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Chapter 5
Anne stepped
out the door to a dull, heavy sky. She hadn’t the faintest idea
where she would go, but she knew she had to escape the house at
once. The thought of meeting with the viscountess and her questions
was most disagreeable. However, to meet with Elizabeth's disdain, or
her father's cold, and vulgar assumptions was the worst of
all. She was thankful she had taken the ragged cloak and bonnet Aine had given her. If she'd not paid attention, they would likely have been taken from Elizabeth's room and burnt. Their downtrodden look allowed Anne to be no one in particular as she made her way along the street. Hasty passers-by were hurrying, attempting to get out of the drizzling rain. A couple walking towards her obviously moved aside to avoid passing by too closely. This reminded her there were limits to where she would be accepted dressed as she was, and having no money, she was limited still more. A brisk walk would not go wrong she thought, and she paused to wait for a carriage to pass before crossing the street. A hand on her shocked her. She froze. A picture of Mr Munson’s leering face came immediately to mind. “You look no worse for wear having taken shelter in that hide,” a low, deep voice said. She relaxed and had every expectation of finding Frederick by her side. She turned and was sorely disappointed. The man named Harville noted her regret. “My dear wife looks at me the same way when I come home from a voyage not loaded down with prize money and jewels.” The carriage passed and he took her arm as they crossed. “You look as though you could use some tea, Miss Elliot. Or something stronger perhaps depending on your tastes.” She shocked herself by going alone without hesitation. * * * Commander Harville was placing their order in a small teashop her father and sister would deem too low for an Elliot to consider. Anne sat with her ungloved hands in her lap, wishing for all the world she had thought to bring her reticule. It held nothing of great value or interest, only a phial of salts and the keys to a side door at Kellynch Lodge. It’s only purpose would have been to make her look busy as she casually or enthusiastically ransacked it. As it was, she felt everyone was staring at the poor raggedy girl accompanied by the poor raggedy looking man. “Here we are.” Harville took the seat next to her as the girl laid the table with tea and a plate of buns. “It’s not much, but it will tide us over for a while.” He was not shy. He took a bun and began to slather it with butter and jam. His manners were slipshod at best, but Anne liked him. His connection with Frederick, criminal though it may be, made her sympathetic to him. That aside, he was genuine, and she did not feel the need to hold herself apart with a wall of respectability. She took a bun from its plate and began to spread it neatly it with butter and jam. “—so I met him after the ship had been given to another for the second time. For the life of me, I cannot understand why the Navy keeps dangling that same ship before the Captain’s nose and then jerking it away. Laconia is a very fine ship and she needs a fine officer at her helm.” “Perhaps they do not consider Frederick suitable to the task.” Harville paused and looked at her with a faint smile on his lips. He spread another bun with butter. “No, you could think that if it happens once. Either they think you unprofessional and change their tack, or they find an exalted nephew or son-in-law needs to be kept busy. No, if it happens twice, there is a puppet master involved. Someone is toying with the Captain and that’s a fact.” If Frederick had indeed cast off all morality for the life of a smuggler, this would likely be the cause. His self-confidence had always been towering and she was sure he would see this as premeditated harassment; a scheme formulated to keep him from his fondest desire. He was fully intelligent enough to exact his revenge by using his formidable skills to harass them in return. This was likely the case, if, he was indeed smuggling. Harville stuffed the last of the bun in his mouth and washed it down with the last of his tea. He tried the pot and found it empty. “I am a beggarly fellow, Miss. I have spent all I had on this feast and now we are at the end of it. I’m sure you’re used to much better.” It was refreshing to have such a cheerful companion. The man’s self-deprecation was filled with such honesty and lack of embarrassment. It was impossible to be embarrassed by or disappointed with him. “I am used to lavish tea accompanied by very dreadful company, sir. So, I assure you that to have a modest tea and wonderful company is a treat.” The man actually blushed! He jiggled his cup so it scraped in the saucer. Anne Elliot had never, in her life, embarrassed a man. She found she