Chapter One

Posted on Friday, 26 May 2006

Anne Elliot was used to being forgotten by the majority of her acquaintance; her father was dismissive of her, her elder sister neglectful and her younger was more concerned with the latest fashions to really share any of her precious time with a very plain, very middling, middle sister. So it came as something of a surprise when, while taking her daily walk just outside Kellynch Hall (for neither her father, nor her great friend Lady Russell, would allow her to proceed any further), she met someone who thought her – if not a great beauty – at the very least, an interesting person.

She later discovered that his name was Frederick Wentworth, that he was in the navy, and that that bunch of fellows did indeed have servants and cutlery like she did, but now he was only an extremely new and brilliant acquaintance.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb your solitude. I will leave now.” He was ready to depart when she rose from the rock she had been resting on and urged him not to be dissuaded from his path by her company. He smiled, thanked her and, after due consideration, sat down on a boulder near her seat. “It is a very fine day.”

“Yes, it is. I do so love these parts of England, although I have not seen many more.” Upon his look, she explained, “My father journeys only to London, and that is a place which I do not care to reside in for any period of time.”

“You are very wise then, Miss-” he stopped and realized that they had not yet introduced themselves. “I am sorry, I do not know your name. You must think me a terrible savage for not telling you before!”

“No! I would not think that. Anyway, I did not give you my name either.”

“But you are a lady, and as such it is not your place to make introductions.” He stood, moved over to her, and bowed dramatically. “Frederick Wentworth, at your service.”

“Anne Elliot. It is a pleasure to meet you,” she was currently reduced to a fit of laughter and giggles which she was sure would surpass anything of the sort from Mary – even when introduced to the young Mr Musgrove.

“Miss Elliot! Then you are-” he turned round and peered into the gardens which were just behind them. “You are one of the Elliots of Kellynch Hall. My brother has been telling me of your father.”

“Then you are Mr Wentworth's brother! The sailor!” Then a slight sense of shame overcame her at being so informal with him, and she quit speaking at once.

“The sailor! Has he been prattling on in his sermons then?”

“No, sir. Not about you anyway.”

Mr Wentworth laughed and leaned back against the wall into Kellynch Hall, “Oh, just give it a bit of time. No doubt he will inform you of the scandalous behaviour which is so painfully common to sailors.” Anne blushed at his meaning – or rather, at the thought of any such scandalous behaviour. He seemed to remember who he was talking to and changed his subject to something far safer. “The gardens are very...colourful.”

“Well, father and Elizabeth – my older sister – brought in someone from the Continent to redesign them. It is a pity though, I would have preferred the slight wildness which used to cling to the older garden. But there is nothing I can do. Anyway, I dare say that I will grow used to such...splendour.”

“Well, you may be able to have your own piece of nature someday. I am sure that your husband would not mind.”

“Possibly, Mr Wentworth. Possibly.”

Their rather interesting – perhaps too interesting – conversation was then halted by the hubbub of an approaching carriage – the clicking of the wheels told Anne that it was not her father's (for he had expressly ordered that the wheels on his carriages should never make a sound above what was necessary for movement). As soon as the crest was within sight, she knew it to be that of Lady Russell.

It stopped a few yards from where the two of them were, and Lady Russell leaned out of the window. “Anne! Whatever are you...” Her gaze traveled over the man's visage and her own features abruptly froze. “And who is this? I do not think that we have been introduced.”

“This is Mr Frederick Wentworth, Mr Wentworth's brother. He has just come into the area.”

“Indeed. How exciting. And how do you find it?”

“It is very beautiful.” Lady Russell's eyes narrowed and she looked back at her god-daughter.

“Anne, I am going to call on your father. Would you care to accompany me?” Anne tried not to show her disappointment at such a move. She did not want to return to the relative dullness of her home, but knew that her old friend would not permit her staying with her new friend.

“Father is away, so is Elizabeth. They have gone into town and will not be back for a few days.”

Lady Russell was outraged, “Did they not take you? Oh, Anne!”

