River Street

As angry as she was, Anne was able to gather her bag and gloves with a great deal of composure. All the while, Lady Russell endeavored to reason with her and explain why she had spoken so frankly on such an unspeakable subject. "You must be reasonable, Anne. I only wanted you to understand that in this, he may have notions of which you cannot even begin to understand! I only tell you this, hoping that you will not be as shocked and undone as I when I married."

Anne straightened as she pulled on her gloves and glowering at her friend, she spoke quickly, "I thank you for your concern in this matter, but I have Frederick's assurances in it and chuse to believe him. I am sorry that your experience has given you alarm concerning me, I am sure that it was very painful for you and Sir Russell to overcome these misapprehensions of one another. Now, I must go. I find I need a little air. Thank you again for your concern. Good morning." Before Lady Russell could touch the bell, Anne let herself out the door and into the hallway.

"I hope Anne is not excessively shocked and that the Captain is not inordinately . . . knowledgeable," said Lady Russell as she listened to Anne's leaving. Lady Russell had wished to speak to Anne in a kindly, motherly way. It was to be the talk that all caring mothers would give their daughters at this time in their lives. A talk which helped to allay the fears and still told the truth of marriage and its intimacies. Lady Russell also wished to have Anne understand that a man in Captain Wentworth's profession had been exposed to many ways of men and women that were not spoken of in any but the lowest of societies, that his expectations might be quite shocking to the daughter of a country gentleman. As an officer of the Army, her own dear husband had been far more acquainted with the world than she and had been less than tactful in expressing his desires for her. They had long struggled with these matters and there were times it had threatened to choke off all love she had for him. She had no desire for Anne to experience such a painful dilemma. Her thinking had been if the girl, at the very least, had a warning of this possibility, there might not be such shock and a feeling of ill-use. There had been no talking to Anne, she was determined that the Captain had been constant in the past eight and a half years and that the time before did not matter. Lady Russell hoped with all her heart that Anne's faith would be rewarded.

Standing before the door, tying her bonnet, Anne knew that she had been extremely rude in her quitting of Lady Russell, but she could not bear listening to more. dispite her anger and hurt, Anne knew that the admonition was for her good. Her friend had not meant to accuse her fiancé, the advice was given her as caution of things that she herself had thought. The differences in her and Frederick's situations in life had become frequent food for thought, and what Lady Russell had talked of was all a part of the repast. As their wedding day came closer, the fear of him and the desire for him were both strong and each in their own way were playing havoc with her heart.

The small park across from the house on River Street provided a peaceful spot to await Anne's departure from Lady Russell. A clear and sunny March day in Bath was a commodity not to be wasted. The bench Frederick had chosen was out of the way, but in keeping with a view of the Lady's front door. He stretched his legs and crossing them at the ankles, he leaned back on the bench while putting his mind to him and Anne's wedding. Only two more days and on the morning of March 25, 1815, they would be united by marriage. Nearly nine years of separation and misapprehension would come to a close. He felt blessed to have a second opportunity at happiness with her. Not many men who had made his sorts of blunders were able to ever recover. In the midst of this reflection, he saw the door open and Anne take her leave of the house. She took no look around, but turned directly to the left and moved quickly away, most likely to her home in Camden Place.

Frederick rose from the bench and crossed the street. Walking more quickly than she, he caught her in several strides, "May I offer you an escort home, m'lady," he said with a wide smile and the offer of his arm.

She was deep in thought and he had startled her. She stopped and looked at him. The look was one of anger that soon moved to a deep blush. "I cannot see you just now, I must be home," she said as she turned and began to walk quickly away.

"Miss Anne?" He was mindful of the public street they were on, though everything in him desired to call her something more.

Stopping, she turned. "Captain, please. I must insist that you allow me to go home–unattended."

He was taken by surprise at the tone in her addressing him as Captain. When they were alone, she would use the term in jest. Often pairing it with, noble or gallant to highlight some folly of his that looked to be the contrary of these qualities. On this occasion, it was being used as formal address and with an indefinable quality to it.

People were passing, some looking, and he knew this would only bring embarrassment to a circumstance already uneasy. He was unable to think of anything he had done or said lately that might cause this. They had in fact, dined together with Lady Russell the evening before and all had seemed well. That meant that something about Anne's morning visit with her friend was the impetus for all this agitation. Something, possibly involving himself. "Please, take my arm as far as ____Avenue and if you are still insistent on going alone, I shall bid you a good morning," he said. He only hoped that several blocks would be enough time to plumb for some answers.

"I suppose it will do no harm, for only these few blocks. But no more," she said emphatically. She lightly took his arm, there was none of the usual comfort or ease that had developed over the weeks. They set off down the street, with Frederick setting the pace as slowly as practical, to give himself time.

"I cannot tell who is the recipient of the greater part of your anger, Lady Russell or myself," he said, sounding as unaffected as possible. As he calmly spoke, his stomach churned. They were not married yet and there was still time for disruption.

The look about her eyes softened. "It is not you. Lady Russell has said some things that have quite upset me, and I struck out at you. I am sorry," she said sincerely. There was still an expression on her face he could not read and so decided to probe further, hoping to put an end to her distress.

"I hope this does not concern me. My impression was that the Lady's opinion of me had risen tolerably. Last evening she was most solicitous and amiable in my presence. I would not like to think it all a show." He hoped to keep her in conversation, then perhaps a reaction would give him an idea as to her cast of mind.

"Oh, it has, markedly. Really Frederick, this is not anything that I can speak of with you. It would not be proper, and I am not comfortable having you with me just now. I shall take my leave. Good morning," she said as she started to take her hand from his arm. He had been holding that hand with his own and now refused to release her.

"And it would not be proper of you to break our understanding to walk with me. We are still some distance from ____Avenue, and I intend we should finish," he said. They stood looking at one another for a moment. She did not struggle to free her hand, he took this to mean she was willing to continue and this gave him hope that a resolution was to be found.

"Dearest," he said in a low tone. "I believe this does concern me. What troubles me is the fact you say it is not a proper subject for us to talk of." They walked slowly on; he, trying to think of ways to cause an unburdening and she, endeavoring to order her thoughts and put out of her mind things said by Lady Russell. "We have had more than our share of misconstruction in the past . . . chiefly owing to me," he said glancing down at her. "I believe we must strive more than most to keep the decks clear, so to speak." Frederick nodded to a casual acquaintance passing. "So, what think you?"

"I think you are most likely correct. Our decks, so to speak, should remain clear." she said in a quiet voice.

"Since you have left the Lady Russell in such a state, I assume the difficulty lies with her and not I?"

"Yes." Anne hesitated, she could not say, that while the difficulty lay with Lady Russell, the difficulty was about him. The subject was not only painful, but embarrassing. But, as she had said, the decks must be cleared. "She has taken it upon herself to remind me of the time and distance between our first engagement and now. That there have been many things happen in each of our lives, many places . . . many people."

Frederick said nothing. While it angered him that Lady Russell would importune Anne with what he suspected to be some sort of warning about him, he would not make the mistakes of the past. This would be dealt with in a calm and rational manner. He was determined to be alert. "By people, might she mean . . . women?"

"Yes. She thinks me naive in believing your declaration of complete constancy to me. She believes that were it even possible, you were at sea a long while before you and I knew one another and that that life would have been lived with no thought for the future. Her concern is that I realise you . . . are more . . . knowledgeable in things than I," she said. Her voice grew lower and more disheartened as she said the words.

"Then you believe her?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could.

"I do not wish to. I know it naive to believe that a young man at sea would be . . . would keep himself from . . . " she paused, "I want to believe your letter. She said you most likely meant you were constant in your thoughts or your heart, but not your . . . ," she stopped.

"Not in my . . . person." He stopped and turned to look in a shop window, he continued. "Here we are at ___Avenue. I propose a new understanding. We shall continue our walk, you only need listen as I speak. Since we will be strolling, there will be no need to look to one another. I fear this may become embarrassing for each of us in its own way. Have we a compact?" He looked at her one last time as he awaited her answer.

"Yes," she said with hesitation, her eyes nervously straying away from his.

