The votes are in from 21.1runnergirl, LoveMySofa, Doris212, ladymurasaki26, lovepersuasion, ronaleem, and DimmDimms. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and voting. The democratic process has played out and the majority has voted that I continue for a few chapters. As that was my inclination (but for the concern that I would not finishing by my timeline), that is what I shall do. It is really helpful for me to know that a few of you out there are reading and caring about these characters.
Just to clarify, as this story is rated "T" I am not going to be explicit about anything I write, including the wedding night, but there shall be romance, necking, candid conversations, and more. I shall linger on some of the good stuff with all the feels more than I would have if I was trying to wrap this up fast.
50.
The walk back to the harbor took far longer than it should have, despite the fact that the return was almost wholly downhill. Frederick was almost entirely to blame, as he slowed them down numerous times to gain small moments with his wife, and the other women were obliged to stop, feign more interest in the scenery than they actually had (although there were many pleasant vistas to admire), and ignore what was occurring steps behind them. Mirabella and Sophia were mostly indulgent in this, both recalling being newly married, when they could not get enough of their husbands.
When they at last reached the Song, Captain Smithe took one look at the smile upon Frederick's face before he gave him a congratulatory thump on the back, "So you have wed your lass, well done." He scrunched his brow, cogitated and declared, "there is no time to make it back to Antigua now, so I hope you shant have to spend your wedding night aboard my ship, as we cannot depart until the morrow."
Frederick explained the alternative arrangements that had been made, which satisfied Captain Smithe. But the reserved captain's mouth split in a large grin when Frederick handed him some money and said, "I wish for you and your men to celebrate my success, which could not have happened without your help. Eat and drink well, but do not become so disguised that no one is fit to sail in the morning."
Frederick and the women went aboard to fetch what they would need for the day and night, while Captain Smithe's first mate gladly went ashore to procure food and drink with Captain Wentworth's shillings.
Anne, in putting all she needed in her simple cloth work bag, regretted that she did not have a better nightgown to pack. Once she had thought this nightgown was very fine. The white cotton was edged in a soft eyelet ruffle and had been a gift from her godmother on her fifteenth birthday, before she had even met Frederick. It seemed to Anne in looking at it now, to be more fit for the girl she was than for a married women. Anne seldom replaced her night rails as her father had never been generous with her pin money (he much preferred to spend more money on himself and Elizabeth), and she generally received her sister Elizabeth's castoffs (if they were not instead given to Elizabeth's maids). Anne had deemed it more important to have a new dress now and again than something no one but a maid and washing woman would see. Also, in preparing for a life with Frederick, she had bought medicinal books and such with her spare funds, and not spared a thought to what he would see her in at night. This nightgown, the only one she owned which she had received new, and which was fortunately freshly laundered on Antigua (that had been one of Mrs. Croft's first tasks upon them reaching port, to have their clothes, and those of the crew sent to be laundered), was still sadly worn, yellowed, and had a torn seam. Anne had not thought to have another made.
Sophia saw Anne pondering the garment, and had no difficulty in seeing Anne's dilemma, one that could not be solved just then. "Never you mind about your nightclothes Anne. It will not matter in the least to him and I doubt you shall be wearing that for very long tonight."
Anne's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. Her cheeks pinked and the top her chest as well (or at least that was all that was visible given the neckline of her gown); the contrast in the color of her skin to the light blue of her gown was striking even in the indirect light afforded from the single window in Captain Smithe's cabin. Anne tucked the garment in her bag and said nothing as she hurried up to the deck.
Mirabella shook her head, "Oh Sophia, you embarrassed her so!"
Sophia raised an eyebrow and replied with aplomb, "What did I say but the truth? Anne is a remarkably innocent given her age and the knowledge she has gained of the medicinal arts. I thought we had provided her ample information, but does anything really prepare one for how it will all be? Better that she blushes more now than later."
A few minutes later they all reached the deck again (each bearing a bag for the day and night, Frederick's made of leather, his sister's a heavily embroidered silk, and Anne's and Mirabella's of much more humble construction). Frederick's first order of business before they left for the shore again, was to hold up the ring that he had bought for Anne. "Mrs. Holmes, I greatly thank you for the loan of your ring, but as I have the one I intended for Anne here, we can give yours back."