“I do not care for clothes and such things as they do, it would only have been a hindrance and I fear that it would have greatly diminished their pleasure.” Anne willed Lady Russell not to speak any further, and that woman seemed to have decided that she wouldn't – to avoid a scene in front of a person of inferior birth.

“Well, I will travel up there anyway.” The footman jumped down from his post at his Mistress' instruction and hastily opened the carriage door. Anne had no choice but to obey her godmother, and so she advanced. However, before she stood on the first step she heard someone beside her. Mr Wentworth was offering her his hand to help her get into the vehicle. She could sense her friend's disapproval, but accepted the offered hand anyway, and soon she was inside and speeding off to her home (as much as Lady Russell would allow her carriage to speed anyway). She longed to glance out the window and thank the man for helping her, but she could not because of her fear of both what she would discover about herself, and what Lady Russell would say if she did.

“Very forward that man! The nerve! However, one must make allowances for these sailors, they are barely civilized anyway. How he can be related to our Mr Wentworth is a mystery!” She folded her gloves and placed them in her lap, leaning forward slightly to grasp Anne's hand. “Which reminds me, I will pick you up for Church tomorrow. And I have invited the curate to dine with us after, although now we will undoubtedly be stuck with that wretch of a brother.”

“Lady Russell,” Anne reprimanded her slightly, “We do not know this person yet, perhaps he will be a pleasant escape from my family.”

“Mind my words, Anne, that man will be trouble.” She leant back against her seat, “And it has always been my way to never trust a sailor.”

“Why?”

“I met one of that profession and I can only say that he behaved intolerably towards me – I have not forgiven him yet and it has been nearly two decades since that unfortunate meeting. Now, I have brought some books for us to look over.”

Much later, when Lady Russell had finally allowed herself to leave Anne and when they had discussed books and poetry until stupor, Anne rose from the small parlour and proceeded to her room. The servants were taking a much needed break (and, she suspected, were celebrating the absence of Sir Walter and Elizabeth), and so Anne was left to prepare for bed alone. She thought back to what Lady Russell had told her, of what she had discovered of Frederick Wentworth, and could only suppose that perhaps Lady Russell was too quick in her judgment of sailors in general. Surely, Frederick Wentworth – the brother of a man of the Church – was not a rake and miscreant as her friend believed him to be.

And as she put out the candle and prepared to sleep, an inexplicable joy rose up within her at the prospect of a future meeting with Mr Frederick Wentworth.

Chapter Two

Posted on Tuesday, 13 June 2006

Before Mr Wentworth had been made curate of the little church of Monkford, there had been a very old and very severe reverend who nobody had ever truly liked. Old Mr O'Reilly was the worst sort of a man for the Church – he was a drunkard and, although Anne suspected that he had indeed been educated, he presented the image of being as uncultured and ignorant as any of Sir Walter's worst tenants. The arrival of a young man who seemed not to partake in the Devil's own drink was greeted with enthusiasm among the congregation, and the excitement was bubbling over today as the rumours wound round the church that the delightful Mr Wentworth's brother had come into the area and that he would be coming to the service that day. Only Sir Walter and Elizabeth's absence surpassed that euphoria.

“Lady Russell, who else is coming to dine with you today?”

“Well, Mr Wentworth and his brother, Mr and Mrs Dawndridge and their daughters,” Anne sighed to herself. The Dawndridges were very nice people – the parents especially – but the daughters, all three of them, were the flightiest bunch of creatures she had ever met. “And Mr Knox and his son and Mrs Harwood.”

“Oh.”

“I thought that you and George Knox would like discussing prose – he is a very studious young man and he will have a very prosperous future. I am sure that you will like him immensely.” Anne did not think that she would as the only occasion she had met George Knox was at a Church fête when he had spilled the refreshments onto the polished floor of the Church Hall and then had proceeded to blame it on a poor maid standing nearby. No, he wasn't her favourite person at all.

“Lady Russell, perhaps we should venture into the Church; I'm sure that Mr Wentworth would like to start.”

