Changing Perceptions

by A_girl_in_Green_Gables

Summary:

A retelling of persuasion starting from when Wentworth arrives at Kellynch. This time however, he brings with him a friend and his sister. The friend who already knows all about Anne Elliot and the pain she put him through. What would happen if there was someone who was aware of the whole dynamic between them from the very start

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The talk around Captain Wentworth’s imminent arrival was all that could be heard in both Uppercross and the cottage. The excitement in having new faces and youth within their society had meant there had been little talk of anything else amongst the young people, and the unpredictability of his arrival meant there was an added layer of mystic and anticipation to the visit. Everyone was desperate to meet him, everyone that was except Anne Elliot. Anne had been suffering terribly her anxiety in meeting him again after eight long years had heightened her senses, she heard every mention of his name, every snippet of conversation that alluded to him and every potential plan that would be put into action once he arrived. It was driving her mad the incessant and torturous nature of it. She could think of nothing else; her head was spinning round and round with one word echoing through it. Wentworth.

‘He is to bring with him a friend and his sister as well. Though Admiral Croft could not tell me who they were, some sea faring fellow as well I imagine.’

‘Charles! When did you meet with Admiral Croft?’

‘They happened upon me in the gig on my way back to the cottage Mary, I did not seek them out.’

‘Oh, I wonder who they will be! It is so exciting having naval officers in the neighbourhood! Though I do hope they will remember their respect when it comes to them meeting us Anne, they ought to feel some sort of gratitude to the previous owners of their fine lodgings.’

Anne made no reply, instead taking a sip of her tea. They were gathered at the table in the cottage, taking tea after dinner. The day had long since slipped into darkness and Anne was exhausted from caring for and playing with her nephews. She didn’t want to think about Wentworth any longer, the very thought of him being in the country already was too much to bear but the idea of him among his family and friends sitting in the place she had once called home filled her with a feeling of intense longing and pain.

‘I dare say you invited them to dine with us did you not Charles?’

‘My mother had beat me to it, for that is who they were returning from, we are all to dine together at Uppercross tomorrow.’

Anne felt her grip slip, the cup hitting the saucer with a clatter.

‘Do be careful Anne! You will wake the boys and then what! This peace that we have been so lucky to be afforded, for you know I am never afforded it for long will be gone!’

‘I’m sorry Mary, I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Are you all right Anne, you are looking quite pale?’

‘Quite, quite! Perhaps only tired. I may retire now if you don’t mind.’

She stood waving off Charles’ offer to escort her to her room. She needed to be alone. Tomorrow. She was no fool, she had known ever since the Crofts had moved in that there was the possibility that she would have to see him, but she did not think it would be so soon. What would he think of her.

She knew the years had not been kind to her appearance, she had lost the glow of youth and time had stripped her of any hope she once held. This coupled with the embarrassing twist of fate her family now found themselves in was almost too much to bear. He would see her single and all alone, being moved from house to house only being accepted in her usefulness, and he would think of how he had offered her a way out and she had thrown it back in his face. He would probably revel in the change of circumstances. He would think she deserved it, and she did, she had had her chance at happiness, and she had lost it.

She wiped at her face; her eyes had been silently streaming as she had made her way to her room. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror but splashed her face in the basin, the cold water shocking her back to the present. It would have to be endured; there was nothing else to be done. She had made her decision and now she had to live with it, no matter how hard it was and how many regrets she had. She would see him tomorrow, it would be painful, but she would do it, it was all she could do.

Chapter 2: 2

Summary:

We move. Really going to try and stay consistent with this!

Three miles away, in a grand study, lowly lit by a dying fire, sat Wentworth. His gaze far away, but his thoughts on a similar subject matter. The brandy in his glass had been turned amber by the light and he swirled it absentmindedly around his glass as he pondered.

‘Wentworth, I have never seen a man so tormented over a return to polite society.’

The gentleman opposite him leant forward, resting his arms on his knees and staring at his friend hard.

‘Please do not tell me your thoughts stray to her; it has been eight years.’

Wentworth’s eyes flashed hotly, returning from his far-off memories, and he pulled himself up straighter, glowering at him.

‘Of course not. I am no longer some schoolboy lover, Richard! It’s being here, in this place—the last time I was here, I had nothing—nothing but myself to recommend me, which, to those people, wasn’t enough. And now to find myself suddenly sitting in their place, our situations now completely opposite. Well, it’s unnerving!’

Richard nodded. He knew all this, of course. His friendship with Wentworth had spanned from the very beginning of his career. They had set out together, and he had witnessed firsthand the broken boy that had come from this country to make his fortune at sea. Both of them with a desperate desire to make something of themselves.

They had met on board a sloop, sharing a room and becoming close friends. At first, he had not known what to think of the man who now sat opposite him. Wentworth arrived sad and sullen, unwilling to engage, with a dark cloud over his head that could turn quickly to rage if provoked. Richard had nearly felt it better to avoid him altogether than to try and form any sort of acquaintance. However, one night, several months into their first venture, he had seen a different side. Wentworth had shared the whole sorry tale with him over one too many drinks at a port somewhere, that he couldn’t even remember the name of, and he had begun to understand him.

From that point on, whatever temper he had been in began to lift. He still had his moments, of course, but Wentworth began to live again, and since then they had become very close friends. Richard had never forgotten that story though, and while Wentworth went to great pains after to conceal the hold that she had had on him, Richard never forgot the name of the woman who had broken his friend’s heart.

He thought Anne Elliot a fool. For after that moment, when he had begun to see the real Wentworth, he immediately recognised the brilliance that his friend had—the drive and the determination. He knew he would go far in life, and once Richard had witnessed this, he had decided that Frederick Wentworth was someone he was going to follow—and so far, he had not been steered wrong. For Anne Elliot to have thought differently was something that he could not reconcile his mind to. If they had been in love, truly in love, and she had seen even a glimmer of the character that his friend had, and was still willing to let him go—well, he thought she had to have little to recommend herself to him, and he couldn’t fathom why his friend would waste any more time thinking about her.

‘I see, I see. Of course. It must be hard being back here.’

Wentworth reclined back, nodding.

‘Does Sophie know anything of your history here?’

‘No, and I would prefer to keep it that way.’

Richard didn’t reply. A sound at the door interrupted the room as she appeared.

‘There you boys are. I am for retiring, but felt, as host, I would check if my guests required anything further.’

Wentworth snapped out of his daze, looking at his sister fondly.

‘How attentive of you, Sophie. I fear becoming mistress of this estate has changed you; I don’t remember receiving such attention the last time I visited.’

She scoffed.

‘Richard, Frederick would have you believe I starved him and made him sleep in the stables! That is unfair of him, is it not?’

‘Highly unfair! You have been a most gracious host, Sophie. I am in want for nothing and have everything that one could possibly need!’

Wentworth scoffed.

‘Oh, how you fawn, Richard! I shall leave the room if I have to listen to any more simpering!’

He laughed in return.

‘I think, Frederick, you could learn some manners from him! You may be a captain now, my boy, but don’t you forget who I am!’

‘I am perfectly content with everything that you have provided, Sophie; indeed, I could not have asked for a more generous welcome to the country!’

Wentworth got up then and moved to give his sister a kiss on the cheek, while she swatted him away.

‘It is getting late. I hope you remember: we have plans to dine at Uppercross tomorrow.’

A shadow passed quickly over Wentworth’s face before he returned it to a neutral expression.

‘Of course, I am looking forward to it. I have heard that there are two very pleasant young ladies there that are very engaging.’

He turned to wink at Richard before turning back to Sophie, his friend staring back at him, his eyes narrowing as he could see right through this facade.

Sophie rolled her eyes.

‘Well, on that note, I believe I shall take my leave. Good evening to you both. Richard—just so you are aware—I have placed Catherine in the room beside you. Poor thing was exhausted after dinner, so she retired early.’

‘Thank you, Sophie.’

She waved her hand.

‘I shall see you tomorrow.’

Chapter 3: 3

Summary:

I know these chapters are kind of short but it's kind of as much as I can do at the moment! Hopefully they are ok!

Dinner was going well. Wentworth liked the Musgrove’s exceedingly. Their open manners and honest interactions were a breath of fresh air. He had not really had time to consider what they would be like before Sophie had told them they were engaged to spend the evening with them, but now that he was here, he was enjoying himself immensely. The seating arrangement had been beneficial to him as well, having been placed in between both Louisa and Henrietta, by whose design he could not tell, but he was not minding the attention. He found them diverting companions, and he was able to use his knowledge and experience to have them soon fawning over his stories and gasping at his heroism. 