Anne nodded, grasped the ring on her finger and was twisting it off, when Mirabella declared "Stop. My ring was a gift and I shall not take it back. It was given in love, to my dear, dear friend and it serves a more noble purpose now than it did sitting on my finger with me long a widow. Please say that you shall keep it, Anne, for it was with this ring that you were wed."
With such an impassioned speech, Anne nodded, and Frederick was not about to gainsay his new wife. Therefore he simply said, "Thank you, Mrs. Holmes. Anne is very fortunate to have such a devoted friend. However, if you ever change your mind, you only need ask and you shall have it back."
"No indeed," declared Mrs. Holmes most earnestly. "I knew how it would be when I gave it to you. There is little enough that I have that is of value, and I have nothing else to give the two of you for all you have done, and have committed to doing for me."
"Your friendship is the dearest gift you have given me," replied Anne.
The two women embraced and from then on were even closer than they had been before. As for Frederick, he pulled out his pocketbook and placed the ring safely inside a buttoned pocket therein, placing the pocketbook deep into his pocket.
While the four of them departed the ship together, they were only a few yards away from where the Song was moored when Mirabella and Sophia had an earnest whispered conversation. Frederick and Anne did not notice, for little could get their attention besides each other, but the result was that Sophia declared to the pair "Mirabella and I shall see you at the parsonage in time for dinner, but until then we plan to have our own fun."
Frederick did not like the idea of the other women being unprotected at an unfamiliar port, but also knew how capable his own sister was. While Admiral Croft would never forgive him if any harm befell his wife, he also knew the chance of any harm was quite low in the daylight hours (and it was not as if he was a fit guard while being distracted by his wife). Frederick was also certain that he and Anne would have more enjoyment of these first hours as a married couple if they had no chaperones, no matter how dear to them or well-meaning. Thus, in the end, he consented and they parted ways.
As a gentleman, Frederick requested and began carrying Anne's workbag only minutes after that. Anne's cheeks pinked a little to think that he was carrying about her nightgown, although of course he did not know what he was carrying.
Frederick sought out a bakery, and bought a loaf of bread, and at an open-air market obtained some cooked sausage. He wrapped each item in oil cloth and placed it in his bag. He also bought Anne a deceptively simple-looking necklace made of graduated wooden beads that he caught her admiring, and a pretty pocketbook worked with flower embroidery.
Frederick thought with pleasure of the small trove of treasures he had been buying over the years for Anne which awaited her aboard the Laconia. He wondered if he should give them to her all right away, or space his gift-giving out.
Although Frederick was uncertain exactly how Anne would feel about it, once they finished perusing the market, he determined to find them somewhere where they could be alone. He led them away from the main street and up a green hill, leaving the buildings and the people behind. Each time the path diverged, Frederick set off on the smaller path. As he went along, he thought about how much he wished to hold Anne tight and kiss her, something that was not exactly appropriate for even a married couple out in public.
Frederick wished to find as remote a spot as possible. His general plan was that they might picnic together. He thought in such a setting, Anne would be relaxed and they could talk frankly about anything, for they had very little privacy to talk with complete candidness, for someone was always about. That did not mean that they had talked about nothing of importance, but he had things he wished to say to Anne that were too precious and private to be said before anyone else. If eventually they kissed also, well all the better.
Anne was not used to walking and it required quite a bit of effort on her part to keep up with Frederick once they started up a hill. But her shoes were sturdy and broken in enough that it was not uncomfortable to walk in them, so she said nothing about her difficulties.
Frederick led up higher and higher, on thinner and thinner paths. Finally, there hardly a path at all. He climbed to the top of a rock to see where they might picnic. He was pleased to spot what appeared to be an almost flat clearing between some trees, which was set back perhaps twenty yards from the path upon which they were walking. Anne was glad to pause as he investigated, to catch her breath for a moment.
When he climbed down he exclaimed, "Anne, I have found a very nice grassy spot which I think might be a fine place to sit and talk, and break bread together. Will you come look at it with me and see if its suits?"
Anne thought she just might be able to make it over to where he was pointing without having to take another break, but took her time picking her way around some shrubs. Frederick had already made it there and was kicking some overly ripe yellow fruit with brown spots to the outside of the clearing with his shoes. "These are guava trees. Their smell is that of overripe fruit; you will not mind that, will you?"