enjoyed it. It was clear she had confused the man horribly and it was her unpleasant responsibility to bring things back to the essentials. “Now that you have seen to my bodily needs, sir, I wish you to relieve my mind. How is Frederick?” The swiftness with which Harville changed from awkwardness to worry was astonishing. “I had hoped he was here, in Dublin. With you.” They stared at one another as the shop business clattered on around them. It now was Harville who brought them to the essentials. “I have been here since early this morning. Your visit from Lieutenant MacMurphy had me a bit concerned. Now that I know Frederick is nowhere to be found, I am plain worried.” “You have been spying on me.” “In a manner of speaking, yes. I remembered the name Dalrymple from the ship and found the house last night when I arrived in town.” “How did you know that house in particular was our cousin’s house?” “Miss Anne, there is not much that can’t be discovered with a few well phrased questions.” Considering her experience of that morning, she had to agree. “And a bit of monetary inducement?” He glanced at the leavings of their feast. “Yes, that too. I spent nearly my last farthing at the Keystone waiting at for Frederick. After spending my very last on inducements here, I know that you arrived at the house the morning before yesterday. Which explains his missing me the first three days, but now he's two days longer missing. I am curious, what took the two of you so long to travel from our landing point on the beach and Dublin?” He must have asked many well-phrased questions to know precisely when she had arrived and that the Navy was at the home of the viscountess. It was his current question, which disturbed her. “It was my doing. I fell ill. We were offered shelter with a family in return for Frederick’s help.” Harville’s expression lightened. “And what was this help?” “An older man was finishing a room he’d added on to their cottage and he asked that Frederick would help him to paint and plaster.” He was smiling wider as she explained. She suspected he would have something snide to say about Frederick’s skills as a carpenter. “Painting he is very familiar with. And I’m sure he was an expert with the plastering by the end of the first hour. He’s like that you know. One of those insufferable people who are able to pick up the fine points of practically anything with great ease, while the rest of us fumble and make a dismal hash of it all. Really annoying it can be.” He gathered some of the crumbs from the buns on his finger and ate them. Anne smiled. "You are right. I was shown the room and it did look skilfully done. That being the case, I'm not sure why the old man—his name was Tomas—was always sniping at Frederick." Harville leant back. "No one likes a show-off." He leant forward. "Not that the Captain is a peacock really, but he is glad for you to … quietly admire his accomplishments. And they are many." His smile faded. "Please think, did he say anything about going anywhere before meeting me?" "No, he said nothing about his plans after letting me down at my cousin's. I assumed he would meet with you as planned. Particularly as he was past the appointed time." "Well then, I have no choice but to follow the path he likely took back to the cottage." He looked at Anne. "I am reluctant to leave such good company, Miss Anne, but if you will please tell me how to get to this cottage, I can be on my way." He pulled a watch from his pocket and looked at the time. The thought of being alone once more was disheartening. The thought of being ignorant of Frederick's whereabouts was unacceptable. "I am sorry, Mr Harville, but I really can't say where it was. I don't remember." Harville examined her for a moment. A gentleman passing stumbled into the Commander’s chair and apologised. When all the falderal was finished, Harville resumed the examination. Finally, he said, "You are a clever woman, Miss Anne, else the Captain would not be so interested in you. I am not certain you are truly unaware of the location of the cottage, or whether you are manoeuvring me into taking you with me." Anne was delighted that the man was so intelligent, but she did not like the waste of time it would take to convince him to take her with him. " I was not paying attention as we went. It is off the main road and there were lots of little turns and such in the path leading away. It is not like telling you how to get to the grocer on the high street, sir." She waited for him to yield. He rose suddenly, pushing his chair in the way of a matron passing. She glared and he apologised. "I must find transport for us." He took his hat from the table and left her. Again, she wished for her purse. A girl came and removed the teapot and plates. "We could really use the table, dear." She leant down close so that others could not