But then Miss Anne approached, and Lady Russell was forgotten. We did not mean to ignore the others, but our minds were so well attuned that we scarcely noticed them until it was time for me to leave.

I bade Miss Anne farewell, reluctantly, and took my leave of Sir Walter, Miss Elliot and Lady Russell, then Edward and I left Kellynch Hall.

He was quiet on the walk, but once indoors he said, ‘Frederick, I must speak to you once again about your attentions to Miss Anne. You scarcely said a word to anyone else all evening. Your attentions are far too particular. It would be better if you left Monkford and visited some of your friends for the next few weeks.’

‘I would like to oblige you, Edward, but it is beyond me,’ I confessed. ‘I cannot give her up.’

‘What kind of talk is this? A man who has taken French ships cannot do without the company of a nineteen-year-old girl? You have simply to take yourself off and the thing is done.’

‘You do not understand me. Not only can I not give her up, I will not give her up,’ I said, acknowledging the feelings that had been growing in me ever since meeting her. ‘I never thought I would meet a woman like her: her mind so superior, her taste so refined, her heart so open; her hair so soft, her eyes so bright, her skin so smooth, her countenance so beloved; her voice, her smile ... In short, Edward, I am in love with her.’

He looked at me in concern.

‘You have paid attention to many young women in your time, but I have never heard you say that you were in love before. It is serious, then?’

‘It is. I cannot live without her, and I mean to ask her to marry me.’

He shook his head.

‘I cannot like it. You have nothing to offer her.’

‘I have my prize money.’

‘You have spent it.’

‘I will make more.’

‘Do you never see a problem?’

‘Never one I cannot solve.’

He sat down heavily.

‘I cannot encourage you in this, Frederick. You will not have the blessing of her family, or Lady Russell. They want to see her marry a man of wealth and rank, and with good reason. Her entire future depends upon her choice.’

‘You do no think I am a good match?’ I asked him, surprised and a little wounded.

His answer was matter-of-fact.

‘You have a long way to go in the world before you are a good match for a baronet’s daughter. You will encounter a great deal of opposition if you go ahead with your plan. They will not give her to you willingly, and they may not give her to you at all.’

‘Opposition is there to be swept aside.’

‘We are not talking of the French Navy now. You cannot sail up the drive in a frigate, nor can you de-mast Kellynch Hall. Sir Walter will not be afraid of you, nor will he surrender. If he is set against you, he will withhold his consent.’

‘Then I will marry her without it.’

‘And would Miss Anne consent to such a marriage?’

I hesitated.

‘You see, you do not only have yourself to think of.’

‘You take too dim a view of things,’ I told him, rallying. ‘Sir Walter has not yet withheld his consent, and until he does, I see no use thinking about it.’

‘And are you sure Miss Anne will have you, even with it?’ he asked.

’I ...’

I stopped. I had been about to say, I am sure of it. She loves me, but what if I was wrong? For the first time in my life I was hesitant, and I did not like the feeling. But I could not rid myself of the thought. What if she did not love me? I could not bear to think about it.

‘I think she loves me, and tomorrow I will know for sure,’ I said.

‘Tomorrow? Do you really think you will have an opportunity to speak to her so soon?’

‘A man of action makes his own opportunities, he does not wait for them to come calling,’ I said.

I thought of her early morning walks by the river, and I made up my mind to meet her there, and ask her to be my wife.

Saturday 30 August

I had a terrible night, even worse than the restless sleep before a battle, for I was kept awake by a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

I rose at half past five, for I could toss and turn in bed no longer, and then I dressed carefully. Eschewing breakfast, I lifted the latch and went quietly outside. I turned my steps towards the river. As I did so, my spirits rose. The morning was one of soft air and a warm sun on the rise. The world was aglow with blue and green, and sparkling with the dew that clung to the grass. It was a perfect morning for a proposal—if Anne said yes.

