For You Alone (Frederick Wentworth, Captain: Book 2) Read online

  The relief he felt was instant. There was no doubting he was still coming to terms with his brother’s past, but his particular bit of spleen today had nothing to do with anyone’s past but his own. “So, you know.”

  “Yes, he told me before we married. It was almost our undoing.”

  “But you forgave him.”

  “Yes. It was the most despicable thing I’d ever heard of, but he is a changed man. And I love him. A woman who truly loves a man will forgive him a great deal.”

  She knew about Anne. Her expression and tone said as much. “What if you are an exception?”

  “I am not. Most women will choose to love a man when his heart is in it.”

  The statement was inscrutable and applied to many things all at once. Frederick had no idea how to open the subject further or if he even cared to. He said nothing more.

  They came to a bench, nothing more than a low shelf built into the stone wall. He brushed windblown debris from the seat for her. Thanking him, she sat and looked over the desolate garden. He imagined it had been lovely in summer and how the two of them would have spent evenings here. Edward would titivate, pruning and weeding while Catherine talked or, perhaps, read aloud to him. The warmth of summer would make it a sweet place for a couple to be alone and enjoy one another’s company. It was appropriate that growing things were so friendly to lovers.

  “Well, here you are.” Edward had come upon them without a sound.

  Catherine patted the bench, and he joined her. “I came to see that the Captain was feeling well.”

  “And is he?”

  “I am.”

  He held out a letter. “Good. Here is that item from Harville for which you’ve been waiting.” The small packet of paper shook a little in his hand.

  Frederick took it and began to put it in his pocket. Edward would have none of that. “Be off with you, Brother. I feel sure it is good news.” Edward took Catherine’s hand and patted it.

  He took his brother’s permission as an omen. “Excuse me, please.” He could hear Catherine’s voice fade as he walked away.

  He chose to stand at the mouth of the pergola and read.

  —so it falls to me to tell you that Miss Louisa and James are to be married. No one but Elsa saw it coming. She tried to warn me, but I told her she was misreading the situation completely. Always listen to a woman in matters of love. Now that I will listen, she has told me she suspects the girl was exaggerating her condition at times so that she might spend time with him. Don’t blame James. Moreover, I suppose, you cannot blame her either. I counted on his broken heart to be a shield against any sort of affection. They were thrown together in such anxious and intimate circumstances that this is a natural result. Had you only returned—

  So, that had been it! The matters Harville had mentioned were Louisa and James, not concern that he do his duty by the girl. He was never so happy to be wrong.

  By the time he reached the end of the letter, his heart was pounding and his hands shook. He made a mess of refolding it and, instead, jammed it into his coat pocket. Stepping ever more quickly over the small hummocks of dirt, he began to order his departure. There was packing to do and the horse to ready. He must pen a letter to inform Sophia of the felicitous news about Benwick and Louisa’s engagement. In the letter, he would mention that he was tired of the country and had decided to make a visit to Bath. With a little luck, she would offer her dear little brother a place to stay.

  “Frederick! Where are you going?” Edward shouted.

  He realised he was nearly to the door of the house, leaving the two of them staring at him from the garden. “It is time for me to be off! I shall be in Bath on Wednesday,” he shouted, jumping the steps and opening the door in one graceful motion.

  The warmth of the kitchen welcomed him as he entered the house. Its present, cosy atmosphere was the antipodes in comparison to the night he arrived. Such a change could only be attributed to the letter and the wonderful news it bore. He stopped and pulled off his coat by the fireplace. Bell was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, he was starving and ate one or two small jam tarts that beckoned to him from the table. He paced as he ate the first of them. After gulping a slosh of wine, he pulled out the letter and read it again. The words might just as well have been set to music for the joy they brought to his heart. After the second tart, he folded the letter properly and slipped it into his breast pocket.