hear. She likely felt badly making Anne move on and go back into the cold dampness. Once outside, Anne stood away from the door so she'd not be shoo'd away. As luck would have it, a soft breeze was beginning to stiffen into wind. Thinking to keep herself warm, and to have a view of Commander Harville when he returned, Anne began to walk up the street. It was not long before she saw him, driving a rather unwieldy farm wagon. It was a larger version of the pony cart in which she'd arrived. On closer inspection when he drew up to the kerb, she saw it filled with loose hay. All she could hope was that there were no mice taking refuge in its depths. He dismounted and handed her up. Anne situated herself, and said, "You are very quick. I expected it to take some time as you have no money." "Walk on. Dublin is full of men of the sea, Miss, and men of the sea are glad to help one another out when needed. Besides, as you might have observed, the horse is not much to look at and the cart itself is appallingly old, but they will do the trick for our purposes." He brought the cart to a pause to allow a woman and several children to cross. A hostile call from behind brought only a glance back and a laconical wave on his part. "Do you recall which way you came into town?" Anne thought she should remember something so simple as that. It then began to eat at her that she might not remember the way at all. "We turned right off the main street, into the alleyway behind the house. I'm afraid that's all I remember." Harville thought, but did not seem in any way perturbed. He made a few turns through other alleyways and streets packed with businesses and people. Soon they were driving out of Dublin on a road that seemed to Anne to be familiar. She was impressed with his abilities to navigate, and she said as much. "Thank you, Miss. It's what they pay me for. When they pay me." They rode on for a while, each quiet and thinking their own thoughts. It had been some time before they spoke again. "It would be a shame if it turns out you and Fred—the Captain missed one another as you walked to Dublin." "Ah, no chance of that." He turned to look back. "We made a survey of the area. There is too much at stake for blunders like that." His hand slipped into his coat for just an instant. "We agreed ahead of time the routes we would take. I did not miss him. I am persuaded that once he returned to it, he never left the cottage." She grew cold. "And why do you think this?" In her mind, she had imagined him returning the horse and cart and going on to meeting Harville. This new idea disturbed her greatly. He shifted in his seat and leant forward on his knees. "I don't like the sound of any of it. Miss Anne, nearly every man, woman, and child living along the coast are up to their necks in the smuggling business. Those not actively taking goods from ships are quite amenable to striking signal fires to aide those who are. They also do not hesitate to go down to the water to unload for those coming ashore. The ground about their homes is riddled with hides so that they might keep the goods out of sight until they can be moved. The idea that people would, out of the goodness of their hearts, offer strangers shelter is… suspicious." Harville's expression was distressing. Moreover, with Harville's observation, the memory of the conversation she and Frederick had about Aine's fine dishes and silver took on a new and ominous meaning. She told Harville what they had discussed and described some of the other incongruities of the cottage. The Commander listened, asking a few questions now and then. Nothing was said for some time. Anne was discouraged. When she had come earlier in the week, Frederick's presence was a great distraction, and now, without him, the road was nondescript fields on one side, and substantial, wild hedges on the other. She had no notion of how long they had been journeying, and was about to admit to the commander she was lost. Before she spoke, she noticed several small birds gathered on a pile of stones piled just to the side of a path that cut through the bushes. It was not her practice normally to look for signs. Nevertheless, the road spread out like a hard grey ribbon before them and there was no telling if they would come across another path any time soon. The industrious birds might very well be pecking on the marker telling them in the direction they should go. "This may be it, sir." He pulled the cart to a stop. "Maybe be. You are not certain." "Not really." She couldn't look at him and admit this. He said nothing. The birds scattered and the wagon groaned as he veered off the main road onto a path cut into a patch of bare bushes. The spindly branches reached out and made the ride less than pleasant. This annoyance seemed familiar, but Anne wondered if this was more from hope than fact. She