Beginning to walk again, they joined others on the sidewalk delighting in the warm, sunny day. Clearing his throat, Frederick began, "I am very glad that I decided to surprise you today. Had I not, this would have been something between us always. I know you, my girl. You would have gone home and thought this out, accepting what Lady Russell said and silently forgiving me all the while doubting my fidelity toward you. As our vows were said, you would wonder if I only meant "I do," in my thoughts or my heart, but not my person." He glanced sideways and saw that her expression bespoke that very thing.

Frederick took a deep breath as he prepared to broach a subject that was going to be as difficult for him to speak of as it would be for her to hear. "This subject will require that I tell you a bit about my growing up, if that is all right?" She nodded in agreement. "You remember my brother, Edward?" She again nodded. "Well, he, with great conviction and fervor, embraced the church when I was nearly fifteen. In doing so, reading the Scriptures to me daily became a routine. He did it a mealtime, so there was no escape for me. He would read and then we would discuss. Edward was always clear that I must understand what was read, he did not allow for just listening and then forgetting. At first I was sullen, but as reluctant as I was, he made things interesting, and I began to learn, and it stopped being something to escape and more a time for him and me to engage in a bit of verbal sparring. I had been nominally at sea for over a year, going out now and again for a few weeks at a time, then coming home and was certain that I knew everything there was to know about life and the world. Edward was patient, but there were times in our debates he would flatten me and show me how little I did know." Stealing a look at her, he saw that had brought a smile.

"Then came the day that I, at all of sixteen, while trying to show out about some things I had been told, made a blasphemous remark having to do with a particular passage in Ephesians that was the read for that day. I shall never forget, Ephesians five, verse twenty-two." The words were said with the precision of something unforgettable and he sighed as he shook his head in remembrance of the day. "The verse likens the relationship of the Church and Christ to that of a man and wife. I popped off with a very coarse comment, and for the next three and one-half hours, my dear brother, Edward, set about amending not only my theology, but my . . . in his words, 'crude and profane notions of intimacy.'" Frederick's tone had been humourously imitative of his brother, though the conversation had been significant in its effect.

They strolled on further up the avenue. Both contemplating what had been said and pondering what would be said next.

"Shall I continue, or is this too . . . disquieting?" he asked in a hushed tone.

While the topic itself was disquieting, what he had said to this point was not terribly unsuitable. "Yes, please continue," she said, keeping her voice well modulated.

"Edward made it clear to me that a woman is an extraordinary creation for the man she marries . . . but only him. With that being the case, it was my responsibility to keep my . . . passions under control, I could not to be controlled by them, or I was not better than a beast." He was silent for a moment, remembering how he had protested the notion of being a beast for following one's desires. The argument had not impressed his brother and had only led to a long discourse on the vast differences between men and beasts. Bringing himself back to the conversation, "I thought that a bit harsh until I was at sea, with men away from home for months, men free to . . . indulge themselves without fear of being found out. I then saw how true it was. I also saw the consequences in some of the men." Frederick decided not to tell Anne of all the diseased and incurables he had witnessed, the blindness and madness, the decrepitude. These were things he decided to spare her. They walked quietly along for a time.

"Your brother was very enlightened," she said, keeping her eyes looking straight ahead.

"Edward has always had a strong desire for the truth, which I cannot fault. He was very clear about these things with me. When I left him to go to sea, his voice was never far from me. Oh, I stopped my ears at times and I tried many things he had endeavored to warn me off . . . public drunkenness . . . gaming, at which I lost heavily, . . . and there were other equally witless pursuits. But never women. Edward's voice in my mind made any thought of seduction short-lived indeed. He put the fear of God in me by telling me that I would be held very much accountable for my actions; I suppose if natural obedience will not suffice, then the threat of hellfire to keep one on the straight and narrow will have to do." While he now felt differently, there had been times when that threat of hellfire had been the only impediment.

"You are quite a theologian, my dear," she said, trying to ease the weightiness of what he had been saying.

"No, I shall leave theology to my brother, he is much more suited for it than I. We are almost finished with this, just a bit more to go and then we can put this uncomfortable conversation away, I promise. And so, after I had fallen in love with you, there was never another woman who had any appeal. It was not that opportunity did not present itself from time to time." He hesitated; this would be an admission he did not wish to make, but thought it best. "I wish I could say that I have always kept my thoughts . . . completely . . . upright. It is very nearly impossible below deck. If it is not talk by the other men it is . . ." He left the thought hanging. There was no need to talk of the "wives" that some men took and were allowed on board in port, or of others hiding women in the cable tier, hoping to keep them secret from the officers. "There is also activity ashore that one cannot help witnessing." He held her arm tighter, hoping she would understand his struggle in this. "While I never participated in anything . . . inappropriate myself, I heard more than enough stories to know precisely what was done. Most things too repulsive to think on. . . ." They continued on their way, crossing a street to her side of Camden Place. "I must tell you that when I left Somerset, all other women were quite ruined for me. I sometimes felt as if I was at a banquet, beautifully set, but as I began to look about, there was nothing . . . appetizing. Either the dishes had no appeal at all or they looked well until you began to . . . study them and then you found they were of very inferior quality." It was over and he hoped that he had not upset her far worse than when they had begun.

There was much to consider in the things he had said. More than she had actually cared to know, but to understand his life, she must know his struggles. After thinking about his notion of a banquet, she countered with, "Though the food is unappealing, a very hungry man will partake, if that is the only means to satisfy his need . . . of food." As she said it, she realised that he might feel she doubted him, that had not been her desire.

Her quick mind had taken the analogy further than he had intended. Feeling that the only means left to him was blunt honesty. "That is true. You have made it impossible to avoid my saying this outright. Anne, I have never taken any woman to my bed. I may have heard and seen things which you have not, but in my physical being, you and I are the same. We shall learn this aspect of our marriage, together; neither of us with more . . . I think you can understand what I mean." A breeze had begun to blow and it helped to relieve some of the warmth such a perturbing conversation had brought.

They were nearly to the door of Camden Place. She was glad of this because she had many thoughts to consider and his presence now was beginning to be disturbing in other ways. Holding tightly to his arm, hoping he would hear and understand her, she said, "Frederick, I am sorry I forced this from you. Not sorry that I know, but sorry I allowed Lady Russell to undermine my confidence in you. I am ashamed of my lack of constancy in this matter."

They were at her door and she turned and looked at him for the first time. She was sure that his flushed appearance quite matched any colour the heat in her cheeks was manifesting. For such an improper conversation, it had brought her a great deal of satisfaction. What a wonderful gift to be given, the knowledge that you, and you alone hold such a singular place in another person's life. In giving her this, to her mind he had shown more love and care for her than in most anything he had done over the past month since his proposal. Reluctantly she admitted, "It is time for us to part. I imagine we both have much to think about in this matter. Will you return later and we can walk together?"

"I shall return at two o'clock and we can have a quiet walk with no more elaborate revelations. Do we have an understanding?" he asked as he smiled at her. He was enjoying the look of her flushed countenance, and hopefully the ease of mind it reflected.

"Two o'clock it is." she said in an ordinary tone. Anne took a step closer and whispered, "Thank you. I love you, Frederick." She turned quickly and entered the house, leaving him to ponder what had just passed between them. It had been worth the embarrassment of the subject to put her mind at rest. Now the only thing left for him was to concentrate, with much energy, on Edward's lectures about self-control.

A Family Dinner
A Street In Bath

Anne had tired of Frederick's conversation. He had spoken of little else besides his brother, Edward and Edward's wife, Catherine. Much of the morning and the early afternoon had been dedicated to reminiscences about his brother's care of him when he was a boy in Liverpool. How in his early years in the Navy, when Edward was a curate, his out of the way parishes had always been safe havens when Frederick was put ashore for short periods. But mostly, he spoke of his time with them over the winter. He had gone to Shropshire in order to separate himself from Louisa Musgrove and all that he had brought about involving her. He had also gone in hopes of ordering his thoughts concerning Anne.

Much of Anne's dismay had come with his descriptions of Mrs. Wentworth. Everything he related made her sound to be the highest perfection in a woman; bright, a charming sense of humour, clever with words, slow to anger, a woman with little pretension of herself; a woman that without realising, makes all others inferior. I wish I were not to meet her as the nervous bride-to-be, Anne thought anxiously. I love Mrs. Croft, but no doubt the two of them are closely knit. They have not spent vast amounts of time together, but long letters make for deep friendships in women and it will take a while for them to allow me in.

