As the morning sun spilled through the windows, Anne awoke with a groan. Her body ached from sleeping on the hard floor and her empty stomach rumbled. After slowly opening her eyes and adjusting to the brightness, she sat up and massaged the knots in her shoulders and neck with her hands. Looking around the small hut, she saw Lady Russell tending to the stove but no sign of Captain Wentworth.
She walked to one of the small windows to see outside. The storm had passed, with but a few white clouds dotting an otherwise brilliant blue sky. Spying Captain Wentworth tending to the horses, she hastily exchanged pleasantries with Lady Russell before grabbing two cups of water and heading out the door.
Her boots sunk into the soft snow, crunching the tiny ice crystals as she walked. At the sound of her steps, Captain Wentworth turned, allowing her a full view of his dishevelled appearance. Dried patches of mud covered his boots, his pants were dirty and creased, and his cravat hung from his neck in a hopelessly crumpled mess. The left side of his hair was flattened down, no doubt from where he had slept, while another patch of hair at the top shot straight up to the sky. An uncontrollable smile spread across Anne's face.
Seeing her reaction, he laughed, then spread his arms out and slowly turned in a circle. "I have not the advantage of a mirror this morning. Tell me, how do I look?"
You look devastatingly handsome, Frederick. Anne kept that bold thought to herself. Instead, she inspected her wrinkled dress, the bottom six inches splattered with dirt. Although she could not see her hair, she was certain it looked almost wild. "No worse than I, surely."
His dark eyes twinkled. "Then I must be utterly enchanting."
Instantly, she felt her cheeks burning from his forwardness. Unable to recall the last time she received a compliment, she had trouble forming a coherent response. He grinned at her reaction. He could not wait till the day he could shower her with the love and adoration she deserved.
Turning the subject, he said, "Mr. Musgrove should be here soon. I had told him about the hut before I left, and he said he would find us in the morning if the weather cleared."
She acknowledged him and found her voice again. "Thank you. Thank you for all you have done. Lady Russell and I are much obliged to you."
His eyes turned serious. "You of all people are not obliged to me for anything." He paused before continuing, "How I wish I could undo the past. I never wanted to cause you pain, Anne."
"I am, sadly, all too familiar with the pain occasioned when the heart must give way to duty."
He knew that she referred to their broken engagement in the year six. How many years had he resented her for disappointing and deserting him, and now here he was, doing the same to her.
"You must despise me."
"No! Never. I could never despise you."
His voice was thick with emotion as he stepped closer. "I am so sorry, Anne. Will you ever be able to forgive me?"
"It is already done, Frederick."
Hearing her use his Christian name again, coupled with her generous response, made his heart ache all the more. She was the only woman in the world whom he could ever think of as a wife, and he cursed his sense of duty and obligation. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms and kiss her, or better yet, whisk her off to Scotland.
When Mr. Musgrove arrived, he reported that Lady Russell's carriage was no worse for being left overnight at the side of the road, and his men were replacing the broken wheel. He also brought his own coachman to convey Lady Russell and Anne the rest of the way to Bath.
After accompanying Lady Russell and Anne back to the carriage and retrieving their trunks, Captain Wentworth prepared to take his leave.
"Good bye, Lady Russell." His swallowed the lump in his throat. "Good bye, Miss Elliot." Struck by the finality of his words, he hastened to add, "I hope to see you again soon."
For a few more moments, he lingered at the door, unwilling to leave just yet. Once the carriage set off, he would be heading back to Lyme. Back to Louisa. When he finally closed the door shut, Anne thought to herself that the next time they saw each other, he would be engaged to Louisa, or perhaps even married. Not wanting Lady Russell to discover her feelings, she fought back the tears threatening to spill. The last thing she needed now was a lecture on the reasons why Captain Wentworth was, despite his success and wealth all these years later, still unworthy of her love.
The remainder of their journey to Bath was blessedly uneventful and silent. Anne had no desire to converse, and Lady Russell granted her favourite god-daughter the solitude that she required.
Upon their arrival, Anne was put down in Camden Place; and Lady Russell then drove to her own lodgings, in Rivers Street.
~~OOO~~
"Wentworth! Come in, come in!"
Despite the dark emotions raging inside him, Captain Wentworth could not help but smile at Captain Harville's effusive friendliness.
"Good day Harville. I am sorry for my delay. The roads were quite muddy and a few were impassable, forcing me to find detours."
"No need to apologise! How did you and the Musgroves fare in the storm?"