“Of course,” she extended her arm and, as she and Anne walked into the Church, Anne caught sight of the man she had met yesterday – Frederick Wentworth. Wasn't Frederick a very fine name? “Anne, do not look at that person. One would not want to give him any ideas.” She immediately withdrew her gaze from his figure just at the moment when he had finally realized that someone was staring at him. He bowed his head at them and Anne dared to smile back before Lady Russell dragged her to her seat.

“Doesn't he look very handsome?” Anne grew flustered – how could her friend know what she was thinking?

“I am sure that the sea air has affected his complexion.”

“Anne, I do not believe that George Knox has ever been near the sea in my life! The notion!” If Anne had not been so mortified she would have smiled at the idea of the portly George Knox, who was famous for liking life's comforts, working on a wretched boat in the middle of a horrendous storm.

“I must have been confused.”

Lady Russell looked at Anne with a harsh glance and it took every fibre of strength that she possessed at that moment not to look suspicious. If Lady Russell wanted to convince herself that there was a possibility of a romantic attachment between George Knox and herself then she would not attempt to dissuade her from that notion.

Mr Wentworth's sermon was, mercifully, not long or tedious (a welcome break for those among the congregation who had had the misfortune to sit patiently through drunken rants for many years), and soon they were all heading outside with Anne and Lady Russell in the lead – it was something which Anne did not relish, and she loathed everyone's glances at her, but she knew that it was her duty as a representative of the Elliots, and her family, although they did not care for her as she would wish, meant very much to her.

“Mr Wentworth, a delightful sermon! I have long agreed with you that these, these heathens, who deny the belief of the Lord God are terribly misguided. One must do everything in one's power to convert them, I do believe. We are God's disciples after all.”

Thus began a very long and torturous discussion between the curate and the Lady of the qualities that a missionary would need. The rest of the congregation passed them by and soon Anne was left standing slightly to the side of the pair, vainly hoping to appear as interested as them in the topic at hand.

“Miss Anne, are you as ardent a follower of the Church as your friend seems to be?” Frederick had come up behind her and was drawing her away from the other two, towards a bench in the courtyard.

“Lady Russell believes passionately in those sorts of things. I am of the opinion that, although the Church is very important and its importance should not be belittled, religion should not be the only thing we value in our lives – something which governs our every action. I would not like such control.”

He appeared satisfied with her answer and she, in her embarrassing naivety, decided to ask him whether religion was welcome on the Navy's ships. “Do you think we are savages?” He was clearly amused by her question, “I can assure you that we are not pagans. I don't think Edward would let me be anyway. He'd probably see it as his duty to save me from the fires of hell.”

“You don't seem that...” she trailed off, unwilling to approach the subject lest it provide more impetus for Lady Russell's hatred.

“I don't seem what? That religious?” She nodded hesitantly, pulling her shawl slightly up her arms again. He was spurred into action by this gesture and helped her move the material himself. A sly glance at Lady Russell told Anne that she had not witnessed Frederick's behaviour. However, there was a severe and disappointed look on Mr Wentworth's face, but his brother did not notice it. Instead, he sat back and admired his work. “There! Never say that we sailors are barbaric, many of us have sisters or mothers, or even wives, who instruct us on such things.”

“Do you?”

“My sister, she is married to a sailor herself, gave me a tedious lesson on how to take care of myself – you would think that I was helpless. Women!” He was genuinely annoyed and, once he remembered where he was and to whom he was talking, he started apologizing.

“Please don't. I like honest people.” They smiled at each other, sharing the moment, and savouring the brief glimpse of sun that had just broken its way out of the clouds.

“Frederick! I must be going now, we must be going now,” Mr Wentworth looked piercingly at his brother. It was evident that he disapproved of the interaction between Frederick and Anne, and he seemed to rise even higher in Lady Russell's regard when he successfully ushered his brother away to their home.

“Well, Anne. What do you think of that sailor now? Aren't they all brutes?”

“Perhaps, perhaps the sailor who you knew is different from Fr-, from Mr Wentworth's brother.”

“I do not think so, they are all the same. Most men are complete scoundrels and rakes – never trust one.”