" . . . and then she said, 'We were just discussing, "garden architecture."' It was awfully clever of her, but Edward was not as dull as we had thought and told me later he knew something was afoot." Noticing her distracted look, he called in teasing tone, "Ahoy! Miss Elliot! I do believe that you missed the entire story," he said. His fiancée had been preoccupied for some time, the faraway look on her face told him that no matter what the story, it would not be heard by her. "I do not think that you have heard a word I have said most of the day. What is wrong?"

"Frederick, there is nothing wrong. I heard every word you said. You were speaking of, 'garden architecture.' While it is not a subject I thought would interest a man who spends considerable time living on the water, if it is of interest to you, I shall endeavor to speak knowledgeably on the subject. Now, tell me more." She tightened her grasp of his arm as they continued to walk. It had turned rainy, a bit of a disappointment after such a glorious day previous, but a good umbrella gave its own kind of pleasure. They were taking their usual, circuitous route to his sister's house on Gay Street. They had found that her home at Camden Place and his on Gay Street were much too close to carry on a satisfactory conversation and so had fashioned for themselves a pleasant, interesting and round about way from one to the other. It afforded them time to themselves, which was a precious commodity and an excuse for being so much gone from their respective homes and the company of their respective families.

This evening was to be very special, not only was it the last night either of them would be single, but Sophia had planned a special dinner for just the Croft and Wentworth families. While the dinner would only have six in attendance, it may as well have been a hundred for the case nerves that Anne was suffering, since this also meant that Anne would be meeting, "Mrs. Wentworth" for the first time. The Edward Wentworths had arrived the previous day, but were not to appear until the dinner, to give Mrs. Wentworth time to rest from travelling from Shropshire. Anne could see that Frederick was very anxious to see them again and hence all the talk of them that day.

"Perhaps we will discuss this again when we have a garden of our own, my dear. You are rather distracted today, would you care to tell me why?" As the days to their wedding had progressed one-by-one, he had noticed that she was more and more preoccupied. While his thoughts were becoming more and more clear, hers were becoming more divided.

Giving him a thin smile, Anne said, "I suppose, in the interest of cleared decks, I must tell you that all this talk of your sister-in-law has me a bit nervous. You have made her to be quite untouchable as a woman."

Frederick scowled, "How have I done that? If there is a woman I think quite sensible and down to earth, it would be Catherine Wentworth. Have I really made her to be so . . . superior?" It bothered him greatly that he could have done such a disservice to his brother's wife; she of all people would be the least likely to be untouchable or to think more highly of herself than she ought.

"Well dear, you have made her to be quite funny and clever and amiableand kind and after all of that, she makes your brother happier than you have ever seen him. She sounds to me to be quite a woman of accomplishment. One who can make me a bit nervous, having to measure up to her and all."

"There will be no measuring up, Anne. Catherine is a gracious woman who will love you on first blush."

"What you do not understand, Frederick is that Mrs. Wentworth and Mrs. Croft have most likely a very deep and abiding friendship that will have to accommodate a stranger . . . me. They have so much in common, their husbands are older and they are all nearer in age. Your sister is sanguine just as Mrs. Wentworth sounds to be, and there will be a natural affection between them.

Meanwhile, at the White Hart Inn, Mrs Wentworth was reciting to her husband: "There will be a natural sympathy towards Miss Anne on Sophy's part. The very young woman who is to marry your brother, and she, an older, widely travelled naval wife. That is another thing! Both the Admiral and the Captain in the Navy, that gives them more in common. Here I am, the expectant wife of a country rector; not much in common there!"

Catherine looked at Edward's reflection in the mirror they were sharing. Her natural inclination to look for the good had failed them early in the day, comforting words were being met with every objection.

Buttoning his top button, Edward said, "Good G*d, Catherine. You make Miss Anne to be just barely out of the cradle! As I recall, she is just your age, less five, hardly a babe in leading strings!" Winding the blue silken stock about his collar, he continued, "As for them both being wives of sailors, while Sophia has been sailing the seven seas, Miss Ann has lived in a very small, country society." He turned to his wife, pointed to the stock and she took up the rest of the bow. "I dare say that in some ways you have more in common with Miss Elliot than my sister."

Finishing with the stock, Catherine primped and straightened the collar and shoulders. Putting her arms suddenly around him, she cried, "I am sorry! You are anxious to see them all again and here I am, weeping and wailing about nothing at all." Taking her arms from him, she went to the trunk and removed her box of jewelry. There was not much, but for the dinner she had begged a necklace of golden ivy leaves that was her sister, Emily's. Her small rope of pearls was to be saved for the wedding. "Help me with this, please." Edward came and fastened the necklace.

Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her and looked her up and down. His glance stopped for a fraction at her middle. The baby was growing daily and becoming more obvious, and he knew that was some of her agitation. There had been a thoughtless comment at a stop to change horses that any intelligent woman, in such a condition would never think to travel. She had said nothing, but he knew it had worked on her. The midwife had told her that she had obviously miscounted when she had found herself with child, since she was larger than she should be at five months and a half, but Catherine was adamant that that could not be. An acquaintance of Dr. Abernathy's, a male accoucheur had raised other possibilities, but they had been dismissed roundly. Catherine had little confidence in a male midwife, much less one who was French.

"You look lovely, my darling. Turkey red is your colour." Gathering her into his arms, he touched the necklace and said, "This sets off that beautiful neck and if it were not for seeing my family again, I would gladly stay here and gaze upon your beauty all night." He felt a pang of regret as he said this, for there would be nothing but gazing on her for yet another five months when the baby would be born and her confinement done.

Catherine rolled her eyes, but flushed nonetheless. "A lovely thought indeed, but as you say, there is your family to consider." She laid her head on his shoulder and vowed that she would do her best to forget all that was roiling at home and endeavor to make the evening wonderful for him and his family.

In a fine house on Gay Street, a familiar conversation was being had. "I will make this the loveliest of evenings as far as I am able, but I still am a bit undone at the prospect of entertaining these ladies." Sophia Croft scrutinised herself in the mirror, seeing an older woman who would have little in common with a young woman married but a year and a few days and Miss Anne to be married on the morrow.

"An evening arranged by you is always lovely, my dear. I just do not understand this sudden case of nerves. Perhaps you can help me in that? These girls are your sisters and both are fine women, why the agitation?" The Admiral was trying on a new suit coat which he was to wear to the wedding the next morning. It fit well, but he was beginning to regard the colour as too light. Taking it off, he hung it and put on his favorite brown tweed. If Sophy was to be in a bad way that evening, the least he could do for himself was to be comfortable.

"I am just nervous that I will have nothing to say to the two of them together. They are both daughters of prosperous country gentlemen. They both are widely read and like prose and poetry. For all love, I occasionally read a novel! And rather sensational ones at that!"

Rising from the dressing table, she went to the Admiral and pretended to brush at his coat. As she reached up to set his hair right, he took her hand and kissed her palm, holding her hand to his heart, he said, "I have seen you charm the wife of the First Lord of the Admiralty one evening and then the next talk very friendly with the wife of the most stupid of landsmen aboard. You have nothing to fear from these ladies, they are most likely a bit skittish themselves."

While he did not understand the feelings of his wife, he had seen the same in his own family when they all came together after being apart for so long. He had also seen that it only took a few moments of good conversation to set everything aright and then the evening would go forward in comfort.

Later, the evening did not begin with early moments of good conversation and then proceed in comfort. The ladies all were smiling and looked very happy to be in company together. Once it had been established that the roads to Bath had been abominable and that the last four miles nearly did the Wentworths in and that the glass rising was a good sign for the wedding in the morning with the ride to Aldengate following, there was not much to converse upon. The gentlemen all being privy to the unease of their respective consort, looked nervously to their watches, awaiting the call to the table.

Being called to the table had opened many avenues of conversation. As the soup course was bouillabaisse, various opinions on where the best to be had were given; some for France itself, others in favor of the Catalans and their particular rendering. This lead to other impartations on likes and dislikes in foods and stories of strange and exotic foods eaten in strange and exotic locales. With each remove, the comfort of each, especially the ladies, was growing. The awkwardness of the evening's beginning was slowly being forgotten.