In no mood to talk about Anne, Captain Wentworth simply replied, "Well enough. How were things in Lyme?"
"Just a little snow here, as you see. Miss Louisa has been quite worried for your safety. She has been asking about your arrival since she awoke this morning. If she is this anxious now, think about how she will be when you are married and ordered out to sea!"
Great, so Harville considers me an engaged man too!
"You may inform her that I am quite unharmed."
"Why not tell her yourself? You have not visited her since the accident. What are you waiting for?
Captain Wentworth knew he must see Louisa and discuss their situation; however, he was not ready to face her so soon after giving Anne up, and he needed to carefully prepare his words.
"I am sorry, Harville. I am tired from my long journey and have a headache. I will head back to the inn now. Please make my apologies to Miss Louisa, and tell her that I will call on her tomorrow after breakfast."
Once he returned to his room at the Three Cups Inn, Captain Wentworth tried to formulate his plan. How would he extricate himself from his entanglement with Louisa? His conversation with her must strike a fine balance, releasing him without hurting her feelings. Louisa was blameless, and he did not want her to suffer any further from his thoughtlessness. She had already been through enough with her head injury, for which he felt entirely responsible.
Although he tried to concentrate, his thoughts continually drifted to Anne. How beautiful she had looked that morning with her impish smile and mussed up hair. The softness and warmth of her hands when he held them in his. The emptiness he felt now that she was gone, and how he longed to be in her presence again. Stop it, Frederick. You must figure out what you will say to Louisa.
It promised to be a long night. Sighing at the unpleasant task ahead, Captain Wentworth poured himself a glass of brandy, the first of many before he would finally fall asleep.
~~OOO~~
Anne entered Camden Place with a sinking heart, anticipating an imprisonment of many months. As she stepped into the drawing room, Sir Walter turned in her direction.
"Ah, Anne, finally you -"
He abruptly stopped at the sight of her while Elizabeth and Mrs. Clay gasped and snickered. He had never seen any daughter of his look so… slovenly.
"Anne, what happened to you?" Sir Walter's face clearly showed his astonishment and disgust. He took a step back lest her dirt be contagious.
"Lady Russell and I were delayed by the snowstorm," she replied flatly.
"I sincerely hope nobody except the servants saw you walking into this house. It would have been better for you to wait until evening to arrive. People will think I have taken in a vagrant!"
Anne coloured, angry that her father cared more about appearances than her safe arrival. Sir Walter's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed her muddy boot prints marring his otherwise pristine floor.
"Well, there is nothing to be done about it now. You must bathe and change your clothes immediately before the rest of the house suffers the same fate as the floors." He rang for a maid before continuing, "Dinner will be in one hour. We have a guest tonight, so you will make a fifth, which must be deemed a disadvantage."
Ignoring her father's insulting words, Anne glanced around the room until her eyes came upon a young gentleman sitting in a corner. She recognized him as Mr. Elliot, the same man she had seen twice in Lyme. What is he doing here? The expression on his face was a mixture of surprise and amusement, and when their eyes met, he nodded in recognition.
Noticing their exchange, Sir Walter said, "Once you look presentable, Anne, I shall properly introduce you to Mr. Elliot."
At this statement, Mr. Elliot stood up and walked over to Anne. "But we are already acquainted, are we not Miss Anne? We met in Lyme."
Anne smiled. "Yes, you are correct."
"I hope you did not suffer too greatly from the snowstorm." He gave her a look of genuine concern.
"Other than my frightening appearance, I am quite well."
Lowering his voice, he smiled and said, "Despite what others may think, I find your look uniformly charming."
Anne blushed. "Thank you, Mr. Elliot."
At that moment, the maid appeared and ushered Anne to her room. Once the hip-bath was filled, Anne peeled off her clothes and stepped in, luxuriating in the warm water. Sitting down and closing her eyes, she felt her muscles relax and the stress from the last two days melt away.
Anne thought back to her reception in the drawing room. She had been surprised to see Mr. Elliot again, and on seemingly intimate terms with her family. Clearly, he had reconciled with her father. She found herself excited for Mr. Elliot's company; his polite and agreeable manners were a vast improvement over her father, sister and Mrs. Clay.
Perhaps Bath will not be so unpleasant after all.
~~END OF CHAPTER~~
Author's note: Our dear couple is now separated by about eighty miles and Mr. Elliot has entered the picture! Coming up next - Frederick talks to Louisa. How will that conversation go?