Captain Wentworth's Diary Read online

  ‘Commander Wentworth,’ she said.

  There was a smile around the corners of her eyes, and it was clear she was thinking of our last encounter as much as I was.

  ‘I am surprised to see you here,’ I remarked as I drew level with her, determined to pay her back in her own coin, ‘for I was sure your duties as a companion would keep you inside, even on a morning as beautiful as this one. Can it be that Miss Elliot did not need you, or have you slipped out of the house whilst she is still abed? Do not neglect your obligations, I beg of you, lest you should find yourself turned out of the house. I would not like to see you made destitute for the sake of a morning’s stroll.’

  She laughed up at me.

  ‘Are you very angry with me?’ she asked.

  I smiled.

  ‘How could I be angry with you when you bested me in a fair fight? You would be of great value aboard a warship, Miss Elliot. Your tactics have the advantage of being both original and efficacious.’

  ‘It was too tempting!’ she said.

  ‘But what are you doing out at this hour, alone?’ I asked her. ‘I cannot believe your father would be pleased if he knew you were walking without a chaperon.’

  ‘On the contrary, he has no objection to my walking alone when I am on Elliot land.’

  I started.

  ‘Yes, sir, you see, you are trespassing. The land as far as the river belongs to us.’

  I thought of my leap across it, taken without any idea I was entering private lands.

  ‘I am glad I did not know, or I would not have come so far,’ I said. ‘But you are within your rights to throw me off. Well, are you going to call one of your gamekeepers to eject me, or are you, perhaps, going to rout me yourself?’

  ‘I believe I will ignore it for the moment,’ she said consideringly. ‘You have, after all, saved us from Napoleon. It was a great service, and as our fields still belong to us, rather than belonging to the French, then the least we can do in return is to allow you to stroll in them from time to time.’

  ‘Then, if you permit, I will accompany you on your walk.’

  She nodded gracefully and we fell into step together. I limited my stride so that I could accommodate her own smaller step, and as I looked down, I noticed that she had small and very pretty feet, encased in blue kid shoes.

  ‘Do you often walk in the mornings?’ I asked her.

  ‘Always, if the weather permits,’ she said.

  ‘The exercise seems to suit you,’ I said, noticing the air of vitality about her. ‘Are you always so animated, so early in the day?’

  She coloured slightly, and I confess I felt a surge of vanity, as I guessed it was my attentions, and not the earliness of the hour, that had brought the bloom to her cheek. I took pity on her embarrassment, however, saying: ‘Perhaps you are remembering the assembly on Friday, and how enlivening it was? Or can it be that you are one of those souls who are always happier out of doors?’

  ‘I believe I do prefer it,’ she acknowledged.

  ‘And I. I feel trapped indoors, hemmed in, but then I am used to the open sea and the endless horizon. Have you ever been to sea, Miss Elliot?’

  ‘I have been on pleasure trips around the bay at several beauty spots, but never any farther.’

  ‘And how did you like it?’

  ‘I liked it very well. It was invigorating to feel the wind in my face, and to feel the spray. I wondered, at the time, whether life was like that for sailors, who live on a ship all the time, or did it become commonplace? Do you take pleasure in the elements, Commander Wentworth, or are they something to be battled against, or simply ignored?’

  ‘On occasion the sea is our enemy, but usually the open air, the wind and the sun are exhilarating.’

  ‘But is it not confining, also, to be on board a ship? It must be frustrating to be full of energy and yet unable to go anywhere.’

  ‘Unable to go anywhere?’ I exclaimed. ‘I cannot allow it. On a ship, one is able to go everywhere!’

  ‘I mean that you cannot walk very far, for if you do so, you will fall overboard.’

  ‘There is something in what you say, though with new sights always on the horizon, there is never any urge to walk very far.’

  ‘I can understand it must be so when you are within sight of land, but surely it is not the same when you are in the middle of the ocean?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, even there. Every wave is different—a different colour, a different size—and the sails are constantly changing as they belly out or shrink with the wind. And then there is the thrill of knowing that at any minute an enemy ship might come into sight and chase us, or else present us with a tempting target to run down.’

  ‘I confess I should find that alarming.’

  As she said it her shawl slipped down into the crook of her elbow, and I was distracted by the smoothness of her arm, so that it took me some time to answer. She turned questioning eyes on me, and I noticed how deep-set they were, and how attractive.

