Captain Wentworth's Diary Read online

  ‘He will if he can, but he has his own relatives to think of first, and two of them have entered the church. So you see, it is not very promising.’

  ‘And is there nothing you might do on your own account?’

  ‘I am doing all I can. There are one or two possibilities. Mr Abbott, the curate of Leigh Ings, has just been given a living by one of his cousins, and I believe I have a chance of adding the vacant curacy to my own. The duties are light, and it would mean an increase in my stipend. There is also the possibility of a living in Trewithing becoming available, and as there is no one waiting for it, it might fall to me.’

  I expressed the hope that it would be so, and then I set about making my arrangements for visiting Harville. I am looking forward to meeting Harriet, and seeing what sort of woman has won the heart of my friend.

  Wednesday 16 July

  We dined with the Grayshotts this evening, and after dinner the ladies entertained us with music. Miss Denton was persuaded to perform by her mother, and proved herself a great proficient. After being encouraged by her mother to play a second sonata, she relinquished the stool, entreating Miss Anne to play. More hesitantly, Miss Anne approached the instrument. Her father looked up as she began to play and I thought here, at last, was some evidence of paternal feeling, but he turned his attention back to his conversation and continued to talk through her performance. Miss Elliot did not even do that much, and never once glanced in her sister’s direction.

  As Miss Anne’s song continued, I was drawn over to the pianoforte, for her voice was sweet and her playing showed a superior taste. I listened with pleasure, and when she had done, I asked her to favour us again. She looked surprised, then she flushed with gratification and began another song. I sang with her, and we entertained ourselves as well as others.

  Friday 18 July

  I went into town this morning, and on my return I happened to pass a small house, from which came the sound of wailing. I hesitated, but upon hearing Miss Anne’s voice coming from inside I went in, and a strange scene met my eyes. A buxom woman was sitting in the corner of the room with her apron over her head, whilst seven children were rioting by the hearth. Miss Anne, having evidently just arrived, was speaking quietly but firmly to the children, who, it became plain, were arguing over a scrap of a puppy.

  She picked the puppy up and cradled it in her arms, for it had been overwhelmed by the boisterous children. The older children jumped at it, but she reprimanded them until they stood quietly, then she soothed the younger children, who were in tears, and spoke bracingly to the woman, who, at last, emerged from behind her apron.

  Within a few minutes harmony was restored, or what appeared to pass for harmony in the house, the puppy was placed in the loving arms of the youngest child, and Miss Anne and the woman had the luxury of looking round. This had the unwelcome effect of making my presence noticed.

  ‘I heard a commotion, and wondered if I could be of any assistance,’ I explained.

  The woman said there was never a commotion in her house, I apologized, and I was about to leave when it transpired that Miss Anne was going into the village, and that the eldest girl was to go there also. I offered to escort them, they accepted my offer, and we set out together. The girl soon trailed behind, for which I was not sorry, as it meant I was able to talk freely to Miss Anne. I told her of my forthcoming visit to see Harville.

  ‘We were at the Naval Academy in Portsmouth together,’ I said. ‘Two young boys, eager to be at sea. I can hardly believe it is ten years since I went there, at the tender age of thirteen.’

  ‘You must have made many friends there,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ I told her. ‘Benwick, Jenson and Harville. Benwick was younger than the rest of us, joining the academy later, in 1797, but somehow he became one of us. Not that we stayed in the academy all the time. We were put on board ships to gain experience, and very valuable it was.’

  ‘It sounds exciting,’ said Anne. ‘Very different from my own schooldays.’

  She asked me about my training, and about my time as a midshipman, and then she told me about her times at school: her lessons, her masters, her friends—Miss Vance, who had returned to Cornwall to live with her parents; Miss Hamilton, who had married a Mr Smith and gone to live a life of gaiety in London; and Miss Donner, who had married a country squire.

  At last we reached the village. I made my bow and left the ladies, returning home to lunch.

  Tuesday 22 July

  I set out early and arrived at Harville’s this afternoon. Harville greeted me warmly, and could not wait to introduce me to Harriet.

  I found her to be a taking young thing, without the intelligence of Miss Anne Elliot, perhaps, and without her dark eyes, but pretty all the same. She seemed to be a degree or two less polished than Harville, but she was evidently very much in love with him, and I was glad to wish him all the happiness the occasion demanded.

