Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (22 page)

They had nearly finished breakfast when the sound of a carriage, almost the first they had heard since entering Lyme drew half the party to the window. Henrietta noted, “It is a gentleman’s carriage—a curricle—but it is only coming round from the stable yard to the front. Somebody must be going away.—Look, it is driven by a servant in mourning.”

“A curricle, you say?” Charles Musgrove jumped up, hoping to compare the one outside to his own.

By now, they all stared out the window at the carriage. Frederick had no intention of spying, but when Anne moved to the window, he moved, too. He thought the curricle must belong to the stranger. He reasoned there would not be two gentlemen in mourning staying at the same inn. By the time the owner of the curricle issued forth from the door admidst the bows and civilities of the household and took his seat to drive off, the six of them collectively stared out the window.

Wentworth half glanced at Anne. “Ah, it is the very man we passed.” He waited to see Anne’s reaction, but she turned away to the sidebar once more before he could ascertain her feelings.

“I believe you are right, Captain,” Henrietta confirmed and then kindly watched the man as far up the hill as she could.

“I wonder who he is,” Mary Musgrove mused as she sat down again.

At that moment, the waiter came into the room. “Pray,” said Wentworth,“can you tell us the name of the gentleman who is just gone away?”

“Yes, Sir, a Mr. Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune—came in last night from Sidmouth—daresay you heard the carriage, Sir, while you were at supper—going on now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath and London.”

“Elliot!” Louisa gasped.

Charles returned to the window for a second look. “Did he say Elliot?”

“Bless me!” cried Mary.“It must be our cousin—it must be our Mr. Elliot; it must, indeed!—Charles,Anne, must not it? In mourning, you see, just as our Mr. Elliot must be.You recall that disgraceful first marriage of his. How very extraordinary! In the very same inn with us! Anne, must not it be our Mr. Elliot, my father’s heir?” Turning to the waiter, she continued, “Pray, did not you hear—did not his servant say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?”

“No, Ma’am, he did not mention no particular family, but he said his master was a very rich gentleman and would be a baronet someday.”

“There! You see!” cried Mary, in an ecstasy. “Just as I said! Heir to Sir Walter Elliot!—I was sure that would come out if it were so. Depend upon it—that is a circumstance, which his servants take care to publish wherever he goes. But, Anne, only conceive how extraordinary!” Mary clutched at Anne’s arm. “I wish I looked at him more. I wish we had been aware in time, who it was, that he might have been introduced to us.What a pity we should not have been introduced to each other!—Do you think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at him; I was looking at the horses, but I think he had something of the Elliot countenance.” She jumped up and paced the floor, trying to organize her thoughts.“I wonder the coat of arms did not strike me! Oh!—the great-coat was hanging over the pannel and hid the arms; so it did, otherwise, I am sure, I should have observed them and the livery too; if the servant had not been in mourning, one should have known him by the livery.”

“Of course, we all would have,” Charles assured his wife.

“
We
saw him briefly on the steps to the beach,” Louisa wanted desperately to be a part of the action.

When she could command Mary’s attention, Anne quietly observed, “Mary, Father would not wish us to renew an acquaintance with Mr. Elliot. Father and Mr. Elliot have not for many years been on such terms as to make the power of attempting an introduction at all desirable.”

Frederick spoke with an edge of sarcasm:“Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together, we must consider it to be the arrangement of Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin.”

Mary Musgrove ignored Frederick’s snide remark.“Of course,” said Mary to Anne, “you will mention our seeing Mr. Elliot the next time you write to Bath. I think my father certainly ought to hear of it; do mention all to him.”

“Mary, I will not bring such news to our father; you may write him if you choose, but I shall not be the bearer of such tidings.You were away at school through much of Father’s dealings with Mr. Elliot. I know the offense offered our father, and I suspect Elizabeth’s particular share in it.The idea of Mr. Elliot always produces irritation in both.”