started to again apologise for what was perhaps a wild goose chase, when he put his finger to his lips. He pulled the horse to a stop and looked back at the road. A man riding a large brown horse passed by the entrance. He did not look down the path. They were safe and the man seemed completely ignorant of the path and them. Harville sat thinking. Anne was afraid to speak. He jumped down from the wagon and walked the path towards the road. He stopped short and listened. He returned and mounted the wagon. "We are being followed," he said quietly. "I will wager that riding that fine bay mare was our friend, MacMurphy. Several fellows have passed along after. I suspect they are Marines in disguise." "You know the lieutenant?" Anne too looked to the road. "Only by sight. And reputation. He's a clever boy, and if his father has his way, he'll be First Lord one day." "By his own admission he will never be." "Smart lad. He's right about that. But he's not right in any bad opinion he may hold of the Captain." Harville continued to sit and occasionally look back down the path. "I'm sure he's seen us and is just waiting to make his move." He flicked the reins. "I'll find a place to turn around. We can't lead the Navy to the Captain. Besides, when it starts to pour, you should not be out." The cart jerked to start. They rode on for some time, far enough that when she looked back she could no longer see the road. They had still found no place wide enough to turn the wagon and Anne touched Harville's arm. "I understand what you were trying to tell me about the people around here, and how dangerous they can be. If Frederick is at the cottage, and things are as desperate as you fear, would it not be good to have … reinforcements?" She hated the idea that Frederick could be in such dire straits that the help of those commissioned with his capture was necessary. However, she could easily believe that Tomas and Cavan were either actively smuggling, or were playing an essential part in the web of accomplices Harville had described. She said a little prayer that Aine, her baby, and Cavan's little girls were out of harm's way. He pulled the wagon to a stop and said nothing. They sat for some time as Harville evidently weighed the alternatives. Anne pulled the cloak close against the amplifying wind. After a few minutes, Harville handed her the reins and jumped from the wagon. "If I don't return soon, walk up to the road and head back to town. I'll keep a watch out for you." He touched his hat and started up the path. If Harville did not return, to expect her to walk back to Dublin, unescorted, was foolhardy. The dangers to a woman alone abounded. In addition, what could it possibly mean that he would keep a watch out for her? Suddenly, Anne understood and manoeuvred her way down from the seat. She walked quickly at first, but tiny drops of rain warned her that it was not quickly enough. She picked up her skirt and ran. As she came around a small bend in the path, and saw him. "Commander Harville." He turned and waited for her. She spoke though out of breath. "Let me go and summon the lieutenant." She took a few deep breaths. He steadied her. "You're in this far enough as it is. No sense in MacMurphy thinking you’re one of the gang." "But you suspect he will take you captive, leaving me. And Frederick." "I'm sure he's got a writ with my name on it. I know I’m not much to look at, but I’d make a tidy trophy for him to fetch back in hopes I would peach on my friend. He knows we've been in this together, and have my own uses." He again reached into his coat pocket, handling something therein. "Besides, there is nothing saying he may not be looking for you and would be quite happy to take you in his custody. Leaving me and the Captain." Anne felt up to the task now. "I am not one of those he is commissioned to seize. Besides, in just the same way you were watching me, it seems clear he has been watching the both of us. He knows we are up to something. Moreover, if he would be satisfied with you as a tidy trophy, me meeting him at the road will likely raise his curiosity and entice him down this path. As you said, I am in so far now, I may as well go farther still?" The thought of being “one of the gang,” was not unappealing as the situation unfolded. Harville smiled. "You get him to me. I am sure I can persuade him to follow the rest of the way." He turned and headed to the wagon.
!!UPDATE!! Anne started
for the road. There were several things she might say to pique the
lieutenant's interest, but nothing sounded terribly convincing. She
was also consumed with doubts about the direction they were
going. Would she be
able to lead the men and wagon to the cottage, or was this a
fruitless endeavour? Her shoes slipped on the sand covered path,
jarring her teeth. She slowed a bit and concentrated on her steps.