  I had little chance to talk to him of anything else, for when we returned to his lodgings, he would do nothing but sing Harriet’s praises. In vain did I try to talk to him about our adventures, past and future, for after answering a question sensibly, he would then sigh, and say that Harriet had the prettiest eyes or the tiniest feet or the tenderest heart, and I spoke about battles in vain. I laughed at him for it, but he only bade me wait until I was in love, whereupon I remarked that if love made such fools of men, I would sooner not succumb. He smiled, and said he pitied me, and then said that Harriet’s smile was brighter than the sun.

  ‘You have missed your vocation. You should have been a poet,’ I told him.

  ‘Perhaps I will become one yet!’ he said. ‘I am sure poets have an easier time of it than sailors.’

  ‘Though the pay is even worse,’ I said.

  He laughed, and said that, on consideration, he would remain with the Navy.

  I tried to go to bed three times, but he would not stop talking, and it was late before I returned to my chamber. I fear I will have little rational conversation over the next few days!

  Wednesday 23 July

  Harville took great delight in seeing me with his friends and family, and I took no less delight in their company. I had not seen them for three years, and, with regard to his sister Fanny, it was longer, for she was at school the last time I visited. Her appearance was a surprise, for she was no longer a child but a young woman, and a very superior young woman at that. Her mind was cultivated and her wits quick. Her face and figure were such that I knew she would soon have many admirers, and I said as much to Harville.

  He seemed much pleased, and to begin with I took it as nothing more than brotherly pride, but as the day wore on, I began to think it might have something more at its root, for when we went out for a stroll, Harville and his family gradually fell behind until I was walking ahead with Fanny alone.

  Again, when we returned to the house, there were occasions when we found ourselves sitting alone, on account of the others moving to the far end of the room. In short, they were giving us an opportunity to get to know each other, and the reason was not difficult to find. Harville and I being great friends, and Fanny being seventeen, it was in their minds that we might, one day, marry. But, despite her superior mind and her undoubted beauty, she awakened nothing more in me than brotherly sensations, and I am persuaded that I awakened nothing more than sisterly feelings in her. Harville was sensible enough to see it, and, as we took a turn out of doors together after dinner, he soon gave up hinting at anything between us and returned to his favourite topic of conversation, Harriet.

  I let him talk, and I did not begrudge him his happiness, for we have always been the best of friends, but I am glad the visit will be over tomorrow. A man so newly engaged is not good company for anyone except the object of his affections!

  Thursday 24 July

  I spent the morning with Harville, Harriet and Fanny, and the three of us walked out into the country together. The sun was hot, and the ladies twirled their parasols over their
heads as they went along. Harville and I teased them, saying that we had had no such shelter as we toiled under the strong sun of the Bahamas. We regaled them with tales of our water running low on board ship, saying that we often had to sail with parched throats, and by the time we returned to the house, we were all ready for a cooling drink.

  I set out for Monkford late in the afternoon, leaving Harville and Harriet making plans for their wedding breakfast. The ride was enjoyable to begin with, as my way took me through varied countryside, but it was marred by a sudden downpour when I was three miles out of Monkford and I was glad to get indoors.

  Edward was curious to know about Harville’s chosen bride, and I satisfied him as to her character and habits as soon as I had changed out of my wet clothes.

  When I had done, he remarked that, in my absence, we had been invited to a picnic, and that he had accepted on both our behalfs.

  Saturday 26 July

  I am getting to know the neighbouring countryside very well, and already I feel quite at home here. I had my ride this morning before breakfast, as usual, and, later on, I paid some morning calls. After lunch I went into town for a new hat. I had a faint hope that I might see Miss Anne Elliot. I have seen little of her recently, for she has not attended any gatherings at which Edward and I have been present—they have not been smart enough for the Elliots—but I did not have the good fortune to come across her.

  Tuesday 29 July

  I saw Miss Anne this evening and I was surprised to discover how much I had missed her company.

  I was about to ask her if I could escort her in to dinner when, unluckily, my hostess asked me to escort Miss Barnstaple instead. I bowed, and declared myself delighted, but although Miss Barnstaple was an engaging companion, my eyes were constantly drawn to Miss Anne.

  She was seated next to a young man who looked to be a perfect fool, the sort who would not know a mast from a yard-arm. I thought she looked bored, but to my surprise, Miss Barnstaple said, ‘Anne seems to be finding her partner amusing. He is much liked by the ladies, not surprisingly, for he is very handsome.’

  I was not struck by his looks myself, for they seemed too soft to me, and his conversation, snatches of which reached me in quiet moments, did not seem to be anything very remarkable. But I could not say so, for Miss Barnstaple might have construed my remarks—quite wrongly—as jealousy.

  I could not help my eyes being drawn to his group from time to time, though, and I was gratified to find that Miss Anne’s gaze sought me out on more than one occasion. This small circumstance raised my spirits and allowed me to flatter myself that she would rather be talking to me.