“Do not be silly, Anne!” Mary cried.“Prior to the man’s arrival at an assembly or a holiday soiree, Father would want news of Mr. Elliot’s appearance in Bath if our cousin truly plans to travel there.”

Anne avoided a direct reply. Arguing with Mary would be fruitless.

“Well, all that can be decided when we return to Uppercross,” Frederick offered. “We promised Captain and Mrs. Harville a final walk about Lyme.We ought to be setting off for Uppercross by one.”

—John Clare,“First Love”

 

Breakfast was not long over when Captain and Mrs. Harville and Captain Benwick joined them. As a group of nine, they started to take their last walk about Lyme. Frederick noted how quickly Benwick sought Anne’s attention; evidently, their conversation the preceding evening did not disincline him to see her again. He walked beside her, talking as before of Mr. Scott and Lord Byron.

“Your Miss Anne was most kind in speaking so long to James,” Harville confided as he and Frederick walked along together.“She did a good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish he could have such company oftener. It is bad for him, I know, to be shut up as he is, but what can we do? We cannot part.”

“Then you should tell her so.” Frederick nodded in Anne’s direction.“It does not surprise me, though;Anne Elliot is the kindest woman I have ever known.The man who receives her affection is blessed indeed.”

Frederick’s words sparked Harville’s interest. “How long have you known Miss Anne?” His curiosity flamed into being.

Frederick still watched Anne as she spoke to James Benwick. “Nearly eight years,” he mumbled.

“Eight years?” Thomas’s voice rose with anticipation. “When you were in Somerset with Edward?”

Frederick’s attention snapped back to his friend. “I understand the implications,Thomas, but you are mistaken. Miss Anne’s family
is the only aristocratic one in the area. Of course, my brother would be familiar with them.”

“Anything you say,Wentworth.” However, his tone told Frederick that Harville did not believe him.

“Get on with you.” He laughed as he lightly shoved Harville in Anne’s direction.

They continued on for some time, each pair engrossed in their conversations. Eventually, Milly Harville became concerned for her husband’s leg injury, and she insisted they return home. The group would accompany them to their door and then return to the inn and set off themselves. By all their calculations there was just time for this; but as they drew near the Cobb, there was a general wish to walk along it once more.

“We really must,” Frederick heard Louisa beg Charles.

“Louisa,” he tried to reason with his sister,“we must be off. Late November days are short of light, and Mama will worry so if we do not return home by dinner.”

“Be patient with me, Charles,” she nearly whined. “How long would it actually take us to walk the length of the Cobb? I may never get a chance to see the ocean again. Do not deny Henrietta or me that pleasure.”

Her words softened Musgrove’s resolve; the man had little backbone when it came to making decisions regarding his family. Frederick thought it ironic Louisa spoke so poorly of the manipulative ways of Mrs. Charles; from his point of view, Louisa incorporated the same techniques into her dealings, as did Mary Musgrove. She whined and cajoled until she got her way, and Louisa always “demanded” to be the center of attention.
Poor Charles! He lives a life of constant compromise!
thought Frederick.

“What is a quarter hour, give or take?” Charles assured the others in a loud voice.

“We depart from you here, Wentworth.” Harville turned to take his leave of his friend. “You will no longer be a stranger to us; we insist that you return soon.”

“Wild horses could not keep me from seeking your hospitality.”
He took Milly’s ungloved hands and brought each to his lips.“You are charged with keeping this rascal in line,” he teased as he lightly kissed her knuckles. “I leave him in your able hands.” With those words, he took Harville’s hand and placed Milly’s in it.

Thomas interlaced his fingers with hers.“Only my Milly could have such control over me. As you recall,Wentworth, I do not take orders very well.”

“Neither of us does, my Friend,” he said, and he bowed to Milly. So with all the kind leave-taking and all the kind interchange of invitations and promises, which may be imagined, they parted from Captain and Mrs. Harville at their own door, and still accompanied by Captain Benwick, who seemed to cling to them to the last, proceeded to make the proper adieus to the Cobb.