  He grasped at the hope that Anne retained some feelings towards him; her occasional looks and willingness to help with Louisa were the most obvious clues to that. The blanket he took from Uppercross had been her doing and was a tangible expression of some sort of concern for him. Everything came down to whether or not his boorish behaviour at Uppercross had been enough to kill any regard she might have nursed over their years apart. Were the attentions of James Benwick and the pointed notice of her cousin enough to make her cast off any remaining feelings towards him? He earnestly prayed that if this was the case, his newfound willingness to make amends would renew her feelings for him and sweep away any interest in fresh associations that were part of her new life.

  If all went according to his plans, he would be in Bath soon and would, perhaps, be in Anne’s company in less than a week. He lifted the nearly empty glass.

  “To us, my girl.” He thought of her and downed the wine.

  ~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~

  As he made his way up the stairs, Edward caught up with him. “So, the news is good.”

  “The best possible. Miss Musgrove is engaged.”

  “But I thought—”

  “As did I, but evidently I am not the man that my friend James Benwick is. So, I leave in the morning for Bath.”

  Edward leaned against the wall. “That is wonderful news, but what will you do with George? You can’t really take a small boy with you when trying to curry favour with a woman.” A cough sounded above them. They looked at one another. George stood in the doorway of the bedchamber he and the Captain shared.

  Frederick started up the last few steps. “Come, Mr. Tuggins, we have business to discuss.” He took his travelling bag from the closet. “I am leaving in the morning.”

  The boy smiled and looked about. “What can I put my new clothes in, sir?’ He turned to the Rector. “Can I have a sack, sir? Anything to take my things.”

  Frederick looked at the little boy’s face. There was such trust and faith that he would keep his promise, and now, his one chance to make things right with Anne would dash all the little fellow’s hopes for the future. Was every good thing tainted with some sort of evil?

  Before he could speak, Edward took the boy’s hand and led him to his bed. He sat and looked George in the eye. “The Captain must leave in the morning for Bath. Just now there is no place for you.”

  Frederick could not see George’s face, but the boy’s shoulders sagged.

  “Now, now, Mr. Tuggins, there is much to do here.” Edward looked up and winked at Frederick. “I don’t suppose the Captain has told you what a blockhead he was about mathematics before I taught him algebra and geometry and all he needed to know.” The boy perked up. “It is only thanks to me that my brother can navigate across a pond, much less an ocean. And we will use this opportunity to teach you.”

  George turned and looked at the Captain and then back at the Rector.

  While Edward spoke to George, Frederick packed his satchel. “I have two books with very fine maps that I have used to keep track of my brother’s travels, and you can study them so that, when he has a ship, you will have a very good working knowledge of the world’s geography. No ignorant blockhead will you be!”

  George turned again. His expression was still grave. “Why are you going to Bath?”

  The question was impertinent and Frederick bristled, but he was practically abandoning the boy and maybe that deserved a decent explanation. “Remember me telling you about the lady who gave me that blanket?” George nodded. “I have just gotten word that there is a very small chance for me to ma
ke things right with her. If I can, there is another small chance that she will marry me.” The boy was bright; perhaps he would understand the urgency and understand his being left for now.

  George went to the Captain’s bed and picked up the blanket. He brought it to him. “Make sure to pack this. It will bring you luck...and I think you will need all the luck you can muster on this mission. sir.”

  Edward laughed and said, “Out of the mouths of babes, Frederick.”

  He took the blanket from the boy. “You are quite right, Mr. Tuggins. You are quite right, indeed.”

  ~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~

  Frederick walked around his horse, pulling at various straps and buckles. Everything was ready for his departure, and he was anxious to be away. He would miss the rectory and its occupants, but he knew they both understood. Nothing had been said, but he was certain Catherine had been told at least some of the details and understood the reason for the Captain’s hasty removal. He suspected that any disappointment would soon be replaced with their good wishes. He looked towards the house and saw them approach to see him off.

  Edward extended his hand. “I wish you great success in your endeavour. Considering that Bath is well past its prime, you will have few things to distract you from planning your strategy.”

