When the younger Charles Musgrove proposed Anne was glad she had been forewarned by the Robinsons of his admiration. Although in recent weeks she had gently tried to discourage him, she had come to believe he was determined to ask anyway. Thus when he joined her on a walk (Anne was walking more than anytime prior in her life as that was the only way to see the Robinsons which would not garner anyone's attention as no one in her family cared what she did as long as they were not inconvenienced and they would only potentially be inconvenienced if she took one of the carriages and had discovered to her delight that frequent constitutionals had improved her stamina and sleep at night), she had a feeling the moment had come and determined to spare his feelings as much as possible, as she genuinely liked him and did not want to cause him pain.
Mr. Charles paused and turned toward Anne, taking her right gloved hand from his left arm and holding it with his right. "Dear Miss Anne, I have been enjoying your company these last months. During this time I have come to love you. Would you consent to be my wife?"
She saw a look of hope in his eye, but not much other emotion. She could not help but find his tepid proposal nothing to the other proposal she had received three years prior.
She told him gently, "Good and kind as you are, Mr. Charles, my heart is not able to give you the love a wife should give to a husband."
"Miss Anne, are you still mourning your mother or perhaps the loss of another?" And then not giving her time to answer, added, "If that be the case, is it not better to be comforted when in pain than to bear it alone?"
Anne was struck by his perception and compassion. She wondered if he had seen her with then Commander Wentworth now three years past, or had noted that she did not react as happily as most women did when being informally courted, but it did not change her answer.
"Mr. Charles, while you are a fine person and one I would be most obliged to call a friend, I cannot give you the answer you want. However, I certainly feel a familial affiliation toward you. Perhaps I may be your sister someday."
Realizing he might be thinking she was suggesting Elizabeth for him, she added, "Please consider my sister Mary when she comes home from school and formally comes out. I think you might suit; she has been admiring you for many a year and waiting to grow up for you."
This last part was a bit embellished. Mary had noticed Mr. Charles at church and at one point had commented on him being "quite a handsome man" to Anne and seemed pleased when Anne mentioned that he was the heir to Uppercross and yet unmarried. Anne had noticed that when in they were in a room together that Mary's eyes sought Mr. Charles out, but as she was not "out" yet, Mary had barely exchanged two words with him. Whether Mary thought about Mr. Charles at all while away at school or even remembered him at all was not a matter Anne could determine. Her sister never mentioned him in letters but then her letters were so devoted to minute descriptions of her ailments, she hardly talked about anyone but herself.
However, of the men available nearby, Mr. Charles was certainly the finest and his good humor could only bring out more of the same in her sister, and more importantly Anne trusted that he would treat her sister well and her sister's future would be secure. She did not think Mary had some hidden trove of passion ready to be applied to a deep and abiding love. Anne believed that a pleasant marriage was probably the best that Mary could do and that Mr. Charles could give it to her. That was really all Anne wanted for Mary and was probably all Mary wanted for herself.
Mr. Charles's expression was pained. "Perhaps, but first I must mourn what is not to be." He kissed her gloved hand and then made a little bow. "I hope the rest of your day is pleasant," he added, "but it seems I cannot continue to escort you home as I have no business there today."
From that she gathered that he had been certain of his reception and had planned to go straight away from gaining it, to seeking out her father. Instead he was fleeing her company rather quickly.
While Anne regretted any pain she was causing Mr. Charles, she could not regret her answer. Additionally while Anne believed that he might regard her with pleasure and genuinely esteem her, she did not believe he actually loved her despite his words. She had sensed no strong passion in their interaction so how could he have any unrequited love for her? Anne believed that a mutuality of feelings was necessary for a vigorous love to bloom and grow; all she had given Mr. Charles was friendship. Additionally, Mr. Charles's presence of mind in how he treated her after she refused him bespoke of no great passion lurking beneath his breast.
That evening before going to bed, she dwelled on memories of Frederick's proposal, which were still etched deeply in her mind, like a knife digging into flesh, while Mr. Charles's proposal was like a light line of chalk on the skin, right before one washes it off. She remembered running beside Frederick as he pulled her along and hid them safe from prying eyes behind the oak tree where their exchanged kisses were fervent. She remembered the flood of sensations which awakened parts of her that before that she did not know had such a purpose, and wanting more than anything to be closer to him still and the disappointment she felt when Frederick's lips left hers, though his words in asking for her hand were almost as delightful as his kisses. The oak tree was witness to it all and even now when she passed that tree, a bit misshapen from the recent breakage of a damaged limb, it always brought a heightened color to her face. She hoped the tree would continue to grow more mighty still and some day the new limbs it would sprout would completely mask the earlier damage. However, when she was feeling the least hopeful about her future with Frederick, she would imagine the oak's exterior hid a decaying core and one day she would find it toppled over after a storm.
Anne did her best to avoid thinking about Frederick's response when she had taken it all back and was for the most part successful as Mr. Charles's reaction was not even an echo or reflection of the hurt her Frederick had displayed when she rejected him.
That night she wrote: Mr. Charles Muskgrove, the younger, proposed to me today. Frederick, there is no need to be angry, of course I refused him. While a kind man, he simply cannot compare to you. Frederick, though you might never come for me, I cannot bear the thought of having another man kiss me. It is abhorrent. I cannot imagine having to tolerate his touch when I long for yours. I cannot bear another man's children. It would be an abomination, a twisting of the love I hold so dear. I will stay in the state that God has placed me, single and a maiden, until all hope is lost with either your death or your marriage, or if neither should occur while I yet live, I shall remain this way until my last breath. Please do not make me wait a lifetime. Three years is already too long.