Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (47 page)

BOOK: Captain Wentworth's Persuasion
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“How long have you known my father, Mrs. Bradley?” Anne helped herself to a cup of tea before taking a seat on one of the settees in the drawing room.
The other woman took a seat in one of the overstuffed wing chairs, and set her cup and saucer on an end table. “A little more than three months.”
“Do you have an understanding?” Anne asked. She sipped slowly, letting the the brew fill her senses.
“I should not speak for Sir Walter, but I am confident we are moving in that direction.” She straightened the seams of her dress as it draped over her lap. “Do you object to our possible union, Mrs.Wentworth?”
Anne took her time before answering.“If my father is satisfied, then I have no objections.”
“Your sister Elizabeth is not so accepting of our relationship,”
Mrs. Bradley confided.
“When our mother passed, my father foolishly gave all his attention to my eldest sister. Since she was seventeen, Elizabeth has acted as the mistress of Kellynch. She would not be happy to be supplanted by anyone; it is her identity, after all. Mary is Mrs. Musgrove, and Elizabeth was the mistress of Kellynch. Until Frederick came along, I had no identity; my perspective is different from theirs.”
“Hmm,” Mrs. Bradley said.
Anne took another sip of her tea.“Tell me more about yourself, Mrs. Bradley.”
The other woman smiled charmingly.“May I call you Anne?”
Anne half smiled.“As long as I may call you Amelia.”
Mrs. Bradley nodded. “You know of my previous marriage. I married Stephen at nineteen and was a widow by two and twenty. I am a year older than you and two years Elizabeth’s junior. I am independently wealthy—a gentleman’s daughter, but I would like a title to go along with my wealth. Many men find me too old; it is not as if I could have a Season at my age and with my marital status. I want a family,Anne.Your father wants a second family, possibly an heir to save his estate. Sir Walter says that, at your suggestion, he is in London with just that purpose. I am not a foolish woman,Anne. Neither am I overly emotional.Your father and I get along well together. Ours will not be a love match, but I hope it will be more than one of convenience; yet, if it is not, both of us will understand.Your father and I both married for love the first time.At least, I assume Sir Walter married the late Lady Elliot out of love; he speaks of her fondly.”
“Amelia, you should know that my father can be difficult. He is not known for his business sense; you will need to practice economy in the home. Like my mother, you will need to find a way to humor him and even to soften bits of his personality.You will have to work to conceal his failings and promote his respectability.”
“I see,” Amelia said, as if Anne had shared the secrets of the universe.
“Will you wish to move into Kellynch upon your marriage?”
Anne inquired. “I ask because Frederick’s sister, her husband, and their child have lived there some eighteen months. Frederick and I will move out soon—after these celebratory events, but Sophia and the Admiral remain.They should be given proper notice.”
Amelia put down her cup. “As you indicated moments ago, Sir Walter could economize in almost any place other than London; it is expensive to live here—to maintain a lifestyle here.The purpose of marrying your father is to assume the position of his wife—his title and his estate. Otherwise, the relationship might not seem so promising. I have a small estate—one not entailed—given to me by my father, but I cannot imagine Sir Walter would wish to live there. As I want a title, your father, likewise, wishes to save his estate and family line. I will sell my property and use the money to make Kellynch Hall solvent.”
Curious,Anne asked,“Where is your property?”
Amelia picked up her teacup again. “Oxfordshire—it is in Oxfordshire. It is a small affair with a decent house—repaired recently, as I anticipated selling it—around fifty tenants—about three thousand per year annual clearance, if my man of business keeps accurate books. I have a reliable steward who maintains it while I am away.”
“It sounds very pleasant,”Anne said wistfully.
Amelia turned her head to look at Anne sharply. “Would you and Admiral Wentworth be interested in it? I would not mind keeping it in the family.”
“Frederick and I seek something close to the sea. I do not think my husband could tolerate being landlocked.”
“That is too bad; it seemed like a perfect solution for all of us.” Amelia looked toward the open door. “I believe I hear the gentlemen coming this way.”
“Amelia,” Anne lowered her voice, trying to make sure Frederick did not hear. “Would you consider the Admiral and Sophia to be family? Might I discreetly mention your estate to Frederick’s sister? Since the birth of their child in November, they both seem more intent on putting down roots. Kellynch thrives under their
care, but I believe they would like a place of their own.”
“I would gladly entertain their inquiries. It will be our secret until your husband’s family chooses to make it public.”
Nothing more could be said as the men reentered the room. Anne could tell immediately that Frederick and her father had argued; both men looked unhappily tense. After thirty minutes of strained conversation, she feigned a headache to curtail the evening.
As Frederick led her to a waiting coach, he guided her along in a preoccupied way with his hand on her elbow. When Anne nearly stumbled getting into the coach, he came to his senses.
“I am sorry,Anne. My mind is elsewhere.”
“I suspect that you are still brooding about something stupid my father said.” She settled herself into the warmth of the coach.
Frederick climbed in after her, shaking his head.“The man certainly knows how to make me lose reason!” He took her hand as he settled himself next to her.“But you do not deserve my wrath; I beg your forgiveness.”
“What is there to forgive? Did you not defend my honor this evening?” She kissed his cheek as the coach lurched forward, ending up in his responsive arms as they swayed into the night carriage traffic. Despite his recent annoyance, her presence lightened his mood. “Now, this is the perfect way for you to beg my forgiveness,” she joked.
Frederick wrapped her in his embrace, tightening his hold. He began to drape kisses along her face. “Forgive me,” he murmured with each kiss.
“Say it again,” Anne teased as he hit one of her sensitive spots. “Again, please,” she gasped when Frederick kept up his assault. Her moan announced his total forgiveness—no further talk needed.
CHAPTER 22
So, we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
—Lord Byron,“We’ll Go No More A-Roving”
 
