‘Not at all. You may rely upon the Navy, and you may rely upon me.’
She returned to the counter and told the assistant happily that she did not require a bolster after all. I was just about to step up to the counter when the door opened and, to my delight, Anne entered, accompanied by Miss Shepherd.
Before I could speak, Miss Scott, on her way out of the shop, greeted her with the words, ‘Miss Elliot, you may rest easy, as we are not about to be murdered in our beds. Commander Wentworth is on a secret mission in this neighbourhood. He did not hesitate to confide in me, for he knows I am not one to gossip and that I would never breathe a word to a living soul, and so he assured me that he will inform me as soon as Napoleon invades. You must not say anything about it, however, for it is not generally known, and if he had not had complete faith in my discretion, he would not have told even me. I must enjoin you to secrecy, and I hope I may have your word not to mention it to anyone.’
‘You may rest assured I will tell no one,’ said Anne.
Miss Scott left the shop, and as Miss Shepherd approached the counter in search of some thread, I was able to speak to Anne alone.
We fell into conversation instantly, and I was heartened to hear that Anne had intended to join me yesterday, despite the weather being wet, but her sister had not been well, and had claimed her attention, making it impossible for her to stir out of doors. She had been prevented from walking by the river for the same reason this morning, but her sister’s health having improved a little since then, she had been glad to take the opportunity of a walk.
We could not talk of our engagement for fear of being overheard, but we were able to talk of our future in a more discreet form. I talked of the fortune I would win, and asked Anne her opinion of what sort of estate I should buy, whether in the country or by the sea. She advised me to buy one with a stretch of coastline and a sandy cove so that I could walk by the sea every morning.
‘A good idea,’ I said. ‘I like the water. I always value my walks by the river here.’
She blushed, and looked prettier than ever, and I counted myself the luckiest man alive. I imagined the two of us walking together on the beach of our future home, with our children playing around us. I would be Admiral Wentworth, and she my wife.
Miss Shepherd finished choosing her thread, and Anne and I had to part, but I consoled myself with the fact that Sir Walter would be returning in a few days and that I could then ask him for her hand.
I longed for a ball this evening, somewhere where I could dance with Anne, but I was engaged to play whist with my brother. I could not concentrate, but this, however, made me very popular, as it meant that I lost every game.
Wednesday 3 September
Anne and I had the luxury of an evening spent together at Mrs Grayshott’s, where we were able to dance together. It was a joy to be able to touch her, and to spend much of the evening in conversation with her, and although I was tempted to overstep the boundaries of decorum by asking her to dance a third time, I managed to restrain myself, knowing that Sir Walter would soon be returning, and that then I would be able to dance every dance with Anne.
Friday 5 September
I went, as usual, to the river this morning, and I was rewarded by seeing Anne coming towards me. We strolled through the fields, her arm in mine, and I asked her when her father was likely to return.
‘He will arrive in time for dinner,’ she said.
‘Then I will present myself tomorrow morning, though I resent every minute that keeps me from acknowledging you as my future wife. Little did I think, when I came into Somerset, that I would find such happiness.’
‘Nor I. Your visit was spoken of, and I was curious to see you, but I did not expect a friendship to develop, let alone anything more. I thought you would be a rough-mannered and impatient man, a sailor who thought of nothing but battles and the sea. I did not expect you to be someone I could fall in love with.’
We walked on. I spoke of my impatience for her father’s return, and I asked her if she had told Lady Russell of our engagement.
‘No, not yet. I felt my father should know of it first. But as soon as he has given his consent, I will tell her.’
A shadow crossed her face.
‘Do you doubt that he will give it?’ I asked her.
‘My father can be ...’ She paused. ‘He is very proud of his heritage—our heritage. You do not know him very well—yet— but his favourite book is the Baronetage. He often takes it up to read it. He likes to read about the first baronet, and to remind himself that he comes from an illustrious line.’
‘And you? Are you proud of your heritage?’ I asked her.
‘Proud of it, yes, but not blinded to the worth of everything beyond it. There are other things in life beyond the baronetcy, and other men of value beyond those listed there.’
‘But you do not doubt he will give his consent?’
She hesitated, then said, ‘No. No, I am sure he will give it. He might make matters uncomfortable for you, however.’
I laughed at the notion, for if I could withstand the might of the French Navy, I was sure I could withstand a cold look from Sir Walter. But I laughed inwardly, for I had no wish to wound Anne’s feelings.
My brother was not so sanguine as I joined him for luncheon a few hours later.
‘And have you thought that Sir Walter might say no?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’
‘Because that will probably be his answer.’
‘It is a good thing my heart is not as faint as yours, for I am certain he will say yes,’ I returned.
‘You have no title, no fortune, no estate, nothing to offer his daughter beyond your youth and person.’
‘So you said last week.’
‘I am saying it again. It is as well to be prepared for whatever he might say.’
‘There is something in that. But no, I will not think of it. He will give his consent, and Anne and I will be married. I am sure of it.’
Saturday 6 September
I could eat very little, and this morning I set off for Kellynch Hall. I was far too early, but I could wait no longer. I paced the lane until my watch told me I could proceed. I went up to the door. I asked to see Sir Walter. I was made to wait. I paced the hall. I was shown in. And there was Sir Walter, magnificently attired, with his hair arranged in the latest style, reading the Baronetage.
To begin with, he ignored me, as though he could not tear his eyes away from the book.
‘Sir Walter,’ I began.
He looked up slowly, but did not close the book.
It was not a propitious start.
‘You wished to see me?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I did. I do. On a matter of importance. I would like your permission to marry your daughter, Anne.’
‘Marry Anne?’ he asked, in a tone of disbelief. ‘You have not yet asked me if you might pay her your addresses. It is far too soon to be speaking of anything else.’
I was nonplussed, but came about.
‘My affections have developed swiftly—’
‘They have indeed. You have only been in Somerset a few months.’
‘But that is long enough for me to know that I am in love with Anne. Although they have developed swiftly—’
‘And will disappear as swiftly, no doubt,’ he interrupted.
‘That they will not,’ I said. ‘I know my own mind. I am in love with Anne, and I wish to make her my wife. She wishes it, too.’
He looked at me with haughty dislike.
‘You have spoken to her already?’
‘Yes, I have.’