And the most loyal reviewers award goes to . . . ElizabethSoph and DimmDimms.

52.

It was a contented party that walked down the hill to depart for Antigua. The Wentworths led the way and were happy just walking companionably side by side, holding hands when the trail was wide enough to permit it, but it was not the sort of happiness that led to much chatter. Sophia and Mirabella followed a few feet behind them and let the couple set the tone for their walk and only occasionally made some small comment or another, for they had many things to occupy their minds.

Mrs. Croft congratulated herself that it was she who had brought the Wentworths together again. She also congratulated herself that in her discussion with her husband, it was she who suggested on the idea that Frederick and Anne should sail to another island to marry. John had agreed it was a fine idea and together decided he was the one who should tell Frederick about it. She knew that by having her husband communicate the idea, a man who by age and rank was Frederick's superior, that her brother would feel better in not having thought of it himself. She might not have the acknowledgment, but she could revel in the results of her efforts.

Sophia also was cautiously optimistic that this time, assuming she was in fact breeding, that it would end in success. Strategically eating some biscuits when she roused in the night and consuming her ginger candies had eased her upset stomach, and she felt well enough at the moment. She was having much joy in the thought that by the evening she would be in her husband's arms again, and able to share her expectation with him. It would not truly feel real until then.

Mrs. Holmes was feeling glad that all was resolved with the marriage of the Wentworths and soon she would be living on the Laconia with her son. She was contemplating what it would be like to help Anne in the sickbay given her lack of medical knowledge, but was content that Mr. Dash seemed a patient sort. She hoped that soon, soon, she could do something to help her husband's and father's kin. Then perhaps, she would feel at peace with her life.

Mrs. Wentworth found within a few steps that she had acquired a blister, one that must have formed late in their walk the evening before but which had hardly been notable given the necessity of them reaching the parsonage and all the strong emotions she had been feeling about having married and approaching her wedding night. But with each further step she took, it pained her more. But there was nothing to it, they needed to reach the Song and so she resolved to bear it without troubling anyone else about it.

Anne knew from her training with the Robertsons and from all her dealings with her sister Mary, that dwelling on a pain real or perceived, only makes the pain worse. Therefore she needed to focus on anything else.

At first Anne thought about all the pleasures from the previous night, noting an inner ache that told her she was a maiden no more. Anne had never thought much about those part of her body that were hidden from view, and when she did she think of them before, it was only with the knowledge that this was what made her a woman and would allow her to someday be a mother. She had not known that the efforts to gain such children could be so delightful. Even in thinking of such things, she felt herself blush and long to be alone with her husband again. No, it would not do to think of such things when there were many hours to pass before they might be alone again.

Anne turned her attention to the scenery, trying to ignore the pain in her feet (she was fairly certain her left foot had developed its own blister and that a second one might be forming on the right). She tried to focus her thoughts on admiring the lush trees and the view of the ocean when it was revealed by a break in the trees. When that lost its novelty, she tried to memorize the firm feel of her husband's hand in hers as they walked. But that only made her think of the pleasure of his hands caressing her the night before. Such thoughts were hardly apropos at the moment.

Therefore she looked over her shoulder and asked the other women, "Did anything of note happen during your time with the Kirkpatricks after we turned in for the night?"

Mrs. Croft mentioned a few minor things of no particular importance, that were certainly not engaging enough to distract Anne, but then Mrs. Holmes responded, "Sophia, you are forgetting to tell Anne what we learned about poor Tim."

"I was trying to keep the conversation pleasant," Sophia responded with some aggravation. She also had the beginning of a blister on her toe and was somewhat short-tempered as a result. "You go ahead and tell them if you wish to, although it is a rather sad tale."

"It may begin sadly, but at least it has a happy resolution," Mirabella responded.

"Do tell," Anne replied, and that was encouragement enough for her friend.

"Well it seems that Tim is not related to the Kirkpatricks at all," Mirabella began. "He was simply a child in the parish, one that they occasionally saw when his mother would take him to church. She was a quiet woman and Tim was quieter still, although Mrs. Kirkpatrick did her best to be friendly to them both, to draw them out. They never saw Tim's father, though of course the woman was married. I cannot remember their last names."

"That is because they did not tell us their last names," Sophia replied, taking up the telling. "In any event, Mrs. Kirkpatrick was concerned that something was not quite right, and she prevailed on her husband to call upon the family and see if they needed anything, and also to see what he could find about about the family from the other parishioners.

"The long and short of it is that over the course of several weeks they learned that the father worked as one of the men who oversees slaves on one of the plantations. He was apparently known to be free with the whip when he thought that the slaves were not working as hard as they could growing and harvesting sugarcane. The Kirkpatricks soon began to suspect that he was just as free at meting out punishment to his family if he was displeased with them, for on Reverend Kirkpatrick's second visit to their home, when the father came home the mother rushed to serve him with the greatest of solicitude while Tim hid."