It had been agreed by the Crofts that the gentlemen would forgo the customary retirement to brandy and cigars, staying with the ladies in the dining room. The last of the meal and dishes were cleared, the cloth was drawn and glasses with cordial appeared for the ladies and port for the men was brought. As the glasses were filled, Edward rose to give a toast as Sophia had asked.

"When it was determined that Catherine and I would, indeed, travel to Bath for this wedding, Sophia asked that I make a toast at this time. I agreed and then set about to find the properest things to say. I thought about the graces extended to my sister and brother and I, how we have been carried through some very deep waters and come out the other side better and stronger for it. I thought about our lives now and how we have each been blessed with happiness beyond measure. I thought about marriage and how it is chief reason for gathering tonight and that, perhaps, it should comprise most of my comments, and yet, while all of these were worthy of a toast, as I have sat here through this meal and we have talked and come closer once more after so many years apart, I looked about the table and found that the major part of that happiness and closeness can be laid at the feet of the women at this table." As he spoke, he smiled to each lady. "I see my sister, Sophia. The girl who was never afraid to tell me when I was wrong, even when I was not!" Everyone laughed, especially the Admiral. "A woman who has loved her husband enough to abandon a settled life ashore and accompany him under conditions which are more than many men can bear. To be his helper and to love him through it all. A woman who has never done anything by a half and most likely, never will." He looked at his sister and kissed his hand to her. "I look at my own dear wife. A woman that will, one day, understand her worth to me and to this family. A woman who began as a friendly neighbor, who took pity on a shy man who did not dance and made him feel quite welcome to the district. A woman who I looked on with eyes of friendship," as he said these things his voice began to crack, "and one day God allowed me to see with the eyes of love and to awaken each day, thankful and quite aware that I do not deserve such a blessing." He bent and kissed Catherine's flushed cheek. Standing again, he toasted Miss Anne. "And, I see the woman who will wed my brother tomorrow. The woman who will add immeasurably to his worth. A woman I met before my brother ever came to Somerset. Upon meeting her, and seeing such a sweet temperament and fine mind, I thought to myself, 'She will make some man an excellent wife.' Little did I suspect that after much time and many trials, that man would be my own dear brother. Welcome to our family, Miss Anne." He was silent for a moment to collect his thoughts and order his words. Lifting his glass, he began, "In the tradition of the sea, after the meal is through, the cloth is drawn and the port is passed, I wish to propose a toast." He raised his glass and at this the Admiral and the Captain rose, for what they knew was to come. "To the King."

"To the King," they chorused. The glasses were drained and the port was passed to refill.

"To our wives. The greatest gift ever given a man and may we always be worthy of them. To our wives."

"Hear! Hear! To our wives." And the glasses were drained in toast to the ladies.

After dinner, Frederick had found his brother standing outside, having left the rest in the sitting room. The night was clear, but cold. Edward stood silently drawing on the pipe that he was smoking. The Captain could not help thinking of Patrick McGillvary and his penchant for a pipe and how he had various ones secreted away everywhere he spent time. "So, when did you take that back up?"

Edward started a bit, he had been deep in thought and study of the stars; he had not expected to be looked for much less found. "Oh, about a month ago. Dr. Abernathy told me to slow my mind for a time each day, and this is as good an excuse as any to sit quietly for a bit. It takes so blessed long to get one to draw," he said as he turned it to look at it objectively. "Catherine likes it, when I have it lit she can always find me."

"And do you need finding often? Have you taken to hiding out?" Frederick had seen the distance in his brother's eyes since they had come in the door, things were working on Edward's mind and his separating himself on such a joyous family occasion was the proof of it.

"Hiding out? No! No hiding out, just being given to thought, a bit more than usual, that is all." Turning away from the sky and towards his brother, he said, "I have forgotten to say that Mr. and Mrs. Junkins wish you all the joy of the world and that they look forward to you and your lovely bride coming for a visit soon." He wished he could share his mind with his brother of the scurrilous rumours making the rounds about Beatrice Junkins and to ask his advice in how to put an end to such viciousness. But, on the eve of a long awaited wedding was not the time for that. "And, I have a gift from Dr. Abernathy. I will have to fetch it." Leaving Frederick for a moment, he returned with a small box, wrapped in wax-cloth against the damp. "I am not certain that the cloth is to keep the damp in or out. With Abernathy it would be difficult to guess." Both laughed at this knowing that Dr. Abernathy was a rather odd duck and that nearly anything could be in the box.

Upon untying the string and freeing the wax-cloth to fall to the ground, a note was found between it and the box. Frederick held it up to gain light from the library window. He read:

Love is like a red, red rose and when my Uncle Clive showed me how he made these, (they are all the latest rage in town), I thought of you and your upcoming marriage. It is made of pulled sugar and like the real flower will not last long, but its beauty justifies its having. Captain, I wish you and Miss Elliot all joy and happiness. M. Abernathy

"Well, it is good to know that Uncle Clive is still plying the candy trade."

Edward looked at Frederick a moment, and said, "I was not aware that you knew his uncle."

"I do not, it is a little jest on my part. Well, shall we see what this is?" Opening the box, and pushing aside the oiled paper, there lay a red rose as perfect as any that nature had ever produced. "It looks like glass," Frederick said in a tone of sheer admiration. Rewrapping the rose, and closing the box, he said, "I must show this to Anne. I shall return presently."

Turning back to the stars, Edward contemplated creation and his place in it, And such a small place it is.

"There you are, Edward! I had thought you a deserter." The Admiral said as he clapped his brother-in-law on the arm. The Admiral loved Edward, even if he was a clergyman and therefore someone that would be bad luck to have on a ship at sea. They had had many spirited conversations, and he had to concede that the Reverend was one of the few religious men he knew who lived what he said he believed.

Turning to smile, Edward said, "Never in life, sir. Just seeing what the stars are about tonight. I found myself wanting the strangest thing the other evening, shall I tell you what it was?"

The Admiral was surprised, as Edward was not given to personal impartations with him. "Certainly, tell away."

"I wish to see the Southern Cross from the sea again."

The silence stood unbroken for a few moments. The Admiral had never fully understood Edward's aversion to the sea. He knew that as a young man, his brother-in-law had sailed a good many years, but turned from it and lived in the West Indies for a time and then had returned to England to care for Sophia and Frederick at the death of their parents. The Admiral had not known that Edward had ever sailed in the southern hemisphere and now for him to say he wished to see the Southern Cross again, especially from sea was a bit startling.

"I must say, knowing your feelings about the sea, I am shocked to hear you say such a thing."

"Your shock is no greater than my own, brother. No greater than my own."

Before anything more could be said by either gentleman, Frederick rejoined them after taking Anne the rose from Dr. Abernathy. "She was delighted with his gift. She has said it will be placed on the table at Lady Russell's tomorrow for the breakfast." After explaining to Croft the gift, the giver and the maker, Frederick proposed, "Shall we join the ladies, they seemed to be a little quiet." It had not occurred to Frederick that perhaps his sister and sister-in-law were subject to the same pangs that Anne had experienced earlier.

"I do not wonder Catherine's quiet, she was quite undone by the thought of coming tonight. As we prepared for the evening, she sat, enumerating all the reasons why Sophia and Miss Anne would have no use for her at this dinner. She sounded so disheartened. Either women are much more vicious of character than I know and abuse one another horribly, thus giving my wife a cause to be wary, or women are always feeling like the dog in the manger, I am not certain which it is." Edward said as he knocked the last of the tobacco out of the pipe. "So, was Miss Anne rattled about meeting Catherine or was she sensible?"

Frederick laughed as he too recounted a conversation along the lines of the one just described. " . . . and she was quite convinced that Sophia and Catherine are thick as thieves and that the chances of her being accepted into such close society are nonexistent. It must be females. I have not noticed that men are such. Ah! Croft! You have been married longer than anyone else alive, was Sophia in the least bothered by the prospect of having Anne and Catherine here this evening?" The Admiral had been pondering Edward's revelation, but had caught enough of the conversation to know just what the jist was.