  ‘Do you not find it alarming also?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all!’ I said, recollecting myself. ‘An enemy ship is nothing very terrible. On the contrary, it offers a man a chance to defend his country, and to seize a prize. There is a great deal of prize money to be won on the high seas, Miss Elliot, and, with the war, promotion comes quickly to those who are willing to take advantage of the opportunities on offer.’

  ‘You have already taken advantage of them, I believe. Your brother told us that you have been recently promoted.’

  ‘That is so.’

  ‘It was in consequence of the action off St Domingo, was it not?’

  ‘Indeed. Ah, that was a battle! The French were aiming to disrupt our trade, for there was little else they could do after we had decimated their fleet at Trafalgar. With their plans of invasion destroyed, they sailed for the West Indies. We gave chase, and at last we caught up with them. Then there were some spoils! Five French ships, all captured or driven ashore. A good day for England.’

  ‘And a good day for you.’

  ‘Yes. I was awarded my own command, and I had my share of the prize money.’

  She listened attentively, and then said, ‘I hear the action crippled the French Navy.’

  ‘You seem to be knowledgeable about the war,’ I said, surprised at the depth of her information, for few young ladies had any interest in anything beyond their immediate neighbourhood.

  ‘I can hardly fail to be interested, since my fate and the fate of all around me depend on the outcome. If Napoleon invades, I fear England will be very different, and I, for one, should not like to see it.’

  ‘Have no fear, we will keep you safe,’ I assured her. ‘The French Navy is not completely destroyed, alas, for they still have more than thirty ships, and they are building more to replace those they lost, but the threat of invasion is behind us, at least for now. It will take them a long time to recover from the recent blows we have dealt them, and you can continue to take your walks in peace.’

  ‘I confess I am glad.’ She stopped and looked about her. ‘I like nothing better than to stroll out of doors in the summer.’

  It was easy to see why. The English countryside, in all its verdancy, was encompassed in her gaze. There were fields and hedgerows, and the winding river flanked by placid banks. A small beach of sand was set in a hollow where the river curved, and, farther along, the water was transparent as it flowed over shallows, revealing the white and brown pebbles that littered the bottom.

  ‘This is the end of Elliot land,’ she said.

  ‘Then I must take my leave.’

  I was reluctant to do so, however, and delayed my departure by asking her if she would be at the assembly rooms tomorrow. She replied that she would, and, able to find no reason to detain her further, I expressed a hope of seeing her there and made my bow.

  As I walked away from her, I resisted the urge to look back, though I was sorely tempted. I wanted to see her standing there in her sprigged muslin, with her
shawl draped over her arms, and the sunlight catching the side of her hair. I wanted, too—let me confess it!—to see if her eyes followed me.

  I made my way to Edward’s house, and found him at breakfast.

  ‘Where have you been so early?’ he asked.

  ‘For a walk.’

  ‘I wish I had half your energy. I have a busy couple of days ahead of me, and I think I will forgo a visit to the assembly rooms tomorrow.’

  ‘Come now, you cannot ignore your neighbours, and who will the ladies dance with if you deprive them of two bachelors, for married men scarcely ever take to the floor?’

  ‘Most of the married men hereabouts are agreeable to dancing,’ Edward said.

  ‘Nevertheless, I must have you go.’

  ‘And why, pray, is that?’ he asked, helping himself to a rasher of ham.

  ‘It is only polite. Besides, I met Miss Anne Elliot whilst out walking, and discovered that she will be there.’

  ‘I hope you do not mean to pursue her, Frederick. It can come to nothing, and might harm her reputation.’

  ‘You think too much of such things. All right! All right!’ I laughed, as I saw him about to give me a sermon. ‘I will not damage her reputation, you may be sure. It will tread carefully, and treat her with the utmost respect. It will not ask her to dance more than twice, and I will not seek her out, or at least, not any more than is consistent with propriety. But I have a mind to dance with her, and as it would look odd if I were to go to the assembly rooms without you, I must beg you to find the energy.’

  ‘I am surprised at your preference. I cannot think what you see in her. I thought Miss Neville would be more to your taste,’ he remarked.

  ‘I like Miss Neville, too,’ I said, ‘but Miss Anne is better informed, and likes the sea very well!’

  ‘But will not live on it.’

  ‘You mistake the matter if you think I have marriage in mind. What, to throw myself away at the age of twenty-three, with ten years of danger and excitement before me? But I like the way she looks at me when I talk of the battles I have seen, and the ships I have captured. She is a very intelligent girl.’

  ‘Ah, I see, you fancy her a Desdemona to your Othello, a young girl enraptured by your tales of adventure in far away lands. Now I understand.’

