Captain Wentworth's Diary Read online

  ‘Something similar would suit me when I have made my fortune,’ I said.

  ‘I do not doubt it, but you have to make your fortune first,’ he returned.

  As we drew closer, I thought of Kellynch, not as a house, but as Miss Anne’s home. For her, every tree and every blade of grass was familiar, every brick and every stone. As I lifted my eyes to the attic, I thought of her as a child, looking out of the barred windows of the nursery on to the green lawns. I thought of her growing up there with a loving mother, and then losing her mother and going away to school, and then returning to the countryside she loved, the restful greens and browns of the park, with the blue sky above. I imagined her playing the piano in the drawing-room and looking out of the windows on to the same verdant expanse, or walking there through the changing seasons as the leaves turned from light green to dark green, and thence to orange and gold.

  The drive was long, but at last we reached the house. We were admitted by a stately footman in splendid livery, and then shown into the drawing-room. It was large and well proportioned, with fine furniture and new curtains and rugs. Everything was of the first quality, and showed the refined tastes of Sir Walter and Miss Elliot. But there was something missing, for all its grandeur, and that thing was warmth.

  Sir Walter and his eldest daughter turned superior glances on me, and Lady Russell looked at me as though I was a snake: something that would be safe if kept at a distance, but which could be poisonous if brought too close.

  But a moment later I forgot Sir Walter, Miss Elliot and Lady Russell, as my eyes fell on Miss Anne. She smiled as she saw me, and the smile lit her face with a joy so bright it filled the room. She radiated happiness and good will. She came forward to greet me, and the two of us were immediately lost in conversation, only being recalled to our company when Lady Russell stepped forward to greet my brother and myself. Sir Walter and Miss Elliot did their duty and greeted us, too. Then Lady Russell began speaking to me, in an effort, I am sure, to separate me from Miss Anne.

  ‘We have been fortunate to have you with us in Somersetshire for so long,’ she said, in a way that made me feel she did not think it was fortunate at all. ‘You have more than one connection to the area, I believe? Your brother lives here,’ she said, glancing at him, ‘and I believe your brother-in-law is from the county as well?’

  ‘Yes, that is so.’

  ‘You have only the one sister?’ Sir Walter asked me, deigning to join in the conversation.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She has been married long?’ he continued.

  ‘For seven years.’

  ‘Quite some time. And what kind of man is her husband?’

  ‘He is captain of a frigate.’

  ‘Ah, a sailor,’ said Sir Walter, with an expression of distaste.

  ‘A naval officer, and a good one,’ I returned. ‘He has served his country for many years and has helped to keep our shores safe.’

  ‘Is he at sea now?’ asked Miss Anne, with genuine interest.

  I softened at the sound of her voice.

  ‘He is.’

  ‘Your sister must miss him,’ she said. ‘It cannot be pleasant for a woman to be separated from the man she loves.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ I said, regarding her tenderly, for I felt her words were for me. ‘Nor for a man to be separated from the object of his affections.’

  My brother cleared his throat noisily, then said in a jovial tone, ‘Fortunately neither of them has to endure the pangs of separation, as my sister sails with her husband.’

  ‘But how is that possible?’ asked Miss Anne in surprise, turning towards him. ‘I cannot imagine how she would survive, with only ship’s biscuits to eat, and a hammock to sleep in. She must be very brave.’

  I laughed at her idea of life on board ship.

  ‘You may rest easy. She has a cabin to sleep in, and all the comforts any woman could want. She has good food to eat, and a servant to wait on her—’

  ‘A servant?’ she asked. ‘Surely such a thing is not possible?’

  ‘Of course it is. Naval officers are gentlemen’—here Sir Walter and Miss Elliot exchanged expressions of disbelief, but I ignored them—‘and they are used to living well. They expect no less when they are at sea.’

  ‘I am surprised there is room for a servant, for there are so many other calls on the space, but living on board must not be as cramped as I had imagined.’

  ‘On a frigate there is not very much space, I grant you, but my brother-in-law will not rest easy until he is in command of a man-of-war, and he will end up an admiral, I have no doubt. On a man-of-war, you know, there could not be better accommodations, or anything more spacious—’

  ‘—unless it is a fine house on land,’ said Lady Russell, entering the conversation with the air of one who has remained silent long enough. “That has far better accommodation than a ship, for it has spacious rooms, large gardens and ample servants’ quarters, everything to make life convenient and easy.’

  ‘But a house has not such views,’ I said.