"Good G*d, she was nearly beside herself. That woman has been my wife for going on sixteen years and I have never seen her so undone as this afternoon at the prospect of your intended," nodding to Frederick. "And your good wife," nodding to Edward, "coming into this house to have a meal and become better acquainted. You would have thought that the Regent himself was to put his feet under our table."

"Well, my brother and I have determined it must be something in women, for men are not that way. I suppose, to be merciful, we should hasten back in so they are not forced to merely look at one another with nothing to say." In preparation of just that, Edward put his now cooled pipe in a pouch and deposited it in his pocket.

The Admiral said, "They must have found something to chat about, when I came by the sitting room, I heard quite an outburst of female laughter."

Frederick replied, "Come to think of it, when I entered the room, the silence came about rather quickly, like I should not hear what was being said."

The three gentlemen looked at one another. All had the same thought at the same time. All had the same fear at the same time.

"Gentlemen, if we rejoin the ladies speedily, the damage should be kept to a minimum. Shall we?" The Admiral lead the way to the sitting room. As he was about to put his hand to the door, another of the afore mentioned outbursts of female laughter met their ears. Croft put his ear to the door, but could hear nothing. "Edward, come up here. You have not years of cannon-fire in your ears, what is being said?"

Edward looked at his brothers and said in a low, but vehement voice, "This is spying! I am a man of the cloth, I cannot snoop at doorways!" Just then the laughter came again and this time he could distinguish Catherine's in particular. Pressing his ear to what he judged the thinnest part of the door, he listened.

Frederick whispered, "What is being said?"

Edward waved his hand for quiet, he began to smile and relay what he was hearing his sister say.

"And so we were becalmed for weeks, not a breath of air stirring for days. There was nothing to do, but wait. Waiting for the wind to blow is a very trying occupation. In the course of the becalming, all the officers' stores were eaten so everyone was on short commons."

"Excuse me for interrupting, Mrs. Croft," said Anne, "But what are 'short commons'? My knowledge of sailing does not extend that far."

"Oh! of course, dear. Short commons are when all the food that the officers have brought on board for themselves are gone and everyone is eating from the ships stores. Ships bread, pease, salted meat. Nothing fresh and water was even being rationed. It was bleak indeed. The mind does strange things when that happens, all you can do is think of food. Your stomach is full of the common, but your mind can only see everything you cannot have."

He heard Sophie chuckle.

"All I could think about was ham. Of all things. Not only is it salty and made me thirsty, I am not even particularly fond of it. But ham it was. Every time I slept, there was ham in my dreams. Well, we finally caught the trade winds and were back on course. We were able to replenish the water off the South American coast somewhere in Brazil and we were able to take on some stores, but not anything in the way of ham, which, as I say, I am not fond of but haunted me nonetheless. After weeks, we finally came into Minorca and Port Mahon. Nothing could be done until Croft made his report to the Port Admiral. I sent him off in his best shabby uniform–the tropical air does such damage to the lace and broadcloth–he made his report and when he returned he had a parcel with him."

"And what might that have been, Mrs Croft?" The voice was Catherine's.

"Well, the dear man left orders for shore leave and took care of the ship's business and then he came into the after cabin and presented me with one of the most beautiful hams I have ever had the privilege of seeing. And he had even found a scrape of yellow ribbon to tie it up with."

Edward turned with an incredulous look to the Admiral. "A ham!?! And a yellow ribbon!?!" He glanced towards Frederick who had turned and put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"Oh! for all love, man! It was done as a joke! It was a joke! This is what I feared, nothing is sacred when wives come together."

The brothers were now laughing and hanging upon one another. It was hard to know whether it was the ham or the necessity of quiet that was the greater part of the hilarity.

"Reverend," Admiral Croft growled, "Get your ear back to that door, let's hear what has to be said about the two of you!"

Edward moved back to his post and listened again. It was Miss Anne who he heard speaking. "You're up, my boy!" he said with a wide grin at his brother.

While Frederick could not think right off anything foolish that he had done recently in Anne's presence, he had little hope of coming out of this conversation unscathed. "What is she saying?"

Edward waved his hand violently, "Sssshhhhh . . . she speaks very softly, I can't hear . . . there that's better."

"Well, this happened when we were in Somerset, the first time we were engaged. It was a lovely day and Frederick had borrowed Mr. Wentworth's gig."

"Yes, that lovely piece of antiquity my husband still owns!" chimed Catherine.

On the other side of the door, Edward grimaced at this and decided not to relay it to the gents.

They all laughed and Anne continued, "We went for a ride. I had brought a picnic lunch, and we intended to find a quiet place to enjoy it. On a whim, we took a little path that looked little used. We followed it and followed it until we came to a very small village that I knew nothing of! I had never heard of it, and Frederick was a stranger to the area and so, we were lost! But no matter how I begged or cajoled, Frederick refused to stop and ask how to get back to the main road! We passed farmers in the fields and herders with sheep, all manner of people who could have told us how to get back to Monkford, but he would not stop!" At this, both Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Wentworth began to laugh.

"Well, this is mightily unfair! Using things from our first engagement! Besides that, I had a very good idea of just where we were! It is plain wrong of her to use things from my youth!" he said with indignant conviction.

Edward turned and looked at him, "You mean you would stop and ask directions now, Captain? At this he and Croft began to laugh quietly. "I would suggest you take a quadrant with you on your next picnic, Frederick." At this, the two older men began holding their sides and looking at the younger with a pitying eye.

"Oh! stop it, you two! Your mess number should be up, Reverend. Quiet down and put your ear back to that door!"

As he did so, Edward observed, "The two of you only address me by my title when you're angry, have you ever noticed that?"

"Ssssshhhhhh . . . just tell us what you hear!" said Croft anxiously. They all knew that Mrs. Wentworth would have something to add to the conversation.

"As you can tell by my husband's profession, Miss Anne, he is more talented with his words than his hands though he has a tendency think differently. Like most men, and rightly so, he feels the need to care for his home and family . . ."

"Yes, but if you could see some of the abominations he committed upon our poor family," interrupted Sophie, "you would know that he could better care for his family by allowing a good repairman to do his job!"

"Yes, you would know that as well as I, sister. Anywise, we had not been married more than three months when I was poking about the dressing room while Edward was away on his weekly calls, well in my fussing, I bumped the door closed. When it shut, I heard such clattering in the lock that I knew it had fallen quite apart inside itself. I rattled the knob and sure enough, there was no way out. But since Edward could come home at any time, I had to raise a call all the time, for he was as like to come in and sit in his study and never know that I was trapped upstairs."

While Catherine had begun telling her tale, two of the gentlemen outside the door had realised that they were being done out of a great deal of interesting intelligence since the good Reverend was not forthcoming with any details. Tapping Edward on the shoulder, the Admiral said, "Reverend, since you are keeping things to yourself, we have determined that the Captain will take your post."

Looking from one to the other, Edward stood straight and motioned his brother to his place. As they watched Frederick's face, each took up his own place. The look on each face reflected how amusing they found the story. As they stood with ears pressed to the doors, the gentlemen did not realise was that as they were eavesdropping on their lady loves, they themselves were being watched. Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle were standing across the hall, quietly watching all that was taking place. While they both had become accustomed to the naval ways of the Crofts, this was beyond anything that they had ever witnessed. Shaking his head, Mr. Carlise motioned for his wife to come along, it was best to wait until they were called.

"And so, he finally came home and found me. He clattered the lock as I had and told me to wait a moment while he got something to open it. He returned and I heard him putting something in the lock and moving things about. Then came the words every wife dreads hearing . . ."

"Oh no!" Came a chorus of female voices, followed by laughter.

Outside the door, Croft and Frederick looked toward Edward. "So I am not a mechanical sort of fellow," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"He then tells me that I must wait a bit longer to get out as he will have to find Mr. Jacobsen, the smith. I am in the dark, the air has long since gone fug and now I am alone again. I hear thumping on the stairs and they have returned. I hear the lock being fiddled with and a voice scolding Edward for bending a table knife in the lock. There was more clattering and then the door swung open and there was Mr. Jacobsen and Edward looking at me as if I were mad. Edward helped me out while Mr. Jacobsen just shook his head and departed."

