Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (56 page)

“Yes, Admiral. Until tomorrow.” The doctor left, followed closely by the servants.

“Do you think you can sleep? The doctor left some laudanum if you need it.”

Frederick rose and took her hand. “Will you lie with me? I need you close.”

She slid into his one-armed embrace. “Come, let us make you more physically comfortable.We will use your bed; it is larger, and I am less likely to hit your hand. I will fix you a dose of the medicine Laraby prescribed.”

Once they were contentedly settled, Anne snuggled into his back as best she could, given her bulk. “Thank you, Anne, for understanding my need to do this my way.” His words began to slur. “I know…Lansing is an old friend…but I must make this mine.” He began to drift off to sleep.

“Frederick, there is something you should know.”

He caught her hand to his chest.“What is that, Sweetling?”

“Marcus used to brag of Sir Thomas’s conquests when we were in school, and then again when I saw him a couple of times at parties and such; it must have been in ’09 or so, and he could speak of nothing else. Marcus Lansing—Lord Wallingford—is Lord Cochrane’s cousin.You were right to not fully trust Marcus.”

“Neither should you,Anne,” he warned.

She slid her arm up and down his chest. “I needed to know all this; do not shut me out of your life again.”

“Never, my Love,” he mumbled. “You and I will see things through together.”

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge,“The Presence of Love”

 

Frederick rode hard, trying to reach Hanson Hall before dark. He had taken the last of the sulfur and coal tar to Harville and Rushick in Brighton. A week after the midnight raid on the warehouse, Wallingford had showed up, unannounced, at the estate. He wanted to know about Frederick’s involvement in the matter. By that time, he and Anne had discussed the best way to handle the situation. Frederick told Lansing he and Harwood had stumbled on the ring when he was trying to find the brother of one of his cottagers. When Lansing asked if he had led the raid, he assured the man that he had participated, but was not the spokesman for the group. His only interest lay in securing Laurie’s release. Later, when it became known in aristocratic circles that he possessed several of the portraits, Frederick claimed he had purchased them from an unknown seller in order to save them from being destroyed. To prove his point, he donated one of the paintings to the Royal Academy and sent another as a gift to George IV. Of course, Anne insisted on keeping the smallest one to display in Hanson Hall. Frederick still wondered about Lansing’s connection to the event. Had the man been involved somehow? Did he have prior knowledge of the thievery? In questioning Admiral Pennington and Benjamin, he learned that Lord Cochrane had some revolutionary ideas on how to win the war, but no one knew exactly what those ideas were. In addition, Frederick realized something else after the fact:The man in the gray coat was not among their captures. It took two months to dispose of all the barrels, but now each of his cottagers had a
sealed roof and walls.The fallow fields lay thick with sulfur; in addition, Dr. Laraby had claimed some of it.

Today, he rode for another reason. He had spent the night with Thomas and Milly, but one of his footmen had awoken the household before dawn with the news that Anne was to deliver their child. She was a few weeks early, and Frederick worried for her health. He wished now he had never left her. He had changed horses several times on his trip, and he was not sure he should not do so again. He was finally in Dorset, but he doubted the one he rode would make it all the way to Hanson Hall.

“Wentworth!” Lucas Kendrick suddenly appeared on the road. Frederick pulled up the reins on his horse.

“I am hurrying, Kendrick!” he called.“Mrs.Wentworth delivers our child.”

“I was sent to meet you.Take this horse; it is fresh, and you will get there faster. Shipley waits about twenty miles down the road with another.”

Frederick slid from the saddle and hurried to his friend’s horse. “Thank you, Kendrick, for thinking of this.”

“I cannot take the credit. It was your wife; she says she needs you home!” Kendrick called as Frederick rode away at a full gallop.

He traded horses with Shipley with seven miles to go. Horses from his own stable held up better than the nags he had secured at the posting inns across Hampshire. He rode across the wooden bridge leading to the cobbled curve in front of the house. Then Frederick slid from the horse as a footman reached for the reins. He nearly bolted through the door just as Mr. Smythe opened it. Throwing his coat at one of the men, he demanded,“Where is she?”