  ‘The prospects at Kellynch Hall are very fine,’ said Sir Walter, not to be outdone.

  ‘But they cannot compete with the ever-changing views at sea, or the splendours of Lisbon, Gibraltar or the Indies,’ I returned.

  ‘As to that, these foreign places are overrated. They are nothing compared to London or Bath,’ said Sir Walter.

  I saw Anne’s expression change, and I asked, ‘You do not like Bath?’

  ‘No, I must confess I do not.’

  ‘Only a fool would not like Bath,’ said Miss Elliot.

  Anne flushed, but I encouraged her to speak, saying, ‘But it is an interesting place, is it not?’

  ‘Perhaps. But I did not like it. I found it hard and glaring, unlike the countryside, with its colourful softness.’

  She evidently did not want to talk of it, so I turned the conversation back to the sights to be seen from a ship, and Anne listened with rapt attention. My eyes were on her, so that I scarcely noticed Lady Russell, Sir Walter and Miss Elliot watching us disapprovingly, until my brother caught my eye.

  I allowed him to turn the conversation to books. Here again, Miss Anne joined me in feeling, as we discovered new evidence that our tastes coincided in all important matters, and, once more, we could not stop talking. It was only, indeed, dinner that put an end to our conversation.

  Over dinner Miss Anne and I continued to talk of books, whilst Sir Walter recited his lineage to my brother, listing every one of his ancestors and remarking on the high standing of a baronet, whilst Miss Elliot talked determinedly of Mr William Walter Elliot, and their expectation of seeing him at Kellynch before the summer was over.

  Lady Russell said little, but whenever I looked up, I found her eyes upon me.

  Dinner at last came to an end. I wanted to dance, and I suggested it, but the idea was dismissed and I had to content myself with looking at Miss Anne, instead of touching her. At last her attention was distracted by her father, and Lady Russell took me aside.

  ‘You are very taken with Anne,’ she said.

  ‘I am indeed,’ I said, as my eyes lingered on her.

  ‘She is a very young girl, only nineteen, and as yet she has seen very little of the world . . .’

  ‘Which is a great pity, for the world is a wonderful place,’ I returned, ‘and she deserves to see it. Her father and sister go to London each spring, I understand, but they do not see fit to take her. She ought to see it, and to have her share of the enjoyment. The museums, the theatres and the shops are all worth seeing. I have told her that she must demand to be taken to London when her father and sister next go.’

  ‘I do not think it a good idea for her to make demands, and I beg you will not encourage her. It does not sit well with her character, for it is not in Anne’s nature to be strident,’ she returned, looking at me with an unfavourable eye.

  However, I did not mean to let her browbeat me.

  ‘Then, if she is not to make dema
nds, someone must make them on her behalf,’ I said, looking at Lady Russell pointedly, ‘or else she will still have seen very little of the world when she is five-and-twenty.’

  Lady Russell did not like my reply, and I could tell that she was less than ever my friend.

  She rallied herself, however, and, with the appearance of one coming to the point, she said, ‘You are a man of the world, Commander, and so I will speak plainly, in the certainty that you will not misunderstand me. Anne is very young and inexperienced, and is easily swayed by those around her. I do not wish to see anyone taking advantage of her youth or inexperience. In time, she will meet a man of her own standing who can give her all the advantages she is used to, and more besides. I am sure you do not mean to harm her by yours attentions—’

  ‘You may rest assured, Lady Russell, that I would never do anything to harm her,’ I said sincerely.

  ‘Ahhh,’ she said, nodding. ‘Then you relieve me of a great burden. I am glad we are of one mind in this matter, I felt it must be so. A man of your experience could not think otherwise. And now, we need say no more about it. You will be returning to sea soon, I believe?’

  ‘Yes, as soon as a ship is available.’

  ‘And you are looking forward to it?’

  ‘I am eager for it,’ I said, ‘for then I can set about making my fortune. I mean to leave the Navy a wealthy man.’

  ‘I wish you success in your ventures,’ she said. ‘You are young and strong, you have ambition, and I hope you may achieve your heart’s desires. We are fortunate to have such a man protecting our shores.’

  She gave a slight nod and then moved away. To begin with, I was pleased with our conversation, for I felt it had gone well, but as I thought back over it, I was left with the unsettling feeling that we had, perhaps, been at cross purposes. There had been something ambiguous in her speeches, and, although mine had been straightforward, I nevertheless felt she might have misconstrued them.

  But then Miss Anne approached, and Lady Russell was forgotten. We did not mean to ignore the others, but our minds were so well attuned that we scarcely noticed them until it was time for me to leave.