In due time, she had faith; solutions for the other troubles would
come. She stopped just a few feet short of the road. Once she made herself known by stepping onto the roadway, events would be set in motion that could never be undone. For good or for evil, I shall do my part in finding Frederick, she thought as she stepped around the scraggly, bare bushes. But no one resembling Lieutenant MacMurphy was to be seen. "Ahoy, Miss Anne Elliot!" Anne was startled by the familiar voice, turning towards it without thinking. The lieutenant urged his horse closer. He and his fine bay stood immediately before her, looking down at her. "Out for a bit of an invigorating walk are you?” A gust of wind punctuated his question. She held her cloak close. "Come, sir, let us not play games. I am no more out for a bit of a walk than you are out for a bit of a ride." Another gust of wind through the bushes sent a small flight of birds into the air, upsetting the horse. MacMurphy wound the reins around his hand, and wrestled the horse into submission. When he was in control, he smiled and leant on the pommel of his saddle. "Suppose I were to tell you that I have come to take you back to town?" He felt close enough to reach out and touch her. She looked into his eyes but his casual nature made it impossible to judge whether he was serious or playing a game with her. The time was short and they had no time for amusing exchanges. In addition, there was no time for some sort of misguided, valiant rescue. "I doubt that very much. I suspect we have both come looking for the same thing.” The mist was beginning to turn into a light spray. "You have nothing to say about me taking you back to town." He glanced up to the sky and back to her. "Which might not be a bad idea." He raised a brow. The horse suddenly took several high steps. "You…" MacMurphy said gaining control again. He looked back to Anne. "You and this brute have much in common, Miss Anne Elliot." "And what would that be?" "You are both quite tenacious, I think." His attempts to be ingratiating suddenly exhausted Anne. The last days had been more gruelling than she realised. She looked up to MacMurphy. "I am nothing of the sort. In the past few days, I have endured many things I could never have dreamt except in nightmares. At this moment, all I care about is finding my friend." To call Frederick Wentworth her friend was to purposely give the lieutenant the wrong idea. However, there was really no other word to describe their relationship that would not give false impressions to the man, and perhaps, to herself. He straightened and turned his attention to the horse. It nickered and he spoke quietly to it. Again, he straightened and stared at her for a moment. "Your answer indicates you will not cooperate. And to that I have to say there is nothing stopping me you know. Once I see you safely back with your family, I can return later and search this entire area more thoroughly." His insistence on this line of conversation was exasperating and she was done with it. "I refuse to go back." She turned to leave. Before Anne knew what was happening, MacMurphy was off his horse, standing immediately before her. His smile never wavered. In his grey eyes she saw a sort of mirth, but deeper there was an iron resolve to have his own way. She had seen this expression before in shades of hazel. "Miss Anne Elliot, there is nothing to prevent me from calling the men accompanying me, putting you in that saddle, and taking you back to Dublin. Nothing. At. All." He raised his hand and in almost an instant six men—one of them being Mr Foley—were standing in two tidy rows before them. "As you can see, I too am more than able to serve up an ultimatum." He stepped back, and bowed to her. When he rose, he said, "But, fortunately, I am persuaded this little walk may be profitable for us both, Miss Anne Elliot." He made another signal to the men and they parted. He reached around her, took the reins of his horse, and started down the path. He turned back. "Will you join me, Ma'am?" The situation was now in the hands of MacMurphy. He had taken over with an ease that took her breath away. She had no choice but to join him. His long stride made keeping up difficult, but Anne was determined to keep silent and manage as best she could. When she again slipped on the sandy path, he noticed and offered his arm. She reluctantly accepted. His offer almost guaranteed she would not make a fool of herself by falling, but his discernment annoyed her. They proceeded and he slowed his pace. Once they were in unison, he said, "I suspect your father is completely ignorant of what you are up to." Anne could not decide if it was the man's accuracy or his impertinence that irritated her most. She remained silent hoping to stifle his conversation. "You are obviously indifferent to your family's objections to Wentworth,” he said. It was clear he was not one to take a hint. “Your risking the approbation of your of your father, in particular, makes me think you are more than friends with the Frederick Wentworth." There was much more than shallow cleverness to Lieutenant MacMurphy. Aside from his good manners, there was his grasp of her family situation. In all, it was the man's uncanny ability to comprehend her feelings for Frederick made Anne the most uncomfortable. Instead of speaking and risking