her skirts.
Anne smiled at her, surprised at the effort on her facial muscles. It's an effort, this pretense. She thought.There are moments when I can read you like an open book, and then there are those frosty flashes of temper with which you ruin everything. She sank lower, until the water came up to her chin. I am exhausted, she thought. Her hands gripped the edges of the tub as she lifted her feet to rub the bath salts into her skin. Helen pushed her forward gently and started scrubbing her back. Anne relaxed into the pressure of her palms. I cannot bear your fury and your presumptions anymore, Frederick. Are you unaware of the power you wield on my temper, on my very being? With a start, she realized that indeed, he was blissfully so. Her spirits had soared when he'd kissed her after the concert, her senses had blazed with elation as she'd held him again. After this evening, however, she could not help but doubt her own judgement. It was evident that he regretted his outburst, but that he would be so ignorant of her intentions and maliciously hurtful until it broke her, was startling. It sent a chill through her, despite the warmth of the water.
She curled into herself, breathing in quick bursts as her pulse increased in pace and made her feel faint. "Are you well, Miss Anne?" Helen said, as she felt the tremor go through her. "I think I might be coming down with a cold, Helen. I shouldn't have walked home through that torrent." Anne mumbled and noted her own shaky and high voice with distress. "Aah, that's nothing, Ma'am. The hot water and lavender will make you feel better, I'm certain." Anne nodded and leaned back, unable to speak for a few moments. "Besides, I know something else that will cheer your spirits.", the maid said, a sly smile on her face. "Do you?" asked Anne, relieved at the distraction. "Yes, Ma'am." Helen said and gushed. "Mr. Elliott visited just now. He was very eager to see you and asked me not to mention his visit to Sir Walter and Miss Elliot, Ma'am." Anne frowned. Mr. Elliott making an attempt to meet her in private? Had he perhaps discovered her friendship with Mrs Smith and wanted to illuminate his participation in her husband's affairs? What else could he have to say to Anne that could not be shared with her father and sister? Curious, she looked up at Helen's gleeful face. "Did he say why he wanted to see me?" To her amusement, the girl blushed as she got up to fetch Anne's robe for her. "He said he needed to speak to you urgently of some matters close to his heart, Ma'am." she said and smiled, her eyes sparkling. Anne could only gape at her. Bile rose in her throat as she realized who the source of the rumors had been. He has probably regaled half of Bath with our wedding plans by now.
She got up and stepped into her robe, aware of the palpable anger in her expression and its effect on the maid, who dropped her gaze and scurried away to fetch her garments. She dried herself and let Helen help her dress properly. With a grimace, she recalled Mrs Smith's assertion "He really wants to marry you. He respects you immensely, I have heard. Besides, you will have the happy blessing of all your family, won't you, Anne?", her friend had said. Anne couldn't help but agree with that particular observation, although it disturbed her how accurate her earlier judgement of Mr Elliot's character had been. Had he persevered to explain to her his true conduct in the past and that he repented over it, she might even consider changing her opinion of him. Is that what he wishes to confess to me tonight?, she wondered. She speculated if she would ever forgive him the betrayal of her family's and her trust, even if he apologized for it. Despite her mind's hurried objections, she knew her own sense of duty would compel her to do so.
The warm, dry layers of fabric felt wonderful as they enveloped her. Anne smiled fondly at how her gown draped her figure. She had spent many an evening in the company of her books in this gown. She closed her eyes and sniffed at it, pleased to find that it smelled of mothballs and roses, and she teased the familiar worn inside edges as they scraped against her skin, albeit gently. Noting the familiar yearning in the pit of her stomach, she draped her arms around herself. This is barely akin to being ensconced in your embrace, Frederick, she thought and opened her eyes, startled at the image that was burned on her vision. What wouldn't I give to rest my head on your heart and simply stay there? She frowned at her reflection in the mirror and balled up her fists, attempting to stop her train of thought. However desperately she tried to be livid at her obstinacy, it was impossible to solicit the emotion. You're the cause of this agony, and yet you're where I am at peace. If only, if only I could..
"What should I tell Mr. Elliott when he comes back, Ma'am?" Helen's voice interrupted her thoughts. "He said he would visit again in an hour, and it is almost time." Helen said and looked down at the floor. Anne glanced at her and looked back at her own reflection. Despite my raucous feelings, I am duty-bound, she realized as a dull slump spread through her body. "Tell him I shall see him in the parlor, Helen. Thank you."