I had a letter from Sophia this morning, but I hardly had time to glance at it before Harville arrived. I put it away as soon as I saw him, for I was glad of his company, and delighted to see that he had brought Harriet with him. Benwick’s spirits lifted a little as he saw them, and talking to them gave his heart some ease. They spoke of Fanny for hours, and then Harville said that Benwick must go and live with them. Benwick protested at first, saying they did not have room, but Harriet added her entreaties to Harville’s, and at last he agreed. It was a relief to me, for I would not like to think of him being by himself at such a time.
Harville and I had a chance for some conversation alone, as Harriet continued to talk to Benwick. He told me he means to look for a bigger house, one that will afford them more room, and spoke of his hopes to find something by the sea. I wished him luck, and he promised to write to me, to give me his direction, as soon as he was settled.
They set out together this afternoon, a sad party, and I watched them go with a heavy heart. They should have been going to arrange Benwick’s wedding, if fate had been kinder. Instead, they were going to share their grief.
It is my only consolation to know that, with such loving people around him, he will be well looked after, though I fear he is wounded too deep for a full recovery. Fanny Harville was a very superior young woman. He is unlikely to meet her equal, and without another such attachment, what will there be to restore him to life?
Monday 15 August
And so, I find myself in London, almost three weeks later than I expected. I met up with Jenson and told him how Benwick had taken the news. We were neither of us in the mood for company or celebration after that, and we had a quiet dinner at Fladong’s before arranging to meet tomorrow.
Tuesday 16 August
I dined with Jenson again this evening, and our talk naturally turned to Benwick.
‘The only mercy is that he might, in a year or two, recover his spirits,’ said Jenson. ‘If he does, he will still be young enough to look about him and find a wife.’
‘It will be hard for Harville if he does,’ I remarked.
‘But harder for Benwick if he does not.’
I agreed, and then we turned our attention, deliberately, to more cheerful things, for we did not want to dwell on something that could not be changed. Even so, our spirits were low for the rest of the evening, and we parted early, arranging, however, to meet again tomorrow.
Wednesday 17 August
When I arrived in London a few days ago, I was not in a mood for the celebrations that were going on in the city, but today I began to take more interest in them. Jenson and I walked out this morning, and the bustle lifted our spirits. Everywhere around us we saw smiling faces. There was a festival air, and an atmosphere of goodwill. After so many years at war, London was celebrating peace in style.
I turned my thoughts away from the past and thought of the future.
I must buy an estate, and find a woman I can respect, and set about making myself a life.
Saturday 20 August
I had a letter from Sophia this morning, and I was able to give it more attention than her last one, which still lay, half read, in my pocket. I was pleased to learn that she and Benjamin had found an estate to rent, and that they were delighted with it. I read all through her description of elegant furnishings, a fine park and splendid vistas ... and then her final line confounded me, for she told me its name, and I learnt that the estate she and Benjamin had fixed on was Kellynch Hall.
The name took me back. It reminded me of the summer of the year six, Sir Walter and Miss Elliot, and Anne ... Anne dancing with me; Anne walking by the river; Anne and I, talking of everything and nothing, lost in each other’s company ... Anne being persuaded to abandon me, and no doubt being married by now, to a baronet or higher, someone with the rank to satisfy her father’s pride and the fortune to satisfy Lady Russell’s avarice.
I am determined not to regret her, for I am sure she does not regret me. I put her behind me long ago, and her fate no longer concerns me. Apart from some natural curiosity, I have no desire to see her again. As the Elliots are to remove to Bath, it is unlikely that I will come across her, and if we do by any chance meet, it will be as strangers.
Her power with me is gone.
SEPTEMBER
Thursday 29 September
Today was the day fixed upon for my sister to move into Kellynch Hall, and though I was still busy dealing with the affairs that had occupied me for the last few weeks, I spared a thought for her and Benjamin.
OCTOBER
Monday 3 October
I had a letter from Sophia this morning, telling me that she and Benjamin had settled into their new home, and inviting me to stay. I wrote back to accept her invitation, telling her I would be with her next week.
Saturday 8 October
I had a good journey into Somersetshire, but as I drew near the neighbourhood of Uppercross I could not prevent memories from intruding. The last time I was in this town I was buying a new pair of gloves for a ball, I thought ... the last time I passed that tree, I was going on a picnic ... the last time I saw that road, I was full of bitterness and grief ... and then I saw Kellynch Hall, and I remembered when Edward and I had been invited to dinner, and I had spent the whole evening talking to Anne.
And then the carriage was pulling up in front of the door, and I was being shown in, and there was no more time for memories. Sophia rose to greet me. She was brown from all her travels, and was looking very well. She was pleased with her new home, for the house, the grounds and the gardens were all to her liking.
Benjamin and I greeted each other warmly, and tea was brought in.
‘You should find somewhere soon yourself, Frederick,’ said Benjamin. ‘And when you do, make sure you get a good man of business to handle everything for you. We were lucky in Mr Shepherd, for he was competent, and the details were concluded with all expediency. Did you meet him when you were last here?’
‘I believe I may have done,’ I said, unwilling to talk of that time.
‘He seems to take care of Sir Walter,’ Benjamin went on, with a smile and a shake of his head. ‘Just as well, for the man seems to need someone to take care of him.’
‘Hush, Benjamin!’ said my sister, as the tea was brought in. ‘You will give Frederick the wrong impression. Sir Walter is an elegant man of great refinement.’
‘But very little common sense. Wanted to live the life of the first man in the neighbourhood, but did not have the wherewithal to do it, and so he mortgaged his lands, with the result that he incurred debts, and eventually had to rent out his home.’
‘Better than carrying on in the same manner and ruining himself, or refusing to pay his debts and ruining those to whom he was indebted,’ said Sophia. ‘I dare say he will soon come about. He can live much more cheaply in Bath than here, and the income he gains from letting the house will help him to clear his encumbrances.’
I felt a perverse satisfaction in knowing that our fortunes had been reversed, and that the man who had looked down on me as a suitor was now a poor man, whilst I was rich.
‘Miss Elliot is a very handsome woman,’ said Sophia. ‘I was surprised she was not married.’
I felt a jolt. Was she speaking of Miss Elizabeth Elliot, or had Elizabeth married, in which case Anne would be Miss Elliot ... but no, Anne would have married, of course. Perhaps the youngest daughter, Mary, was now Miss Elliot. However, I wanted to be sure.