Richard who sat to the other side of Henrietta, to his credit, allowed this foolish behaviour. He knew all the stories that he was telling – indeed, he had been there for most of them, and while he didn’t remember quite so many of the exaggerated details, he was a good enough friend to not call him out on it. The two girls were extremely interested in the sea, and even more so the eligible captains. Wentworth, he considered was doing better with them than he was. Richard did not mind this, however, for he was not inclined to be very open instead preferring to observe, but despite this he too was enjoying the warm welcome and the gentle inquiries from Mrs Musgrove, as well as the kindness of the Admiral in including him in the stories. 

Richard could not remember the last time he had enjoyed a family dinner, having been on the move for so many years. He was glad Wentworth had persuaded him and Catherine to join; it would be good for them. Catherine too, it seemed was enjoying herself. She was laughing gaily at Wentworth’s stories, calling him out a bit more than the other two ladies were, for she had a bit more experience than they did in these matters, and conspiring with Sophie when she thought Wentworth had gone too far. 

To her credit, Richard thought, Sophie had not yet been tempted into calling Wentworth out on his behaviour. She had sat back during the dinner and was instead sizing him up. It would be good for Catherine to have her Richard thought, he respected Sophie a great deal and thought that whatever wisdom she had would be perfect for Catherine. For Catherine had no other female relatives to look up to. She would help her a great deal in navigating the life with sailors - not that Catherine couldn’t hold her own already; she was as loud and boisterous as the rest of them, but she was young, and any strong role model for her would be beneficial. 

Overall, they were both having a wonderful evening. Richard found nothing wanting and was happy in a quiet way. Wentworth too, having his expectations succeeded was content, apart from one thing that he would change, and that was Mary Musgrove. He had never known her before, she having been at school the last time he had frequented the country and meeting her now he held no regret in not having made her acquaintance. 
She sat directly opposite him, and her comments and remarks were enough to drive him mad. She had something to say on everything, and the constant needling and attention she required was staggering. He had tried at first to warm to her and give her the attention that she wished but it was exhausting, and he had soon given up. Yes, he had tried to be polite and charming, but she was still, an Elliot and after learning a little about her he was not inclined to waste much more time on her. Her being here, with the Musgrove’s, did put a little doubt in his mind, for as much he liked Charles Musgrove, he wondered had he any sense at all - if he had married her. 

It was not merely her personality that had begun to agitate him so. No, for even as much as he tried to ignore her, he could not keep himself from glancing across at her every couple of seconds or so, checking her features and inadvertently comparing her. He sometimes thought he would catch in an expression a look that reminded him, or the candlelight would catch her face in such a way that brought back other memories, but it was so fleeting, he began to think himself imagining things. They were not alike at all he finally decided, apart from the dark hair and dark eyes there was no similarity, and besides eight years was a long time - he didn’t know what time would have done to her - so why did his traitorous eyes keep drifting across. It was exceedingly frustrating. 

She had not come to dinner; that he had noted as soon as he entered the room. His pulse had been heightened, and he had had to work hard to level out his breathing. He did not want to see her, but the decision having been made for him made him angry. There had been something with one of the young Musgrove’s, an accident or something and she had remained at home to care for him. That was typical Anne, was his first thought, and that had made him angrier still. He did not know typical Anne, her staying to nurse her nephew was in line with what she had once been like, but he did not know her now. 

Perhaps, another voice had whispered, she was avoiding you. Well let her. He had no wish to see her and if she wanted to hide from him so be it. He would not waste another second thinking about her. He was here to enjoy himself and to see his sister. Anne Elliot had taken up enough of his time throughout the years; he would not allow her to spoil this evening as well. Therefore, resolute, he had taken a deep breath and taken his seat at the table, however, no matter how strong his resolve had been he still found his eyes wandering back to Mary more than they should have been.

 

Chapter 4: 4

Anne knew that she would not be able to avoid him forever. Last night had been anything but fortuitous, in terms of little Charles, but it had meant that she had escaped seeing him. At least for now, she thought. The price she paid for it today, however, was pure exhaustion. Her whole body ached, and she felt the tiredness twist tightly in her eyebrows, at any moment ready to begin a headache. If this were not enough, she was pale and sickly looking from lack of sleep, and dark smudges circled under her eyes.

If her appearance was noticed by Mary, nonetheless it was not commented on. Instead, she was full of praise for the two captains, and breakfast consisted of much more enthusiasm and excitement than Anne was used to from her sister. Reciting every conversation and commenting how attentive they had seemed to her.

‘The other captain, Richard Hill, was not as charming as Wentworth — he was pleasant, attentive, and quite attractive, Anne, and though he tried not to, I often caught him staring at me! Evidently, he is not used to dining in such company.’

Anne resisted the urge to roll her eyes at this and wondered what that could mean. It meant nothing she reminded herself, why would it? He probably looked at her while she was speaking, and Mary was prone to exaggerating, which meant nothing out of the ordinary. At least she hadn’t had to bear witness to it.

As Mary continued in her praise, it was nearly as if she summoned him, for Charles soon appeared at the window with a sharp knock and warning them of their imminent arrival. Anne had no time to think before they were being introduced, the door opening and his tall frame appearing, stopping and standing not two meters from her. She felt everything then, crash upon her like a wave nearly taking her off her feet. The blood drained from her face and a heat spread through her as if she was being thrown into a fire. Unsteady, she rose to her feet and gripped the chair beside her tightly for balance.

‘We have met once.’

In a second their eyes met and were gone.

‘Oh, but Anne you have not met, Captain Hill and his sister.’

Anne tore her eyes away from him and turned to see who Mary had just gestured to. The face she was met with from Captain Hill was one of stone as he gave her a brief nod and didn’t say anything.

He knew.

She didn’t know how she could tell, but she knew he knew. Anne felt as if she could burst into tears. The sharpness of seeing him again was deepened as she felt the hostility come from the man beside him. He had returned and he hated her, but not only that, he had an ally — someone who knew his past and sided with him. She had no one. She had never had anyone. The burden of her regret had been told to no one, instead festering in her chest like a stone, sinking heavier and heavier with each year. He had shared his pain and now he had someone who shared his hatred. She was alone.

Richard stared at her coldly, looking her up and down. This is who Frederick had pined for, for all these years, this small pale creature. He shook his head. Surely not. She was no great beauty, but was rather plain; her hair was flat and limp, her cheeks sallow. He saw no emotion on her face as she took them in and he would have sworn that she remained unaffected apart from the fact that he had observed her hand tightly grip her chair, her knuckles turning white. What Frederick saw in her he didn’t know.

‘...and we have intruded on your breakfast. Forgive us. Good day.’

Frederick made to move to the door, a dark shadow passing his face as he turned away. Richard followed.

‘Shall we walk with them?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘And so shall I. Miss Hill I am sure Anne will take care of you.’

Mary called out as she made her way out the door, following the rest as they made a quick exit. She would not have been able to follow and to move her feet even if she had wanted to and stood lamely behind the table not knowing what to do.

When the door banged shut after Mary, she snapped to attention and brought her eyes to the remainder of the party.

‘I – I am so sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’

She brought her hand to her brow quickly, before plastering a small smile on her face as she looked up at the girl.

‘Ah I am Miss Hill, well Catherine — and you must call me Catherine, I can’t stand for these formalities, and you are Miss Elliot, correct?’

Anne let out a small shaky laugh.

‘Yes, but if you feel that way you too must call me Anne. Please also do sit, I will ring for tea! Apologies, I am a bit out of sorts this morning.’

Catherine sat down gratefully, untying her bonnet and taking off her coat as Anne rang for tea. She draped it behind her and wouldn’t hear of Anne taking it from her.

‘Please, if you take it, I will forget to bring it home with me and then that will be something else that I will have to remember and that will be another trouble to me. Please do sit.’

Anne did as she was told. This girl was a force of nature; she couldn’t be much older than her early twenties but already she possessed such a strong confidence and self-assurance Anne felt that she could do nothing else than as she was bid.

‘Miss Hill,’ Anne started, but a look made her begin again. ‘Catherine, were you not inclined to join the others on their walk?’

Anne wondered why she had stayed. She was more of the age of Louisa or maybe Henrietta, and it didn’t make any sense to her why she was here with her instead. She did not know her, and truth be told Anne would have preferred a few minutes to compose herself and some quiet to try and work through her emotions.

‘Well, I wanted to meet you of course.’

‘Me?’ Anne echoed.

She felt the blood drain from her face again and stood up as if to check whether the tea was near or not, as a servant came through the door and provided a little distraction. Did she know of me as well? Surely not. Frederick would not have told her; it wouldn’t have been like him. Although again, she didn’t know what was like him, and if Richard’s look was anything to go by, there was every possibility that Catherine knew too. But why would she have stayed then if she too despised her?