Mirabella took up the account when Sophia paused. "There was of course nothing much that the Kirkpatricks could do to help the mother and Tim, certainly not when the mother pretended all was right, and to make matters worse, a certain thickening of the mother's belly that Mrs. Kirkpatrick had suspected might suggest an addition to the family, was proved to be a pregnancy and soon the mother was in her confinement and she and Tim were not seen in the church anymore."

Sophia resumed "Mrs. Kirkpatrick was wild to visit again, even if she and the mother were still not exactly friends. However, her husband did not want her to go alone, so she prevailed to have the midwife, who was a friend of hers, accompany her. Mrs. Kirkpatrick thought it might be a good idea to have a woman with some practical knowledge to at least offer the mother what advice and care that she could. They made sure to visit at a time when the father was unlikely to be around.

"The mother was further gone than Mrs. Kirkpatrick had suspected her to be, and was grateful to have the midwife call on her. She explained that her husband did not see the need for her to pay the midwife either to examine her, or to help her with the birth, and she had enlisted a near neighbor with several children to be with her when it was time. She even confided that her husband, and this horrified Mrs. Kirkpatrick and the midwife you can be sure, and Mirabella and I also with the telling, her husband said 'If the slaves can toil, give birth in the field, and be working the next day, well you can do the same.'

"After some checking on her status and discussion of the timing of when she became with child, the midwife suspected she might be carrying twins, which is a situation with additional peril for the mother and children, you see . . . "

"Yes I know," Anne replied slightly sharply, for she had studied with the Robinsons and a few sessions with the midwife besides, and she also felt a minor annoyance that Sophia should assume her to be ignorant of such a topic, given that Sophia had heard all about her studies. Additionally, as wonderful as the night before had been, she was a bit grumpy from the lack of sleep and her blisters were hurting her something awful.

"But I do not know," Frederick interjected, diplomatically. So Sophia proceeded to explain how twins are usually born early, and each must get in the proper position for the birth and that if the water has broken, they can become tangled up.

"So what happened to the family?" Anne asked.

Sophia sighed and shook her head, "Nothing good, I am afraid. The mother went into labor the next month, which was far too early. While the first child arrived without too much trouble with the aid of the neighbor, she was quite small, but she cried and pinked, and her mother kissed the babe and called her Mary. Something must have been amiss for the mother suddenly passed out, perhaps the mother was bleeding too much, and could not be roused. As the father was not home, the neighbor sent a scared Tim to run to fetch the midwife, but by the time he returned with her, his mother was gone, and the attempt cut the other child from the mother only revealed that he had already passed away."

Frederick sucked in his breath, horrified by how casually they talked of the death of the mother, and opening her up. He held Anne's hand a little tighter and wondered how he could ever wish to go on if after finally having gained her as his wife, she someday died in childbirth. Consequentially he missed some of his sister's recitation.

". . . so he baptized her. The neighbor who was still nursing tried her best to feed the live twin and at first it seemed she might have a chance. however, despite the neighbor's best efforts, in the end it was all for naught and the babe died within five days of her mother. The father was angry to be charged for another burial plot, for if the baby had died earlier they could have been buried together, so in the end they buried the daughter in a small box above her mother and placed a large stone on top to discourage animals, since she was not buried deep enough. But to get back to the events on the day of the birth . . . .

"The midwife had sent for the Kirkpatricks after she went home, she thought that the father and Tim might need some spiritual guidance. They of course came right away and happened upon the father beating Tim something fierce, blaming him for not fetching him and not getting the midwife sooner."

"Oh they felt poor the poor boy," Mirabella took over the recitation. "For he was taking the beating in utter silence. The reverend intervened and received some blows for his trouble, for the father was in such a state, berating his child most cruelly while he also beat him. But eventually the reverend managed to get him to stop, noting that the boy had done his best and had just lost his mother. But this did not soften the father's demeanor at all and he told them, 'The boy is useless and what am I to do with him? Much better it would have been had he died instead of my wife.'

"Mrs. Kirkpatrick could not believe was she was hearing. She told him, 'That is just your grief speaking.' But he shook his head and said, 'That child shall not sleep under my roof anymore. I care not where he goes.' The Kirkpatricks had a decision to make then, what to do about Tim. They could have taken him to one of the neighbors and hoped that the father might change his mind, or find someone else who might board him for his labor, but instead they resolved to take him into their own home."

"What kindhearted people!" Anne interjected. "How glad I am that the Reverend Kirkpatrick married us rather than Mr. Weevelforth!"

Frederick squeezed her hand in acknowledgment that he, too, felt the same.