giving him more information, she listened to the wind, the heavy footfall of the horse, and the muffled sound of the men walking on the sandy track. In the past, silence had not stopped him speculating. Anne knew if she did not answer soon she would have to endure more of his painfully accurate inferences. She decided to give him a little of the truth. "The Captain and I were close once. He was a commander then." "I thought as much. Your father's explosion at the mention of his name was a dead give away that there was more than an acquaintance between him and the family." Anne felt the blood drain from her face. How could she keep the exact nature of the relationship private? Fearing MacMurphy might see her reaction, she looked off into the brush along the path. "As you heard,” she said, “he did not approve. Though, it took my godmother to persuade me to end the relationship completely." "Ah," was all he said. She immediately knew that she’d given more history than was safe. Thankfully, his response offered no more conjecture, and invited nothing more from her. She looked at the clouds. They were less sullen than when she had set out, and it seemed the wind was lessening. At last he broke the silence. "Perhaps you can help me understand godmothers," This change in the conversation's tack was jarring, but welcome. "Are they chosen particularly for their interfering nature, or is it a quality that comes after years of practise?" Anne noticed that MacMurphy took care that neither she nor his horse caught a foot on a large stone jutting into the pathway. Again, she wondered if he was serious or not. It was possible he was making conversation meant to be clever and to fill the silence, or it might be he was genuinely interested in her opinion. She looked at him and he too was studying the scenery. "I don't know,” she said. “A little of both might answer." This sort of conversation between them was too easy and light to be part of his investigation she decided. In another time, under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed the company of Lieutenant Daniel MacMurphy very much. "I was a bit chagrined when mine referred to me as 'dear' this morning. It is embarrassing that even when she knows I am on official business, she takes it upon herself to at least hint at our connection." Anne had not noticed at the time, but she understood that a woman like Lady Dalrymple could be grating for a man endeavouring to climb high in his profession. "You can be grateful she did not pinch your cheeks and tell embarrassing stories of your childhood,” Anne said. He laughed. "True. Does yours do that." "Not really. She merely reminds me of all my missteps in life." "Ah, a joy I'm sure. When I was first put in the Navy, I was an arrogant little midshipman. Once, when she made a very public fuss over me, I took it upon myself to express my incandescent displeasure. She took it quietly, but it did hurt her. I understood later that she was only expressing her pride in me. They only want the best for us, I suppose." His observation was one she had made herself concerning Lady Russell and her intervention. When they came around the little bend, Harville was in view, leaning against the wagon. Fortunately, there would be no reason for her and the Lieutenant to trade any more family stories. MacMurphy stopped. He did not release her hand that she might advance. "Now that we have met up with your friend, I must ask, Miss Anne Elliot, why should I believe this is not an ambush? How can I be certain you and the Commander there are not planning harm to me and my men?" His question erased all the pleasant banter of the past moments. However, it was a fair question considering what Commander Harville had said about those involved in the smuggling trade. She turned and looked him fully, eye-to-eye. "As you said, I am more than an acquaintance with Captain Wentworth. I think … the Commander and I think he may be in danger." "So, you need me and my men in case something goes terribly wrong." "Yes." He motioned Foley to join him. "Please stay here until I call for you, Miss Anne Elliot." He nodded to the man and they moved on towards Harville. MacMurphy stopped and quickly leaned close to her. "If Wentworth does not kneel down and kiss your hand for rescuing him from whatever mischief he's gotten himself into, slap him. Very hard." He turned away before she could speak. She watched as Harville came forward and met the men. The Commander's guarded manner exhibited none of the openness of his meeting with Anne. That was not unexpected, she reasoned. There was nothing to fear from a lone woman, and one he knew to be connected to his friend at that. In just a few minutes it was clear there was little trust between the two men and that their introduction was quickly sinking into outright hostility. Anne took a step, intending to mediate between them, but a hand stopped her. "The lieutenant said to stay put, Ma'am." She turned to look and the man removed his hand from her arm. "MacMurphy!" It was Harville's voice. Anne turned back to see that the lieutenant was walking away from the Commander, but had stopped when called. Harville removed a small book from his pocket and held it out. The Lieutenant nodded to Foley, who took the book and handed it over to MacMurphy. He opened it, took a few moments to glance over its