‘Yes, you were not at dinner last night, and Sophie, or Mrs Croft had already told me about you so I was therefore frustrated not to make your acquaintance last night.’

Anne started. Surely, she couldn’t know.

‘Oh, Mrs Croft is too kind, I’m sure I don’t deserve half of what she said. I hope you are not too disappointed in finding her opinion quite the opposite of the truth.’

Catherine waved her hand as if batting away what she said.

‘Nonsense, nonsense. I trust her opinion highly. She is almost what I would think having a sister must be like — someone who you can share your deepest secrets with, without fear of judgment from them — well that is what I imagine a sister must be like, I really have no experience of it, I only have Richard, and he is no bosom friend. He is just a brother.’

Anne laughed.

‘If you want you can have one of my sisters — for I have two — but I should not vouch for their ability to keep a secret.’

‘So Mary is your sister, and then you have another?’

‘Yes, she is in Bath now, with my father.’

‘Oh yes of course, forgive me, I have been told this already, and you did not go with them?’

‘No, I shall join them in due course; but Mary required my presence here, and naturally I wished to be of use with the little ones. Besides, I do not particularly care for Bath.’

‘I see, I see.’

Catherine looked around then, and, spotting Charles lying at the window seat, got up and moved in his direction.

‘This is the little boy who fell from the tree?’

Anne followed.

‘Yes. He had a fortunate escape—did you not, Charles?’

The child nodded, eyeing Catherine suspiciously.

‘And you stayed alone last night to nurse him?’

‘Yes. I did not mind — he needed me.’

‘Hmm.’ Was all the reply from Catherine that she received, before she moved back to the dining room and gathered up her coat.

‘I think I shall go and see if I can meet the rest of the party. You are to dine at Uppercross again tonight as well I understand.’

Anne had not heard of this yet.

‘Perhaps. I was not aware of such a plan yet.’

Catherine, having put her coat on, stopped moving and stared at her hard for a second before softening.

‘I hope to see you, I feel the group who benefit from your presence.’

And without waiting for a response, she turned and moved out of the door.

 

Frederick was silently reeling from the encounter at the cottage. He missed every shot that he had attempted and was growing more and more frustrated by the second.

‘Did you find Miss Elliot much changed from when you first met her, Captain Wentworth?’

Frederick aimed again, trying to ignore the sensations of hearing her name being spoken aloud, and missed again.

‘She is so altered that I would not have known her.’

He heard the gasps of the ladies and some giggles. He sat his gun down, pretending to adjust it and trying to ignore their whispers. He half turned and shot a glance at Richard, who stared right back at him. He knew that that comment had been unkind, and in hearing Mary’s voice he began to regret saying it for he knew that she would repeat it, and his words would find their way back to her.

However, as much as he regretted his lack of gallantry, he could not say that it wasn’t true. He didn’t recognise her. That woman, the small, thin, pale thing he had just seen was not the Anne Elliot that he had known. The years had not been kind to her, and she appeared faded and worn, nothing like the youthful and vibrant girl he had once known.
When he had first met her, he had been drawn to her light and joyful manner, her bright and shining eyes that were quick to laugh and full of expression. Now for the few seconds that he had looked into them, all he had seen was darkness, there was no spark anymore, instead they seemed sad and sunken. She was a pale shadow of herself, a ghost of someone he had once known.

He began to wish that he had not seen her again. For although this is what he had thought he had wanted, for her to rue the day that she had turned him down and for him to rejoice in her regret. Seeing her in person was a different story. It had made him pity her, and pity was not conducive to anger, no, instead he felt almost sad. To see her now, all alone, unmarried and with such a family. He could not be so cruel as to celebrate that. Whatever joy he had thought he would feel from casting bitter thoughts at her, it was not as gratifying as he would have liked.

Chapter 5

Summary:

Sorry! This will be sporadically updated - and July was a super busy fun month so I did not get to do much! This scene is kind of one that I loveeeeeee sm in the 1995 version to the point I am loath to change anything so I have kept most of the dialogue the same but adding some more sides! Hope it's ok!

‘Do you suppose we live on board without anything to eat, nor any cooks, any servants, nor any knife and fork to use. We ain't savages!’

The table laughed. There was a warm familiar feeling around it as the last of the spoons scraped at the bottom of the dessert bowls. From an outside perspective it would appear that this was a group of old friends rather than relatively new-formed relationships; however Captain Wentworth knew better. He felt the strangeness of sharing a table with Anne Elliot keenly, the pretence that it was somehow normal, that it could ever be normal. As if she was a passing acquaintance instead of the woman, he thought he would share his life with. No, the short distance that now lay between them was hard to take considering the vast emotional distance he now felt from her.

As the evening progressed, he had cast quick glances at her whenever he had been sure she was not looking – a situation which happened a great deal as she appeared to be in her own world far from the table, getting lost in thought and staring down at her plate, or off in the distance, only replying quietly when Catherine or the Admiral who were beside her had engaged her in conversation. For most of the meal however, she had spent it with her head bowed low, the candlelight shining brightly on her dark hair.

He began to become frustrated. How could she just sit there! Silence was too easy a punishment for her, he wanted something, any sort of reaction from her, and rallying against her lack of engagement he began to overcompensate, bringing up topics that he knew she would be unable to ignore. He didn’t understand how she could sit there so passively and not feel the history of this place on her, the weight of it felt heavy on him, the feelings from 1806 pressing heavy on his mind – he wanted her to suffer too, to feel something, show any sort of sign that she suffered as much as he did.

The only problem with his plan was Catherine. Catherine seemed determined to engage him in a war of wits. While Wentworth, being a youngest child himself, couldn’t say for certain, he felt that she was the closest he would ever come to having a younger sibling—and she was excessively infuriating to him this evening. She was taking great pleasure in undermining him at every poetic turn he took in his stories of heroism, calling him out on his dramatization and hyperbole.

Trying again he began with a story that he knew Anne would be unable to ignore.

‘Let me tell you about the Asp, my first command. We sailed away in the Asp in the year 1806.’

This caught her attention.

‘We have a navy list.’ Louisa jumped up to retrieve it.

‘We shall look her up!’

‘Well, you won't find it in the new list I’m afraid - she's been broken up for scrap. For, I was the last man to command her, eight years ago, and she was hardly fit for service then. Nearly sank on several occasions, the Asp. Then I should only have been a gallant Captain Wentworth in a small newspaper paragraph, and you'd have not heard of me.’

Anne let out a small shudder, nearly indecipherable, and yet he began to feel some sort of victory in it. However, this was short-lived.

‘Pooh pooh’ Catherine cried.

‘That is unfair! I am sure you would probably have noticed his disappearance after a few years Sophie would you have not?’

He heard Richard beside him let out a small laugh, despite covering it with his hand, pretending to drink.

‘I am sure I would have Catherine. I think I would have spared a few tears for him - my gallant brother!’

Frederick glared at her, wishing they could be quiet.

‘He was a lucky fellow to get her! A lucky fellow to get anything so soon!’ The Admiral cut across.

Frederick, feeling his grasp on the conversation begin to slip, replied, saying.

‘I felt my luck, I assure you. For I was well satisfied with the position. I was extremely keen at the time, the year six, to be at sea.’

He felt Anne’s eyes shift to him again and knew that he held her attention.

‘Most extremely keen. Badly wanted to be doing something.’

She looked off again, before the Admiral spoke.

‘Well naturally, you did. What should a young fellow like you do ashore for half a year together?’

He turned then to Anne, almost as if conspiring with her.

‘When a man has no wife, he wants to be afloat again.’

He felt his anger bubble up, and deciding to twist the knife, met her eyes fully for the first time during the meal and replied:

‘Yes, well, I had no wife in the year six.’

He stared at her for what felt like a long time, though it could not have been more than a few seconds. Not daring to break first until she had the decency to look away, this victory was not as sweet as he thought.

Catherine who was beside Anne, had caught this exchange, watching it with interest, and feeling the intensity of the stare that Frederick had bestowed on Anne as she had shrunk under his gaze. He was behaving quite oddly tonight she thought. This peacocking and parading his achievements were quite out of character for him, for usually he preferred to diminish his accomplishments, bestowing instead credit on his crew. Tonight however, he seemed to want to prove himself, to whom she did not know. It was excessively boorish on his account she thought and had no scruples in calling him out on it.

There was a coldness in his stare towards Anne which surprised her. Why would he bestow such cool looks on someone he knows so little? Specifically, Anne. Anne who Catherine saw as the most sensible and kind of the ladies that she had met, surely did not deserve this hostility. What was going on? She looked at Frederick again, closely, eyebrows furrowing and happened to see her brother who was beside him shoot her a sharp quick look of warning before turning to Louisa Musgrove.

