The Gift of Circumstance #2
“Capt-” Anne cleared her throat. Of a sudden, Wentworth understood what she attempted to say.
A foreboding hit him the same as one who knows a blow is coming that cannot be evaded.
“Captain Wentworth, I would introduce to you my friend from school, now Mrs. Harriet Smith, and her nurse and friend Mrs. Rooke.”
Wentworth bit his tongue when that second tear slid down her cheek.
The pain in his chest could not keep elation at bay.
His humiliation for his leaps of presumption and causing her pain was complete.
The joy he felt at learning she was not Mrs. Smith was more than he would feel for any gift that might be handed to him.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Captain. I spent three days at Kellynch Hall with Anne, making the acquaintance of your brother Edward, oh, it feels just hours ago. But, of course, it has been days. He is in great anticipation of your visit. He attempted to persuade us to remain for your arrival, but Anne had finished handing out baskets for the tenants. Travel at this time of year is never simple, as you know, so we left this afternoon when, suddenly, we realized snow was soon to fall. She is to spend Christmas with her family in Bath, and I go to live with my sister who is also there.”
“I had thought-” Wentworth cleared his throat. “Forgive me. It is, indeed, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Rooke.”
“It is a very great pleasure to make yours. Your brother dined with us all three nights at Kellynch Hall,” Mrs. Smith said.
Wentworth now understood why both this lady and Sophia were so very excited at the coincidence of it all.
“Frederick, do please sit. You need not stand so long on ceremony,” Sophia chastised.
“Of course,” Wentworth murmured, pulling out his chair. He shifted it two inches to the left so he was directly across from Anne. Is she still Miss Anne Elliott?, he wondered to himself. The unmistakable hope at the thought she yet might be proved he was not over her, and was likely to never be.
“I am certain Edward was pleased to dine with such happy company, Mrs. Smith. I had just wondered if the guests the innkeeper said came from Uppercross might know our brother, did I not, Frederick?” Sophia again directed conversation to him.
“You had. I was skeptical our curate brother could be so well known. I was wrong, and beg your forgiveness, Soph,” Wentworth said to his sister, but his eyes were fixed on Anne. It was hers he most desired to catch sight of.
“Oh, Frederick, it was a tease. I know you were only making sport of dear Edward. There is no need for such gravity. This is hardly the worst of circumstances.”
The innkeeper and his wife brought to the table six crocks filled with a fragrant and rich venison stew, fresh butter, warm bread, mulled wine, and mugs of mead. “You will want to save room for my Janessa’s Christmas pudding.” They then left their guests to enjoy conversation.
Before he remembered he should not, Wentworth picked up the bottle filled with the spiced wine, most abundant during the holidays, pouring a measure in Anne’s glass. Her surprise gave him pause, but it was too late to change course.
“Thank you,” Anne whispered. “I am surprised and pleased you recall my preference.”
“Whilst I am not. Frederick forgets little. That is why he made captain before many of his age are a commander,” the admiral said, lifting a mug of mead to again toast the accomplishment of his wife’s brother.
“I had read of it and offer my congratulations again, Captain,” Anne said, curling her hand around the glass he had filled for her. “I asked your brother to send the same sentiment from the Elliotts in his next letter the day I saw it in the broadsheets.”
“I regret I have not yet received it. Perhaps the letter awaits my arrival at the next port,” Wentworth said, offering her equal understanding as she had explained to him how she attempted to send him word.
Wentworth knew he would not leave Uppercross before discussing with Edward why it had not been included in the last letter. To think Anne had attempted to send him word? Had she tried before and his brother not passed it forward?
Just as disconcerting was that it seemed no time had passed. Their understanding of one another was in no way faded. She had soothed him, and he knew, despite her placid expression of pleasantness, she was as overset as he.
“Ah, that is sometimes the way of it, particularly when one makes land. Letters are often further adrift than the one it is meant for. Why, once we did not catch up to Edward’s letter until we were in Gibraltar,” the admiral said, earning tittles from both Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Rooke.
When Anne relaxed with the turn of conversation, with her slight shift Wentworth felt her boot against his. He would admit to none that he had purposefully stretched his legs further than was polite hoping for that very thing.