  As soon as supper was over, dancing was announced, and I went over to her and asked for the pleasure. She smiled, declared herself delighted, and put her hand in mine. I felt a sense of pride as I led her towards the set that was then forming. It was small, for the room only had space enough for five couples, but I was glad of the opportunity it gave me to talk to her.

  ‘I have not seen you for . . .’ I was going to give an exact number of days, when I thought it might seem too particular, so I said, ‘. . . a while. Have you been mistaken for Napoleon again in the meantime?’

  ‘No, not recently,’ she said, as the music began. ‘Miss Scott has seen very little of the newspapers, and has grown calmer as a consequence, so that she is able to think of other things. Only yesterday she told me she had planted three new shrubs in the garden.’

  ‘Then you have escaped being attacked with the poker.’

  ‘For the time being, until the next newspaper arrives,’ she said. The dance parted us, but when it brought us back together again, she went on, ‘You have been away, visiting a friend, I understand?’

  I was pleased to know that she had noticed my absence, and I began to tell her about Harville. As I related his plans, for the first time it did not seem so strange to me that he had chosen to shackle himself at an early age, and I supposed the change in my opinion must mean I was getting used to the idea; either that, or, having met his Harriet, I thought they would be happy together.

  When I had finished telling her about Harville, I asked her casually, ‘Who was the young man you were sitting next to at dinner? I do not believe I know him.’

  ‘That was Mr Charles Musgrove,’ she said.

  ‘And is he a particular friend of yours?’ I could not help asking.

  ‘His family and mine are closely acquainted. The Musgroves live at the Great House at Uppercross.’

  ‘Ah, a family friend,’ I said, relieved. ‘I remember his parents,’ I continued, feeling suddenly in charity with young Mr Musgrove, and inclined to be expansive. ‘I overheard them once, talking about another son of theirs, Dick. Do they have any other children?’

  ‘Yes, they do, but they are all younger than Charles, and still in the schoolroom.’

  As we talked, I noticed a well-dressed woman at the far side of the room, who was watching me with unfriendly eyes. I was surprised, and turned away, but I was conscious of her eyes on me for the rest of the dance.

  When it was over, I reluctantly relinquished Miss Anne’s hand and returning to my brother, asked him, ‘Who is that lady?’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The one over there, on the other side of the room, well dressed, in an amber silk. Do you see her? She has been watching me as a captain watches an unpromising midshipman, and I am sure I cannot think why. It is impossible for me to have offended her in any way, for I do not know her, indeed I have never spoken to her in my life.’

  His eyes turned towards her, and he said, ‘That is Lady Russell.’

  ‘The widow who was destined by her friends to marry Sir Walter Elliot, after his wife died?’ I asked.

  My brother nodded.

  I was thoughtful, but still could not think why she had been watching me with hostility.

  ‘I could understand her looking at me like that if I was Miss Cordingale or some other young beauty, and was intent on stealing Sir Walter away from her,’ I said, ‘but as that is not the case, I cannot think what she is about.’

  ‘Can you not? Then I will tell you. She is an old friend of the Elliot family, indeed, she was Lady Elliot’s best friend, and she is Miss Anne’s godmother. She has taken an interest in the Elliot girls for the last five years, since Lady Elliot’s untimely death, and she is especially fond of Anne, who favours Lady Elliot in both appearance and character. She is concerned that you are paying her too much attention.’

  ‘Ah, I see, she is worried that my intentions are not honourable,’ I said, understanding the dark looks she had been casting in my direction.

  ‘Quite the contrary, she is worried that your attentions are honourable. She wants something better than a commander for her god-daughter.’

  I was affronted, but quickly came about.

  ‘She need have no fear. I do not have marriage in mind,’ I remarked, although, as I said it, I thought there would be worse fates than to marry Miss Anne Elliot.

  ‘Then I would advise you to be more circumspect. You are singling Miss Anne out for your attentions, and it will soon be noticed by other eyes than mine. You must not make her the subject of gossip, Frederick.’

  ‘I have scarcely seen her this last fortnight,’ I protested.

  ‘But you are making up for it this evening.’

  ‘I have danced with her only once, and I sat next to Miss Barnstaple at supper.’

  ‘But you did not look at Miss Barnstaple as you look at Miss Anne, with such absorption. No, do not bite my head off,’ he said, as I began to protest, ‘all I am saying is that you should take care. You are not on the high seas now, but in a country village, and you must be careful of her reputation.’

  ‘I will avoid her for a week, if that is what you wish,’ I said jovially.