Amanda Grange - Captain Wentworth’s Diary

‘And how are they to manage that?’ I asked, astonished at the idea of staging a battle in London!

‘With ship’s barges, fitted out with miniature cannon.’

‘It is a good thing we had more than barges at our disposal, or we would never have won anything!’ I remarked. ‘But I will go if I can.’

He took his leave, and I found myself looking forward to the coming weeks: a trip to London, a sojourn with Sophia, and, at last, a chance to visit Edward and meet his new wife.

I saw Jenson this afternoon. His ship had just come in, and we exchanged news. He told me that Lencet had been killed in action in January, and he asked about Harville, whom he had not seen since we all served together in the year nine. I told him of Harville’s wound two years ago, but that otherwise Harville, Harriet and their children were well. I told him, too, that Harville’s sister, Fanny, was engaged to Benwick, and he was pleased to hear it.

We talked of our plans now that the war was over. Jenson told me he had decided to go into his family’s business in the wine trade, and was planning to expand it by buying a fleet of ships, so that they could transport the wine as well as buying and selling it.

‘And I suppose you will captain the flagship?’ I asked.

‘Of course!’

I told him about the celebrations in London and we decided to go there. He agreed to join me for breakfast, so that we may set out tomorrow together.

Jenson and I were in the middle of breakfast, making the final plans for our trip to London, when a note arrived for me.

‘I will take a turn on deck,’ said he, preparing to rise.

‘No need,’ I said. ‘It is from Harville. Stay. You will like to hear what he says.’ I unfolded the letter and began to read it aloud. ‘He is in Plymouth ... is glad I am put in to shore ... Oh, no!’ I said, as I saw unhappy news, ‘Oh, no!’

‘What is it?’ Jenson asked.

I shook my head in disbelief. I could barely bring myself to say the words.

‘It is Fanny, Harville’s sister. She is dead.’

‘Dead?’ he asked in horror.

I could do no more than nod my head.

‘All the beauty ... such a superior mind ... this is terrible news,’ he said. ‘She had all her life before her.’

I read on, my eyes quickly scanning the page, and letting out a groan when I saw what Harville had asked of me.

‘No! Oh, no, I cannot!’ I cried aloud, shrinking from it. And yet, even as I did so, I knew it must be done, and that there was no one better than me to do it.

‘What? What is it?’ asked Jenson.

‘Benwick,’ I said. ‘James. He does not know.’

Jenson’s face fell.

‘He has just come back from the Cape, and is under orders for Portsmouth. Harville cannot bring himself to break the news. He asks me to do it for him.’

‘Frederick ...’ he said, with the deepest sympathy, for it was a task no man would envy.

And yet it could not be avoided. I folded the letter resolutely.

‘I must do it at once. I must write for a leave of absence.’

‘I will take the letter for you.’

‘Thank you, Jenson, from the bottom of my heart. And I must hope it is granted, for I cannot wait for the answer.’

I wrote my letter and then stood up.

‘I must go at once. Poor Benwick. How will he bear it? To lose her just when his hopes were to be realized, when his long engagement was to come to an end, and when he was to take Fanny to wife. He has waited for this moment for years, and now for it to be snatched away from him, and in such a way. It is too cruel.’

He nodded in mute agreement.

And then I left the ship, and set out on my dreadful errand.

A terrible day. A terrible, terrible day.

I arrived in Portsmouth in the early hours, having travelled night and day from Plymouth, and rowed out to the Grappler. Benwick was delighted to see me. He was all smiles as he congratulated me on my success, telling me it could not have happened to a more deserving fellow, then demanded my congratulations on his promotion and on his wealth. He was so full of good spirits that he did not notice my dejection, and he broke my heart by saying, ‘At last I will see Fanny. I cannot wait! That was the hardest part of being at sea, Wentworth, having to leave her behind. I have kept her waiting for two years whilst I made my fortune and earned my promotion, but now our engagement can come to an end and we will be married as soon as the banns can be read.’

I could have wept. I did not know how to tell him, I could not find the words. But at last my mood communicated itself to him and he looked at me uncertainly. I told him I had bad news and bade him lead me down below. Once in his cabin, I told him, and he crumpled. I have never seen a man brought so low. He sank down, for his legs would no longer support him, and he was like a man stunned. He neither moved nor spoke. And then, at last, it washed over him, in waves of despair, and I thought he would go mad. I never left his side, but sat with him all day and all night, and as I did so, I hoped I never had to live through such a terrible day, ever again.

At last, Benwick is over the worst. He no longer raves, though I find his quietness sad almost beyond bearing. He is like a hollow man.

I cannot help thinking of him as he was at twelve years old, walking hesitantly into the Academy, looking around him nervously, a small lad for his age, but soon impressing us with his intelligence and his courage. I can see his confident step when he graduated from the Academy, and his interest when he first noticed Fanny at Harville’s wedding. I can remember him smiling when he told me that she had accepted his hand; his regret that he could not marry her until he had won his promotion; and his determination to succeed, for her sake.

And now the life has gone out of him, as though his heart died with Fanny.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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