Chapter Nine
The small gathering at the Goulds' was everything it should be, never mind the fact it was an informal party, all the local gentry families in the neighbourhood had been invited – all those that matter anyway – The Elliot's of course, Lady Russel, The Musgroves, Mrs Finch and one that particularly did not. The friendly Monkford curate Mr Edward Wentworth. Edward had been more than surprised by the invitation, but then he had discovered that the knowledge of his recent house guest had already made it way around the sitting rooms of his neighbours. He blamed Mrs Finch – a kindly well-meaning widow who was intent on match making all those single people around her. She had been the one who had placed Anne in Frederick's path in the first place. Rumour was the old lady's health was fading and she rarely came to parties any more. However, on hearing the navy Captain was back, and Miss Anne – having turned down Charles Musgrove, was still unattached – she had made it her mission to ensure both young people were present with her in attendance.
As it was, Frederick had already decided, invitation or not, he would be attending that party. Call it morbid curiosity but he needed to see the happy couple together, to hear everyone say their congratulations and know it was over, forever. The day before, Anne had given out too many mixed signals. He didn't know if she was giving him a sign there was still a chance, or just laughing at him. He wouldn't have thought her capable of the latter, yet he had never thought her capable of hurting him so either. Edward had been supportive, had told him not to make assumptions. One thing Frederick was looking forward to, was the look on Lady Russel and Sir Walter's faces when they realised that not only had he returned, but he was made. They dismissed him so readily. They had believed he would amount to nothing, but he had proved them wrong hadn't he. Here he was a Captain at such a young age, and about to embark on a commission that would secure his future both financially and professionally. Yes, he had nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. It was them who should feel humiliated, to have been so wrong in their assumption of him.
In Kellynch Hall Anne was enduring her own bout of nerves, she had been so bold the day in the meadow, almost inviting the Captain herself to the party, now she wasn't so sure she had done the right thing telling him about it. Her father and God Mother would be less than pleased by his presence, there was bound to be some kind of confrontation. The Musgroves were to be in attendance too, it would be cruel to Charles, when he discovered the history between them. Then there was Mrs Finch, she had been instrumental in bringing them together three years ago, ensuring they were introduced and providing ample opportunities for them to meet and spend time together. She would no doubt be on similar mission that night too, and then there was Frederick himself. She was still unsure what he was doing back, how long he was staying and what part she played -if any- in his plans.
She stared at her reflection in the looking glass, it had been only a few years, at two and twenty she was still young, but she did not look it. Her father had been right. Her hair was dull and lifeless, her face pale and drawn, her eyes had lost their sparkle and her mouth felt as if it had forgotten how to laugh. She was thinner too, her dresses which had once hugged her curves she gained on the way to becoming a young woman, now hung off her slight frame. She thought of Elizabeth; tall and elegant, the epitome of an English Rose and Mary; young and full of life and laughter. And she thought of Frederick of how their years apart had been nothing but kind to him. Apparently only improving the perfection. His once athletic frame was stockier and broader, working on a ship had improved his muscles and being constantly abroad had left his skin tanned but not weather beaten as her father would have every one believe of the Navy men. His hair looked thicker, his jaw stronger, his entire countenance screamed confidence and self-assurance. Everything she had not in her haggard state.
There had only been a slither of doubt, a chink in his otherwise perfect resolve. When he stood clutching her shawl, she saw a glimpse of the pain he must have felt when she ended their engagement, otherwise his façade remained proud and unwavering.
Someone called her from downstairs and she turned to finished getting dressed, dismissing the ridiculousness of the fact she was wearing a new dress or the fact she had the maid spend a little longer than necessary arranging her hair. There was nothing wrong with wanting to look nice occasionally, she told herself. Her only concern was that it would not go un-noticed. Her very attendance at a party she would normally have excused herself from had raised some eyebrows within her family. She knew as soon as they saw him – Lady Russel at least- would realise the true reason behind her sudden change in attitude and appearance. Still, she thought as she smoothed her dress – she would face the repercussions later.
Mrs Finch had arrived first at the Goulds. She had offered the Wentworth brothers a seat in her carriage, which they had politely refused, Mrs Finch suspected it was because the Captain would want to make a swift getaway if needed be – she hoped vehemently that would not be necessary. Two and a half years was no time at all and yet time enough to change everything. It was long enough for a young man to prove himself in his profession, long enough for a young once easily persuaded woman to realise the error of her ways, long enough for that same young woman to have come of age, and long enough for hearts to have begun to heal. She hoped.
The Musgroves had been next through the door, the young Master Charles looked downcast but not beaten. He had thought on what Anne had said earlier to him and could not help but see sense in it. He would not let her rejection get to him. The next time he saw Anne he would greet her as a friend like always, no animosity between them. The footman stood forward to announce the next guests and Charles looked for the Elliots' only to be surprised by the appearance of Edward Wentworth the curate, and another man. He had similar features to Edward's, and yet he was a bigger broader man. Charles took note of his blue uniform and surmised this to be the famous Captain Wentworth the villagers were all wild to meet. If memory served him right, the man had been in the area before, years ago, before the Musgrove family had moved. He would be pleased to make the man's acquaintance and so stepped forward to be introduced.
Frederick saw the figure of Charles Musgrove walking towards him and he straightened his stance in anticipation. He hadn't been formally introduced, but he knew by the determined look on Musgroves face, he knew who Frederick was. He stole himself for the onslaught of recrimination concerning Anne and no doubt how he should stay away from her. Something he had no intention of doing less she told him to. "Captain Wentworth I presume?" Charles held out his hand, his eyes shining and his smile warm. If this man meant him any harm, Frederick could not detect it. He shook his hand. "Charles Musgrove." he continued. "Always good to see a new face amongst us. Tell me, will you be with your brother long?"
Frederick glanced around him, was he being led into a false sense of security? Was this man planning to distract him with small talk before ambushing him? "I ... I cannot ... I am not sure yet." he mumbled.
Charles continued unperturbed, "I hear you were here before, a few years ago was it?"
"The year Six. Yes." answered Frederick
Charles nodded. "Not so long ago, you must know most people here then. You will not have met my parents though."
"No it is my understanding they moved to the area after I had left."
Charles nodded again. "How long did you stay?"
"About half a year." Frederick said anxiously, wondering where this line of questioning was leading.
"What caused-" Charles had been about to ask what had driven the Captain away when a hush fell over the group. The last of the guests had arrived.
Sir Walter entered the room full of air and pomp that made Frederick think he hadn't changed at all, except maybe to have become more ridiculous. On his arm was Lady Russel, the very name stirred anger and contempt within him. He blamed her above all others. Her influence, her trusted position as Anne's confidant had caused him so much distress. Elizabeth followed behind, still as beautiful - some would be of the opinion- still as cold, haughty and self- obsessed observed Frederick. Behind her was the real beauty of the family, both inside and out. And beautiful she looked that night. Her dress was very becoming and her hair reminiscent of how she wore it in the past. Frederick knew he was staring open mouthed but he could not take his eyes off of her.
However did he imagine he could ever live without her?
Without that wonderful woman in his life. Her eyes, her smile, he had never gotten over her, never found her equal. Never would, he knew that now. She may have found happiness with another, but he would not. He would probably marry someday, give his wife a good life, never be cruel or unkind, but he would never love her and perhaps that was most cruel of all. Another young lady appeared -whom he gathered was Mary and he forced his gaze away.