"It has not been easy for them from what I can gather," Sophia replied. "He is a dear child to be sure, and they have had him for two years now, but it took weeks before he would speak to either of them and then he would only speak to Mrs. Kirkpatrick when her husband was not around. But fortunately Mr. Kirkpatrick is both very kind and very patient, that much was obvious from their account. Tim even now is afraid of Mr. Kirkpatrick and of all men. Tim is so afraid of angering him that it makes him quite nervous and prone to drop things and mess things up."

All present recalled Tim's dropping of the cane and the book and how he flinched even when Reverend Kirkpatrick spoke most kindly to him afterwards.

"Did they know how well he could sing when they took him in?" Frederick asked, curious.

"No, not at all," replied Sophia, "for as I said, he was very quiet when he attended church with his mother. For many months after they took him in, when he sat next to Mrs. Kirkpatrick at church and when it came time to sing the hymns, he would open his mouth, mouth the words, but no sound would come out. Imagine her surprise when one Sunday he finally sang softly and she heard that beautiful voice. She encouraged him and you can imagine it took quite a while before he was willing to sing alone before others. Reverend Kirkpatrick thinks that God gave Tim this talent to help him overcome his past, and hopes that if this gift does not persist when his voice changes, that by then he will be confident enough to live his life without fear."

"Just think," said Mirabella, "perhaps his gift would have remained unknown and bottled up inside him had he remained with his father."

"Worse than that," replied Sophia, "how could a boy survive such a violent upbringing? It is well when someone who cares does something to improve the lives of those children who have been hurt and have no one else."

Frederick thought then about the poor boys upon his ship whom Lieutenant Dowdy had harmed. He had thought that once Dowdy was gone that it was the end of the matter. But in hearing the account of Tim, and what the Kirkpatricks were doing to try to help him get past what he had suffered, Frederick began to think differently. As their captain, was it not his duty to do something to help them all? Frederick made a mental note to find out what he could about how they were doing now.

They were perhaps thirty yards from the ship when Frederick noted that his wife's gait was off. He had never had much occasion to learn to be a horseman and perhaps someone with such a background would have noticed much sooner. "Are you well?" he asked.

"Well enough," said she, determined to push on.

Frederick was not entirely convinced, especially when Anne traded his hand for his arm and leaned heavily upon it. But he left his remaining concerns unvoiced until Anne yelped in response to the sudden pain of her largest blister breaking and the rubbing of her shoe against her raw flesh.

Frederick stopped right then and there. Anne gratefully halted as well, and the other women did, too. "My darling, what is wrong? Did something prick you?" (there were some bushes up against the path) "Are you hurt?"

"It is my feet," Anne confessed. "I am afraid they are blistered. I was trying to just make it back to the ship, figuring that I would rest there."

"You should have said something soon," Frederick mildly scolded.

"To what end?" replied Anne practically. "We still must make it to the ship. What was the use in making you worry?"

Frederick adjusted how his bag and hers, which hung off his shoulders, and swept a surprised Anne up in his arms. "I should have carried you sooner."

Anne was equal shares embarrassed and delighted. To have to be borne by her husband! Yet she reveled in being in his strong arms, safe and secure, with Frederick proceeding as if it was no effort at all. It was hardly something he could have done before their marriage, and it was hardly seemly now, but with the throbbing in her feet she was not about to complain.

It was not quite as easy as Frederick made it look. While he lived a vigorous life as a captain, for he walked miles upon his ship, was quick to lend a hand, demonstrate a skill, and no responsible captain had any time for idleness, he had not the endurance of a man who regularly went aloft. But once he had determined to carry his wife to the dock, he was not about to fail in such a duty. He kept his breath steady, marched forward, and even as he felt himself sweat, and then his arms began to shake with the effort, he did not waiver or hesitate. He bore Anne the whole way to the dock.

The journey back to Antigua was somewhat anticlimactic. The weather was fair, the winds while not favorable were manageable with skilled tacking by the crew, and Captain Smithe directed it all with aplomb with his one arm. As a mere passenger with confidence in the crew that bore him, Frederick sat with one arm around Anne on an unoccupied corner of the deck, their rears padded by blankets. They took turns between napping and talking, content to be in one another's presence. Sometimes the other ladies sat by them and conversed and sometimes they were left on their own. It was pleasant.

The only thing of note that occurred was that when they first sighted Antigua, Anne told Frederick, "As much as I enjoyed having you carry me, I must insist that you not do so aboard either the Hibernia or the Laconia. I do not think either crew will have much respect for me if they see that I cannot even walk about on my own two feet. And truly, with this rest they are better now." Her husband reluctantly agreed.