‘And then, Captain Wentworth, what came next?’

‘The Laconia. Those where great days were they not Richard, on the Laconia.’

Richard nodded in agreement.

‘A friend of ours and us cruised off the West Indies taking enough privateers to make it very entertaining, and, er...make us quite rich.’

‘It was a bittersweet voyage however,’ – Richard broke in.

‘For it was our last journey that we completed together as Commander’s before having to separate. Have you had any contact with Captain Harville since Frederick?’

Admiral Croft interrupted.

‘I think I remember you saying, Frederick, that you brought Mrs Harville and her children round from Portsmouth to Plymouth last spring to Harville did you not?’

‘Yes, I saw him last spring but not since, why?’

‘Ah!’ The Admiral exclaimed his eyes sparkling, and Frederick unknowingly taking the bait stated:

‘I'd bring anything of Harville's from the world's end if he asked me to!’

Croft laughed.

‘And this from the man famous for declaring he will never have a woman on his ship!’

The statement had the desired effect, and the table broke into gasps of astonishment and confusion.

‘What, never?’ Mrs Musgrove exclaimed.

‘Except for a ball, of course.’ Catherine added rolling her eyes.

Frederick coloured under the scrutiny scrambling for something to say.

‘It's from no lack of gallantry towards women, Mrs Musgrove. Rather the reverse. You see it’s impossible to make the accommodation onboard ships suitable for a party of ladies.’

‘Why, Frederick, I have lived on five!’ Sophie cried.

‘But, Sophie, you were living with your husband, and you were the only woman on board.’

‘That is not to the purpose, I hate to hear you talking about all women as though they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. We none of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.’

‘You agree, Richard, do you not?’ cried Catherine.

‘You do not think women ought not to be on ships?’

Richard cleared his throat, as all eyes turned to him.

‘I would have to disagree with Frederick on this. I can think of many advantages to having women on board – despite the old myth that they bring bad luck.’

Frederick cast a bitter look at him. Only Richard knew the real reason why he couldn’t bare to have women on board – there were too many memories that came with them, too many distractions and jealousy.

‘There Frederick’ Catherine sat back triumphantly.

‘You are outnumbered.’

The ladies laughed and Frederick looked as if he were to say something again when the Admiral cut in.

‘When he has a wife, Miss Hill, he will sing a different tune. That is, if we have the luck to live to another war, we shall see him grateful to anybody who brings him his wife.’

Catherine and Sophie nodded in agreement, as Frederick felt the stares of the Musgrove’s turn expectantly on him. Feeling a sudden suffocation of the place, he rose to quit the room. Adjusting his face from any trace of anger as he stood and placing his serviette on the table, he responded.

‘Oh, no, no. I have done. When once married people attack me with "you shall think differently when you are married." I shall say, "No, I shan't." And they'll say again, "Oh, yes, you shall, and there's an end of it."

He gave a curt nod to Mrs Musgrove; a smile plastered on his face as Richard followed him out to the remnants of laughter echoing in the room.

Chapter 6

Summary:

i think my longest chapter!

Anne sat at the piano, glad to have a moment to collect herself, and wiped quickly at her cheeks lest any tears that had been threatening her since dinner had begun to fall. She took a deep breath, running her hands over the keys, their coolness a comforting feeling. This evening had been torture, hearing his laughter and seeing him play up the stories, trying to impress the ladies beside him, and shooting her sharp poignant looks whenever he could, reminding her that he had not forgotten and that he would never forgive. It had to be one of the worse evenings of her life. She had thought that time had dulled the pain she felt in her heart, leaving it bruised but beating, yet nearly every time he had spoken, she had felt small pricks stabbing at her and opening the wound anew.

Her only resolve was that nothing from this point on could be as bad. She only had a few more hours to go and then it would be over, she would be able to go and lie down and try and forget it and face the day again, and soon she would be gone. She had once thought of Bath as the worst place in the world and had longed to be home, yet now her home had become the worst place, and she longed to be anywhere but here.

She had finished the previous song a couple of minutes ago when she was startled suddenly by a body slouching down beside her dramatically leaning on her for a second before turning to face her. Catherine smiled at her with an air of mischief, and if she noticed anything wrong with Anne, she was kind enough not to mention it.

‘Anne, do you always do everything that everyone asks?’

Anne looked at her in surprise.

‘I’m sorry?’

Catherine waved her hand.

‘Oh, it is no fault, certainly not. You are so good and obliging, much more so than I am, for if Mary had expected me to play all evening without previously asking me, she would have been sorely disappointed.’

Anne blushed a small smile appearing on her lips.

 ‘I hope you would not consider me someone who always defers to others, but it does seem in some situations that I have fallen into that role.’

‘And how do you find the part?’

‘She is a character that I was taught to play so she is familiar.’ Her face clouded momentarily. ‘Whether or not she is happy about it is another argument.’

She shook her head as if removing the thought.

‘However, that is neither here nor there. I try to do what is right.’

‘There it is! Some strength of spirit – I knew there was a reason I had chosen to like you.’

Anne laughed fully at this.

‘You make liking me sound like a deliberate decision.’

‘Of course it is! I am always deliberate in my friendships – I do not wish to waste time on people who do not deserve it.’

‘Well, I hope that I can deserve it.’

Catherine looked around then at the group laughing and setting up for the next dance, Mary was beginning to tire and was complaining about how warm the room was. Henrietta had lined up opposite Frederick and was shouting something at Louisa, while Louisa looked rather impatient, staring over and willing Anne to begin to play again. Her partner opposite her, Richard, followed her gaze and moving his eyes between Anne and Catherine caught Catherine’s fixed stare and looked away.

‘I feel Anne that you already do.’

***

It felt good to have his heart beating with exertion and movement, rather than fear or adrenaline. He had missed it, the feeling of freedom that came with dancing and movement. The music was good though he was loath to acknowledge it. He had danced every set, for no matter who he danced with there always seemed to be someone fresh to take their place when a song had finished. Anne had not danced yet he noted, indeed apart from Catherine no one had even approached her or offered to play themselves.

‘No never, she has quite given up dancing.’

He had not realised that he had vocalised his thoughts until Henrietta’s answer had rung through the air and then he coloured at himself asking the question, and then for fear that she might have been overheard.

Given up dancing? What a strange thing for her to do, and most unlike the previous Anne Elliot he had known. She had loved to dance and there was one point that if they had both been in a room together that it had been hard for them to stand up with anyone but each other, so fond of dancing she had been. Another example of how much she had changed. He could not help but feel perhaps some dancing would benefit her, bring some colour to her pale and drawn cheeks and liven up her stiff and proper posture.

***

‘Do you not take pleasure in dancing Catherine? Not that you have not been an attentive page turner.’

‘I like to dance. However, I do not derive much pleasure in dancing with my brother, and Frederick has been excessively irritating tonight so I think I would decline him even if he asked.’

‘You are all quite close I notice.’

‘Yes, he is like another brother to me, and you know how fond I am of Sophie. Admiral Croft I might oblige with a dance, if he had not trod all over Sophie’s feet when they were just up there.’

‘She does not seem to appear to mind in the least which is rather endearing; however, it would seem that he is better suited to the deck than to dance.’

Catherine laughed.

***

Frederick gratefully accepted the tea that had been laid out on the side table, drinking it quickly and returning at once for a second cup. Before he could taste it, however, Sophie appeared at his side.

‘Will you not ask Catherine or Miss Elliot to dance, Frederick?’

He glanced toward the piano, where the two ladies sat smiling and conversing quietly.

‘They do not appear inclined to welcome an interruption.’

‘It may seem so, but I should be glad to see them asked all the same.’

Frederick gave a weary sigh and rolled his eyes. He had no wish to cross the room—least of all to extend an invitation to Anne. That privilege had long since been revoked.

Yet he knew his sister. For all Sophie’s newfound confidence and lightness in a ballroom, there had been a time when she lingered at the edges, feeling acutely the sting of being passed over. She had never quite forgotten it and now bore an instinctive protectiveness for any young woman who stood apart, regardless of whether they felt the slight themselves.

‘I shall see if Catherine will oblige me,’ he said at last, ‘but I shall not be asking Miss Elliot.’

Sophie’s gaze narrowed slightly.

‘That is a rather curious resolution, Frederick. Why would you go so far as to slight her?’

‘Miss Elliot and I are not on such terms as would make a dance agreeable.’

‘That is interesting, I have found that I wish to know a great deal more of Miss Elliot. Catherine has taken a fondness for her also.’

Frederick did not reply to this.