“Except perhaps, George Knox?” Anne knew that she was verging on rude, but she was so consumed with the memory of her short conversation with Frederick Wentworth that she couldn't refrain herself from acting as she usually wouldn't.

“Anne Elliot! You know that I do not, that I can not, tolerate imprudence. See, he is wearing off on you already – hateful fellow!”

By the time they returned to Lady Russell's house, the servants had already prepared most of the dinner and so there was little for the mistress of the house to do but oversee the presentation. Lady Russell, like Sir Walter, had a great appreciation of things that were fine to look at and she would never even dare to let guests be greeted by anything other than perfection. It was only her need to dress that took her away from the dining room, and that only occurred when one of her most senior servants nearly dragged Lady Russell up to her chambers. No one ever dragged that woman, and the other servants believed that it was only for the older woman's age and experience with the mistress that she did not get dismissed at once.

“Miss Elliot, would you like some of these flowers in your hair? It's a fine day for it now.”

Anne glanced at the flowers and decided immediately that such showy displays were not for her. She had no passion for making herself appear better than she actually was, as was the fashion of many young ladies – and older ones too – of the time. “No, thank you. Will you pass me the white ribbon instead?” The servant duly did as she was asked and soon Anne found that she was ready.

“Oh, Miss Elliot! You do look very beautiful.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course, that white in your hair's just charming.”

Anne smiled, and a thought rose unbidden in her mind that if the maid liked it then certainly Frederick Wentworth would appreciate it as well. “Thank you, you can go now if you want.”

The maid bowed and left the room, skirts trailing on Lady Russell's polished floors. Anne rushed down the stairs, eager to see what treats were on offer today, and discovered to her delight that there was a fine selection of meats and fruits and, as she snuck a look into the pantry, delicious deserts which her father and Elizabeth would not even contemplate eating. It would not do for a baronet and his daughter to increase in weight. No, the figure must be preserved at all times – or so was Sir Walter's belief.

“Miss Anne? We are early I fear.”

“Mr Wentworth! No, I am glad of your company. And of yours as well sir,” she added, curtseying slightly to the curate's brother. They bowed in reply.

“When do Sir Walter and Miss Elliot return from the town?”

“Tuesday, I believe. I think that they needed to find some new materials and furnishings for the house.” She turned to Frederick, “My father and sister adore such tasks. My younger sister, Mary, is away at school still – she will return in a few months for good.”

“I'm sure Charles Musgrove will be pleased to hear that.” It seemed as though Mr Wentworth was determined to be obtuse that day, and uncharacteristically teasing. Perhaps his brother's company had dispelled some of the worries he held, for it must be difficult worrying about someone and not being able to know exactly where they were or if they were well. She did not know if she would be able to cope in such a situation.

However, when she happened to look at Frederick Wentworth, she believed that – although it would be hard, worrying about someone far away – surely the rewards outweighed the downsides.

Chapter Three>/font>

Posted on Monday, 19 June 2006

The time Anne spent solely with the Wentworth brothers was brief for, not long after their arrival; Lady Russell came to greet them – Mr Wentworth with joyous welcome, and his brother with only the bare minimum of civility. Anne could see that it annoyed Frederick but he did not seem all that bothered by Lady Russell's snubs – in fact, she was almost convinced that it drove him on to act worse than he really would have. Soon, he was all loud laughs and full of jokes – Mr Wentworth soon made it clear that he would not tolerate such behaviour, however, and so Frederick ceased at once.

All too quickly the rest of the guests arrived and Anne was forced (by her own good nature) to exchange pleasantries with the Knoxes and the Dawndridges. The daughters of the latter family were over-excited at the thought of having someone new in their social circle (for their parents, although doting, would not dare to take them to London) and George Knox, the heir presumptive, merely glared at this sailor, at his competition as he saw it.

“Emilia, I do declare that you are incredibly incorrect. For I own the blue pelisse and that is the one you took, not the pink one – although I daresay that was next on your agenda.”