The gentlemen outside were laughing as heartily as the ladies. Even Edward was laughing as he remembered the debacle.

"Ha, ha, ha, what is so funny about the entire thing is that Mr. Jacobsen used a small lobster fork! I think the only reason that my husband is not better at fixing things is that he has no idea what tableware to use!"

The ladies laughed until all were spent and took up their tea. As they sipped and thought, each looked at the other two, realising that there was a friendship and family forming that evening which would last them all the rest of their lives.

Anne was the first to speak, "I wonder why men are so wont to try and be things that they are not?"

Catherine looked at Sophie and then at Anne. "I am not certain as to why men are that way, but I think we do it also, only we make others out to be what they are not." She took a long drink of her tea and looked to each of them as they nodded in agreement.

Putting down her tea and giving Catherine an inquiring gaze, she asked, "Do you think we should ask them to come in now?"

Putting a finger to her chin and pursing her lips, Catherine posed in thought for a moment. "I suppose we should, now that we have spoken of them each in such an inauspicious manner." Smiling broadly as she leaned a bit forward to them, she whispered, "And I thought we would not have much in common."

As they all straightened, they laughed at their own foolishness which quite equalled that of the men they loved.

The gentlemen were invited in and the rest of the evening moved on in a very comfortable manner.

The Honeymoon
The morning of March 25, 1815

While the Camden Parish chapel did well enough to remind people of their duties to God and the dire consequences of their not, as the friends and families of the bride and groom had gathered, the small and dark sanctuary took on a new countenance. While the building was normally a small brooding affair that never quite lent itself to the notions of such happy occasions as weddings, on this particular day, joy replaced the brooding and merry hearts pushed the darkness aside for a time. As with most religious ceremonies; marriages, christenings or funerals; thoughts and emotions come and share themselves with the participants and the observers. The wedding of Frederick Wentworth to Anne Elliot was no exception. As family and friends witnessed their joining, those, who had experience of marriage thought of their own vows; the hopes that had been engendered by them and the truth of how their lives had, in fact, come to pass. Those who truly loved affirmed their meaning with enthusiasm, those who were weary, desired the same elation so clearly seen in the bride and groom. Those with no such experience were either eager or grim, depending upon the desperateness of the case.

"It is actually more a hunting lodge than a country house. I hope you are not too disappointed," Frederick said, as they came around the last turn before their honeymoon refuge, Aldengate, would appear to them.

His good friend, Patrick McGillvary had offered the use of the 'family house' as it was called. The chief attraction had nothing to do with fine furnishings, wondrous architecture, or marvelous gardens. The furnishings were quite old, the architecture was Normanesque and in March, there were no gardens to speak of. To the newly married Wentworths, the chiefest attraction lay in Aldengate's eight mile drive from Bath; not close enough for a casual morning call by family, and the fact that there were only four people to staff the house. Just enough to make the place civil, but quite private.

Rounding the corner, the house came into view. "Stop the horses, please." Anne cried. Sitting quietly, she wished to look at it closely. This was the place they would spend the first fortnight of their married life together and she wanted to remember it a certain way. "It is a bit cumbersome looking, isn't it?"

"Cumbersome is the right word. But the staff are very good and Patrick assures me that he has taken care of that nasty snake problem," he said, as he stole a look towards his wife. She smiled and raised her brow as she looked back towards him; she was becoming quite adept at laying his jests aside and this did not rouse nearly the response he had wished.

"I know you mortally hate snakes and the mere idea of them inhabiting this house would have kept you miles from it. You obviously think me a silly girl having no sense." Laying her hand upon his arm, she said, "But, if I sight any serpents, I shall sing out loudly." Both laughed as he urged the horses on again.

Continuing up the carriageway to the house, he could feel the tension of the wedding fading with each step of the horses, only to have it replaced by a new anticipation of the evening to come. Reining to a stop in front of the house, the groom appeared and greeted the Captain as though he were of the family itself. At the same time, the couple who cared for the house, Mr. Collings and his wife appeared at the door. They came forward with an equally warm welcome for the couple.

The Admiral had been out personally the day before to see to all the arrangements. And there had been many. From the time he had offered the Lodge, Patrick had been out frequently to see to the remodeling of the bathing room, provisioning of the kitchen to accommodate a fortnight of good meals and the tuning of the pianoforte as he knew that the new Mrs. Wentworth was quite accomplished on the instrument.

"Everything is ready for you, Captain. I'll take these to your room and the boy'll bring your trunks presently," said Mr. Collings as he turned to take the satchel and portmanteau into the house. As the couple disappeared into the hall, Frederick reached up to lift his wife from the curricle. Bringing her down to the ground, he kept a hold of her for a moment.

"Frederick, I am down now. You may take your hands from round me." Anne smiled as she awaited his excuse.

"We have been riding quite a while and your legs might not be used to solid ground yet, we need to see that you are steady before we go cracking on, you know." This all had been said with nary a smile nor hint of jest. Anne had nearly decided that he was quite serious, and was about to reassure her husband that she was feeling no ill-effects from the ride when, as he pulled her closer to himself, he whispered, "Besides, I have wanted to do this for miles now." Before she even had time to respond to the kiss, he laughed, swept her up in his arms and walked slowly to the door.

Entering the house, Anne cried, "Put me down! There is no call for this!" She tried not to laugh as they stood in the hallway, looking from side to side, wondering in which direction the Collings had gone. "See what you have done? now we are lost," she smiled at him with one of those, "What now is to be done, Captain?" looks that he had seen so often aboard the Laconia.

Putting her down, he said, "If we have to, we will follow the boy with the trunk, but I think I hear voices . . . this way." He pointed to the left and they began to stroll down a wide, squat hall with a bank of windows facing out to the dormant fields. Coming to the only door it held, Frederick looked in and sure enough, there were the Collings.

They entered a large sitting room with very rich and very Italian furnishings. Turkey red being the most prominent fabric colour and deep mahogany wood gracing the wall panels and furnishings. Gilt accents shown in the sunlight streaming through the massive windows facing the gardens; mere skeletons now, the bones of the garden promised a lovely show in warm weather. As Anne took off her bonnet, she looked around the room, amazed that such a 'cumbersome' exterior would hold such a lavish interior.

"I thought you said this was a hunting lodge, it has more the look of a villa." Anne said as she surveyed the room.

"I had no idea that this room existed. When I was out, McGillvary and I shared a room at the other end. Two hard beds and a fireplace that refused to draw," he replied. "He had said there were better rooms, but he liked to keep in the tradition of hunting and use the more 'rustic.' I had hopes that the better rooms might be nice, but I had no idea . . . "

"Oh! there ya is, I thought I would have to coome back and fetch ya," Collings said, as he came from around the wall that was the fireplace. He had been stirring up the fire which was burning since early that morning to warm the two very large rooms making up the suite. The logs would burn for hours as they were nearly the length of the settee which was before the hearth. "The boy and I will come this evening and put the last log on for the night. Just stir it now and again if it cools a bit."

Just then, "the boy," himself made his appearance. He was a stout young man of nearly twenty. He carried the larger of the trunks with ease and set it down as lightly as if it were a feather pillow. Frederick had met him when he had been out with Patrick. The boy's name was Martin and he was deaf. The late Mr. McGillvary had brought him from the estate in Ireland, hoping to find a way make him useful. The manager at the home in Drogheda had found a big deaf boy troublesome. Collings was the picture of patience and found that Martin was quick to learn most anything set before him. As the Collings' were growing older, a strong back was a useful thing to have about the place. When Martin saw the Captain, he smiled widely and touched his knuckle to his forehead in salute; a gesture taught to him by the Admiral. Frederick extended his hand and the young man gave it a shake that nearly crushed him. Pulling back his hand afterward, gently cradling it with the other, Frederick smiled and indicating Anne, said, "My wife." Martin bowed and smiled, but it was clear that he was not certain what was being told him.

"Point to your ring, sir. He understands the ring."

"Oh, certainly." As he did, the meaning became clear and the boy smiled even wider. Pointing to Anne, he looked at Frederick and in the air, drew a circle around his own face and then drew a smile where it should be and then splayed his fingers like something opening. The Captain looked at Anne and neither had an idea what was being 'said.'