“My, it is very windy today!” Mary noted as she grasped her bonnet to keep it from blowing away. “Should we not turn back, Charles?”

“What do you think, Anne?” Like everyone else in the group, Charles constantly sought Anne’s confirmation when it came to dealing with her sister.

Anne’s cloak whipped around her. She stood steady, allowing the wind to dance about her, rather than to fight its force. Anne offered her brother-in-law a slight smile, knowing Charles would suffer if the group did not agree with Mary’s request. “The wind seems especially powerful today. I am sure that now you know the beauty of this place, you will return in the
spring
, when it is more lively in its entertainments.”

“I agree.” Charles nearly laughed with having the decision taken from his hands. He would neither want to disappoint his sisters nor to meet his wife’s wrath.“Let us turn back.”

“May we at least walk along the shoreline?” Henrietta asked quietly.

Charles jumped at the idea of appeasing everyone. “What a good compromise, my Dear.” He turned to the others. “Let us get down the steps to the lower.”

As he did previously, Frederick preceded the others down so he
could help the women on the narrow steps. Charles and Benwick remained at the top as Mary, Anne, and Henrietta descended the tapered path.All were contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight.

“I need no one’s help,” Louisa assured her brother, pulling her hand from his. “I would prefer to stay up here; the wind is of no consequence to me.”

“Please, Louisa,” Charles Musgrove murmured.

She hissed,“You give in to Mary too often!”

Charles whispered,“I made my bed years ago, and although you do not understand now, soon you will realize a man must pick his battles.This is not one I choose to fight.”

“Then go on,” she admonished him.“I will make my own way.”

Frederick remained at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Louisa’s descent.The others, on safe footing, began to regroup and move away. Charles came past Frederick, grinning sheepishly for his part in the disagreement, followed closely by Benwick.

Louisa was nearly three-fourths of the way down the steps when she called out to Frederick,“Catch me!” In all their walks, he had had to jump her from stiles; the sensation delighted her.

“Louisa, be careful,” Frederick cautioned, as he quickly moved to prepare for her leap.The hardness of the pavement for her feet made him less willing to play her game upon the present occasion; he did it, however. Catching her at the waist, Frederick sat Louisa decisively away from him.

Louisa smiled flirtatiously; then she broke away from his grasp, and, instantly, to show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again. “Once more,” she teased as she climbed several steps higher than before.

“Louisa, no!” he warned her. “It is too high! The jar will be too great!”

Having let her go, Frederick turned momentarily away to pick up his hat and gloves, which he had discarded to catch her the first time. But before he could turn back to properly station himself, she smiled and said,“I am determined. I will.”

He put out his hands; she was to precipitate him by a half second. Louisa’s body floated through the air in slow motion; her skirt tail and cloak spread out like angel wings. Frederick saw the horror overtake her face when she realized he could not catch her, and her body braced for the impact.The thudding sound reverberated as she fell on the pavement on the Lower Cobb and was taken up lifeless.

“No!” Frederick’s words, as well as the sound of Louisa’s crash turned the rest of the party in their direction. Frederick hovered over her. “Louisa—please, Louisa!” He reached for her hand.There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but her eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like death.—The horror of that moment froze all who stood around. Wentworth, who caught her up, knelt with her in his arms, looking on her with a face as pallid as her own, in an agony of silence.

“She is dead! She is dead!” screamed Mary, catching hold of her husband, her words contributing to his own horror and making Charles immoveable. In another moment, Henrietta, sinking under the conviction, lost her senses too and would have fallen but for Captain Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported her between them.

“Is there no one to help me?” Frederick cried out in a tone of despair, as if all his own strength left him.

“Go to him. Go to him!” cried Anne. “For heaven’s sake go to him. I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands; rub her temples. Here are salts—take them, take them!”

Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same moment, disengaging himself from his wife, were both with Frederick.They raised Louisa up and supported her more firmly between them. They did Anne’s bidding—rubbing her extremities and placing the smelling salts under her nose—but in vain.