‘I will ask Catherine but that is the extent of it.’

***

She saw him begin to move towards them as Catherine was speaking. He had not once escaped her notice throughout the evening, yet she had been glad to keep him at the edge of her vision — far enough that she might pretend not to see him at all. Her body, however, was less obliging: her breath came shallow, and a warm rush of blood pounded in her ears, drowning out whatever Catherine was saying beside her.

She forced her eyes back to the pages before her, but it was useless. His shadow had fallen across them — and with it, all hope of indifference. She looked up.

‘I am under orders from my sister to discharge one of you from your musical duties.’

He did not look at Anne as he spoke.

‘Well, Anne,’ said Catherine easily, ‘Sophie must mean you, for I have no desire to dance tonight.’

Frederick’s face changed. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He had not intended to dance with her she felt sure of that, yet he had not imagined Catherine would refuse him. He looked as if he were going to say something, and Anne not wishing to hear how he would not dance with her decided to pre-empt him.

‘We will not hold you to your duties, I also am not inclined to dance.’

She meant to save him from having the displeasure of standing up with her, but her answer seemed only to bring him more offence.

‘As a Captain, Miss Elliot I live by the practice that if one promises to do something they have said they will do, they do it.’

Anne’s eyes widened in realisation at the implication, and she glanced down hurt.

‘I did not mean –

‘You are quite severe on Anne, Frederick, she naturally did not mean to insult you.’

‘I think Miss Elliot is capable of speaking for herself, Catherine’ he replied, his voice sharp.

Catherine tilted her head and regarded him coolly.

‘Hmm.’ She glanced between them.

‘Perhaps I had better not interfere. Anne, I shall play if you would like to dance, but do not feel you are bound by any sort of moral or societal obligation. It is just a dance.’

‘Yes, Miss Elliot.’ Frederick added, his eyes finally meeting hers. ‘It is just a dance.’

He held out his hand in front of her, he wore no gloves, and his hand was tan and calloused, aged from years of work from the last time she had held it. She was conflicted, to refuse him was to hammer the final nail in her coffin; yet to stand with him, this cold, aloof version of the man she had once known would surely tarnish every cherished memory she still held of dancing with him, which, in truth, were all she had left.

***

His hand hung awkwardly between them. He could not decide if he would prefer for her to take it or to continue to refuse. To refuse may be easier for him for then he could continue to despise her. However, for her to take it would be a test for him. He hoped he would feel nothing.

He cursed Catherine under his breath for her refusal. She was a poor piano player at that which meant this refusal had been an obvious sign of her displeasure at his behaviour this evening, he had no remorse for it, but he was paying for it now.

She took his hand. If he had not been focused on it, he may not have felt it for she placed no weight in it, seeming only to hold it in sight but with an inner restraint that prevented her from giving it fully to him. She rose and he had to remind himself to move his legs towards the floor, as Catherine ran her hands up and down the keys a few times in preparation.

They did not speak but before they broke to stand opposite one another he found himself inadvertently giving her hand a gentle squeeze, almost like a reflex as if his body wanted to check that she was there. He held it then for a second too long before they lined up as the opening notes began to play.

He watched her. That figure, slight and familiar, had not truly altered in his memory, and still it struck him now as it had all those years ago. How had he come back to this? He could not say. It occurred to him, maddeningly, that whatever path he took in life seemed, without fail, to return him to her. But he attempted to silence this thought, to dismiss it with reason. The comfort her presence brought him, however unwillingly admitted, settled like a balm upon his tight and breathless chest.

As he settled into the clunky music and prepared himself to step forward and to feel her hand again however, the drawing room door banged open and a gentleman whom he had not seen before stood before them, a hat in his hand and looking more than pleased at the sight before him.

‘Henry!’

 

 

Chapter 7: 7

Summary:

Fiona Shaw is my Sophie Croft. I love love love her, and I thought it was so funny when she got to say 'and different places around home, Cork' etc because CorcaighAbú lol. But that wee scene where she's like 'I was only afraid when I was left alone with my thoughts' is so relatable but also SOOOO cute, the way Admiral Croft is like softly smiling to himself (this is 1995 btw) - I was sad I couldn't keep him in the scene but I needed a girls day!

While the hours of the cottage were always later than those of the surrounding estates, Anne could not seem to grasp the schedule. Instead, she awoke early and took tea in the parlour, delighting in a few solitary hours in which she could read or be alone with her thoughts. This morning her book lay on the table untouched and her tea grew cold as she started out the window. She could not decide how she felt about last night. On one hand she was glad that their dance had been interrupted, it was surely some sign of divine providence for the interruption to happen when it did. However, there was also a small part of her that had hoped dancing would have brought them some sort of consolation or that she would have seen something of her old Frederick again, even just for a second.

She sighed. No it was better that it did not happen at all.

She began to hear movement outside the door, and Charles walked in tying his cravat loosely around his neck, a slice of toast hanging from his mouth.

‘Good morning, Charles.’

‘Morning, Anne. I hope I am not disturbing you.’ 

‘Of course not, you are up early this morning.’

Charles sat down opposite her, pulling one leg across the other to tie his shoe, before repeating it on the other side. 

‘Frederick, Richard and I have decided to make the most of the last few dry weeks of summer and to go shooting. Capital fellows the pair of them, they will be along soon I should think.’ 

Anne looked at him trying to hide her alarm. It was only natural she thought to herself that Charles and Frederick would make fast friends. How quickly the world seemed to find more ways to make her life a misery. 

Voices were heard quietly then in the hall, as a servant opened the living room door and Anne and Charles rose to greet their guests. Captain Wentworth strode in first and eyed quickly and suspiciously nearly the scene of domesticity that greeted him. 

‘Good morning, Charles, Miss Elliot.’ 

The party made their salutations. 

‘Perfect timing gentlemen, we shall have some fine sport today I daresay. I will need to call for the dogs and then we can be off.’ 

Charles was almost like a dog himself, bounding around excitedly picking things up and stuffing them in his pockets, fleeting between tasks before seeming to come pack to one and finish it. It was only when he made to move towards the door that he seemed to recognise that there was another in the party, and that Catherine had accompanied them to the cottage. On his recognition, she began to speak. 

‘I hope you do not mind Mr Musgrove, but I have come to steal Miss Elliot away from you. I have been exploring the rooms at Kellynch and feel that my questions would be best answered by someone who knew the property intimately. I understand your wife has not been living there for the past number of years.’

Charles nodded.
‘Of course, of course, Anne is the most proper of people to show you around, if you do not mind Anne?’

He looked at her then, one arm already in his coat. She did not know what to say, the idea of returning to Kellynch despite knowing the Croft’s now, to show them around did not seem appealing, yet the thought of spending another afternoon in the drawing room with Mary did not induce much enthusiasm, and in the end the former won out. Feeling eyes on her, she nodded her acquiescence and moved to gather herself to leave.

‘Capital,’ Catherine said, her voice betraying no excitement but instead held gentle sarcasm, as if amused by Charles’s eagerness. She shot Anne a wide smile which she was grateful for, as it allowed her to focus on only Catherine instead of becoming overwhelmed by the heavier gazes she felt directed at herself. She saw Frederick lean in to whisper something to Richard, Richard slightly shaking his head before they all turned to leave the room.

***

Catherine and Anne found Sophie in the Parlor when they arrived at Kellynch. Anne felt it odd to walk among the familiar halls like a stranger, but the warm reception she felt from the staff as she arrived, softened her discomfort. 

‘Ah Anne!’ Mrs Croft exclaimed as she arrived. 

‘We are so glad to have you here with us today, you will be able to settle many a debate between Catherine and I, for we have grown practically too comfortable with each other and fight almost about everything.’

Anne laughed. 

‘I find that hard to believe Mrs Croft. I find you very alike in temperament and would therefore feel your company would be complimentary to each other.’

‘Alike!’ Scoffed Catherine. 

‘I would disagree Anne, Sophie has a tolerance for people and their nonsense that I have yet to learn, some would call it patience, but I would argue it is plain suffering.’ 

‘You see this Anne, she is offended at being compared to me. I on the other hand take no offence to the comparison, I feel though that with both you and I here we will be able to teach Catherine a little more manners, though I daresay it will be no easy task. How long would you be able to stay?’ 

Catherine in response to this made a most unladylike face at them, which set them all laughing. Anne felt a lightness to her that she had not felt in a long time, this teasing and the obvious sincere affection these two women held for each other was palpable and warm. A chosen family nearly, and one that she could not help but feel a part of very quickly, even if she felt a slight pang at the remembrance that Sophie could have been her real family. Pushing this quickly away she vowed to enjoy the day for what it was.