  “You will remember to have my trunk sent after me. My uniforms are in it, and—”

  “And your sword and instruments and other dunnage; I know. For the third time, I’ll send it on to Gay Street as soon as possible.”

  “Right. Oh, here is something to keep the boy...and a bit to keep my niece or nephew.” He pulled several coins from his purse and offered them to his brother.

  “That is not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is. Take it. If the child is a boy, buy him a book on knots and traps and snares along with a little shovel.”

  “Suppose the child is a girl?”

  Taking Edward’s hand, Frederick put the coins in it. Keeping hold, he said, “Considering how stupid I’ve been the last few weeks, it might not be a bad thing for a young lady to know about traps and snares.” The Captain stared into the Rector’s face. “I want to make sure that my family is well cared for.” When he felt Edward’s fingers take hold of the coins, he released him.

  “Thank you, Frederick. I shall miss you as well. I’ve grown quite used to having you underfoot again.”

  “I’m sure I will return sometime. Perhaps sooner than later.” He paused. “Besides, I have a promise to keep to someone.” He nodded to George.

  “Aye, we’ll take good care of him. You will be more than welcome no matter what the outcome.” Edward sighed and put the coins in his pocket. They stood, silent and awkward.

  “If I am able to put things right, I shall bring Anne to meet Catherine. If I fail—” He’d admitted as much as he could stand. He would not begin a campaign with talk of failure.

  Edward scowled. “You cannot fail. You will succeed.”

  Frederick turned to Catherine. Her eyes were red and her handkerchief at the ready. She kissed him and said, “We expect to hear good things when you write.”

  To Mr. Tuggins, he saluted, then knelt. “Listen to the Rector. He’s right. I was a blockhead, and he taught me quite a lot. When I return, I will teach you more.”

  George stood straight and tall. “Aye, sir,” was all he said.

  Frederick rose and began to mount. His foot was in the stirrup and he was just beginning to hoist himself up when he paused. He headed back to his little farewell committee, removed his gloves, and pulled out his purse. Without looking at the coins he fished out, he took Catherine’s hand and placed them in it. “Don’t let him have this or he’ll give it away. For the love of God, get some good wine in this house!”

  He didn’t look at them until he was at the edge of the road. He then turned and waved. It would go on forever if he let it, so he turned and spurred his horse on to Bath.

  Chapter Seven

  “I am sure I speak for both of us when I say we are delighted to have you quite unexpectedly appear at our door, Frederick,” Sophia remarked as she took a sip of her tea.

  “And for that, I apologise. I would have sworn any number of oaths that, when I wrote, I had told you I was coming to Bath.” Had his sister not shown him the letter, in his own hand, he might still think that she had misread his intentions. But, after the commotion of his arrival and several rounds of playful accusations of forgetfulness on one or the other’s part, the letter was fetched and Sophia proven correct. He had written and conveyed the news of Benwick and Louisa Musgrove’s engagement, ending with his hopes of happiness for the pair. He had, to his credit, taken a scant line to wish the Crofts good health and enjoyment of the delights of Bath. Not a word of his own travels to Bath were written or implied. It was now with embarrassment that he remembered rushing to post the letter so he might get on with packing for the journey.

  “You will, of course, stay with us, Frederick. It is no trouble, but I wonder that you left Edward so suddenly to come here. Bath is not quite the sort of place I imagined you would like to visit.” She refreshed his tea. “I do not imagine you are here to take the waters.”

  The idea of wading into the pools with the ancient or infirm was repulsive. Not wishing to insult his brother-in-law, he made noises that it was not for his health that he came but to see old friends and to take in a little culture in the form of plays and concerts. In truth, he did have one particular friend residing in Bath, and if his luck held, the man would be at home for the winter. “I hear that fireworks are quite the thing here. You know how I like a good rousing display of fireworks,” he said.

  “They are pleasant enough, but fireworks are never so stirring as when they are lighting the taking of an enemy frigate, eh Captain?” The Admiral had been absent upon his arrival but now joined them with a pleased expression as he pumped Frederick’s hand vigorously.