Her sister vehemently proclaimed her innocence until the eldest, a rather more sensible girl than her sisters, ordered them to stop their quarrelling at once. “It is very bad manners, now Lady Russell has been so kind to invite us to her party so our behaviour should be dictated by that.” Emilia and Margaret, both of whom were not happy to end the conversation so abruptly, acquiesced and soon a relative calm was restored.

“Miss Anne, is that charming fellow Mr Frederick Wentworth, dear Mr Wentworth's brother? The sailor?”

She glanced behind her and saw to her delight and dismay that Frederick was watching her with the utmost interest. There was a slight snigger on his face and, as she realized that she must do her duty and introduce him to the Dawndridge daughters (for that was undoubtedly what they were angling after) her happy spirit decreased slightly.

“Would you like me to introduce you?”

“Oh yes please! We would be ever so grateful!”

They dragged along after her like Mr Musgrove's hounds hovered around him and eventually she reached Frederick. “Mr Frederick Wentworth, may I present to you the Miss Dawndridges – Miss Dawndridge, Miss Emilia Dawndridge, and Miss Margaret Dawndridge.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Again the fit of giggles broke out and Anne was relieved that she had never been at the stage where giggling was the main consequence of any action.

“This is Mr Wentworth, a...” She realized that she did not know what rank he was in the navy and was ashamed of her ignorance, he, however, soon informed her that he was a commander. “A commander? Does that mean I should call you Captain Wentworth?”

This resulted in a smile, “Miss Anne, I am convinced that I should be delighted with whatever you call me – it does not signify what.” Needless to say, cackles of laughter erupted from the other girls at such a comment – every thought in their head telling them that Anne was excessively lucky that she had attracted the attention of so handsome a man. And a sailor! One could not wish for anything else...well, Margaret preferred a soldier to a sailor, but that was of little significance.

“Oh! There is Lady Russell, you must behave yourselves!” The younger two sisters glared at the elder and Margaret – the youngest of them all, a bright girl just out of the schoolroom – declared that she was fearfully afraid of Lady Russell and that she would much prefer to go and speak to one of the other guests. Catherine reprimanded her and insisted that if she fled then she would only make that lady more scornful of her, “Isn't that right, Miss Anne?”

“Possibly, it depends.”

Frederick drew her away from the approaching Lady Russell and led her over to the window, from where there was a very clear and pretty view of the gardens – which were a lot more pleasant to look at than the monstrosity which Sir Walter had inflicted on his daughters. “They were very...interesting.”

“I am glad you think so.”

“No, I meet too many ladies like that, ladies who are too full of good spirits and giggles to contemplate anything more serious than whether or not Miss so and so has been entertaining the attentions of Mr so and so for too long. Dreadfully boring stuff.”

Anne could not help but agree however, out of propriety and a sense of respect for Mr and Mrs Dawndridge, she would not openly lump their daughters into such a category.

“Do you agree with me?”

Still she said nothing.

“Little minx! I know very well that you are of the same opinion but,” he paused and considered the matter. “I understand now. You are too good a lady to censure people in this way. Fair enough. I am not too good a gentleman though, and so I feel perfectly easy doing so.” He leaned in slightly, but not enough to make the distance improper, “That is perhaps why your friend does not like me. The sea has taught me bad manners.”

“Oh no! You are perfectly acceptable!” She blushed when it became apparent to her that she had complimented him quite openly and that he had accepted it with as much joy as he could muster while being stuck in the house of a person who hated him and being forced to meet people who only wanted to inspect a new character.

“I am glad you should think so. It would be dreadful if I had offended you so early on.”

“Well, be safe and easy in the knowledge that you have not.” He mock bowed which elicited a laugh from Anne.

At this, Lady Russell and Mr Wentworth's attention was grabbed and, seeing both their charges being so impertinent as to talk privately to one another, proceeded to grab their respective companion and haul themselves from the other.

“Anne, there is someone here who would much like to see you – a gentleman who I esteem very much, and I'm sure you will too in time.” Oh no. Such an introduction could only mean George Knox.