Unused to feeling such uncertainty, I quickly banished it. I walked by the river and then stopped to skim stones, until I caught sight of a kingfisher. I paused to watch its turquoise plumage flash past, iridescent in the early-morning light, and I saw it dive into the water. I took it as a good omen: a halcyon bird had come upon me, giving me notice that my own halcyon days were about to begin. I saw the warm, calm summer stretching ahead of me, with Anne by my side, and I was joyful.

I walked on, and at last I was rewarded by the sight of her. It was still early, no more than half past six, and I was elated to think that she, too, had not been able to sleep. She saw me; hesitated; and then came on.

I walked towards her, quickening my step, until I was almost running. She sprang to meet me and then we stopped, inches apart, and looked at each other as though we could never get our fill.

She spoke.

I interrupted.

‘I can be silent no longer,’ I burst out. ‘I have watched you these many weeks ... I have talked to you ... danced with you ... been enraptured by you ... I cannot go on without knowing ... Anne, my dearest Anne ... I am in love with you’—and here I took her hands—‘please tell me, put me out of my misery, are you in love with me, too?’

She blushed, looked down, murmured something I could not hear, looked up, and pierced me with such a glance that my heart stopped beating. I stepped back the better to see her, then caught her hands and raised them to my lips, and thought that a happier man had never walked the earth.

‘Anne,’ I said, ‘will you be my wife?’

She smiled. She blushed.

‘Yes, Frederick,’ she said.

Yes, Frederick! Never had two words sounded better to me.

‘When I go to sea, will you come with me? Should you like that, Anne?’

‘Yes, I think I should like it very much. You have told me so much about your life that I am longing to see it for myself.’

‘The wonders I can show you!’ I said, anticipating the pleasures she would experience; imagining the adventure, the excitement, and the newness of it for her, who had never been beyond her own shores. ‘The ever-changing moods of the sea, its mountains and valleys, its smooth, glasslike plains. And the ports you will discover. The colours, Anne! The vibrant reds and blues and greens, not the dull colours of an English summer, beneath an English sky, but the brilliance of the Mediterranean and the clear light of the Indies.’

‘I am longing to see it all,’ she said with enthusiasm. ‘I will be as well travelled as your sister before many more years have passed.’

‘Indeed you will. The stories you will have to tell when you return!’

She was aglow with the sheer excitement of it, asking me how hot it was in the Indies, and whether it ever rained; whether she would understand the people, and whether they would understand her.

And then we embraced, and walked on ... I scarcely know what we did ... where we went ... what we said ... I was in a haze.

The sun climbed in the sky, but still we walked, now talking, now silent, with the world all before us, until at last our steps took us back to Kellynch Hall. The sight of it reminded me of the formality yet to be endured, the disdain of Sir Walter, his raised eyebrows, his cold glance, but they were all a small price to pay for winning Anne’s hand.

‘I must speak to your father,’ I said. ‘I will speak to him at once.’

She shook her head.

‘You are too late. He has gone to visit a friend for a week, and,’ glancing at the sun, which was now high in the sky, ‘he will already have left.’

I was not to be disheartened.

‘No matter, I will speak to him as soon as he returns.’

‘Until then, we will have to be circumspect in company,’ she reminded me.

I agreed. I longed to publish my prosperous love, but the matter could not be spoken of in company until Sir Walter had given his consent.

‘But what does it matter?’ I said to her. ‘For we can meet every morning by the river, and we know, dear Anne, that we are engaged.’

We walked on together as the sun climbed towards midday and it became hot, in the joyous manner of an English summer, until at last she said, ‘I must go in.’

‘Stay awhile.’

‘It will soon be time for luncheon, and Elizabeth will be wondering where I am. If I do not go now, she will send a maid to find me, and then she will ask me where I have been.’

Reluctantly I agreed.

She turned to go; I pulled her back; we embraced; she turned again. I let her go, but I looked forward to the day when we would never be parted.

I watched her as she walked back to the hall, her muslin gown fresh and pretty in the morning light, her shawl slipping from her shoulder and falling into the crook of her arm, her hair curling in the nape of her neck, and then she disappeared from view.

I stood watching the spot, and then I roused myself and returned to my brother’s house, full of high spirits. I could say nothing of my love to the world at large, not yet, but I could tell my brother.