Finally, we are back with some romance part way through this chapter. Enjoy.

39.

Frederick was exhausted by the time he could finally return to his cabin. As he had not allowed Dowdy to resume his duties and had to deal with his first lieutenant's responsibilities in addition to all the additional work of the interviews which now also included investigating whether Dowdy had abused his position of authority besides just engaging in the torture of Daniels, it felt as if he was almost as busy and preoccupied as when they were battling a storm. A storm was not a bad analogy, he mused as he walked toward his cabin, his legs slow and leaden.

Once within, Frederick lighted his lamp and then latched the door behind him. No one was disturbing him further until he needed to be on duty again. He settled himself down on his chair and eyed the pile of mail which still graced his fold-down desk. Given that they were in port, he had not bothered to fold and secure it to the wall. The letter from Anne was still open and his eyes caught the tilt of her cursive and a word or two, even as he folded it up and set it aside. If there was no other word of her, he planned to read it again before bed, to savor it. But first, first, he needed to make some notes regarding the earlier interviews.

Frederick pulled out some paper, his ink pot and his pen, and set to work. Frederick was usually very fastidious about marking his captain's log as every event of significant event took place, and in any event never left the log undone after his day was complete, save for if a serious injury, illness or a storm made it impossible. He knew it was his firm duty to write in his captain's log about all the events of the day, condemn Daniels and set down his plans for convening a court martial, but as long as he did not record the words there still might be some hope of saving Daniels from his fate. Therefore, Frederick left the log unwritten for the moment, but jotted down some further notes of the day which were unrelated to "the incident" and would need to be in the log (who was sick, who had shirked their duties, who was showing promise).

Finally, he put his ink pot away, secured his notes, and turned to the waiting pile of letters on his desk. He let his hopes flare in a way that they may not have done if he had not just had a truly dreadful day. He rested his hope on receiving another letter from Anne, for Anne's words alone could soothe him, Anne's words alone could make him whole, even if just for the moments when her words were before him. Oh how dearly he hoped to have further word of her progress, either from her own hand or from his sister's!

Frederick carefully flipped through his mail, forming a large pile of letters that did not relate Anne; these included letters from his brother, his friends, and even official naval letters. He formed a different pile of letters that could relate to Anne, a letter from his sister and one from Admiral Croft. Finally, and most reverently, he formed a third pile, placing a letter that had to be from Anne to the left of the prior letters, atop her original missive. His fingers itched to open this new letter from Anne right away and burst the wax seal violently, but his naval discipline restrained him, and he proceeded through the rest of the original stack. His patience was rewarded only by the find of a second letter from his sister.

He bound the "non-Anne related" letters with a string and placed them aside in a basket that was hooked upon the wall, to review later. Then he turned his attention to the bounty before him, considering the order in which he should open them. One obvious approach was to immediately dive into the letter from Anne, but no, he should save the best for last, assuming it was the best.

She could not have pledged her love for me and shared her plans to join me only to later repudiate them, could she? That errant thought chilled Frederick, and his hands shook as he briefly considered the possibility before rejecting it. No, the woman who wrote me that letter has proven her loyalty. Yet, there was still a further niggle of doubt. Has she not previously put me aside before on the advice of her godmother? Could not someone still dissuade her?

Frederick could put no stock in his thoughts of doubt. Rationally he felt them to be ridiculous, but still . . . He determined to open the letters from his sister and brother-in-law first. Surely if the worst had come to pass, they would have told him of it. He opened the three letters, put them in the order of their dates and then commenced to reading.

October 7, 1811

Dear Freddy,

I have met your dear Miss Anne and she has exceeded my expectations. I always expected you would chose well, but now I understand why you could never forget her, or she you. She is a very sweet creature to be sure, humble, self-effacing, but with a great capacity for love and a longing for what she has not gained from those who by blood should love her best. As you can be in no doubt, for having I expect opened her letter to you before mine, for what is a sister when compared with a fiancée (assuming they have both reached you at the same mail call, having been sent out with the same post, if some mischief has not sent one away via a circuitous journey or caused it to be lost).

Originally, we were to have sent them together, for it is of course unseemly for a single lady to write to a bachelor man, and she had agreed to such a scheme, but when it was time to send them out her courage was raised and she determined that you would open her letter with even the address written by her own hand. Oh Freddy, none but a woman well and truly in love, and confident in your steadiness of purpose, would have deigned to do such a thing.