Anne did not mind and was more than ready to sit down on the blue blanket that Frederick unfurled from his bag and spread upon the grass. Anne sat and after Frederick placed their bags on a far corner of the blanket, Frederick sat himself down beside her. Then he did not know what to do, and feeling somewhat awkward he spoke the first comment that came to his mind. "It is much better that they are guava trees and not trees of death."
"Trees of death?" Anne questioned.
"Yes, every part of the Manchineel tree is toxic. The fruit, the leaves, the sap. The leaves look close to those on these guava trees, broad and green. Those trees are highly toxic and if you get some sap upon your skin, it will blister. The fruit resembles green crab apples and is sweet smelling, but they are well called apples of death, or sometimes poison guavas. It is not even safe to take shelter from a storm under the trees for the sap will mix with the rain and burn you. They cannot be burned, for the smoke will damage the eyes and the throat. However, if their wood is carefully cut and dried in the sun, it makes some fine furniture."
Frederick added "I have heard of a man who took a tiny bite of a death apple and lived to tell the tale, but his compatriots who took a full bit or two all died in agony, vomiting and you know, the other thing. Even this man, oh how he suffered! He said the sweet taste on his tongue grew peppery and burned, his throat almost closed shut, he could barely swallow and could not talk at all, and for many hours he feared he would die; when his throat finally opened up some, the spots near the throat that swell up when you are sick, well they swelled up horribly and caused him more agony. But these trees here, they are guavas, the smell is unmistakable."
Both looked at the trees about them with some discomfort. They had just eaten guavas the day before, and both knew in their minds that these were guava trees for there was some fruit on them still, but the idea of those trees of death, which must look something like guava trees (given their similar nickname) was disquieting. After such a grim anecdote, neither of them knew what to say. Frederick felt foolish for telling such a story to his wife, as this was hardly conducive to a pleasant picnic, a confidential discussion, or romance.
Anne felt his discomfort, but strangely the longer it lasted, the more she relaxed. She had been worried that she was not worthy of her husband, that he would someday feel disappointed in her. But here he was, showing his feet of clay, his imperfections.
Suddenly, the whole matter struck Anne as funny, the very ridiculousness of the whole thing. She chuckled softly, but the chuckling grew to earnest laughter, which Frederick after moment joined in with, his rich laughter magnifying her own mirth. It took them several minutes to settle down, for when one laughed, it set the other off again. Anne laughed so hard that a few tears fell down her cheeks and her belly hurt.
"Oh Frederick, that story," Anne wheezed out, "at such a time, filling our minds with the agonies of death, when we should be celebrating the joining of our lives!"
"I know," gasped he, "I have not the faintest idea of why I told you such a macabre story! Forgive me, my love."
"Do not worry, it did not occur to me before now, that despite your confidence in all things, that you may have hardly more of notion of how we should start off our married life than I do. I have been worried about disappointing you, but now I am less anxious about it."
"You disappoint me?" Frederick was incredulous. "Impossible!"
He reached out and stroked her face with his near hand and Anne leaned into his touch, her eyes wide and trusting. "May I kiss you?" he asked.
Anne nodded, but raised a finger. "Let me get off my bonnet first, and shall you not remove your hat?" They divested themselves of their headwear, tossing the items lazily to the far side of the blanket. Frederick leaned forward, his hand sweeping around her neck to lightly cradle her head, fingers itching to remove her hair pins and unwind her hair. Yet he did not, for there would be no way for Anne to fix it properly again, out here.
They both leaned forward, and kissed, tentatively at first, but deeper and more fervent as they went along, for there was no one to stop them now. The kissing on Frederick's part began slowly and deliberately. He tried to be restrained, almost polite, even as Anne's hands raked through his hair along his neck, and beneath the edge of his collar, just a little, and she pulled him closer to her.
Frederick did not want to get carried away, out here where someone could find them, even if it seemed quite unlikely that anyone would, but those rational thoughts began to be subsumed beneath the deliciousness of kissing his Anne as fervently as he had on the night they had become engaged.
Anne was even less in control of her impulses than Frederick was. All she wanted to do was to grow closer and closer to him. Her hands unwound his cravat and cast it aside. She pulled at his coat. He paused to remove it for her. The slight break made him see how she was panting, her pupils dark, her lips plump from being kissed. With pride he realized that he had done this.
