The dilapidated wooden structure in front of them stood on wheels and measured no more than 10 feet long and 7 feet wide. After knocking with no response, Captain Wentworth pulled at the door and it opened easily. A quick inspection inside confirmed it was uninhabited, so he helped Lady Russell and Anne off their horses.
The hut appeared to have been recently abandoned, or perhaps its owner was away. The sparse interior contained only a small stove in one corner, a straw bed with a few tattered blankets folded on top, and a cupboard with dishes. Two small windows let in the only source of natural light.
After tying the horses to a nearby grouping of trees, Captain Wentworth brought in the saddlebags and set to work. He handed Anne and Lady Russell thick wool blankets to warm themselves. Then he took out a tinderbox and some dry wood procured from the Great House and lit the stove. Once he was satisfied with the warmth radiating from it, he stepped outside with a small pot, filled it with fresh snow, and placed it on the stove to make warm drinking water. As Anne and Lady Russell watched, the latter grudgingly admitted to herself that she admired his knowledge and efficiency.
Reaching into the bags once more, Captain Wentworth pulled out some food.
"Salt beef and biscuits - basic navy provisions," he said apologetically. "They are easy to transport and last a long time, so they do well in an emergency. Admiral Croft misses ship food from time to time, and he gifted these to the Musgroves, but they couldn't give it to me fast enough." He chuckled. "They are, perhaps, an acquired taste."
Wrapping a cloth around the hard biscuit, he smashed it into smaller pieces before offering the food. Anne took a small bite of the beef and nibbled on a chunk of biscuit, grateful for any nourishment. To her surprise, they tasted pretty good. Lady Russell also ate, and if she disliked the taste, she did not show it.
With her spirits restored by the warmth, water, and food, Lady Russell reflected on her earlier behaviour with regret. The unfamiliar and unpleasant experience of being stuck in a cold carriage for hours had frayed her usual patience, but it was no excuse for her poor conduct. She shuddered to think what would have happened if Captain Wentworth had not come to their aid, and realised with chagrin that while he had apologised, she had not.
"Captain Wentworth, please allow me to say how sorry I am for my behaviour earlier. I know that you were only trying to ensure the safety of myself and Anne, and I am very grateful to you."
"Please do not distress yourself, Lady Russell. I am glad to be of service to both you and Miss Elliot." His tone was friendly, with no hint of sarcasm or bitterness.
Feeling humbled, Lady Russell continued with a well-earned compliment. "Captain Wentworth, I am amazed at your many hidden talents. I do not know any other gentleman of my acquaintance who can predict the weather or light a fire."
"We sailors must learn many skills to survive at sea and far from home."
"Indeed. I suspect you can cook food and mend clothes as well, among other things."
His smiled at the veracity of her remark. With a hint of mischief in his eyes, he replied, "The navy is a profession which, if possible, is more distinguished in its domestic virtues than in its national importance."
This drew a laugh from Lady Russell. "No indeed, Captain Wentworth. Were it not for the superiority of our country's wooden walls, we might all be speaking French now. Perhaps I had not done justice to your profession in the past, but I will be the first to admit that I was mistaken."
Anne listened in amazement at the friendly dialogue. Maybe Captain Wentworth and Lady Russell would reconcile their differences after all.
~~OOO~~
A couple of hours later, Lady Russell lay asleep in the straw bed whilst Anne and Captain Wentworth sat side by side near the warm stove, holding cups of water and chatting about a variety of subjects. How different it was from his distant civility at Uppercross and Lyme! Outside, the wind howled loudly and the wooden walls creaked under the pressure.
"That sound reminds me of the gale we encountered in the autumn of the year seven, on our way to Plymouth," Captain Wentworth reflected.
"The one in the Sound that lasted four days and nights?"
"Yes, that is the very one."
He raised his eyebrows, impressed by her memory. Did he not know that she remembered everything about him? Another reaction soon replaced his first, as he saw her countenance fall and her eyes rapidly blink back tears.
"Anne, is something the matter?"
"I remember when you told us about it over dinner at the Great House, back in October. You said that if you had ended up in a small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers, nobody would have thought about you… But that is not true."
His heart skipped a beat and he tried to keep his voice steady.
"What do you mean?"
Only after the recent events in Lyme had he begun to understand himself. He still loved - had always loved - Anne. Might it be possible that she felt the same? He looked at her intently, scarcely allowing himself to hope.
Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, Anne lowered her eyes to her lap. Their hearts were once so open to one another that she was incapable of answering him with anything but complete honesty. Nervously fidgeting with her fingers, she gathered the courage to continue.
"I would have thought about you," she said in a half-whisper. "I thought about you and prayed for your safe return every day."
In an instant, he moved closer to her and clasped her hands. The heavenly smell of leather and sandalwood returned, and his warm and rough hands against hers electrified and awakened every nerve in her body.
"I should not have spoken those words, Anne. I thought you had forgotten about me, and I was acting out of anger and despair."
"I could never forget you."
His heart swelled at her declaration and he boldly pressed on. "Anne, I have been such a fool. I have loved none but you. I had imagined myself indifferent to you, when I had only been angry. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever."
She was struck, gratified, confusing, and beginning to breathe very quick, and feel a hundred things in a moment. This might be her only opportunity to tell him her true feelings, and she decided to seize it. They could share one brief moment of joy before reality burst upon them.
"Frederick," she whispered, and his eyes widened when he heard his given name, "my affection is yours for ever."
His grip on her hands tightened and he gazed into her gentle, dark eyes that spoke of requited love. Overcome with joy, he did not hear her next words.
"But we have to -"
"My own dear Anne! I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, over eight years ago. Please say you will marry me, sweetest, loveliest Anne." He brought her hands to his lips and reverently placed a soft kiss on each palm.
As he lifted his eyes back to her face, he saw her expression had changed to one of confusion and despair. Doubt began to spread through him. But surely he could not have mistaken her sentiments!
"Anne, what is wrong?"
"Frederick… Captain Wentworth…"
He started at her formal address and dropped her hands as if they had turned to burning coals. Was she upset at his taking liberties before she accepted him?
"I beg your forgiveness for kissing your hands. It was an impulse of the moment, but it was ungentlemanlike behaviour."
"No, it is not that."
Despite his concern, she prized his bursts of feeling that occasionally overstepped the bounds of propriety. Though she could not bring herself to behave similarly, his frank and open-hearted character was one of the reasons why she loved him so utterly and completely.
"What then, my love?"
Her heart whispered that she should stop talking and enjoy his kisses and tender words, but she knew she would suffer in her conscience. He obviously had no idea about his predicament, and she lamented that of all the people in the world, she was burdened with the task of telling him. After drawing a long, shaky breath, she proceeded.
"What about Louisa?"
His brow contracted and looked at her in confusion. "Louisa… Musgrove? I am afraid I do not understand."
"You and Louisa have… formed an attachment."
He caught her words with shock and surprise and shook his head emphatically. "No, you are mistaken. I do not care, could not care for her. When I thought you no longer loved me, I tried to see if I could attach myself to her, but I found that I could not."
Anne was loath to continue, but she knew she must. "It is not only my opinion. I know for a certainty that Charles, Mary, and Admiral Croft share the same view. I would not doubt that others do as well. While it may not have been your intention, I regret - very much - to say that there is… an expectation."
His astonishment was obvious, and after a few moments of silence, his face displayed an expression of mingled horror and mortification. He had indeed been unguarded with Louisa. He recalled their first walk alone to glean hazelnuts at Winthrop, subsequent walks where he gladly jumped her from the stiles, and their early morning stroll by the sea at Lyme, among other particular attentions he had paid to her.
The disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. No sooner had he discovered Anne's true feelings for him, than he must mourn the loss of her through his own folly! He struggled to compose himself.
"I had not considered that my excessive intimacy with Miss Musgrove must have its danger of ill consequence in many ways. I am no longer at my own disposal." He could not believe the words tumbling out of his mouth.
Fresh tears sprang into Anne's eyes as she nodded in agreement, her throat too constricted to speak. She had lost all hope of regaining his affection; to discover now that he still loved her was a cruel trick of fate.
"Anne, you must know that I would marry you at once if I could, but I am honour bound to Miss Musgrove if she wishes it."
"Of course. You are an honourable man. I would not wish it any other way."
Her voice faltered as she felt her heart slowly shattering, one piece at a time. Seeking to give comfort, he reached his hand out to her again. She held it and squeezed it tightly, savouring his touch one last time.
"Anne, this is my doing, solely mine. I will set things right. I will find a way back to you."
She smiled sadly and said nothing, knowing the impossibility of his words. Thus they sat, hand in hand, enjoying the beautiful illusion of being reunited once again. A few feet away, Lady Russell lay on the bed with her back to them but her eyes open. She had not caught the whole conversation, but she had heard enough.
~~END OF CHAPTER~~