I know, I know…forgive me?
Short but with more to come. I'm getting back on track with everything and intend on getting this story finished as soon as possible. I estimate…5 more chapters? Maybe.
It was one week since Frederick had arrived back in Lyme, when he was woken far earlier than usual by a furious banging on the wooden door to his room. It took him some time to emerge from his dream state, confusing the banging to canon fire for a long while.
Still wrapped in his dreams, as well as the sheets, he crossed to the door and undid the latch. Pulling the door open he came face to face with a very flustered looking Harville.
His friend, who was quite out of breath and red about the face, thrust a sealed letter at him before stumbling into the room and plonking himself down on the unmade, recently vacated, bed.
"Good morning to you too," Frederick mumbled, smothering a yawn. He closed the door and turned, leaning against the solid frame and stared at his friend.
"Well?" Harville enquired after a few moments. "Aren't you going to read it?"
Frederick looked down at the letter trapped between his body and hand. It was in Benwick's neat and precise scroll. "Why is Benwick writing to me?" he asked, confused.
"He would not say. I apprehended him this morning and he asked where he might send it, since he did not know your brothers address, and I said I would post it for him."
Frederick raised an eyebrow. "Apprehended?"
"He was looking downright shifty."
"Hmm."
"Hmm? That's all you have to say?"
"What more do you want me to say?" Frederick asked.
Harville huffed. "You could at least fake some interest. This letter might be the beginning of the rest of your life. If it where me I would be all over it by now."
"You always were impulsive."
"This coming from a man very rarely had a pre-plotted course laid out and sailed by the direction the wind was blowing that day."
Frederick smiled. "You have to admit it was often very fruitful."
Harville waved him off, "Yes, Yes. Now, will you open it?"
"I will, if you promise to go after and let me get back to sleep."
He secured a nodded promise from Harville before breaking the seal of the letter and unfurled the solitary piece of paper, reading the short, simple message that it contained.
"Well?" Harville prompted.
Frederick read it again. "It is not from Benwick," he said, looking up.
"But it is his writing, I am sure of it." Harville made a grab for the letter but Frederick held it away from him.
"He may have penned it, but this note is from Louisa."
"What does it say?"
Frederick sighed. "She requires my presence," he said, holding out the note for Harville to take before plopping down beside him on the bed.
"No wonder he was looking wary. If Margaret finds out he'll get a cuff around the ear." Harville stuck his nose in the letter and scrutinised it. Reading each word and sentence carefully.
"Requires your presence eh?" Harville remarked when he had finished. He held the letter out to Frederick, "Sounds ominous."
"It does."
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"What can I do but wait a few days then make my appearance? My future is in her hands." Thanks to my own foolish actions, Frederick thought to himself.
"Perhaps she wants to see you to release you?"
Frederick held back a snort. "And how likely is that, do you think?" he asked honestly.
Harville frowned. "Margaret says she still asks after you, but not nearly as frequently as before."
"But she still asks?"
His former first mate sighed. "I'm afraid I can not tell you much Frederick. Margaret and Benwick are with Louisa far more than I am. I prefer Miss Anne's company."
"As do we all."
They sat in silence for a time, each contemplating the situation.
Harville shifted. "I should be on my way."
Frederick stood and offered him his hand, pulling him up. "Thank you my friend."
Harville nodded. "I will say I have posted it off to you then I shall be delighted and enthusiastic when you make your reappearance in a few days time, as though I had not seen you for weeks."
Frederick nodded his head distractedly, pulling the sheets he was wrapped in, tighter about his body. He suddenly wanted to go back to bed and sleep right through to the spring. Perhaps by then everything would be sorted.
Clapping him on the shoulder, Harville shot him a pitying look before heading out the door and pulling it closed behind him, leaving Frederick alone to ponder.
If the letter had indeed been posted, it would have made today's post and most likely have reached him tomorrow. He would need a day at least to organise his departure from his brothers and another two to make it back to Lyme. That marked his day of return to the following Tuesday, five days from now.
Falling back on the bed and pulling the sheets over his head, Frederick wondered whether it might be possible to sleep right the way through till then. He was certainly going to try.