  ‘I hope not,’ I said with a laugh, taking a slice of beef as I found myself hungry after my walk. ‘I am not a general, nor am I very much older than Anne. And if I ever show any inclination to strangle her, I hope you will knock me down! But come, Edward, I have given you my word I will not harm her. Indeed, I have no doubt my attentions will do her a world of good. They will give her confidence, and show her that her family’s estimation of her worth is not a general thing.’

  ‘If I had known your intentions were so charitable, I would not have objected in the first place. It is very kind of you to take such trouble over a downtrodden young lady,’ remarked Edward ironically.

  ‘Would you have me forgo the pleasure of getting to know her? You have always wanted safety, Edward, and I have never stood in the way of that, but I have always courted adventure. Let me make it where I may.’

  ‘If you can find it at the assembly rooms, then you are welcome to it!’ he retorted.

  ‘Rest assured, I will.’

  They may not be as stimulating as a naval battle, but my encounters with Miss Anne were proving to be just as enjoyable, in their own way.

  Monday 16 June

  I found myself thinking of the assembly with some anticipation, and as the afternoon wore on, I became impatient for the evening. I was disappointed when I walked into the rooms and saw that Miss Anne Elliot was not there.

  I overcame my disappointment, however, and passed the first two dances pleasantly enough by dancing with Miss Riversage. Her wit made her an agreeable partner to begin with, but it descended into spite before the dance was over, and I was glad to lead her from the floor.

  Miss Welling caught my eye, and I could not resist the unspoken invitation. Her elegant figure made her an agreeable partner, and her dancing did not disgrace me. On the contrary, not a few eyes followed us down the room. She had a great deal of charm as well as beauty, and entertained me with talk of art and books. I was about to continue our conversation at the side of the room, but her mother’s speculative eyes upon me showed me that I was in some danger of being regarded as a suitor, and that was something I did not want. So, after thanking her for the pleasure of dancing with her, I beat a hasty retreat.

  ‘What! Are you afraid of Mrs Welling?’ asked Edward, much amused at my sudden appearance by his side.

  ‘She has a calculating look in her eye. I went into the Navy of my own free will, and I have no intention of allowing myself to be press-ganged into marriage,’ I returned.

  The next two dances I danced with Miss Bradley, whose company was all the more agreeable to me when I learned that she was all but engaged, and then I retired to the side of the room. As I took a drink from the tray of a passing footman, I found myself at the edge of two groups, and I could not help overhearing both conversations.

  ‘. . . he is the best son a mother ever had. Ay, my Dick is a handsome lad, and as good as you could wish for,’ said a proud woman of middle age, who was standing to my right.

  A gentleman to my left was not so fortunate in his offspring.

  ‘. . . the boy’s always in trouble,’ I heard him grumble. ‘If it is not one thing, it is another . . .’

  ‘. . . not that he is perfect,’ continued the fond mother. ‘I would not wish any mother a perfect son. He is not above a bit of mischief, but that is all it is, and what I say is, a boy isn’t a boy if he doesn’t get into mischief now and again . . .’

  ‘. . . his mother is far too complacent, she refuses to see that the boy is getting out of hand and needs discipline. It is all very well sending him to school, but when he is at home in the holidays he is getting beyond control. I am all for sending him into the Army, or better yet, the Navy. That will stop him trespassing on other people’s property . . .’

  ‘. . . he can climb any wall, no matter how high. A boy should be able to climb, and he’s so good at it, he never takes a tumble, but his father is always complaining . . .’

  ‘. . . going into our neighbours’ gardens and stealing apples ...’

  ‘. . . never takes anything from the tree, of course, it’s nothing but windfalls, but his father will make a fuss . . .’ she said.

  ‘. . . fighting with the other boys . . .’ remarked the father.

  ‘. . . very good at his boxing, I do think it is so important for a boy to know the gentlemanly arts. Ah, yes, my Dick’s a good boy . . .’

  ‘. . . and I intend to pack Dick off to the Army or Navy before the year is out, whether his mother likes it or not . . .’

  I began to laugh as I realized that the two sons were the same, viewed from a mother’s and a father’s point of view. I hoped Master Dick would not find himself in the Navy, where he would no doubt plague his captain—though if he was good at climbing he might, perhaps, be useful in the rigging!

  I was about to return my empty glass to a passing footman when I caught sight of something much more interesting out of the corner of my eye: Miss Anne Elliot. She was being ignored by her father and sister, who were congratulating each other on their looks, and was standing quietly by their sides.