“Miss Anne, how delightful to see you once again.” Although the words themselves appeared to contain a certain rakish quality, Mr Knox was as dull and despondent as Anne had ever seen him. Even his clothes were in disarray, and that was saying something. Whatever had affected him in that way had, however, not affected his appetite, for he was currently eating an enormous pastry which was dripping with jam and cream. “Lady Russell, I must commend your pastry chef. This is heavenly. Almost as good as the ones found in London.” Clearly, Lady Russell was determined not to be insulted by this man and so she took this snipe with grace.

“Well, Pierre has only been with us a short time, but I am confident that he will become first class.” She glanced over her shoulder at something and this time she had no compunction in leaving Anne to talk privately with a man she was barely acquainted with. “I must leave, dinner will be soon.”

This was evidently in answer to an expected question from George Knox, because he nodded appreciatively and even went so far as to pat his round stomach and – Anne suspected – let out a belch at the same time.

Fortunately she did not have to endure his company for long as the call soon came for dinner. As everyone began to pair off, Anne had a horrible notion that George would lead her there and then she would surely be confined to his presence all night. However, he chose to accompany Miss Dawndridge (or rather, she chose to accompany him for she managed to drag him away from the table of refreshments – although Anne was not sure how such a slight girl managed it).

“May I?”

“Yes, you may.” She placed her arm in Frederick's and they started off. It was not far to the dining room but, between George Knox's slow walking and Frederick's determination to keep his pace even slower, they were able to have quite an interesting conversation about life on board a ship and whether he ever got sea sick. To this question he laughed.

“No! Certainly not! Did you think that I achieved the position of commander while being violently ill?” She was ashamed to admit that she had, but he did not make an issue of it. “No, my sister married a sailor when I was very young and they regularly took me from one port to another – or rather, from their home to Edward's.”

“And where are your sister and her husband now? Surely he is not involved in the current situation?”

“No, he is in the East Indies – and my sister with him. Honestly! I know they are devoted to each other but at times they take it to ridiculous lengths.”

“But would you not do the same for someone you loved?”

He lowered his gaze slightly and she felt his grip on her arm loosen, however, he soon recovered himself and began to tell her that if he found the very woman for him, and if was in command of the ship, he would consider the matter.

“I am happy to hear it, for how are sailors meant to function without their wife by their side?”

This earned a hearty chuckle from him, “Oh Miss Anne, there are various ways in which a man may function without his wife's company. A good few sailors find that these methods quite wipe their minds of their spouses.”

“Oh? What are these ways?”

He stopped for a minute and she stopped with him. “I should not tell you.”

“Why ever not?”

“I fear...it would not be proper to discuss such matters with you.”

Anne still did not realize what he was talking about but decided to defer to his better judgment and not question him any more. So, together they hurried into the dining room and were once again separated by the large mass of George Knox.

Chapter Four

Posted on Tuesday, 11 July 2006

The dinner was an excessively tiresome event for all concerned – even Anne – as it was made up of various stilted or inebriated speeches and proclamations – she had not expected that old Mr Knox would act in such a way. His son, however, was still miserable and dulled the whole table with his dour expression.

“I do not expect that you will sympathize with me, Miss Anne. For I am surely the blackest villain in your household!” The melodrama was all too hideously present and she was convinced that if he had not exaggerated much there might have been some sympathy in her soul for him.

“And why would that be?”

“Do not pretend to be so ignorant, for no doubt I am all that you sister and father have been talking about!” He picked up his serviette and, with one grand swipe, cleaned his mouth.

“They have been absent for several days.”

“Oh.” This seemed to come as a shock to him and Anne happened to catch a glimpse of the expression on Frederick's face and almost laughed the sight of it. Oh he could be perfectly ridiculous at times, charming yet still ridiculous. “You see,” George leaned in closer and Anne overcome with the stench of his bodily fluids, “I was hoping to become your brother.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. I proposed to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth I will call her for that is what she has been to me for me for many months now, and she...she...oh I can not speak any more of it.” However, he immediately contradicted himself when he continued in an even more distressed and dramatic tone, “She rejected me! The nerve of her! Yet she is so very beautiful, oh yes...her beauty has caused me many wonderful imaginings. For many nights now I have relished the prospect of sleep because of her heavenly pres-”

“I think that that is enough Knox,” murmured Frederick who was sitting opposite them. Anne shot a grateful smile at him and he returned it. This went unnoticed by George who was still in near hysterics at the thought that his 'beloved Elizabeth' thought ill of him.

