‘Then it is time you became used to it. You may start with me. Give me a command, and I will obey it. You will soon learn how easy it is.’
She smiled, but only shook her head and said nothing.
‘I am waiting,’ I told her playfully.
‘I cannot think of anything,’ she said.
We were nearing the picnic spot, where the food was already laid out. Our fellow picnickers were gathered together, sitting on rugs beneath a shady tree, and waiting only for our arrival so that the picnic could begin. Sir Walter and Miss Elliot were sharing a rug with Lady Russell, Mr and Miss Shepherd. Miss Scott was on a second rug with Mr and Mrs Oldham, whose three young children were playing nearby, and two further rugs were vacant.
I led Miss Anne to a vacant rug, where we were joined by the Laynes, whilst the Pooles went to sit with the Oldhams. There were the usual pleasantries as the rest of our party asked us how we had liked our walk, and what we thought of the view, then the gentlemen began to serve the ladies, giving me the perfect opportunity to continue with my theme.
‘Miss Anne, what would you command me to bring you?’
She smiled, and said, ‘A little chicken, if you please.’
‘Are you sure you would not rather have the artichoke pie? It looks very good.’
She hesitated, then caught my eye and said, ‘No, thank you. A little chicken.’
‘Or perhaps the lobster? There is nothing better than lobster on a hot day, it is very refreshing. Let me tempt you, Miss Anne.’
‘Thank you, no, I will have some of the chicken.’
‘The cold beef looks very good—’
‘Commander Wentworth, bring me some chicken,’ she said severely.
‘There,’ I said with a laugh, ‘that was not so difficult, now, was it?’
‘With you, perhaps not,’ she said.
‘You need only a little more practice, and you will not find it difficult with anyone. You have only to speak boldly, and not stop until you have carried your point. If you apply yourself to my teachings, you will visit London, with all its many attractions, the next time your father and sister go there!’
I saw Lady Russell’s mouth harden as she watched us, and I knew that she was displeased to see how much time I was spending with Miss Anne, and how much Miss Anne was blossoming in my company, but I took no notice, for I was far more interested in seeing the colour spring to Miss Anne’s cheeks, and in seeing her eyes glow.
Our conversation being remarked by more than Lady Russell, however, I began to join in with the general talk, praising the food, the fineness of the day, and remarking on the pleasure of eating out of doors with friends.
When we had all eaten our fill, we split into different parties. Miss Scott went into the neighbouring copse to collect wild flowers, the Shepherds took a stroll down the hill, and the rest of the party remained on the rugs beneath the trees, answering riddles in a desultory fashion, as befitted a hot afternoon.
Mr Layne had just posed a riddle when Mr Poole, happening to look in the direction of the copse, said, ‘Hullo! What is this?’
I followed his gaze, and saw Miss Scott running towards us in a state of agitation.
‘The French,’ she cried, as she approached us, waving her arms. ‘Oh, heaven help us, do something, someone! Commander Wentworth! The French are here!’
I was immediately alert and sprang to my feet, taking command of the situation.
‘The French? Where?’ I asked, wondering if a group of spies could have penetrated our defences and even now be roaming the countryside.
‘On the other side of the copse!’ she said, gasping with a shortness of breath.
‘How many?’
‘A whole army of them.’
‘An army?’ I asked incredulously. ‘Come, Miss Scott, how many did you see?’
‘Well, just the one,’ she admitted, ‘but where one is, the rest cannot be far behind. Oh, Commander Wentworth, whatever shall we do?’
‘Show me,’ I said. ‘But go cautiously.’
Flustered, she set off for the copse. I followed, and a trail of picnickers followed me.
‘As soon as I saw him, I knew,’ said Miss Scott, as she led the way through the copse and emerged on the other side.
The trees gave way to open fields and I scanned the area, but saw nothing. My eye alighted on a high hedge with a man leaning over it, eating an apple. I was about to approach him and ask if he had seen anyone, when Miss Scott said, ‘There he is, over there. He is over ten feet tall, just as it says in the newspapers, and a good thing I read them, for otherwise, I would not have known him for what he was.’
‘Oh, Miss Scott ...’ said Anne, with quivering lip, as she came up behind me.
‘Which newspaper have you been reading?’ I asked her, as the ‘Frenchman’ continued to eat his apple, unaware of the alarm he had occasioned.
‘The one my sister sends me, and I am glad she takes the trouble, otherwise I might have approached him unawares and been murdered ten minutes since.’
‘I think such fears might be precipitate,’ I remarked, leading the way to the far side of the hedge.
Miss Scott was astonished to see that, so far from being ten feet tall, he was no more than five feet six inches, and standing on a ladder.
‘Good morning,’ I called up to him.
‘Morning,’ he returned.
‘And a fine morning it is.’
‘Arrrr,’ he agreed.
I engaged him in lengthy conversation, and through his thick country burr I was able to discern that he was just finishing his lunch, prior to returning to his task of trimming the hedge. The rest of my party laughed, and gradually dispersed, and at last even Miss Scott’s fears were soothed.
‘Thought it is a mistake anyone could have made, I am sure,’ she said, as she walked with Miss Anne and myself back to the picnic spot, ‘for he certainly looked to be ten feet tall, and as everyone knows, the French are giants.’
‘Rest assured, they are no taller than the English,’ Miss Anne soothed her.
‘Oh, my dear, you mean well, I am sure, but you have never been to France, so how can you possibly know?’
Miss Anne was dumbfounded by this logic, so I said to Miss Scott, ‘You may rest assured, ma’am, that I have seen many Frenchmen, and I have yet to see one over six feet tall.’
She demurred; she doubted. But at last, saying, ‘Well, if you say so, Commander, then perhaps it is so,’ she relapsed into murmurs of relief.
On reaching the picnic spot, we settled down on our rugs once more.
Miss Elliot took no interest in the riddle game which resumed, professing herself bored. She, together with her father and Lady Russell, had not joined the trail of those eager to see the ‘French’, but had remained aloof. She yawned, and stood up, saying it was time to go home.
It was not difficult to see why she was dissatisfied, for there had been no sight of Mr Elliot, nor anyone unconnected with our party.
The day drew to a close. Disturbed by Miss Scott’s alarms and Miss Elliot’s remarks, the game lost its sparkle, and the Pooles and Shepherds began to speak of departure, too.
At last everything was gathered together, and nothing remained to show what an enjoyable day we had spent there, save a patch of shorter grass where the horses had grazed.
I handed Miss Anne into the carriage. Ignoring my brother’s looks and the looks of Lady Russell, I rode beside her, entertaining her and being entertained by her in equal measure along the way.
We parted at last, when her carriage turned into Kellynch Hall, and I was left to reflect on one of the most enjoyable days I had experienced for a long time.
Saturday 9 August
‘I see you ignored my advice yesterday, and singled out Miss Anne,’ my brother said, when he had completed his parish duties. ‘It is a good thing you are going to Harville’s wedding next week, for at least that should keep you out of harm’s way.’