After the Letter - A Persuasion Variation

Part 5

A Game of Whist

"Miss. Anne, I do not believe you have listened to a word I have said this past ten minutes!"

Mr. Elliot's tone was light, his criticism a gentle one, but still Anne hurried to apologise for her apparent lack of manners. In truth, she had been aching to hear what Lady Russell was saying that had Frederick's countenance so stormy. She had felt his eyes on her during the entire time she and Mr. Elliot had exchanged pleasantries, and when she had tried to shoot him a look of encouragement, a smile, a reminder that he was the one man she would much rather be seated next to, she saw he was deep in conversation with Lady Russell. Or rather, her godmother was deep in conversation with him. Frederick was listening intently and saying little. His eyes were black as tombs, and Anne strained to hear what had dismayed him so, to have some idea how to remedy it.

"Anne!" Mr. Elliot nudged her again, and she turned back to him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Elliot," she said. "You were trying to talk to me, and I was distracted. Please, continue." Her words were the very thing a well-bred lady ought to say in her situation, but they lacked any of the vitality their conversations might have had on previous evenings. Indeed, this was the first time she had spoken to Mr. William Elliot since the dreadful report her dear friend Mrs. Smith had provided of his behaviour concerning her family and, specifically, her. She wondered whether she ought to raise the question with him now, but thought better of it. What could she say that would not sound like gossip spread among servants?

"Your Captain certainly doesn't seem entirely thrilled to be kept away from you this evening." Mr. Elliot's lips curled in amusement. "I'm not sure I've ever seen that fellow smile."

"Have you seen him?" Anne asked. She could remember only one or two occasions when Frederick and Mr. Elliot had been in the same room, and couldn't imagine that they had ever had anything to say to one another.

"On occasion," Mr. Elliot said. "You recall, he was there at Lyme - with your party, I mean. You and your sister, and two other young ladies...I forget their names."

"The Musgroves," Anne supplied. "Henrietta and Louisa. They are Charles' sisters: Mary's sisters-in-law."

"Ah yes. Now they certainly seemed to understand the need for levity at a party. What a pity they are not here tonight."

"They are also both about to be married." Anne watched his face, but saw no emotion whatsoever flicker across it.

"They too? Why, there must be something in the water, Miss. Anne. Quite everybody in your circle is married or about to be, yourself included it seems."

"And you?" Anne could no longer keep her counsel on quite all that she knew about Mr. Elliot. She was eager to know the truth of Mrs. Smith's comments, though she would not doubt her friend's good intentions in sharing what she thought of Mr. Elliot's attentions. "Surely you must think sometimes of marrying again."

There. Her use of "again" had at last provoked a response, albeit an unintentional one. She saw a shadow flicker across Mr. Elliot's face, but a moment later he was in control once more.

"Ah, I see you have heard my history," he said, quietly. "Well, I am not ashamed of it. My poor Catherine has been dead quite these five years. Many assumed - wrongly, I may add - that I married her only for her fortune, and by her untimely death I have gained freedom and inherited her wealth. Anne, I must refute that most sincerely. I loved my wife." He paused. "But, grieved though I was by her passing, and miss her though I might, I must acknowledge that life is lonely without a companion, as I'm sure you can attest."

He lowered his gaze, and had Anne not received warning from Mrs. Smith of the true facts of Mr. Elliot's first marriage, she would undoubtedly have believed his feelings to be true and deep. Was it possible that her friend had been mistaken? And yet that did not absolve him of all crimes, for his attentions to her had been unwarranted and injurious, if both Elizabeth and Frederick's reactions were anything to judge by.

"Why, you are yet young. I'm sure you could find a woman quite worthy of marriage - here in Bath, even."

"Alas, I thought I had." Here Mr. Elliot lifted his gaze and met Anne's eyes for one moment, before he cleared his throat. "But evidently that was not meant to be. No matter! For I have at least gained a cousin and - I hope - a friend. For we are friends, Anne, are we not?"

"Of course," Anne replied, but she waited a moment too long to speak, and felt sure that her voice echoed with falseness. She still wasn't quite sure whether she would trust the friendship of such a man as Mr. William Elliot, but she felt an unspoken understanding that he would be far more beneficial as a friend than an enemy.

Suddenly realising that their conversation had dropped to barely a whisper, and that their faces doubtless conveyed their seriousness, she lifted her eyes, just in time to see Lady Russell smile at her, and lean over to Frederick once more. He was busily slicing his meat with rather more severity than it warranted, but all activity stopped as he listened to Lady Russell's comment. Anne watched his eyebrows draw into a frown, and he offered nothing more than a curt nod in response to Lady Russell's comment.

What are you saying? She tried to telegraph to her godmother, to Frederick, but neither of them looked at her, and she was left to wonder in silence. Mr. Elliot, mercifully, had been distracted by Elizabeth, who was attempting to draw him on his most recent associations amongst Bath society. Anne could quite cheerfully ignore their conversation, and she tried to enjoy her meal, but anxiety first overt Frederick and then her conversation with Mr. Elliott had somewhat diminished her appetite. She settled for moving her food around on her plate, and giving the appearance of enjoyment.

"Why, Anne, dear, you aren't eating?" Lady Russell's voice cut through her reverie. "Are you unwell?"

"No," Anne said, obediently taking a bite. She swallowed, and then leaned closer to Lady Russell. "What were you talking about to Frederick just now?" She asked. Her fiancé had turned to Charles Musgrove, and the latter was regaling him with a story that resulted in a hoot of laughter that to anybody else would sound completely natural. It was only by virtue of attention that Anne noticed the smile didn't reach Frederick's eyes, and the strangely hollow tone to his voice.

"Oh, nothing of consequence," Lady Russell said, with a smile. "I was just commenting about how lovely it is that you and Mr. Elliot seem to have found a kinship with one another."

Anne's face fell.

"Oh, my dear, I merely meant that it was a change for the better, after Mr. Elliot and Sir Walter spent so many years estranged...why, what's the matter?"

"You know there was more to it than that," Anne said, with a swift glance over her shoulder to ensure she wouldn't be overheard. "Not on my part, but on his, and others seemed to expect it for reasons I still don't quite grasp. It was unkind of you to mention it to Frederick on such an occasion -" She stammered. She struggled to stay angry at a woman whose opinion she valued so highly, and who had so generously hosted them that evening, yet she did not wish to sweep the matter under the carpet when she feared what damage Lady Russell's innocent - or not so innocent! - comment may have caused.

"I don't understand why you are upset, Anne," Lady Russell said. "It is quite apparent that Captain Wentworth loves you, and you love him. I was merely making an observation. I doubt he was even listening."