She has agreed to the whole scheme and we, Mirabella Holmes (the widow of Captain Holmes, perchance you once crossed paths with him), Anne, and I, are away to join my husband. Hopefully he will gain a destination for us and we will be on our way to you without undue delay.

Happy will be the day when I see your reunion and then watch you marry. A joy so long delayed cannot but be the sweeter for it.

All my love,

Sophia

Frederick read this letter with great joy and satisfaction. All was well. He did not give himself long to reflect on her words before turning to her next letter.

October 12, 1811

Dear Freddy,

We have met my dear John in Portsmouth and seen him formally accept the rank of Admiral with all due pomp. And what do you think the first order of business is for him with his elevated rank? He has determined he shall call in all his debts of honor and good regard from all those of rank he knows in the navy, to arrange that his ship will be one of those to sail to where you are headed, which we have lately learned is Antigua.

I do not think he would act so decisively and with such haste if he did not dearly love you as a brother, and also see as I have that having Anne to wife shall be the making of you. All your achievements thus far are certainly laudable and give you a right to be proud, but she shall make you a better captain to your men, for she shall soften you when you are too harsh, shall support you when you need to confide in someone, and serve your whole crew well for if something needs doing, she will attend to it with all haste.

I shall send a few lines on the day we are to depart, or perhaps have John do it instead.

All my love,

Sophia

With impatience, Frederick drew Admiral Croft's letter to the front and smoothed out the creases.

October 16, 1811

Dear Wentworth,

My Sophy and the other ladies are busy buying some provisions for the journey for they must have better than salt pork and hard tack (I must have better, too, but the variety they seek is more than an old sailor would obtain for himself). Accordingly, I have been taxed with penning you a few lines to tell you that tomorrow we will sail with the morning tide.

When I first met Miss Anne, I wondered how she had charmed you so determinedly for while I certainly saw she has some beauty, I thought her appearance to be nothing out of the ordinary. However, what I soon discovered is that it is her soul, which elevates her into a beatific being. For she is above all, extraordinarily kind, and has a simple earnestness and acts swiftly to help others while troubling no one on her own account. It is rare indeed to meet someone of her caliber and I think few besides my Sophy could be more lovely, now that I know her better.

Miss Anne should suit you well, will be a fine Mrs. Wentworth, and I hope you shall spoil her for I do not think that anyone ever has. A few gifts Sophy made to her, simply some proper clothes for a woman who is to live aboard a ship, and to hear Sophy tell of it Anne was the most grateful of anyone you could imagine for she did not expect anyone to do so much for her and yet she was still thinking of Mrs. Holmes and what could be done for her.

If we do not run into any undue problems, I hope we shall join you sometime near the end of November.

Until then,

John Croft

Frederick leapt to his feet with excitement in learning the date of their departure, "October 17th. October 17th!" It was now November 23rd, and if the voyage had been under ideal conditions, they would have already arrived, but otherwise might be very near indeed, might have spotted Antigua on this day, perhaps might even reach the harbor in a day or two, but if they were becalmed as he had been, or encountered storms or other hazards they might not reach the island until much later, perhaps even be delayed until mid-December.

He hoped that the journey had, was still being, an easy one for Anne's sake, for she had never been aboard a ship and while he could scarcely remember when he had first gone to sea or recall what it was like to feel disordered from the swell of the waves, he could well imagine she might be suffering, even if she would likely be stoic about it. "My dearest Anne," said he, "how much I have asked you to endure for my sake. I hope you shall never regret coming to join me." He kissed the palm of his own hand, while picturing kissing Anne's cheek, and then pressed it against her still sealed letter. "Thank you my love, for coming to me. You have sacrificed so much and I can scarcely think that I deserve it."

Frederick settled himself back down in his chair and taking care not to rip the paper with his eagerness, opened Anne's letter.

(Letter 3)

October 15, 1811

Dear Frederick,

In a day or two we shall finally go out to sea on our way towards you. I admit to having some trepidation, having never sailed anywhere before, and now taking such a long and protracted journey. There shall be no changing my mind, but if I shall be violently sick the entire trip, it would be worth it to be with you again. I have hardly been able to sleep the past few days, for my thoughts are full of you and the future I have so long awaited.

In the still of the night when Mrs. Holmes is softly snoring, my worries rise to the surface. I worry that I am no longer the pretty girl that you recall. I worry that you have built me up in your mind to be someone that I am not.

I am not sure if I could bear it if I reached you and your ship only for you to decide you had been wrong, to have you then determine that you no longer wish to marry me. But should that come to pass, please tell me rather than marrying me just from a sense of duty, of obligation knowing how long I have traveled to reach you.