  “It is true, Admiral. In many cases, fireworks can mean a handsome profit is to be made.”

  They all settled in while Sophia explained to the Admiral how surprised she was at her brother’s sudden appearance and, further, that he would stay with them and that he was hoping for some good entertainment while in town.

  “Well, I must tell you that the most entertaining thing I have found to-date is watching the crowds at any of these gatherings. It’s quite a sight to watch the swells puff and prance and try to outdo one another.”

  The Admiral’s expression indicated that he had much more to say on the matter. Wentworth looked forward to their after-dinner chat, which was certain to give him an opportunity to take a survey of the territory. When he asked about mutual acquaintances that were in residence, the pair began a running recitation of who was about, speculations on their fortunes, and hints towards various romances and intrigues. He was about to ask after Patrick McGillvary when Croft mentioned meeting Anne Elliot.

  “...it was on Milsom Street. You know, dear, by that shop with the paintings. More often than not, they display paintings with sails and pennants blowing in opposite directions. I have no idea how you can watch a ship sailing and...”

  “And how is Miss Anne?” Sophia asked her husband. Frederick blessed his sister’s timely curiosity. Turning to him, she said, “Before leaving Kellynch, we offered to take anything that Mrs. Charles Musgrove might wish to send her family. She sent a gigantic letter, and that allowed us to easily re-establish the acquaintance. This is the first time either of us has met with any of the Elliots while we’ve been out and about. Thankfully, from the gossip we’ve gleaned, we will not be moving in the same circles.”

  “And what do we need with the Elliots when we have Sir Archibald Drew and those shabby Brand brothers? Oh, by the bye, while I was walking with Miss Elliot, I saw Captain Brigden. Don’t be surprised if the rumours begin to circulate.” He laughed and winked at his wife.

  “Be nice,” she said.

  “And how is Miss Anne, sir?” Wentworth repeated his sister’s question, hoping to sound som
ewhat disinterested.

  At once Admiral Croft’s expression sobered. He asked for another cup of tea and then said, “To begin, she seemed very well. I told her about your letter and the engagement of James Benwick to that Musgrove girl. She didn’t seem surprised in the least.”

  “I dare say her sister gave her the news in the letter we brought. You did say that Captain Harville wrote to you from Uppercross, did you not?” Frederick nodded and waited to drive the conversation back to his object of interest.

  “Well, that explains it then. Anywise, she listened nicely as she always does. She is terribly polite; is she not, Sophie? Much different than her father.”

  The couple began discussing their various prejudices concerning the Elliots. Wentworth was about to come out of his chair, dash his cup against the mantel, and demand the Admiral tell of the meeting without benefit of the small talk and personal asides. Instead, he took a piece of cake and battered it into a plateful of crumbs.

  “I am curious to hear Miss Anne’s opinion of the match,” Sophia said, rather loudly. Evidently, she had noticed Frederick’s preoccupation. To him, she said, “I find that I usually agree with Miss Anne, when she will venture an opinion, that is. I would like to know her better. I am sure she has some very astute things to say when she feels free to speak her mind.”

  His sister on intimate terms with Anne was a fascinating, though horrible, thing to contemplate. He could only hope, if Fate were kind and such a thing came about, that Anne’s loyalties would lie with him over the enjoyment of entertaining his sister with tales of his past stupidities.

  “That is true, dear. The girl has a good head on her shoulders. Anywise, on the matter of the letter, she seemed to be most concerned about your feelings, Frederick.” He took a drink of his tea and began speaking to his wife about some other fellow he’d seen prior to meeting Anne.

  Concerned for me. This was good. This was a felicitous bit of information he might try, ever so slightly, to exploit when they must eventually meet. While he would take no advantage by pressing hard the role of the jilted lover, he would take his time correcting her if she wished to feel a bit sorry for any perceived disappointment on his part. But this would be only long enough to secure a friendly, open footing between them.