“For I had just eaten rather a lot of lamb in a most rich sauce – she would not have been put off by that, would she? I fear that she was! Oh how fickle the female species are!”

This time neither Frederick nor Anne could smother their laughter but, while the former was able to successfully disguise it as a cough, Anne let out a very undignified snort that made her spill her soup. It also gained the attention of Lady Russell who looked at her in dismayed anger. Another glance swept its way over Frederick, and Anne was convinced that the whole episode had only served to present him in an even worse light to her dear friend.

“George, I hear that you have recently invested in several cattle and other livestock.”

“Indeed, Lady Russell. They will prove most succulent, I believe.”

That was not the answer which Lady Russell had hoped to get and once again there rose around the table a very stagnated atmosphere, it felt confined and as though it was a struggle merely to stay sane and sensible (for those two things did not necessarily follow each other).

“Papa, may we go out to explore Lady Russell's gardens?” Margaret Dawndridge asked. Her papa had the sense to look ashamed at his daughter's forward behaviour, but not for long as he let them indulge in their whim so long as their hostess agreed. She did and so the plan was soon made for the Miss Dawndridges, George Knox, Anne and Frederick to venture out to explore. Anne was sought out as it was believed that she would be the absolute expert in such horticultural matters.

“I do not know where they got that idea from, for I am quite inept at that skill.”

“I am sure you are not,” murmured Frederick as he took her arm after helping her put on her shawl – all out of sight of Lady Russell of course, for if she had seen such behaviour she may have cancelled the trip altogether.

Margaret and Emilia Dawndrige soon paired off, as did the relatively new coupling of Miss Dawndridge and George Knox. Frederick and Anne were left exactly as they hoped they would be – completely alone.

“It seems we have been deserted.” She could have sworn that there was a smile in his voice and it delighted her to know that he was pleased to have her to himself.

“Yes. Perhaps now you can tell me some more of your stories about life in the navy. I long to hear what it was like, what it is like. Will you go back?”

“If I am called back then, yes. Before I came into Kellynch I wanted nothing more than to return to sea.”

“And now?”

“Now,” he glanced down at her and drew her slightly closer to him. “Now, because of.. a new acquaintance I have made, I never want to leave.” The impropriety which those words harboured was duly noted with Anne, but at that moment she couldn't care less and set about enjoying herself in his extremely entertaining company.

“Miss Anne! Lady Russell has called us in for she says it's getting quite late and she wouldn't like us to catch a chill,” said Miss Dawndridge nearly an hour later. Frederick, who had been in the middle of telling a very amusing anecdote to his companion, was greatly vexed and saw her Ladyship's intention. Anne, however, only thought of the good in Lady Russell's character and that her concern was merely that of a godmother.

“We cannot catch a chill! It's barely dark!” He exclaimed as they proceeded back towards the house.

“Lady Russell cares for us, that is all. And isn't that what she should do?” Frederick made a reply but either Anne did not hear or else she chose not to hear because there was no sign of how she received the barbed comment about her great friend.

Once inside, it was discovered that all of the elderly guests were quite tired and begged their offspring to be so kind as to relinquish their pleasures for the time being. George Knox did this quite willingly, for he wished to escape Miss Dawndridge, but the three girls were quite put out by such a sudden end to their enjoyment. After much discussion and complaints, the Knoxes and the Dawndridges left which meant that there was only one party remaining - the Wentworth brothers. Any other time, Lady Russell would have been quite content to talk theology until dawn with the young curate, but his brother posed a very immediate and dangerous threat to all her plans and, as such, she ushered them out as quickly as she could without seeming to be arrogant or ill-mannered.

“You should not encourage him, Anne.”

“Pardon?”

Lady Russell climbed the stairs to her chamber and Anne followed her, keen to know what she had meant by her words.