Rather than docking at the merchant port first, Frederick had arranged for the Song to take them in next to the Hibernia. They arrived about two hours before sunset. There would not have been room for a royal navy ship to berth beside that great ship, but the smaller merchant ship was able to be maneuver quite near and a shouted exchange allowed them to clamber up a dropped ladder one by one, a matter made more awkward for the ladies by their skirts, so that the Song could be on its way. Admiral Croft, having news of their arrival, was waiting on the deck to welcome his wife and the others. Seeing Frederick place his arm about Anne after he reached the deck (he was the last, of course), the admiral said "Welcome aboard, I take it your mission has met with much success."

The others let Frederick explain, "Yes, as of yesterday, Anne is now Mrs. Wentworth."

"Jolly good," Admiral Croft replied, giving his brother by marriage a congratulatory thump. "It was about time." He turned his attention to Frederick's wife and said "Mrs. Wentworth," nodded his head in acknowledgment, "we very much enjoyed having you with us. I believe you shall be very happy with our captain here. He is a good sort and shall be better still with your love and good counsel I am sure."

"Thank you Admiral." Anne felt suddenly sentimental. This part of her life, traveling with the Crofts, was over. With a catch in her throat, she said "I shall miss you both, and your kind crew as well." She said nothing more, for her eyes felt wet and she thought that her new husband was unlikely to understand if she were to start bawling just then.

Admiral Croft turned back to Captain Wentworth, "Shall you be bringing both women aboard tonight, or shall we keep Mrs. Holmes until you depart on your first patrolling mission?"

Captain Wentworth looked at Mrs. Croft. "It is whatever you shall prefer. My crew ought to have small place made for you now, but whether it is finished yet, I hardly know."

"I shall go with Mrs. Wentworth," Mirabella decided. Mrs. Croft, no matter how much she would miss her friend, was glad of her friend's decision. She thought it would be well for Anne to have a constant companion during the day, and as much as she enjoyed the companionship of the other women, she would be glad to spend more time with her husband.

Some ten minutes later, the Admiral's barge bore the Wentworths and Mrs. Holmes to the Laconia. Once all were aboard, with the crew bringing the trunks up besides, Captain Wentworth's first order of business was to was to speak with his first lieutenant and then, being assured that everything that ought to have been done in his absence was completed, was to gather the crew and announce "Please welcome Mrs. Wentworth to the ship; I expect the greatest of courtesies to be shown to her and her companion, Mrs. Holmes. As Mrs. Wentworth and I wish for all to share in our joy, tomorrow the members of the crew whose names are selected by drawing which is just about to begin, will go ashore tomorrow and obtain good food and drink for us all, for then we shall all celebrate properly. For we all ought to have some merry making before we begin our official patrols in a few days. Soon, there shall be an opportunity for each man to have a chance for shore leave, assuming this first contingent remembers their duty and does the royal navy proud. We will announce all the particulars of how an increased chance can be obtained in the next few days."

The purser had been put in charge of the case which had the preapproved men's names entered and he brought such case forward. Captain Wentworth said, "Eight men shall be selected for tomorrow. Should I draw the names myself or should you prefer that I left that duty to my beautiful wife?"

Much debate ensued, and eventually the matter was put to a vote. Frederick was not sure whether to feel proud when Anne won, or to wonder at the fickle loyalty of his crew by picking someone that they did not know at all, but then of course he recalled that building loyalty for Anne was loyalty to him as well, and perhaps it was well if they thought she had an integral role to play in who would have such a privilege. The names were drawn and with that matter sorted, Captain Wentworth escorted the women to sickbay, as he was wild to get Anne's feet seen to properly.

Anne objected that she could certainly see to her own feet, but in the end deferred to her husband, and Mr. Dash saw to them himself, applying salve, wrapping them well, and ordering that she ought to remain in her cabin off of them until the next evening and then wear the softest slippers she owned. However, the very act of making her way to Captain Wentworth's cabin was enough to have undone much of the good he had done to them, so with Mrs. Holmes's help, Anne was obliged to rewrap them.

Anne stood carefully in her bandaged feet and noted that Captain Wentworth's cabin was only perhaps half the size that the Admiral's had been. Part of this was because section of it near the front was partitioned off with new, unstained wood with a door. Anne's first thought was that it might contain a necessary installed for her use, but it turned out that it had been made into a very small cabin for Mrs. Holmes, one just wide enough to accommodate a narrow bed with storage underneath.

Captain Wentworth apologetically explained, "Space is of course at a premium on any ship, and I did not like to think of any risk that might come to Mrs. Holmes, should she be housed alone."

Mrs. Holmes, who had thought she might sleep upon a pallet in their very room, and have to ignore their marital intimacies, was thrilled to have even such a small private space and she lost no time in telling Captain Wentworth of her pleasure to have such a space.

Captain Wentworth was then obliged to bid the ladies adieu for the moment and suggested that they might wish to rest and he would return when he could. With regret, he left them, but was pleased that Anne would be there when he got back.

A/N: We are close to wrapping things up here. I'll miss the Wentworths and all your kind reviews when we do.