The Gift of Circumstance
Kimbelle Pease
Reintroduction to Anne’s Society in Persuasion.
The Gander’s Nest Inn, Somersetshire
Captain Fredrick Wentworth looked through the blowing snow, relieved to see the shadows growing larger. He knocked on the coach to gain the attention of those within.
“Would you please come inside, Frederick?” Mrs. Sophia Croft, his sister and wife of Admiral Croft, pleaded with him a third time.
“We are but a half league away, perhaps less. I will go ahead, inform the proprietor of our return and secure us rooms.”
Wentworth nodded at the admiral then pressed forward.
He followed the road lined by houses, relieved they were again in the small town they had left only two hours previous.
The captain let his mount choose his own path, aware it would be safer than any he could direct to the warm stables it sought.
“Prepare for a carriage, it is just behind me,” Wentworth said, making a careful dismount so his foot would not slide from under him.
“I remember you, sir,” the stable hand said when he was passed the reins.
“Take care of him, and the horses on the carriage, young man.”
“We will.” The lad pocketed the coin Wentworth offered, guiding the mount away after he had taken his saddlebags.
Once within, the greenery around the banister and door caught his eye after the bleak of the storm.
As soon as the proprietor saw him again, the man’s greetings were cheerful and welcoming as the warmth of the room.
“Welcome back, Captain. We certainly did not expect the snow to come in so fast. We are glad you are safely returned. Your party follows?”
“The carriage is just behind me. Do you have rooms?”
“Is two enough?”
“Exactly.”
“It was good of the other party to occupy one room out of concern for any who might be caught in the storm. It is rare we have overnight guests with Uppercross just down the road but a half-day’s journey.”
“We thought we could make it there ahead of the snow.”
Wentworth was not paying great attention to the innkeeper whilst waiting for his sister to appear. The opening of the door gave him the relief he had prayed for, her laugh preceding her.
“And there he is, my love. No sea tempest has yet felled him. These small clusters are but a gale wind for the great Captain Wentworth,” Admiral Croft proclaimed, grinning at Captain Wentworth when he saw Sophia roll her eyes at them both.
“He is quite correct, Soph. There was no cause to fear for me. I was worried the carriage might get stuck,” Wentworth said, moving toward his sister. “Your room is ready. And I am also in luck, for there is one for me.”
“Excellent, most excellent,” the admiral said, guiding his wife to the fireplace, also decorated with greenery on which hung ornaments at intervals, before taking her cloak. “Are there any other guests?”
“A Mrs. Smith is traveling with her nurse and a friend. They left Uppercross this afternoon and decided to stop here for the evening to avoid the snowfall. They make for Bath, I understand.”
“And we come from Dorset making for Uppercross,” Sophia said, eyes bright with her natural joy. “I wonder if they know Edward?”
“Our brother may be quite famous in our eyes, Soph, but I do not expect all those from or passing through Uppercross to know of him.” Wentworth chuckled.
Wentworth saw the lad from the stable came in with the traveling trunk for the Crofts, followed by a younger man with the smaller one belonging to him. They also returned taking hot water to their rooms.
“My wife made an excellent venison stew for dinner. Will you come down, or do you prefer trays to be sent to your rooms?” The innkeeper inquired of his new guests.
“What do your other guests intend?” Mrs. Croft cast a sly look at her brother.
“Despite popular belief, it is not the season for matchmaking, Soph.” Wentworth rolled his eyes, returning the gesture of amusement to his sister.
“Any season is a matchmaking season when one is a happily married woman with two single brothers who should have wed long ago, particularly in the Christmas season, for I can think of no greater gift either of my brothers could give me than a sister-in-law.” Sophia patted his cheek.
“I see you are wise enough to retreat when the point cannot be won,” the proprietor said with a sly wink in Sophia’s direction.
“It is amusing that men are convinced love follows the calendar, a task to complete at a certain age and a certain time of year. That is for marriages of convenience. Love is quite on its own timeline,” Sophia said, then bid her husband to take her to their room.
“Are women ever in the wrong?” Captain Wentworth asked the innkeeper, pointing at a cask of mead.
“Not in my experience. Even when they are wrong, they have followed a very logical path of thought that makes their opinion just as correct as our own. It is we men who are the fools that do not see things as we should.”