contents. He handed it to Foley for his inspection. They conferred and MacMurphy almost instantly looked to Anne, and motioned her to join them. Foley pocketed the book as she drew near. "We are moving out to find this cottage you spoke of, Miss Anne. Your friend here has convinced me that it will be more than worth our while." Harville was instantly by her side He escorted her to the wagon, and saw her seated. He climbed up beside her, and as he straightened the reins, under his breath, said, "He's going to kill me." She was about to ask what he meant when MacMurphy joined them. "No monkey business, Commander, you are in my custody now." He touched his hat and nodded to Anne. "Yes, you are." With that, he knocked on the side of the wagon's seat and walked away to rejoin his men. Harville slapped the reins and the horse pulled against his load. "Aye," he called back. "I expected as much." To her, he said, "If the Captain were not such a good friend to me, I would wish we do not find him." Thoughts of Frederick helpless and alone filled her mind. “Why is that?” Anne asked, a little fearfully. "Because,” Harville murmured, “I just gave away everything we've worked so hard to attain." *** "Do you recognise any of this?" Harville waved his hand to indicate the path and bushes. He wiped his face with a black handkerchief. They had just passed through a pocket of mist held over the path by the thick foliage. Anne thought it ironic that he had used what was likely his own disguise in such a careless manner. She looked to the left and to the right. There was nothing distinctive about any of their surroundings and it was useless to continue the obfuscation. "One moment, I think so; the next, not so much." Exasperated, she pushed a large, scraggly branch out of her face. As she tried to keep it from striking the Commander, the wagon hit a rut and bounced. There was no stopping the forward momentum and they broke into a clearing. In the clearing stood a small, nondescript cottage. "This is it," she declared. Impulsively, she stood. She grabbed the back of the seat to keep from falling as she said, "I remember when Frederick carried me to into the yard, two men were chopping wood." Scattered around the enclosure were large sections of tree trunks and large, gnarled limbs. The drag marks around them were not fresh, likely having seen several seasons of rain. There was little evidence of any industry other than from necessity. Many hearth-sized pieces lay rotting into the soft green grass. MacMurphy came alongside the wagon. "Miss Anne, please wait." He dismounted and started towards the cottage. Anne ignored his order. "Please help me, Commander." "I think he's right on this." She gave him such a look that he complied. She made her way around obstacles in the yard as they went to the cottage, but stopped short of the doorway. "He put me here, on this bench. And he brought me water from around there." She pointed to the side of the house. MacMurphy
turned when he heard her voice. "What I said earlier about your
similarities to my horse still applies, Miss Anne." He nodded for a
man to go around the side of the house. Foley did so and soon returned, smiling. "There's a bucket catchin' rain water. Someone's been weaving wattle back here. Holds with the story about plasterin'. Best thing, Sir, there's a hide. Empty, not used for an age, but a hide none the less." The Lieutenant signalled the men to search the area. He joined Anne and Harville before the door of the cottage. "It's uninhabited I believe. The windows are covered. But, we've been making enough noise out here to waken the dead and considering the suspicious nature of these people, someone would have come out to see what's up." He walked to the door and pushed it open. He looked back. "It seems we needn't worry about interrupting anyone." He walked in. Anne was glad for Harville's arm as they walked slowly through the door. As they entered into the darkness, she thought of the room's past warmth and the days she shared with Frederick. There was none of that now. Though the door had been ajar, the smell of the place was rank with the smells of tobacco, food, and sweat. There was no longer any order to the place. Scattered around an overturned cupboard were several of the work bowls and utensils she had used to help prepare the Christmas dinner. Several others were broken, their pieces scattered amongst the fine linens Aine had used on the table. As they came more fully into the room, she realised the floor was littered with hard and soft bits. She chose not to look down. The table itself was bare of any cloth or napkins, but was strewn with dishes and glasses; a few broken; and serving dishes. Many still held bits of dried food. "This is all a few days old. Funny that the rats haven't gotten to it." Anne jumped when MacMurphy pushed a plate and it upset a glass of beer. The initial shattering of the glass shot through the empty place like a hammer's blow. "The place wasn't so dark before." She said it to herself with no expectation that anyone was listening to her. A tapping noise drew their attention to MacMurphy. "The windows are shuttered on the inside, to keep anyone from sneaking a look." He flipped the latch and pushed the shutters open. The sudden burst of light exposed more chaos than first thought. MacMurphy stepped away from the