Chapter Five #2
Captain Wentworth’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, and he shook his head. “That was unworthy of me. It is uncomfortable to think that his opinion of me may be swayed from what it once was, due to the change in my circumstances since I have returned to England.”
“His opinion?” Anne furrowed her brow, wondering if he cared for her opinion at all. Perhaps it was only she who had suffered, who suffered still; perhaps eight years had been sufficient for him to forget her, and to remember only the slight.
“I comprehend yours,” he said softly. “I do not require any reminder nor repetition of the sentiments you expressed at our last parting. After so many years, I hope we are both mature enough to be civil, if we are to be in company together. You do prefer to keep the peace, as I recall.”
Anne flinched. She forced herself to meet his eye, silently imploring him to show her mercy, but he remained cold in his address.
“Your relations will certainly spare you from bearing too much of my company, and I believe my own sister has some particular notion of where she wishes to direct my attention. I would not have you think me acting out of spite, when I gratify her predisposition toward a certain young lady.”
Mrs. Croft had a long-standing acquaintance with Mrs. Gardiner; of course his sister should favor Miss Bennet already.
Anne could not begrudge any of them for thinking of such a thing.
Indeed, she might have thought it perfectly natural, but for the bitterness that seeped into his words.
They rang false, and she feared that he did wish her to feel a modicum of spite in his actions, that though he might genuinely like Miss Bennet, he would take a resentful satisfaction in perhaps inspiring Anne’s jealousy.
She was wounded, but she had not the spirit to reply with anything like his glacial hostility. Anne gave him a slow, sad nod of her head as she tried to make herself smile at him. “We are both fond of good company. We are sure to make new friends amongst so large a party.”
He stared at her, his mouth twitching as if to suppress his instinctive reply, and finally Captain Wentworth gave her a slight, civil bow. “I wish you… good luck. My sister means well; your own relations will likely be as helpful to you as they have ever been.”
Anne was left reeling for some reply when he turned and stalked away, and fortunately Elizabeth swiftly came to her aid.
When the two gentlemen left the library, Anne repeated the substance of her conversation with Captain Wentworth to Elizabeth, who made no secret of her indignation. “How unaccountably rude of him!”
“He has not forgiven me. I have used him ill. I rejected and disappointed him, showing a feebleness of character in doing so, which his own confident temper cannot endure. Once there were no two hearts so open, but now we are strangers – worse than strangers, for we may never become acquainted. It is to be a perpetual estrangement.”
Elizabeth’s face twisted with compassion and dismay. “Anne, how could you tolerate such insolence, such vicious indifference? I daresay he means to torment you, to punish you, and I fear he thinks to involve my sister.”
“Oh, no, Lizzy,” Anne softly assured her.
“He would not behave so badly as that. He may be angry with me, but he is not a cruel man, and he would never use a young lady so falsely. I am sure he does admire her – she is lovely and kind, and I daresay just as worthy as I know you are. Perhaps I ought to wish him well, even if he expressed that sentiment so caustically.”
“You are far too good for him, Anne.” Elizabeth squeezed her hands and smiled warmly, her words in absolute earnest. “Truly, you are even more of an angel than my dear Jane, which is saying a great deal. I begin to think you both deserve better than such a petulant baby! Really, men are so childish. It never occurs to them that a lady might refuse them, and when she does, they grow utterly unbearable! If Mr. Darcy is still aghast that his fortune is no substitute for any discernible charms after….”
Elizabeth clamped a hand over her mouth and stared aghast at Anne, who, to her own astonishment, began to laugh uncontrollably.
The tears she had managed not to shed in the face of Captain Wentworth’s severity now streamed down her cheeks, tears of mirth and not mortification.
She laughed until her sides ached, as Elizabeth watched her with bemusement.
“Oh, Lizzy, you are a wonder! I need hardly be cross about anything, when you have the fury of a small army.”
Elizabeth sputtered with rueful laughter. “I would by no means trespass on your rightful outage.”
“I am saddened, Lizzy, but I am not angry. But I am also resolved to recover, as best I can. Pray, do not cease your delightful candor, now, for I should rather forget all my complaints and hear more of yours. Who is Mr. Darcy, and what ghastly thing did he do to earn your decided loathing?”
Elizabeth hesitated, and for a moment Anne feared she had been too presumptuous with her new friend, but finally she broke into a bright smile.
The two women linked arms and made their way back to the library, taking a circuitous route.
Anne was treated to a lively and shocking story, which was perhaps a little embellished for her entertainment, but she gave every proper reply of indignation for Elizabeth’s ill-usage, just as her friend had done for her.
Anne was grateful that she had been so fortunate in her new acquaintance, for Elizabeth’s cheerful irreverence and decided opinions were just the thing to distract her from her disappointment after speaking to Captain Wentworth.
By the time they rejoined the rest of their party, the merry pair had agreed that all gentlemen were indeed great blockheads, most of them lacking in humor and heart as much as in wit, and far too few of them had the decency to at least be handsome enough to be worth all the bother.