  I bade Miss Anne farewell, reluctantly, and took my leave of Sir Walter, Miss Elliot and Lady Russell, then Edward and I left Kellynch Hall.

  He was quiet on the walk, but once indoors he said, ‘Frederick, I must speak to you once again about your attentions to Miss Anne. You scarcely said a word to anyone else all evening. Your attentions are far too particular. It would be better if you left Monkford and visited some of your friends for the next few weeks.’

  ‘I would like to oblige you, Edward, but it is beyond me,’ I confessed. ‘I cannot give her up.’

  ‘What kind of talk is this? A man who has taken French ships cannot do without the company of a nineteen-year-old girl? You have simply to take yourself off and the thing is done.’

  ‘You do not understand me. Not only can I not give her up, I will not give her up,’ I said, acknowledging the feelings that had been growing in me ever since meeting her. ‘I never thought I would meet a woman like her: her mind so superior, her taste so refined, her heart so open; her hair so soft, her eyes so bright, her skin so smooth, her countenance so beloved; her voice, her smile . . . In short, Edward, I am in love with her.’

  He looked at me in concern.

  ‘You have paid attention to many young women in your time, but I have never heard you say that you were in love before. It is serious, then?’

  ‘It is. I cannot live without her, and I mean to ask her to marry me.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I cannot like it. You have nothing to offer her.’

  ‘I have my prize money.’

  ‘You have spent it.’

  ‘I will make more.’

  ‘Do you never see a problem?’

  ‘Never one I cannot solve.’

  He sat down heavily.

  ‘I cannot encourage you in this, Frederick. You will not have the blessing of her family, or Lady Russell. They want to see her marry a man of wealth and rank, and with good reason. Her entire future depends upon her choice.’

  ‘You do no think I am a good match?’ I asked him, surprised and a little wounded.

  His answer was matter-of-fact.

  ‘You have a long way to go in the world before you are a good match for a baronet’s daughter. You will encounter a great deal of opposition if you go ahead with your plan. They will not give her to you willingly, and they may not give her to you at all.’

  ‘Opposition is there to be swept aside.’

  ‘We are not talking of the French Navy now. You cannot sail up the drive in a frigate, nor can you de-mast Kellynch Hall. Sir Walter will not be afraid of you, nor will he surrender. If he is set against you, he will withhold his consent.’

  ‘Then I will marry her without it.’

  ‘And would Miss Anne consent to such a marriage?’

  I hesitated.

  ‘You see, you do not only have yourself to think of.’

  ‘You take too dim a view of things,’ I told him, rallying. ‘Sir Walter has not yet withheld his consent, and until he does, I see no use thinking about it.’

  ‘And are you sure Miss Anne will have you, even with it?’ he asked.

  ’I ...’

  I stopped. I had been about to say, I am sure of it. She loves me, but what if I was wrong? For the first time in my life I was hesitant, and I did not like the feeling. But I could not rid myself of the thought. What if she did not love me? I could not bear to think about it.

  ‘I think she loves me, and tomorrow I will know for sure,’ I said.

  ‘Tomorrow? Do you really think you will have an opportunity to speak to her so soon?’

  ‘A man of action makes his own opportunities, he does not wait for them to come calling,’ I said.

  I thought of her early morning walks by the river, and I made up my mind to meet her there, and ask her to be my wife.

  Saturday 30 August

  I had a terrible night, even worse than the restless sleep before a battle, for I was kept awake by a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

  I rose at half past five, for I could toss and turn in bed no longer, and then I dressed carefully. Eschewing breakfast, I lifted the latch and went quietly outside. I turned my steps towards the river. As I did so, my spirits rose. The morning was one of soft air and a warm sun on the rise. The world was aglow with blue and green, and sparkling with the dew that clung to the grass. It was a perfect morning for a proposal—if Anne said yes.

  Unused to feeling such uncertainty, I quickly banished it. I walked by the river and then stopped to skim stones, until I caught sight of a kingfisher. I paused to watch its turquoise plumage flash past, iridescent in the early-morning light, and I saw it dive into the water. I took it as a good omen: a halcyon bird had come upon me, giving me notice that my own halcyon days were about to begin. I saw the warm, calm summer stretching ahead of me, with Anne by my side, and I was joyful.

  I walked on, and at last I was rewarded by the sight of her. It was still early, no more than half past six, and I was elated to think that she, too, had not been able to sleep. She saw me; hesitated; and then came on.