***

The hours passed swiftly in a flurry of lively conversation and a variety of engaging topics. Anne felt she had not laughed so much in years, and each new detail she learned of her companions seemed only to draw her nearer to them. At first she had endeavoured to confine herself to general subjects, feigning little knowledge of naval life, but she soon grew tired of the pretence; and as Mrs Croft proved a most willing partner, she began to inquire more freely into the particulars of her situation, and the experiences of a sailor’s wife.

‘But did you never suffer any sickness, Sophie?’

Sophie pondered this for a moment, her face which was easy to break into a smile suddenly becoming serious.

‘No.’ She fixed Anne with a stare.

‘The only time that I ever imagined myself unwell, or had any ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed on my own at Deal. When the Admiral, Captain Croft then, was away on the north seas. That, I did not like. But as long as we could be together, nothing ever ailed me. Not a thing.’

Her seriousness soon dissolved into a smile.

‘I am lucky though, I know. Some wives are not so you know, and suffer a great deal while on board. I can only owe that I am one of the fortunate, and this fortune has allowed me to have many years of travel with my husband. Something that I would not trade for anything in the world.’ 

Anne felt herself overcome at this honest and sincere speech. The marriage of the Croft’s was one that was enviable, she thought she was blessed to meet a couple so happy, even her own memories of her parents didn’t seem to hold the feelings that she saw shine from the older woman’s eyes, and feeling a rush of emotion her eyes began to tear, forcing her to blink quickly. 

‘Yes, Sophie,’ she said softly ‘you are very fortunate indeed.’ 

Sophie must have seen something of this emotion, reaching out to gently squeeze one of Anne’s hands.

‘The Admiral would not do half as well without you Sophie.’ Catherine added, standing up to move around the room.

‘There are points I wish that Richard would settle down so that he too could enjoy some companionship while away. I know he is rather solitary, and of course he has his fellow sailors, but I do wish it sometimes all the same. Then also perhaps he would also leave me in peace about getting married.’ 

‘Catherine has no wish to get married.’ Sophie explained to Anne.

‘Richard will find someone in his own time Catherine, as a sister unfortunately you will have very little say in it.’ 

‘You have no wish to be married?’ Anne questioned Catherine.

‘No, it holds very little interest for me. My father when he was alive did not hold much consequence in it for me. For Richard though he did seem keen on it, I think that that is one of Richard’s regrets that he did not marry before he passed away, Richard always followed everything that father wanted of him.’

Anne nodded at this, her heart opening a little towards the two siblings.

‘And what of you Anne, I am sure you have had your fair share of proposals in your time.’

She balked at this, a blush rising up her cheeks.

‘See how she blushes Sophie, I fear Miss Elliot has broken a few hearts.’ 

Sophie laughed, but Anne feeling the truth hit too close to home could not join in.

‘I had a chance at love once, but I was young, and persuaded by those who claimed to know what was best for me. I let him go. It was years ago now, of course, yet I cannot say I do not think of it often, nor regret the mistakes I made. But such is life, we must learn to live with our errors. I believe, however, that that love was the love for me; I cannot imagine another like it. Marriage, therefore, seems no longer within my reach.’

She looked at them, their faces lined with pity.

‘I am not bitter, please do not mistake me, I am not bitter anymore, only resigned to what is, and what can never be.’

She shook herself a little then and held her head up straight looking at Catherine. 

‘Perhaps, Catherine you and I can live our days out together as old spinsters. I feel we would never cease to enjoy ourselves.’

Catherine gave her a small smile, feeling Anne’s attempt to lighten the mood.

‘A most formidable pair we should be,’ she declared. ‘Heaven helps the neighbourhood if we are allowed to grow old together.’

Sophie smiled, though there was still softness in her eyes when she looked at Anne.

‘Do not be so certain of your fate, Anne. Life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it.’

Anne felt the words pierce her heart, but she returned the smile, unwilling to let her spirit’s sink.

Chapter 8: 8

Summary:

some Richard introspection and some sibling dialogue! any thoughts appreciated!

‘Had you good hunting Frederick?’

The two men collapsed into the chairs, one of which Anne had vacated a few hours before. It was beginning to grow dark now, the sky changing a to an inky blue as the colours from the autumn day began to fade. The fire in the drawing room was burning steadily and it cast a warm comforting glow around the room. Had it not been for Sophie’s question Frederick felt that he would be in danger of quickly dosing off so soothing was the atmosphere.

‘Oh yes, the conditions were faultless today, no wind and just the right amount of sunlight to make aiming clear and shooting easy. We filled several bags, and even Richard was able to compete with it despite his reluctance at participating – though we will never catch Charles, he seems to practice every day.’

Richard feeling the weight of a day enjoyably spent, agreed to this.

‘Though I am not an activist for the sport the scenery of the country makes it very easy to wile the hours away enjoyably. You have chosen a lovely county to settle in Sophie.’

‘I can see the tired contentment in both of you! Kellynch is a beautiful estate, and Catherine and I feel now quite the experts on it after today. We spent a most delightful afternoon in the company of Miss Elliot who is a well of knowledge on the place.’

‘Indeed.’  Frederick replied turning his face to the fire.

‘She has spent a vast majority of her life here, so it is to be expected.’

‘She is not uncurious however,’ Catherine added, ‘if you mean anything by that Frederick. No, Anne is very interested in the world and seems to have a quiet wish to see more of it.’

‘I agree, she spent a lot of the afternoon questioning me on the places I have been and the ships I have lived on, a very practical and interesting lady. She would make a good captain’s wife I think if either of you had any sense you would snap her up! Instead of chasing after those other young ladies!’ Sophie laughed, not unkindly.

Richard’s shoulders tensed as he glanced at Frederick seeing how he would react to his sister’s speech, but there was no movement, he continued to stare into the fire, the shadows dancing across his face but showing none of his emotion.

‘You are both rather quiet Richard, but I feel that you would enjoy Anne’s company if you gave her the opportunity.’ Catherine stated her eyes dancing between them.

‘I do not think –

‘Please. I do so wish for you to know her. I think Sophie and I are already madly in love with her, so we want everyone else to feel the same!’

Frederick stood then abruptly, their eyes all turning to him.

‘I think if you don’t mind, I will begin to ready for dinner.’

‘Of course, Frederick, but are you alright? You look rather put out. Has something upset you?’

‘No. Nothing. I will go now.’

He swept out of the room, the door banging behind him. Catherine and Sophie shared a look with each other before their gazes on Richard who could not return them.

‘Richard,’ Catherine began, ‘what is the matter with him?’

‘I wouldn’t pretend to know.’ Still, he could not look, turning to glance again at the fire.

‘But surely you must, or you must find out. That is rather out of character for him is it not?’

He cleared his throat.

‘Not extremely out of character I wouldn’t say… but perhaps he is tired, it was a long day despite its enjoyability.’

‘Hmm.’ Sophie could not agree.

‘Perhaps I should go and check on him.’

‘No Sophie do not. I will go.’

Richard rose then, feeling their eyes on him as he made his way out of the door. Despite his promise he knew that he would not go to Frederick. He felt at this moment his friend would welcome some solidary silence with his thoughts, and he could not bring himself to interrupt it. He could not also face the anger that his friend was bound to display in a fit of annoyance if disturbed. No, he would leave him.

Instead, he made his way slowly to his own room to dress. He felt the awkwardness of his own situation fall on him then as he began to climb. He knew that Catherine liked Anne and would be upset if he did not make an effort to befriend her. He knew also that Frederick would be angry if he did. So where did that leave him? His own thoughts of Anne were borne out of loyalty to his friend and his broken heart, but in seeing Anne and meeting her he found it hard to keep his second-hand hatred alive. It was much easier when she was just a name, it is easy to hate a word, but here she was now, flesh and blood, and it was hard to hate her.

He had thought before meeting her that she must be a fool. To have rejected his friend showed some foolish and inconsiderate qualities, but she was not thoughtless. Indeed, when they were in a room together there seemed to him to be nobody in as deep of thoughts as her. She would sit quietly and take it all in with her sharp brown eyes. She did not always contribute, in fact he couldn’t recall ever having heard her voice her opinion aloud, but that did not mean that she didn’t have one. Certainly, with the company she kept it would be hard to get a chance to, and he could not begrudge her, he who was also quiet, who would rather observe than participate, he felt he could not judge this quality in her without feeling hypocritical.

What could he do? He began to feel that perhaps beginning to know Anne Elliot a little better would make it clearer for him, for right now her rejection of Frederick was a mystery to him. She was still unmarried, so she had not moved on, and from Frederick’s previous descriptions he knows that time has not been kind to her, so she has also suffered. He would try and get to the bottom of it, for there was something that did not make sense in it. Obviously, both were suffering, though in different ways.