"He thinks the lady very pretty. Someone taught him some peculiar ways to make hisself known, o'er the months we found out what most of um are. The fingers openin' is 'pretty.'" Collings touched Martin on the arm and indicated that it was time for him to leave. He bowed nicely and smiled to the pretty Mrs. Wentworth and left. "If there is anathin' you need, there is a bell just over thar, past the table. Dinner will be a seven, if that is to your likin'?" he said with a questioning tone. Both nodded their approval, so he went on, "If it would acceptable to you, the table in here makes into a nice size to dine two people and thar'll be no need to dress formal, unless you cared to. But the dining room can easily be laid if that is yar wish."

"This room will be quite fine, Collings. I think we shall make ourselves to home and then venture out for a walk later."

"Very good, sir." Collings made his bow and allowed Mrs. Collings out the door and followed.

"Frederick, come and look at this!" Anne called from the next room.

As he came through the door, he saw Anne standing with her bonnet in one hand, her reticule in the other and a look of awe on her face. As he turned to see what had caused such wonderment in his wife, with a quick glance he began to notice the room itself. It did not carry out the scheme of the sitting room, for that he was immediately grateful as he did not greatly care for Italian furnishings. His relief was short-lived as he began to take more careful note of the room. The bed in particular made it impossible not to notice the differing decor.

Good Lord, McGillvary engaged Sophia to decorate this room, was the only thought that came to Frederick's mind. A flower garden in full summer was the only rival to the room which Frederick had occupied at Gay Street, but if it were possible, this room caused the other to look positively desert-like.

Roses, chrysanthemums, peonies, pansies, stocks, lilies; there was no end to the flowers and patterns in the bed, the chairs, table coverings and wallpapers. The freshest of hothouse flowers stood in vases dotting the room. Lace, ribbons, frills, all were there in abundance. And, to the Captain's chagrin, more little pillows all over the bed.

"It is beautiful. Do you not think?" Anne said with a great deal of pleasure in her voice.

"It is quite . . . a . . . marvel." It took great exertion to keep his voice from betraying his true feelings about the furnishings of the room. His wife was enraptured by it all and he was determined that he could endure another two weeks of rampant femininity, especially with a face as lovely as Anne's to look upon rather than the wallpaper.

Martin and Collings had placed the last log earlier in the evening and it was now crackling and popping away as they ate a quiet dinner, just the two of them.

"More pilaff, dear?"

"No, thank you, Frederick. As I was saying, I noticed her somewhat melancholy, but was heartened that you were speaking with her so . . . amiably."

Finishing the last of his veal, Frederick said, "Well, she was acting positively mother-of-the-bride-ish. She said she had never seen you so happy and then said it was all due to me." After taking a drink, he continued. "I was shocked. But then she went on to say that she felt herself still right in what she did all those years ago, but that she was quite glad that I had returned and made you my wife." Wiping his mouth on his napkin, he looked to her with an expression of wonder.

"I think that she is liking you despite herself. It does me good. I worried that the two of you might be rather difficult to manage." Laying aside her knife and fork, Anne reached over and took Frederick's hand. "Thank you for convincing me to make things right before the wedding, it would have pained me to have that dispute hanging over her and me."

He kissed her hand in return and said, "I think I am beginning to like her despite myself. And as for that dispute, it was kindly meant. Now enough of that. There are little cakes and an apple tart for dessert. And Patrick has provided a good bottle of Tokay. Shall I serve?" They had chosen that the dinner simply be laid out on a side table and the couple would serve themselves.

"Certainly, sir. What is 'Tokay'?" It was surprising that Frederick had gained so much knowledge of food and wine in the years he had been gone from her. His ideas of a good meal were rather different nine years previous; the odd piece of Stilton and coarse bread had been enough. While most thought Navy life to be a great deprivation, for her husband, it had proven to be an expansive education.

As he broke the seal and removed the cork, he recited in a teacher like fashion. "Tokay is a very sweet wine, very aromatic, made in central part of Europe. Mixed with water it is good for settling the stomach, but since I do not think there are any problems in that way here, we shall have it straight up. Here you are, my dear," he said as he filled her cordial glass. He was enjoying showing away for her. During their first engagement he had been too young to much care about a wider world of fine things, but as the promotions had come and the social demands had forced knowledge upon him, he had come to appreciate quality in many things, most particularly, his wife.

They talked on through the dessert and reveled in the fact that they were actually alone, no sisters, brothers, fathers, servants or anyone else. Just the two of them.

As they finished the last of the tart, Collings came to clear.

"Could you please send your wife for Mrs. Wentworth?"

"Certainly, sir." As he finished with the trays and cart, he asked, "Will thar be anathin' more, sir? Will you require my assistance?"

"No. I require no help. And I think that will be all for the evening. I am not certain when we will be wanting breakfast in the morning, so I shall ring when we are ready for it. Good evening, Collings."

"Good ev'nen sir. The misses will be up directly."

An awkward silence enveloped them after Collings quit the room. Anne stayed to the table and studied the vase of roses placed there. Frederick walked to the windows and looked into the dark. There were no stars to identify, no need to try for a dead reckoning; he was eight miles north-northeast of Bath, on his honeymoon.

Too nervous to sit any longer, Anne rose and said quietly, "I think I will just go to the dressing room and await Mrs. Collings." She smiled shyly and left him alone.

Anne sat at the dressing table, looking at her reflection in the mirror. While helping to change into her gown and as her hair had been brushed, Mrs. Collings had given Anne quite a hurried narrative of the McGillvarys, Aldengate and her opinions on how family matters stood. Seeing Anne a bit shy about the gown, she had clucked about how beautiful it was and had assured that the Cown-tess, (the second Mrs. McGillvary, mother to Mr. Roanan, not Mr. Patrick ya know), had many that would have made hers look like fine thick flannel, if her modesty was a bit over high. While that had amused her, it was a bit embarrassing that everyone knew that they were just married and that this was their first night, alone together. After thanking Mrs. Collings for her kind attentions and the history lesson, Anne sat and studied herself for a moment. Her hair fell about her shoulders as she again brushed out one side and then the other. Laying down the brush she took her hair and piled it up, pinning it loosely. Smiling to herself, she thought, This may help us to pass the time.

As Anne was in the dressing room, having quickly changed, Frederick answered the knock at the door.

"Sir, the Admiral asked that this be given just after you retired. So here it is." Mr. Collings brought in a tray and an ice bucket with a bottle in it. Placing them on a table near the window, he said, "Don't hesitate to use the bell if there be anathin' else you and Mrs. Wentworth may need." Bowing, he left the room.

Nice touch, Paddy. Noticing that there was a note with the wine, he took it up and read:

Frederick
I hope these fine spirits find you and your lovely bride in fine spirits. Be very careful of this elixir or else you may discover yourself waking up with no memory of the night. We cannot have that, now can we, my friend?

Paddy

"Patrick, you rascal," Frederick said under his breath. Pulling the bottle from the cooler, he looked at the champagne's label, "Excellent vintage, friend." He put it back in the ice. As he awaited Anne, he extinguished the candles in the wall sconces, No need to waste Patrick's good beeswax. After replacing the snuffer, he stood at the windows and looked out; there were few lights to pierce the darkness of the countryside. Patrick had told him how much land there was to the estate, but he had no recollection of the amount, all he recalled was its being great and that left little property for any other estates in the area. Standing in his nightshirt and robe, he could better feel the cold coming from the windows. Pulling closed the thick, damask curtains, he turned to the sound of Anne clearing her throat.

"Ahem . . . mm."

"Anne . . . " was all that raggedly escaped him. She was beautiful. He had always thought her so. Not in a way which caught a man quite unawares and left him senseless, more in quiet, admiring way. But to see her standing before him now, dressed as she was, forced him to recognise just what an ill-conceived notion that was. And to know that she was his wife and that this sight was his alone caused a wave of desire, stronger than any he had known, to come over him. There had been times he tried to imagine this moment. No imagining had come near to the reality of it. She stood close to the bed in the white, silken gown with the robe that fairly burst with flowers, she seemed to become a living part of this garden room. As he looked longer, it was impossible not to notice the thinness of the silk and this too caused no little commotion in the Captain.