window and noticed the stairs to the loft. He motioned two men to go up. A bare branch vigorously rapped on the window, startling all three of them. "A lot could happen inside a place like this." The lieutenant looked around some more. Anne thought it heartless, as he knew she hoped to find Frederick, or some clue to his whereabouts. "Do you say this to frighten me?" He looked apologetic. "No, Miss, I say it to warn you. To prepare us all." He walked to the mantle and looked at the clock. It had run down. "The place is full of smuggled goods. The fine china—oh, the silver is missing—the crystal, this clock is London made. Some of the fabrics are foreign and costly. Did you notice this during your time here, Miss Anne?" "I did. Captain Wentworth and I discussed this on our way to Dublin." "Speaking of him, I see no traces of his ever being here." "Maybe this will tell us something." Harville was standing at the entry of the new room. Anne and MacMurphy joined him. The room was smashed up terribly. Several jagged holes in the plaster stood in sharp relief to the white paint. A chair was broken and the pieces spread over the floor. The rough-hewn wood mingled with a man's coat, pants, and stockings. She recognised them instantly. Anne shrugged by the men and picked up a black kerchief tied in a large knot. "These things are Frederick's, aren't they Commander?" Harville and MacMurphy crossed the threshold and joined her. Harville reached for kerchief, but Anne held it back. "Aye, we wore black. Sailors don't care for black all that much. Unless it's the colour signifying their ship." He turned to MacMurphy and they began to speak. Anne turned away and looked over the room. She recalled Frederick showing her the space. Now that she'd spoken to Harville, she understood his desire for admiration. This was the work of his hands, ruined by the hands of others. She was greatly disturbed by his clothing; on closer view, everything was torn and completely ruined. They were stained as well. She set her mind to finding him and not speculating any further about that. The soldiers seemed to have multiplied and it seemed they were everywhere, stamping, and searching, but all they accomplished was to disturb the tomblike atmosphere. She gradually realised the MacMurphy and Harville's voices were growing louder, making it difficult to concentrate. MacMurphy was ready to quit the place saying there was no sense wasting more time at the cottage. He was determined to return to Dublin. Harville was for pushing onto the inn where they had planned to meet. Neither was right, of that she was sure. The cottage was the key to finding Frederick. She turned away and examined the mantle. There were two tankards set on it, as were a trowel and paintbrush. It was then she realised there was no longer a gaping space destined to become a closet. The continuous white wall now joined the mantle. The room was now complete. Frederick had completed the room. Anne clutched the kerchief and felt a chill engulf her. "I know where he is," she called to them. "The woman living here said they would make a closet in which to store troublesome household things. I thought it strange at the time." She looked from one to the other. The men went to the mantle. "I am afraid I can't believe that, Miss Anne. It is too…" "Barbaric," Harville finished the thought. "But listen." He tapped lower and lower on the all. "There is something in there." Harville was feeling the wall with his palm of his hand. "I am no expert, but this paint is fresh. As there's been no fire, it's still a bit damp. And see here," he pointed. "This joint is badly finished. Someone did this in a hurry, Lieutenant." MacMurphy's
expression was thoughtful, as Anne had come to know it. "You there,”
he ordered. “Break down
this wall!" Harville stood back with Anne as the soldiers began to beat the wall to pieces. "Take some care, fellows!" MacMurphy said. "He's navy but we want him in one piece." He looked to Anne and Harville. "Perhaps, Miss Anne Elliot, you should step into the other room." "Ho, there somethin' here!" The plaster was coming away in great bits now. Anne was horrified to see her dear Frederick, bound, nearly naked, and unconscious, slumped in the bottom of the wall. Anne stayed out of the way until his head lolled to one side and she saw his battered face. She wrenched away from Harville and went to him. She knew there were men around her, lifting him gently out of his prison, but she saw none of them. It was only a few steps to a clear place where he might be laid, but in those few seconds, she had her cloak off for a covering. In her nervousness, she unknotted his kerchief and now called for water. His face was a mass of dried blood and bruises. She was loath to put the filthy thing on him, but daubed at them anyway. She heard the Lieutenant call for a basin of water and blankets. The men murmured amongst themselves. Anne heard their words of pity and dread, but she would not allow herself to accept them. She vowed she would not cry before them as she knelt over Frederick's unmoving frame. Nothing she did brought a response. Hope and despair mingled in her prayers. Her lips touched his. "Please, God, please." She held her own breath, waiting to feel the slightest touch of his.
Chapter 6 coming soon
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