He was resolved; he would hear her side of it. But what to do about Catherine? She suspected something he was sure of it and the way she was pushing at Frederick, looking for a reaction from him was not helping matters. Could he tell her? It would mean breaking Frederick’s trust. His head was spinning; there was too much to think about. He ran his hand through his hair as he reached his room, entering and going straight to the wash basin to splash his face, the cold water he hoped would soothe his head and give him some clarity.

If Catherine kept pushing, she would only drive Frederick into more of a temper and that would not help anyone. Catherine also wants him to become friends with Anne, this was difficult too for he could not begin to spend time with her without succumbing to Fredericks jealousy, for he knew that his friend would be jealous despite the great number of years. He would have to get to know her in a more private way, and for that he would need Catherine’s help. Which meant, he grimaced slightly, he would have to tell her.

Catherine made her way down the stairs towards the dining room; she had dressed simply as they had no company and was looking forward to a relaxed meal. She wondered briefly whether Frederick would remain distant as he had been earlier or whether he would be returned to his usual self when suddenly a study door was opened, and she was pulled rather unceremoniously through it to come face to face with her brother.

‘Richard! What are you doing?’

‘Catherine please be quiet!’ He whispered urgently. Before moving around, her to check the hallway and closing the door quietly before leaning against it.

‘I need to speak with you.’

‘Could we not have spoken at dinner like civilised people, rather than summoning me aside like this?’

‘Do not overstate it– it doesn’t matter! I need you to listen to me.’

‘Speak then Richard, why all this secrecy?’

‘You must promise to not disclose anything that I tell you. It is of utmost importance.’

‘Why are you speaking of disclosure, surely there is nothing that warrants this.’

‘Just promise me. You must not tell Sophie, and you must act as if you do not know this information. Promise me.’

‘I promise. Please explain to me what is going on.’

‘It is about Anne Elliot.’

‘Oh,’ she laughed moving further into the room. ‘I am surprised at you brother.’

He gritted his teeth.

‘That is not what I mean. Please if you would just listen and do not speak until I am finished.’

Catherine sat down in a chair, folding her hands on her lap and hiding a smile.

‘As you wish, please proceed, you have my silence.’

He sighed, moving closer to her.

‘Did you happen to wonder at Frederick’s change of moods this past week.’

She nodded.

‘Well, there is an obvious reason for it, though it is perhaps not one that would be easily recognisable.’

‘You are not making sense Richard; you speak of Anne Elliot and then turn to Frederick’s wild moods.’

‘Catherine.’ He said warningly, and she turned silent.

‘Anne Elliot is not as unconnected with our party as you would think, based on the nature of the reacquaintance. Indeed, her and Frederick knew each other several years ago, he visited the country and stayed with Edward – his brother, for a number of months before he came to sea.’

‘If they know each other already why the forced formality?’

‘I believe that the ending of their acquaintance was not the happiest and it seems that Frederick has gone to great lengths to avoid what it once was.’

‘I do not understand.’

‘Please Catherine, I cannot say too much really about the particulars, in fact I am saying already more than I should but the reason that I am telling you this is that you must stop trying to force a friendship between myself and Miss Elliot and especially not between Frederick and Miss Elliot, it cannot be.’

‘Frederick’s wish to avoid friendship does not mean that you also must Richard, you do know that.’

‘I do. Though I will say that it was not necessarily friendship that Frederick now wishes to avoid the remembrance of.’

Catherine’s eyes widened slightly, and Richard quickly continued.

‘Though it is no matter, as Frederick’s friend I cannot do anything that I feel will hurt or anger him, I hope you understand.’

Catherine was silent, for once not being able to think of a reply.

‘Of course, I don’t think that this will have any bearing on your friendship with Miss Elliot, you are naturally free to form relationships with anyone you like, and I hope this has not shadowed your opinion of her.’

‘Of course not! But when was this?’ she asked suddenly moving to stand.

‘I cannot be sure of the details, but it was before we went to sea, a good few years ago now.’

‘And Frederick still talks of it?’

‘Not in so many words, but I believe that being back in her company has raised some memories.’

‘Yes, his moods make sense now, though surely if these feelings were gone, he would hold no animosity against her.’

Richard thought on this for a second.

‘I have noticed a coldness from Frederick to Anne in some interactions which I suppose make sense now, but I can’t reconcile the idea that if he felt nothing, he would act in such a manner. You know him better Richard, surely these black moods are more reflective of something stronger than dislike.’

Richard shook his head.

‘I don’t know.’ He looked at her then, standing resolutely and staring off into the distance her face hard in thought.

‘I know that look. Catherine, I have told you this so that you will allow Frederick some space from your teasing and inquisition – you must.’

She waved her hand dismissively.

‘Oh, I will not bother Frederick with this, I am merely thinking on it. Do not worry yourself so Richard.’

He sighed shakily.

‘I am glad. Now please let us forget about it. We are already I fear late for dinner.’

He opened the door and offered his arm to her as they made their way towards the dining room, both of them deep in thought as to the words of the others. Richard feeling that the direction of the conversation wasn’t exactly how he planned, and Catherine despite his words raking through her brain on what to do in relation to it, for forgetting it was going to be impossible.

Chapter 9

Summary:

I am thinking I will just kind of follow the natural story and see how it goes, I have a sort of idea, but I'm playing fast and loose and seeing where this ends up kind of at the same time as you guys! It is fun to write - I think if you have seen the 1995 one you'll probably see where I have only kind of edited the script so hopefully if you haven't it's not too difficult to follow. In modern works it always seems to be written first person but in earlier style the kind of third person narrative prevails, I prefer it but I am unsure if I am hitting the balance of it - ah sure practice I guess! But please let me know what you think!

Anne had spent the prior evening and current morning trying to placate Mary who had been most unhappy to have been left behind the previous day. Her conversation was sharp and her tone cutting, and Anne felt clearly her punishment for having excluded her from the meeting at Kellynch. She did not mind however, for she would not have changed those precious hours she spent there for anything. It had been one of the most pleasant afternoons she had spent in a long time. It had felt good to have met some new and interesting people who seemed to see her for who she was instead of how useful she could be. Perhaps that is an unfair thought she said to herself, but she couldn’t help but feel that Sophie and Catherine were sort of kindred spirits that she felt lucky to have come into her life. She was already looking forward to seeing them again.

She had not been looking forward to facing Him again though. The torture of being so near to him when she had longed for him for so long, compared to the harsh reality in which he was not hers was too much to bear. She had thought with time and exposure that it would become easier, but if that moment, so nearly a dance, had taught her anything, it was that her heart was at even more liberty of being broken than before. Instead, now the distance between them felt as large as ever before even though she was within a few meters from him and able to stare at the back of his head as he walked through the fields and spoke with those around him, enjoying the impromptu outing.

‘I wonder where the gig will overturn today?’ His voice carried back on the wind to her as she watched him turn to Louisa, the stance cut him a fine figure, with his bright eyes staring up at her and the breeze tossing his dark hair across his forehead, Anne’s heart beat wildly.

‘Do not be cruel!’ She heard Lousia reply, loitering awkwardly at a small distance behind them. She could not go any closer without fear of being seen to be listening so instead half turned her body to look behind her keeping one ear to the wind to catch the rest of the conversation.

‘It always happens. He's a first-rate sailor but on land - fortunately, my sister is as happy to be tossed into the ditch as not.’

‘Well, if I loved a man as she loves the admiral, I'd do just the same. Nothing would ever separate us, and I would rather be overturned by him than driven safely by somebody else.’

Louisa’s declaration had placed a small smile on his face, his lips curling slightly to the side as he took in her meaning.

‘Fine words, Louisa.’ He held out his hand then to help her over the ditch, yet she in her youthful exuberance grabbed it gaily and jumped herself into his arms. Anne watched as they shared a small smile face to face before she pushed herself gently from him to move on. Anne felt then a small bubble of remembrance of herself at that age, had she ever been as light and active as she, the joys of life easy upon her shoulders? No, she couldn’t have been, for she had already had her own tragedy by then, which had made her more aware of the preciousness of life in losing her dear mother. Happiness had been scarce in those following years, only returning for a few short precious weeks in the year six.

She pulled herself over the ditch and looked down to see Richard returning to her and offering to her surprise his hand out to her to help her over. He was too late of course but his attempt to aid her made her express her gratitude and thankfulness. This was a strange development for she was sure he hated her on behalf of his friend, to now suddenly appear willing to assist her made her slightly suspicious. She kept quiet therefore but seeing him offer his arm to support her down the rest of the hill, she accepted this olive branch, and they made their way on following the group and keeping their eyes on the ground so as not to fall. So engaged in this task of avoiding eye contact, they failed to miss the quick looks being shot back at them by someone in front.