Crossing the room, he stopped just short. To know that she was his wife and that this night was only the first of their life together was too heady a thought to pursue just then. As he reached out his hand to her, she did the same and both felt the intensity as they touched. Taking the last two steps, he took her in his arms and without a word, kissed her. The longing of the years; the hope and relief began to make themselves obvious in both. But, this was an occasion in which to delight, not hasten through, and, reluctantly, Frederick pulled himself back saying, "I am quite undone by the sight of you, my girl. I do not think I could have ever imagined you so beautifully."

Anne flushed, from his gaze and his words, she must not look silly after all. Taking her arms from around his waist, she encircled his neck. "Thank you. A woman likes to hear such things from the man she loves. So, you approve of the gown?" As she said this, she looked up into his face. The face which had occupied so many thoughts, the face that had intruded upon so many dreams. Taking her finger, she traced a line along his lips and cheek to his neck, where she began to comb through his hair. To think, she would now be free to look and touch and dream of it as much and as often as she cared to.

"I can see nothing of which to disapprove. What I see is the loveliest sight in all the world."

"Thank you. Is that champagne I see chilling over there?" she said, peeking past him. She had heard the door and voices as she had changed and then noticed the silver bucket along with the salvers of sweets and fruits. No doubt, another of Admiral McGillvary's instructions being carried out.

Frederick glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the table, and said, "Yes. We have been provisioned for the evening and Collings assured me that if there were anything else, all we need do is ring. Shall we ascertain how skillful our host is at chusing the grape?" Anne nodded and he motioned her to a chaise lounge before the fireplace. "You sit and I will bring it to us." Taking up the two glasses and the bottle, he joined her before the fire. Handing her the glasses, he took the cloth from around the bottle and began to work the cork with the prong Mr. Collings had set for him. As he accomplished this, he said, "I had a first officer once whose French mother had grown up in the Champagne region; he was well versed in the drink and showed me the properest way to remove the cork so that it does not waste itself in spraying about. It is not as dramatic as a large show, but there is more to enjoy when it is done properly." At this there was a gentle, 'pop.' "See, no drama, but a full bottle," he said, holding it up proudly. He poured her glass and then his own. Setting the bottle on the floor he took his and looked at Anne. The fire was high and threw a wavering light, highlighting her hair and eyes.

"Frederick, you are staring," she smiled as she said this. It was not often that one could find him without anything to say, but it appeared that this was now the case.

Reaching up and touching her lips with the tips of his fingers, he said, "I have no choice. I can find no words..."

Moving closer to her, he placed his hand on her neck and gently pulled her towards himself. He again kissed her, deeply and with more ardor than the previous; she responded with full as much passion. Both had forgotten the champagne; both remembered at the same instant. Hers had spilled down his front and his had poured into her lap. Jumping up at the same time, they looked at one another with the same astonished expression. Frederick holding the dripping robe away from himself and she looking down at her gown; both began to laugh.

"I am certain that Patrick did not have this in mind when he had the champagne iced . . . at least I hope not!" he said.

"I am sure he did not and so much for carefully removing the cork!" both laughed again. "We have no one to blame but ourselves, for my part, I was a bit too distracted to be having champagne," said Anne, smiling at the distraction.

Relieving her of the now empty glass, he set both on a small side table and turning back to her, he took her in his arms and said, "I think that 'distracted' is an understatement, my girl. For my part, I was completely lost and would like to lose myself again . . ." As he spoke, he came closer with every intention of continuing where they had left off.

Anne touched his lips with her forefinger, and said, "Frederick, this is going to become very . . . sticky, may we change and then we shall . . . go on, all right?"

In resignation, he exhaled deeply and rested his forehead upon hers. "I suppose." Lifting his head to look at her, he said, "I suppose that a few more minutes will not matter, will it?"

She laughed, "No, it will not. Now . . . let me go."

With a great deal of reluctance, he released her; sighing, he watched her go. No, a few moments will not matter, we have a lifetime now, he thought with a smile.

The fine cambric nightshirt and brocade robe were gone, replaced by his cotton nightshirt and embarrassingly old flannel robe. To leave his room at the Croft's empty for Edward and his wife, Frederick had brought all the clothes he owned, but he certainly had not been expecting to wear them. Stirring the fire well and sitting down near it to watch the flames, he heard the door to the dressing room open; when Anne returned, she came quietly beside him. "It is beautiful to watch."

Turning to look at her, he saw that she was attired in a similar fashion; a cotton wrapper that had been much darker a season ago and, no doubt, a nightdress which was, at its very best, plain and serviceable.

"Well, so much for our finery. Will your gown survive?"

"Yes, it is soaking. Perhaps we should learn from this."

"What do you mean?" Leaning against the chaise, he opened his arms to her. She moved over to him and resting in his arms, he held her close and both enjoyed the quiet of the moment. "What do you mean about learning from this?" he asked in a low voice. It was difficult to keep his mind on her reply; the scent of her hair was distracting and her cheek and neck were so close . . .

"I meant, that . . ." she turned and saw that he was staring again. It was also difficult not to notice how close his face . . . his mouth . . . " I meant, that it is quite appropriate that all our 'finery' as you called it is put aside and we are now in these," indicating their ordinary nightclothes. As Anne knew it would be impossible to say anything more while they sat this way, she moved next to him, also leaning against the chaise. Taking his hand in hers, she smiled at him, "What I mean is that nine years ago everything was new for us, it was all fine and pretty," reaching her hand to his cheek and running her thumb over his chin, " . . . or handsome, but now we are better. We are . . . older, hopefully wiser and more . . . steady and a bit worn," she said with an amused tone to her voice.

Sliding his arm around her and bringing her into his arms again. He gazed up at the ceiling, as though he were giving serious thought to her claims when he said, "Let me see if I understand you. It is appropriate that we are arrayed thus because old cottons and flannel are wiser and more steady than the finery of our silken youth! Am I close?" He looked at her with a bright smile.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I give up. You are impossible" With that, she turned so she faced him and fit herself snugly into his arms.

Holding her closer still, he kissed her hair and said, "Impossible I may be, but you are trying to be too profound. It all comes to this, we made a shambles of the first try and now, on the second, we shall succeed." They sat quietly, he watching the fire, she feeling the warmth of him and the room blending into one.

They had sat quietly for a time, how long, neither of them could say. Frederick began to absently stoke a curl of Anne's hair, which lead to running his fingers through it, but realised it was pinned. Puzzled, he asked, "Anne?"

It took her some time to answer. "Mm . . . yes, Frederick?"

"Why is your hair still up? Are you engaged elsewhere for later?" he said in a tone of mock seriousness.

"No," she said matter-of-factly.

"Then why is it still up? I was rather looking forward to . . . " he asked with a vaguely disappointed tone.

She sat up and faced him, "Having it down?" With a sly smile, she continued, "Do you remember the night before I broke our engagement? What you did?" Leaning close, she lightly kissed his jaw.

"Oh yes, . . . it has been the stuff of more than one delightful, but very frustrating abstraction over the years." He smiled as the memory came to his mind.

"It has been the same for me. . . "

He gave her a surprised look, "Really?"

Laughingly, she said, "Yes! While men are a bit more free to acknowledge their . . . private thoughts, it does not mean that women do not have them." Leaning forward again, she gently kissed his cheek. "It was highly improper to do such an . . . . intimate thing, but what was not proper then . . . I think would be safe now to count as a husband's right . . . I want you to take it down as you did that evening. I promise ...I'll not run away this time," she smiled.

It surprised him that she had thoughts of this kind, and more that, she was making it a part of this night, though it did not displease him and with a catch in his voice, he said, "Never let it be said that I would not do everything in my power to make my wife happy." Pulling her close, he began to graze her neck with kisses and lightly touch and feel through her hair. Each pin was a frustration and a promise of something no longer forbidden.

She combed through his hair with her fingers. There was no thought about that first time long ago, there was only the delight in repeating it now, when there could be a satisfactory conclusion. Tossing the last pin to the carpet to join the others, he buried his hands in her hair. The feel and the scent of it were the same. The silken caress and the fading scent of lavender; these had not changed, what had changed was they were now man and wife; they were completely free to follow the natural inclination of the moment.

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