“Lady Orland is in her room. Mrs. Miller is with her, and Dr. Laraby is standing by if he is needed.” Smythe led the way as Frederick scrambled up the stairs.

“Then I am in time?” he begged.

Smythe could not keep up with him, and so he called after Frederick’s retreating form,“I believe you are, Sir.”

Skidding to a stop in front of Anne’s door, he hesitated, wondering
whether he should knock before entering. But he heard the unmistakable wail of a baby, and he burst through the door, completely out of breath. Mrs. Miller and Harriet, Anne’s maid, bustled about the room in a flurry of activity, but his eyes fell on the body reclining against the bed. Her hair plastered her head, and her pale face looked exhausted—the veins in her neck and across her temple were blue lines on white. His heart leapt at the sight of her—
his Anne
—so fragile—so vulnerable! She looked broken and twisted, and he moved to straighten her in the bed; then he saw the blood covering her legs and the linens.“Dear God,Anne!” he cried out in fright, as he dropped to his knees beside her.

Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again, but a smile took hold of the corners of her mouth. “You made it.” Her lips barely moved, but he heard her.

Frederick gently kissed her forehead as he brushed the hair from her face.“I am here, my Love.” He clutched at her hand, praying she was all right, but he never saw so much blood.

“Mrs. Wentworth,” Mrs. Miller came forward carrying a bundle,“would ye be likin’ to see ye boy?”

Frederick’s head snapped around; he heard the child’s cry, but he forgot it all when he saw Anne. “A boy?” he whispered loudly, his voice raspy.

“Let my husband see his heir,” she wearily told the older woman.

Looking at nothing but the bundle of swaddling clothes in Mrs. Miller’s hands, Frederick reached out to carefully take the child into his arms.“Be holdin’ his head just so,” Mrs. Miller instructed him.

Frederick nestled the child in the crook of his arm, and he turned back the blanket to gaze at the elfin face. In that moment, everything changed. “In all my life,” he murmured as he slid back the blanket and touched the soft silkiness of his child’s hair.

“Let me see,”Anne’s voice came from behind him.

Frederick bent low to lay the baby in her arms.“He is beautiful, Anne.” His words rang in the silent room. “My, God, how perfect you both are!” He leaned forward and kissed the end of her nose.“I am sorry I could not get here any faster.” He traced the outline of
his son’s face with the tip of one finger.

“And I—I am sorry,” she said haltingly, “that your daughter could wait no longer.”

Frederick looked confused. “Daughter?” His eyes fell on the black curls of his child’s hair. “Mrs. Miller, is this not my boy?” he asked, wondering why everyone now stared at him.

“Aye, Admiral, he be ye boy.” Mrs. Miller went to the far corner of the room and picked up what he suddenly realized was another child. “This here be ye gal, tho’.” She placed a second child in his arms.“She be little like her Mam, but ye should hear the gal cry.”

Frederick rolled back the covering blanket. In his arms lay a miniature Anne—no doubt about it—the baby would be the spitting image of
his Anne
. “Perfection again!” He laughed as he returned his attention to his wife.“You did it all without me!” he teased.

“Next time.” Her eyes began to drift closed.

“We be needin’ to get ye and the boy cleaned up, Lady Orland. We let His Lordship take the gal to his room.” Mrs. Miller began to shoo him away as she took his son and returned him to the makeshift nursery on the far side of the room. Frederick watched it all very carefully before bending to kiss Anne once more.

Standing slowly, he noted Anne’s exhaustion taking over.“I will be back shortly, my Love,” he whispered to her.“Take good care of Her Ladyship,” he ordered both of the women, even though he knew they would. “Come, Sweetling,” he spoke softly to the child he carried.“Let me show you your new home.” He left, humming a sailor’s song to the child.

Strolling casually through the house, he took the newborn from room to room—cooing words of love as he went.“Would you like to see your nursery?” he asked as he walked into the room. “Is it not a fine room?Your mother prepared it well, and you, my darling daughter, will thrive in this room. It is made especially for you.” He touched his daughter’s hand, and the little fingers curled around his.“Your mother claims you will wrap me around these baby fingers.” He touched the child’s hand with his lips.“Your mother is a very smart person, and like me, my child, you are blessed to be
loved by her.” Frederick rubbed his cheek against the baby’s hand. “I am sure they are finished; let us go find your brother.”