I could not bear to be tied to you if you were to despise me. Far better it would be to be rejected, than married to a man who does not wish to be married to me, and worse yet, if he were to also dishonor his vows.

I suppose my feelings and anxieties are getting the better of me. Having waited so long to see you again, to have all this happiness set before me, a veritable feast that I can only gaze at yet not yet touch, is difficult.

I have come to love your sister very well indeed, and Mrs. Holmes, too. I do not yet know Admiral Croft well, but I have great respect for him and feel confident trusting him with my life in the coming voyage. It is quite evident how much Mrs. Croft adores him, and I have complete faith in her judgment.

Do you suppose, do I ask too much in enquiring whether it would be possible for Mrs. Holmes to live on your ship, too? She is lonely and unappreciated in living with her family, and we have formed a very steady friendship. There is nothing left for her on land, for her only son serves as a midshipman now, and she sails with us to meet you. I know she would be happier living with us or your sister than sailing away with us and then returning to England's shores.

I selfishly wish to keep her and her friendship for myself. And would it not be most practical, if some day I should become with child, to have another woman on board who could assist me? Please, just consider the matter. I have said nothing to her of this desire of mine, for I do not wish to disappoint her or obligate you.

I have been thinking that at times it must be very lonely to be a captain, to have all that responsibility resting upon your shoulders, for who can you confide in aboard a ship? There are of course rules to guide you, and expectations of what you should do, but a good man must bend the rules on occasion if it be required by his conscience. Other times, of course, you must do what is required, even if it does not seem quite right, trusting that those that have set the rules have good reasons for them. What burdens these must be to carry! I hope that when I join you I might be able to ease the strain of such burdens, if only a little.

I must turn in soon, for tomorrow we rise early as Mrs. Croft is anxious to shop for all the items she believes are essential for our journey. I wish you pleasant dreams when you next take yourself abed, and wish we could share the same dream when we are both asleep.

I always wish to dream of the night you proposed for I can yet remember running outside through the flower garden hand in hand and finding ourselves quite all alone beneath the oak tree, and above it the moon and stars. I never could have anticipated how right it felt to be tucked within your embrace. You were like the oak tree yourself, mighty and bold. But as much as I wish it, that memory has never returned to me in my dreams, at least not so that I can recall it.

Perhaps I should feel ashamed of what we shared before you asked for my hand, but in truth I do not. It is only from knowing the violence of your affections then, that I have sustained myself in all the intervening years. How much more wonderful it will be to be your wife, to be pressed up against you every night, when nothing and no one can separate us save for death. I shall hold to the promise of having many, many years with you before such a thing could come to pass.

All my love,

Anne

"Oh, my dearest Anne!" Frederick exclaimed after he had read the final lines as closed by her signature. "Such a pure and noble soul you are, yet you have shared with me your remembrance of the one time we let passion reign between us and seem to welcome its repetition. What more could a man want from his wife?

"Anne, whether the passing years have been good to your visage or not, I could never reject you, for you will always be beautiful in my sight. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I shall seek out the priest and buy a common license, for I cannot imagine seeing you and not getting to immediately claim you as my wife. It would be unsupportable for me, and I dare say you as well.

"Well, I suppose I still need to sort out things regarding Daniels and Dowdy. You are well right that such decisions weigh on me and I very much wish you were here with me now so that I could seek your wisdom, for though I know what the Articles require it does not seem just, not just at all. The rules are to help maintain order, to keep those of lower ranking from disrespecting the officers, but Daniels is so well respected and his actions an aberration and no one is much hurt. I think they could forgive and forget, all but Dowdy, yet he never got caned by him, and was instead the one who hurt him. Oh it is all a conundrum. I must speak to the lads, if they will but speak to me. Oh Anne, if you could but come to me in a dream and help me know what to do!"

Frederick wanted to read all the letters again, most importantly the ones from Anne, but he was bone tired and had very little left in him after the upheavals of the day. So he snuffed the oil lamp and took himself off to bed. Naturally, enough, sleep would not come.

As has been said before, Frederick was not a religious man and seldom thought to pray, but on this night perhaps two hours after he took himself to bed, he turned to the only one who could help him, praying simply, "God, give me wisdom to do what is right, and please bring Anne to me as soon as you might." With the shred of peace that granted him, perhaps forty-five minutes later, he finally fell into a deep and restorative sleep.

A/N: I've got to end it there, but I hope to have Anne and Frederick meet in person in the next chapter. Squeeeeeeeee! Remember, reviews help motivate me to write.