“How is it you have come to be so wise?”
“I had five sisters clobbering me over the head with books and boots until I began to inquire of their thoughts and proved willing to listen to them. Now I ask my wife how she arrived at her opinion before I dare say she is wrong, which she never is,” the innkeeper added, grinning at the comely woman who walked out of his kitchen.
“And that is why I let you stay… alive,” the woman said with a cheeky smile while setting plates on a table. “I sent Sissy home for the night, Paul. She has to walk a near mile in that squall.”
“I expected no less, my dove. With stew and pudding for her and her dear ma?”
“Of course, you softhearted man.” The woman patted the innkeeper’s arm on her way back to the kitchen.
“We have another three guests, Janessa.”
“So I see. I will set their table after I place more bread to warm.”
Captain Wentworth made his way to his room, amused by the couple and, if he were honest, a little jealous.
Damn, but I do not want to go to Uppercross.
Five years is not near enough time to forget Anne Elliott.
I pray Edward does not speak of her in front of Sophia.
Should he, I will have to admit I lost my heart in the place we are to spend Christmas together for the first time in too long, the only place I vowed never to return.
The captain swallowed down his mead then changed from his wet clothes. He prepared to dine with his sister, the admiral, and, if he had very bad luck, the three ladies from Uppercross his sister would, no doubt, invite to join them.
***
As Captain Wentworth approached the common room, he found himself incapable of comprehending the scene. His sister sat at a table with the very woman who broke his heart in the year ’06, now Mrs. Smith according to the proprietor of the inn?
Wentworth retreated up the steps as silently as could be managed, then sequestered himself in his room. The vision of her, in the style of today, her hair pinned up, a smile gracing her face, was the very picture of pleasantness.
Wentworth’s first thought was, How far she is altered when compared to the memory of her crying before me whilst she rejected my proposal after accepting it only two weeks prior.
For those two weeks, he had been near immortal. No man could do him harm, for Anne Elliot would be his wife. It was true, no man had rendered him asunder. She had torn the relation apart and cast him adrift with a love unfulfilled.
Wentworth paced his room the short three strides it afforded before turning around again, making him feel the caged beast. “Damn foolish,” he growled when he caught sight of himself. “I shall send word to Soph, for I have no wish to dine with Mrs. Smith-”
A sudden and immense weight pressed on his chest. Wentworth could hardly draw breath with the thought, She is not Anne Elliot, but Mrs. Smith.
She did not spend these five years longing for me as I did her.
Did she once think of me when in his arms?
Whilst I could not evict her from my mind or heart, she was in his bed and I spent every night alone.
“I prove myself damned foolish.” Wentworth yanked open the door.
If she could move on with such ease, then it was only a Mr. Smith whom she had truly loved. Wentworth made a vow to himself: Mrs. Anne Smith will claim not a minute more of my time. Anger surged in his breast as he stalked down the stairs, moving to the table now set for six.
“Frederick, you will never believe the coincidence,” Sophia said, waving for him to take the empty seat at the table. “It was quite extraordinary to learn you are already acquainted with-”
“Yes, Soph, I chanced to meet Mrs. Smith when I visited Edward in the year ’06.”
“I do not believe-” Anne tried to clarify, but the Captain interrupted.
“I confess surprise at Mrs. Smith remembering me at all,” Wentworth said, his gaze locked on the woman he never believed he would again be in the presence of.
A tear dropped on Anne’s cheek. Wentworth’s stomach roiled when he saw the shock and sudden sadness on the face of the woman he had once loved with every fiber of his being, the woman he still loved, though he resented her for inspiring such feelings in him.
“Captain Wentworth, allow me to…”
Lacking the ability to draw breath, Anne could get no more words out.
Wentworth suspected that was for the best. Now, if he could make it upstairs before a second tear dropped from her eyes, he might not make a fool of himself and fall to his knees before her.
He felt brutish for being the cause of the first, though his pride felt it fitting that he witnessed her distress.
Her knowing any pain was like a knife to his heart, and he was the source of it.
“Indeed, I am certain we have not been introduced,” a voice that was shrill and excited cut through as little else might have done. “Miss Anne, you have met the captain and are a dear friend. Do please introduce us.”