By the time he had returned with his daughter to Anne’s room, Harriet and Mrs. Miller had cleaned up the bed and Anne.With a fresh gown and her hair combed, Anne’s pale skin, less pallid, showed some returning color in her cheeks, bringing him some relief. “Your daughter returns,” he said jovially, coming to sit by Anne’s bed.Then he handed his new daughter to Mrs. Miller.

“
My
daughter?” Anne accused. “I suppose our boy is
your
son?
My
daughter and
your
son? Is that how it will be?”

“No.” He laughed lightly at her renewed playfulness.“They will be
my
daughter and
my
son when they are on their best behavior. They will be
your
children at all other times.”

“That hardly seems fair,” she countered. “
I
did all the hard work;
I
should reap the rewards.”

Frederick touched her bottom lip with his fingertip. “Is not the fact that your husband loves you more than life itself reward enough?”

“It has its benefits,” she retorted sleepily. “Are you happy, my Husband? After all, you warned me about having more than one crew member at a time.”

“Ours will be a houseful, but as long as you and the children are well, I will be content. I have a daughter to protect and a son to be my heir; plus, I have their mother to love. God gave me much in one fell swoop today.”

Anne slid her hand into his. “Have you considered names for our children?”

“Not at all. I assumed we still had weeks to discuss it, as you were not to deliver so soon.” He brought her hand to his lips, rubbing them back and forth against her knuckles. “Do you have preferences?”

The corners of Anne’s mouth turned up in delight.“I do have a thought for our daughter.”

“Pray tell.”

“You will think this insignificant, but it crossed my mind several times of late.” She hesitated, not sure how to explain what she
wanted to say. “Traditionally, I should name her after my mother Lady Elizabeth, but my sister dampens the ‘enchantment’ of that practice. Some would suggest we name our daughter after me, but that is not my wish. I always hated my name because it allowed my family to treat me as ‘plain Anne.’ I felt the name fit me quite well until you saw me—until I was no longer invisible. I do not want my daughter to be ‘plain Anne.’ I want my baby to have a name others will remember—a distinctive name.When we met again at the concert, you spoke of once being in Romola, Italy. I thought the city’s name the most beautiful sound—the way the word rolls off the tongue. Could we name our daughter Romola? If we wish to follow the traditional route, we can use
Anne
as her middle name. Romola Anne Wentworth. What do you think?”

“Just like the child, I believe the name is perfect.” Frederick would never disagree with Anne’s decision. It was the ideal name for their beautiful daughter, and some day he would tell the girl of how her mother reasoned out the choice.

Anne smiled, happy that he had agreed with her suggestion. “What of our son? Do you want him to be named
Frederick
?”

“Like you, I would prefer something else.The name fits me, but as you once told me, it is a
mouthful
—Frederick James Wentworth. My grandfather was a
Robert
. What do you think? Robert James Wentworth, the Honorable Lord Orland?”

“It is an excellent choice; your family will be pleased that you honored your patriarch.”

“Romola and Robert—our children, Mrs. Wentworth.” He laughed as he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Can you believe all this? How we arrived at this point? In ’06, would you have believed we would be married and live in this house and have these children?”

“We are living our dreams,” she whispered. “Your father and mother would be so proud of the man you have become.This land will belong to Robert some day. And both he and Romola will marry for love, as their parents did.”

Frederick bent to kiss her cheek. Anne closed her eyes and
relaxed.“You are exhausted, and rightly so, my Love. I will have the wet nurse take the children to the nursery for the night.You may see them in a few hours.” He adjusted the bed linens about her as she settled back against the pillows.

“We will need to employ another wet nurse,” she mumbled.

Frederick smiled down at her. “I will do so with tomorrow’s light.” He kissed her forehead. Frederick caught his breath on a sob of relief. “You and the children complete my life,” he whispered. “Rest now; we will talk in the morning.”