Their slower pace meant that by the time they reached the bottom of the hill overlooking Wintrop they seemed to have missed an important development in the group. Charles stood apart from the group as Louisa ran towards Henrietta dragging her towards Charles, despite the protests of Mary. Frederick stood watching the scene with some bewilderment as Anne began to understand the dynamic of the situation, they were going to visit the Hayters and Henrietta was to make things right. Mary sat then resolutely on the stump of a tree as Louisa ran merrily back towards the group her eyes only on one of them as she asked Frederick.

‘Shall we try and glean some nuts from the hedgerow?’

Her motive was clear and Frederick in feeling the special attention almost without consciousness of the action turned to the group searching out Anne Elliot to see what she made of it. However, as if sensing this eye contact Anne turned quickly away in a movement that she wished to convey that she was no obstacle to the activity. How could she be, and as they made their way off she turned back to the makeshift seat and sat down beside Mary, Richard standing slightly behind.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Mary interrupted to say,

‘My seat is damp. I am sure Louisa has found a better.’

Anne sighed heavily.

‘Oh, leave her be, Mary.’

‘No. I will not be damp’ and she moved off to go in search of the party. Richard in watching this moved then suddenly to sit beside Anne. She again did not turn to look at him but felt his presence keenly, her shoulders sinking under the awkwardness as she attempted to find something, or anything to say.

Richard’s thoughts were along the same lines. He had not spoken with her singularly yet and he felt now that his two actions were perhaps making her uncomfortable which was not his desired intention. As he agonised his brain for something to say they began to hear voices from the hedgerow behind them, Frederick and Louisa walking along it, oblivious to their proximity of the original path.

Lousia’s voice the clearer of the two at that moment spoke first.

‘I will not be turned back from a thing I had determined to do by the airs and interference of such a person. I am not so easily persuaded.’

‘Would she have turned back, then, but for you?’

‘I am ashamed to say that she would.’

Richard followed this with confusion at first, not understanding to who they were referring to.

‘Henrietta's very lucky to have you for a sister. Stick always to your purpose, Louisa, be firm, I shall like you the more for it.’

Ah so this venture out had been for the benefit of Henrietta and a reunion with the Hayters. He turned slightly to see how Fredericks words would impact Anne and watched her pale as the hidden implication hit her. Frederick did seem to have a knack for comparing every lady he had met to this young woman, despite his reluctance to admit it or knowledge of her presence in his mind, Richard thought to himself.

Louisa spoke again.

‘Mary has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride. We all wish that Charles had married Anne instead.’

Richard cleared his throat awkwardly feeling the sting this dig towards the Elliot’s family must have made on Anne. What could he say, what could he say? He glanced at her eyes and was surprised to see them looking back at him, a deep sadness in them that killed the words in his mouth.

‘Did Charles want to marry Anne?’ he heard Frederick reply; surprise laced in his tone evident to both of those who sat as statutes on that stump.

‘Did you not know?’

‘You mean she refused him?’

‘Yes.’

‘When was that?’

‘About three years before he married Mary. If only Anne had accepted him. We should have all have liked her a great deal better. My parents think it was Lady Russell's doing. My brother wasn't philosophical enough for her taste. She persuaded Anne to refuse him.’

Their voices began to fade away as the meaning of the conversation sank into Richard’s mind. He had turned away from her, unable to look any more into those eyes. Three years before he married Mary, when was that? It could not have been before she met Frederick, no, the timings do not work for that, it had to be after. Why would she have refused another offer? She would have been older then and of marriageable age, it didn’t make sense to refuse for any other reason than she did not love him. Her family had obviously approved enough of the Musgrove’s to allow the younger sister to marry into the family, despite Louisa’s conspiracy that this Lady Russell had prevented it. Richard racked his brain trying to remember if he had heard of this Lady Russell before, but he couldn’t seem to recall the finer details of Frederick’s story, having only heard it once in its fullness, eight years ago. He shook himself; this is what one gets for eavesdropping I suppose he thought to himself, you are left with more questions than answers and you do not have the right to ask what one longs to know.

They were soon joined by Mary who was quickly followed by the rest of the party along with a fine young gentleman who struck his hand out in a friendly matter in total contrast to the previous meeting with him.

‘Captain Wentworth, Captain Hill, I don't believe you know Mr Hayter.’

They shook hands cordially, and Richard watched as their new acquaintance shared knowing looks with Henrietta who seemed very happy with the result of this escapade. They will no longer be competing for Fredericks attention now he thought to himself grimly, it seems that the stage has opened for Lousia to become the one in the spotlight.  

****

As the party made their way back through the meandering paths and wide-open fields of the English countryside Frederick was struck by the beauty of the scenery around him. It had been a beautiful crisp autumn day and with the sun now beginning to set the colours of the trees around him were beginning to bask red and orange in the golden glow. He breathed deeply taking it in, it was no sea air which held fresh and salty but was instead softer and sweeter a comforting smell. He had enjoyed his day, the rigorous exercise feeling good for his muscles that had been too long idle. The company had also been good, Lousia filling the silence or Charles commenting on things as the passed by. Now they walked ahead of them, Henrietta and Louisa talking quietly and Mary leaning heavily on Charles arm as he moved from side to side of the path following any movement that caught his eye.

He looked now at Charles with keener eyes, seizing him up. This man who wanted to marry Anne, his fist curled slightly at this unconsciously, and he had to remind himself that she had refused him and he was not her husband. Instead, he had married the far inferior sister, who was complaining over the weaving way in which her husband walked. His blood began to boil as he thought over what Louisa said about Lady Russell and her persuasion, he of all people knew the power in which she held over Anne and his resentment had not dimmed over the years. The one thing that was puzzling him was, if what Louisa had said was true, was to why Lady Russell had persuaded her against Charles but allowed Mary to marry him. Surely her family had agreed to it, Charles was not some ‘penniless sailor’ who had wished to drag Anne down into a life of ruin. He breathed heavily, no that confused him. A small hopeful voice whispered quietly that she had done it for him, had refused Charles as she could not have married anyone but him, but he again tried to silence this. She would not have gone against her family; she was too obedient for that. Why then?

His head beginning to spin he turned to look further back at the remaining pair who were behind them and he watched as Anne and Richard walked together, her leaning gently on his arm and speaking only slightly. She was tired he thought to himself, surprised at the suddenness and confidence in which he could read her movements. Richard was kind to offer her his arm. He was always gentlemanly no matter the situation, a trait that he wished he could embolden in himself, but he also resented him for offering it. He would rather she had just walked by herself, for even Charles offering her his arm would have caused him some annoyance.

However, in his deep appraisal he did notice that she would not let Richard take any of her weight or let herself lean into him. Perhaps she did not want to show the true extent of her fatigue, or perhaps she was not comfortable with him. The thought gave him a little solace but then he reprimanded himself for such a selfish thought, it was obvious that she was tired, he should be grateful for any support given to her even if he was reluctant to be the explicit person to give it.

He was brought back to the path in front of him by the sound of a gig and voices calling out to it as he recognised his sister and the Admiral slow down to greet them. He heard someone explain to them that they had been to Wintrop and back when an idea crossed his mind and he hurried quickly over to his sister pulling her down to whisper into her ear.

‘Take Anne, she's very tired.’

Sophie looked at him in surprise her eyes rising to see the pair that lagged come into view.

‘Are you sure Frederick? She looks to be well looked after by Richard – don’t they make a rather fine pair together.’

He looked at her in disdain, refusing to look around him.

‘Please Sophie, I entreat you.’

‘As you wish Frederick.’ Her sharp eyes narrowing slightly at him, before calling out.

‘Anne, you must be tired. Do give us the pleasure of taking you home.’

Richard had watched this scene with some interest as he felt Anne’s hand drop from his arm. As they had walked together, he had attempted to engage her into conversation, and she had replied quietly and gently to him, answering only exactly what he had asked and never staying too far from the exact answer. He heard her now reply.

‘B-but there is not room, Mrs Croft.’

‘Nonsense! Sophie and I will squash up. Were we all as slim as you, there'd be room for four!’ The Admiral insisted.

‘But I...’

He felt Frederick by their side at the next moment his face open and tender as it moved closer to hers whispering a gentle ‘please’ before placing his hand softly on her back and moving her away from him and towards the gig. Richard felt as if he was intruding having seen his friend look almost lovingly at the young woman and looked away as he helped her into the gig. Perhaps, he thought to himself there is more future to these two than just a lovesick story that was once in the past.