“Men like Frederick Wentworth.”

“What is the matter with men like him? I find him to be perfectly amiable.”

“You would. That is what they want.” They entered the little lounge next to the main chamber and, as Lady Russell ordered her maid to get some tea ready, she sat down and encouraged Anne to join her.

“I do not know what you are saying.”

“Anne, these men...they have lived for a long while with no good sort of women. They can only be expected to act in the same manner when on land again.”

“No, Frederick would not do as you are claiming he would.” As she defended him she realized that she had called him by his first name, openly, to Lady Russell. She noticed this as well and used it to add weight to her argument.

“You have known him two days and already you are acting like a love sick schoolgirl.” Anne was considerably shaken by that statement and, with a new eagerness of spirit, set about listening to and obeying her friend's advice. “You must act as your position deems appropriate – it is not fit for a young, unmarried daughter of a Baronet such as Sir Walter, to go gallivanting about the country with a sailor.” Lady Russell saw that Anne was affected possibly too much by those words, and so set about trying to smooth over the situation. “Your behaviour is all that I could expect – you are such a good girl that you believe everyone to be trustworthy and noble. I have to tell you, my dear, that that is not the case. Quite the opposite in fact.” She placed her hand on Anne's in a motherly gesture, “I am only trying to look after you as your mother would want me too. Sometimes, I fear that I am incapable of doing so.”

“No! No! Lady Russell, you have proven yourself to be an excellent friend and I am convinced that my mama would find anything wrong in your conduct towards me.”

Lady Russell was not the type of woman to be easily affected by sentiment, but at hearing these words she found herself almost welling up with tears: the mention of her dear friend and her god-daughter had brought her to such a state. And, of course, thoughts of unworthy sailors – handsome ones at that – always brought up recollections of Mr Thomas Lorrington.

Mr Thomas Lorrington, as she would tell Anne later, was a very captivating sort of man. From the first moment of their being introduced, Lady Russell – Miss Susan Brooke at that stage – had fallen easily in love – or in madness, as she often believed it to have been. She had presumed that he felt the same and, although their courtship was quite long (far longer than her sister's to the Baron had been), she had been convinced that he was as eager as she was to be married. They had talked of it many times and there was such a hope rising in her soul that she assumed that the moment would never be that far away. The proposal had occurred some eighteen months after their initial meeting, but that time had not diminished Lady Russell's love for Lorrington, on the contrary it had been the cause for even more joy than she could have forethought. However, her parents – her dear papa more particularly – did not like Lorrington, they believed that he was nothing more than a fortune hunter who saw their beloved daughter as an ideal victim with her fortune of £20 000. They made no refusal when he petitioned for her hand, but her father began an investigation into his soon to be son's past and, especially, the state of his finances. It was soon discovered that he was not a very rich man, that he had swindled away any money he had had, and that he was in very serious debt to many people. This information was more than enough for them to expressly order Susan to break off the engagement and she, being the dutiful daughter that she was, readily assented. The parting was somewhat painful, but in her mind her behaviour was correct and justified. The belief that he had been lying to her for more than a year had hurt her deeply and made her think that all his promises had been false. This was reinforced by his actions when she broke off the engagement. He had refused to believe it, told her that she was an imbecile, had gotten extremely angry and finally had tried to take liberties with her. If anything else was needed to persuade her to reject him then that was it. She took great satisfaction in seeing him race off and disappear into the wilderness. There had never been any urge in her to discover what had happened to him, and she had purposely ignored any communications and information regarding the navy.

Her deepest fear was that Frederick Wentworth was the same sort of man that Lorrington had been – a useless gambler who had no real affection for the woman he was showing interest in. In Lady Russell's mind she could foresee the consequences of Anne developing an attachment to the sailor. As her temperament and disposition were far more delicate than Lady Russell's had ever been, the latter knew that she would take it very deeply indeed. And Lady Russell was not going to see her beloved Anne in the same deep despair she herself had found herself in when, only a few months after her aborted engagement, she had found out that Lorrington had married a beautiful and wealthy heiress.

To be continued...