“Where are we going this evening?” Frederick’s secret had piqued her interest.They had spent every evening over the past fortnight at one event or another—one evening, a ball; another, a soiree; still another, a concert—but tonight would be different.They were on their own; Sophia and Benjamin had begged off to spend the evening with Cassandra Rose.
“You will see.”
Frustrated, Anne sat back in the carriage; Frederick sat across from her, staring out the coach’s window, pretending to be interested in the increasing darkness.“How long will you make me wait before you share our destination?”
Anne’s pleading pleased him; he loved to surprise her—to see the pure joy in her eyes when she experienced something new.“It is something special—just for you,” was all he divulged.
Finally, the coach halted in front of a concert house—actually, the best concert house in London. For a moment, she sat mesmerized by the impressive facade of the building. Then she asked, “A concert?” As he helped her from the carriage, Frederick remained silent; instead, he took Anne’s arm on his and led her into the crowded, brightly lit hall.
In a private box overlooking the stage, he seated her and then secured champagne from a server before closing the curtain, sealing them away from the throng. “May I say you look very beautiful
tonight, Mrs. Wentworth,” he whispered close to her ear. Even in the dimly lit theater, he could see her blush.
“Frederick, what is the program?”
“Why not read the playbill, my Love?” Smiling, he sat back in the cushioned chair.
Anne began to thumb through the pages. “Madame Tresurré!” she whispered loudly.
“I have heard that the lady is exceptional.” His smile grew with the look of bewilderment on Anne’s face.
“I have heard, Sir, from one who experienced Italian arias in their natural setting, that her performance is a disappointment.”
“What a foolish person to think so,” Frederick mocked himself. “I would imagine whoever told you such lies must have been preoccupied with something else rather than truly listening to the performance.”
“Then we will enjoy the music together.” She moved closer to him—as close as propriety would allow. “Do you suppose love songs are on the program?”
“I am sure they are, Sweetling.” He took her hand and returned it to his arm.“Will you translate the Italian for me?”
Anne tightened her grasp. “What makes you think I speak Italian well enough to translate for a man as well traveled as you, my Husband?”
Frederick grew serious for a moment. “I want what Mr. Elliot and my conceit robbed me of that evening a year ago. I want to experience the music the way it should be—with a person so in tune with herself that she becomes part of the music.That concert in Bath was nearly the end of our relationship; I came close to giving up. I walked away from the most important person in my life. In retrospect, it was a low moment—a memory I would just as soon forget. Therefore, I propose we replace the anxiety and the depression we felt that evening in Bath with a new memory, one where no one else exists but you and me—nothing but us and the music.”
“It amazes me that a man who has known the savagery of war can be such a romantic.”Anne slid her gloved hand into his, allowing
Frederick to pull her hand into his lap.
“Because I faced death and came away only scathed, I seek out the joys that life brings. For me, the most joyful moments are those I share with you; only with you do I feel whole again.”The lights began to dim throughout the theater, but their eyes remained on each other. Only when the acclaimed soprano took the stage did they turn their attention to the performance.Then Frederick and Anne traveled together to magical musical realms, their personal connection unbroken.
They would leave London at the end of the week after experiencing a whirlwind of celebratory rituals. Edward and Christine had joined them ten days prior, bringing young Edward with them. The couples set up a nursery, and Sophia noted how often Anne went there to hold the babies.
“You should be getting dressed.” Speaking softly, Sophia stood in the doorway.
Anne shifted young Edward in her arms.“Is he not beautiful?” Anne’s light touch traced the outline of the child’s face. “I could look at him for hours.”
Sophia stepped into the room, peeking in the crib at her own Cassandra Rose. “Everything else fades into insignificance when one looks into the face of a child.” She walked to where Anne sat. “Here, let me take him. You cannot be late tonight; the Prince Regent and the Queen await.”
“I suppose I should be about it.” Anne stood, but she did not make a move to leave the comfort of the room. Sophia handed the sleeping Edward to the nursery maid, and then rejoined her brother’s wife. She wrapped her arm around Anne’s waist to urge her to move.They were nearly to the door when Anne acknowledged, “I have not had my courses for three months now.”
“I know.” Sophia turned Anne toward her. “I can tell by the shine of your hair and the glow of your complexion.Women know these things without being told.Are you not happy?”
“Yes—oh yes. I have always longed for children.”
Sophia looked concerned.“Then what, pray tell, is the matter?”
“Have you noticed that Frederick never comes in here unless someone insists? What if he does not want children—I mean, we spoke of it before we married, but it has been a year, and my husband seems oblivious to the fact that he has no child.”
“Oh, Anne.” Sophia pulled her along into the hallway. “You really do not think Frederick might not want children? Do you believe he will not be happy with the news?”
“I do not want to lose him, Sophia.What if he turns from me—from our child? I could not bear it! When you and I first suspected my condition, I was sure he would be happy with the prospect; yet, now I am not so confident. Frederick has all these plans for a house and an estate and—”
“Anne,” Sophia interrupted her, “for a woman of such great intelligence, you know so little of life. If Frederick feigned disinterest in children, it was for
your
sake.As small children, the three of us used to play at knights and Celtic warriors and everything imaginable for a child, and in each play, we always imagined these heroes with their families.We feared a separation when our parents passed, and the three of us swore that staying together as a family would be the most important ideal in our lives. Frederick would be content with a household of children, one child, or no children if he had your love; but I guarantee you my brother will be ecstatic with your news. Has he not the most loving heart?”

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