"Frederick," Anne cried, reaching toward him, unmindful of how she was overbalancing herself as she leaned toward him. He had hardly gotten his coat off before they tumbled back together, him on his back, her half atop him. Frederick's hips were canted away from Anne's to one side, but their torsos lay against each other. She leaned closer still and meshed her lips with his once more, her greedy hands working the closure of his shirt. Frederick hardly knew what Anne was doing until one of her hands was sliding along his chest.
Frederick could not help but groan with pleasure. It felt so very good as her hands touched his heated skin and her fingers weaved their way through his chest hair, but the rational side of Frederick which was in danger of winking out of existence given all of this heady delight, was worried about where all of this was going. He wanted to touch all of her, to know her skin thoroughly, to feel the swell of her chest, oh how very much he wished to do all that and more, but, but . . . . He had not come up here with any intention of acting on animalistic instinct, and making Anne fully his wife beneath these trees, with their bodies bare to the sky and sun, birds, and any who might decide to go guava picking. Yet he could see how it could happen in just that very way, his wife perhaps not really knowing the passion she was inciting in him, in starting to touch him so intimately. He did not want her to be embarrassed later, to regret anything. He did not want anything rushed.
Frederick rolled them over, so he was atop so that he might lift himself from Anne, but the kiss continued and her arms caged him as she plucked at his shirt, pulling it from his trousers. Anne lost no time in delving under his shirt to stroke his back. Frederick moaned from pleasure and from disappointment as he forced himself up and away from Anne. He sat up and hoped his desire was not too much on display.
Anne sat up as well, a little wrinkle between her brows, confused. "Why did you stop?"
Frederick gestured around him, "This is not where we should be doing all of this."
Anne's confusion did not clear. "Whyever not? We are married and no one is around, and you did bring the blanket so we might lie upon the ground."
"No, that was not why I brought it." Frederick hauled his bag closer. "I thought you might like to sit and talk while we had some refreshment. He pulled out a half-full corked bottle of wine, a bruised apple, the bread and sausage he had purchased, and a bundle which was in a smaller bag and wrapped in cloth, which turned out to contain a cut glass preserves jar two-thirds full with some kind of dark preserves. "Blackberry" he said, noticing her interest, "I brought it with me from England." Frederick pulled a pocket knife out and cut off a piece of the bread.
Anne felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. She blushed, felt hot, and pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks. What must he think of me! She looked down, unable to meet his eyes, worried about seeing condemnation in them. Anne had always been a proper, upright woman, and just now she had forgotten herself, who she was, and what was expected of her.
Frederick paused what he was doing and laid down the bread and knife. "Anne, Anne, all of that was lovely, truly it was, and I want all of that and more, just tonight rather than now. We must have a break before things get out of hand." He ran his thumb below her chin. "Shall you not look at me, my dear?"
Anne looked up, meeting his eyes, and seeing nothing but sincerity in his, kept his gaze. He told her, earnestly, "I am so fortunate to have a wife who seeks my affection, wishes to give me such attentions. It is all I could ever want, but just now, I almost forgot myself and what I owe you. It is just that, well what if someone were to come over here to this grove to pick some guavas and saw us? I cannot do that to you."
Anne imagined it, a father and son, mulattos, walking toward them, holding a large basket between them, swinging it with each step. The father would pause and listen, hearing some sounds but not quite sure what they were. The son with his sharp eyes would see them moving together from a gap in the trees, Frederick's body atop her own. "Papa, what are they doing?" the son would ask, pointing. The father would squint his eyes, correctly interpret the scene and then what? Why, the father would turn away and say "Let us find another patch of guava trees." But what if the people to spot them were someone else? Any woman would turn away horrified, but were there not men who would creep closer to spy upon them?
"I see your point," Anne said with regret.
A/N: I hate to leave it there. My original plan was to get through the whole day and the wedding night in a single chapter, but even with all the writing I have done, I am not even close to doing that yet. But the good news is that what you just read is a only about 2/3 of what was the original chapter. Given the total length, I had to split the chapter up. Therefore, there is a good chance that you will get the next chapter in the next day or two (especially if the predicted snowy weather is poor enough to keep us home tomorrow, but not poor enough to deprive us of power). As always, encouragement helps me to be motivated to write faster, so if you enjoyed what I wrote, let me know.
Next up, more fun with Frederick and Anne, the dinner, the wedding night, and an unexpected event the following day (which came to me this morning as I was waking up and then bathing, which is often when I come up with new ideas), although I don't think all of those things will necessarily end up covered in the next chapter. Have a great Saturday.