And there was his reward, her gaze resting on him. He gave her a smile of apology, slight enough to not gain his sister’s attention. His chest eased when she returned one of her own, though more with her eyes than in an alteration of her lips.
“Do you accompany the admiral when he sails, Mrs. Croft?” Anne asked, her admiration for the lady seen in the brightening of her expression.
“I refuse to stay on shore. I am unable to reconcile myself to such separation. I prefer any circumstance to that,” Mrs. Croft said.
The look of love passing between Mrs. Croft and the admiral caused Wentworth to clear his throat, a subtle reminder they were not alone.
“I am positively desperate to hear of your exploits,” Mrs. Smith said, her quivering voice proof of her assertion.
Sophia and Mrs. Smith led conversation for the remainder of the evening. Wentworth was satisfied. He had to do little more than a chuckle when others laughed, and nod on those occasions he was mentioned.
He spent the whole of the evening chasing and evading the eyes of his Anne. They haunted him when he remembered them filled with the tears of their goodbye. These were the very eyes that tormented him when he remembered them filled with the passionate love he inspired in her.
***
“Well, I am suddenly quite exhausted,” Sophia said nearly an hour after the Christmas pudding had been enjoyed.
“I am not surprised, my dear. We traveled some few miles today overland, a far harder feat than is done by sea,” the admiral teased his wife.
Wentworth pressed his lips together to hide his smirk.
It had been a tactful agreement rather than suggesting Sophia and Mrs. Smith had spoken for nearly three hours together without drawing breath.
The sight of Anne pressing her lips together, a betrayal of her mirth, loosed a guffaw he attempted to muffle in a cough.
Anne stood, waving for the gentlemen to stay seated, herself going to the innkeeper. The man gave a nod and Anne returned to her chair. “Do take your time. I will come up in an hour, perhaps a little more,” she told her two travel companions.
“You are so good to me, Miss Anne,” Mrs. Smith kissed Anne’s hand, “taking me to my sister when I had no notion of how I might accomplish it on my own.”
Two stable hands appeared to lift Mrs. Smith from the chair in which she sat. Wentworth saw his sister and the admiral had no prior knowledge of the lady’s malediction. They looked to Anne once Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Rooke were up the stairs.
“She has been ill. Her husband had assured her there were funds set aside for her care. Now, Mr. Smith is dead and his solicitor claims otherwise. To raise her spirits, for no one should be alone this season meant for family, I convey her to her sister. It is difficult to find someone who would look into this financial matter. My father and his solicitor are” -Anne’s cheeks reddened with her sudden embarrassment- “unlikely to help someone in such reduced circumstances.”
“Allow me,” Wentworth said, wondering if she knew he held his breath in his hope of her accepting the offer.
“I could not ask it-”
“You do not, I offer it. Provide me their names. I will be glad of the task whilst my ship is prepared. I have two, perhaps three weeks. You would know the truth of the situation, at the very least.”
“I appreciate the offer and accept on behalf of my friend, Fred… Captain.”
Wentworth could no more keep the overwhelming disappointment at bay for her correcting herself than he could the desperate wish to hear his given name again fall from her lips.
“It is you who grants the favor. I am glad to have purpose. I will begin as soon as our visit with Edward is ended. I believe Sophia and the admiral intend to stay only six nights, intending to spend Twelfth night with his family.”
“We must make the most of being on shore during this time of year, Miss Anne,” the admiral said, lifting his wife’s hand to his lips.
“Of course.” Anne blushed.
“Far be it for me to question your wish to do a good turn, Frederick, but why so adamant?” Sophia asked.
“A valid question. Anne and I were-”
“Are,” Anne cut in. “We are still friends, though my family do not always show themselves in the best of light. We became acquainted when the captain visited your brother just after he became the curate for Kellynch Parish.”
“Indeed, we did,” Wentworth said, enjoying her look of gratitude for his allowance of their claiming friendship.
“Well, why did you not say so?” Sophia asked, affronted at not being informed.
“I have a great love of learning what is seen on lands far away. No doubt, it was for me the captain did not turn the conversation. He has long known I enjoy it above almost any other adventures one may share.”
“Oh, well.” Sophia blushed. “I am glad to know the evening was so pleasing for you both.”
“I speak true when I tell you that the hours in your company have been the happiest I have known these last five years,” Anne said.