Amanda Grange - Captain Wentworth’s Diary

‘No,’ I admitted, feeling much better than I had done for a long while, for although Edward had always been quick to deflate me when I was full of conceit, now that I needed solace he gave it in full measure.

‘Still, I cannot acquit myself of ungentlemanly behaviour,’ I said.

‘You were wrong to encourage the attentions of the young ladies, certainly, and it was even worse of you to encourage them through pride, but you did not wilfully mislead them, for you did not understand your own feelings at the time. You will have to abide by the consequences, and may yet have to pay for your folly, but do not despair; everything may turn out for the best. Louisa is only nineteen. She is at an age when her feelings are changing rapidly. She may not have regarded herself as engaged to you, and even if she did, she may yet see a man she likes better. You look surprised!’ he said mockingly. ‘Yet you are not the only man in the world. There are others younger, richer, handsomer, more courteous and more gentlemanly—there is no need to look at me so. I love you very well, and I think any woman would be sensible who did likewise, but you are not the embodiment of every virtue.’

I was forced to smile, and say ruefully, ‘True enough.’

‘Now, enough of Louisa. Tell me about Anne. Is she much altered?’

‘She looks the same as she ever did,’ I said, as I recalled the brightness of her eye and the freshness of her complexion on the Cobb.

And then my spirits fell, and I told him of her coldness, and of how she avoided me. And then they rose as I told him that she had turned down Charles Musgrove, at which point he said, ‘Ah,’ thoughtfully. And then I told him how I had admitted to myself that she was the only woman I could ever wish to marry.

‘Brooding will not help matters. You must fill your time here, so that you do not have time to think. We will keep you busy with visits and parties. Never fear, you will come about.’

The opportunity to unburden myself had done me good, and his common sense had further heartened me, so that it was with tolerable spirits that I left the table with him and joined Eleanor in the drawing-room. She played the harp and sang to us, and the evening was more enjoyable than I had any right to expect.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and every one of Edward’s parishioners turned out for church. The sermon was affecting and the singing was uplifting. Afterwards, I had a chance to talk to Edward’s neighbours, and then we went home to a hearty meal.

I wondered how Anne was spending her Christmas, and whether she was happy.

Edward had a letter from Sophia this morning. He gave it to me to read. She talked of their Christmas celebrations, and of Benjamin’s bad toe, which she hopes will soon be better, but fears may be gout. She mentioned that they might go to Bath for the waters, and said that Lady Russell and Anne were already there.

I frowned.

‘You are reading the part about Lady Russell,’ said Edward, reading my frown correctly. ‘You still have not forgiven her for the part she played in separating you and Anne?’

‘No, I have not. It was a bad day’s work. I am surprised that Sophia likes her,’ I remarked.

‘But I am not. They are both of them sensible women.’

‘Hah!’ I replied. ‘Poor Anne! To be once more with her father and sister, who will slight her as much as ever, and in Bath, a place she has never liked. If only I was free, I could go to her,’ I said.

‘Perhaps her father and sister treat her better now,’ said my brother, taking the letter back from me when I had done.

‘Perhaps. But I do not believe it. I am sure they are just as bad as they ever were.’

A letter from Harville told me that Louisa was now so much better that she was able to rise every day, and that, although she was quiet, for her nerves were still delicate, she was almost fully recovered, and would soon be returning home to Uppercross.

The time is soon approaching, then, when my fate will be decided forever.

And so, it is here, the New Year, but whether it will be a year of good or ill, who can say?

I went round the parish with my brother today. It is a pretty place, and his parishioners are good people. It is no wonder he is so happy. A refined couple by the name of Darnley told us they were making up a party to go for a drive next week, and asked us to join them. We agreed with pleasure. The weather is mild for the time of year, and it is pleasant to be out of doors.

‘You seem very cheerful today,’ remarked Edward, as we rode out with the Darnleys’ party.

‘Perhaps,’ I said cautiously.

We had fallen a little way behind the others, and were free to talk, though I did not know whether it was a good thing or a bad.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘Are you going to tell me about it?’

‘I have had another letter from Harville,’ I said. ‘He writes to me from time to time.’

‘He is well?’

‘Yes, he and his family are thriving.’

‘And?’

‘And, after he had spoken of his family, he mentioned that Louisa and Benwick seem much taken with each other, and that they spend all day reading poetry together. He made some veiled comments about men protecting their treasures lest they should be stolen, and then he asked me when I would be returning to Lyme.’

‘Ah, I see. He thinks you might be displaced in Louisa’s affections.’

‘Yes.’

‘No wonder you are so cheerful.’

‘And yet I cannot believe it,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘Benwick lost his fiancée less than a year ago, and she was a very superior young woman.’

‘A man does not always want a superior young woman for a wife. Sometimes he wants a sweet disposition and an affectionate nature.’

‘Very true.’

‘And will you be going to Lyme?’

‘No. I have written to Harville and told him that I will not be able to return. I remarked that I was delighted that Louisa was making such good progress, and I was also delighted that Benwick was more cheerful. I went so far as to say it sounded as though they were doing each other good, and that this must surely be something that would please all their friends.’

‘That seems very plain.’

‘As plain as I dared make it, at any rate.’

One of our party turning round and calling to us that moment, we put our horses into a trot and rejoined the main group.

The visit was very enjoyable. The house was fine, the gardens better, and the weather was kind. We have arranged to take another outing in two weeks’ time, and I find I am looking forward to it. It seems that I might soon be free of my restraints and able to live again.

Sophia and Benjamin have determined to go to Bath, for it is almost certain that he is gouty.

‘I told him he should not drink so much port, but he would not listen,’ said Edward.

‘I would like to see Bath,’ said Eleanor. ‘I have never been.’

‘Then we will go later in the year,’ Edward promised her.

We whiled away the rest of the evening by talking of the gaieties to be had in Bath, and the society to be met with. Edward and I recalled everything we could from our rare visits there, and we entertained Eleanor with talk of the baths, the concerts and the assembly rooms until it was time to retire.

A smile broke out on my face this morning as I read my letters.

‘What happiness!’ I said. ‘Louisa is to marry Captain Benwick! They fell in love during her convalescence. It is all here, in this letter from Harville. Splendid fellow! He wrote to me as soon as he heard the news.’

‘Captain Benwick is a friend of yours, I collect?’ said Eleanor.

‘Yes, he is indeed.’

‘And Louisa? Was she not the girl who had the accident at Lyme?’

‘Yes, she was.’

‘Then it is a very happy outcome to a sad event,’ said Eleanor approvingly.

‘And so it is!’ I cried.

I was glad that I had ordered my horse before opening my letters, for within half an hour I was able to leave the house and ride out in the frosty morning, with my breath clouding the air in front of me. When I had ridden far enough, and was out of sight and sound of any house, I reined in my horse and shouted, ‘Free!’ at the top of my voice. ‘Free! I am free!’

I laughed with the joy of it. After all these weeks of anguish, I was free at last to go to Bath! Free to find Anne! Free to marry her, if she would have me.

Doubts assailed me. I patted my horse’s neck and rode on, trying not to listen to them, but they would not be denied. She might not have me. She might refuse me. But despite my fears, there was room for hope. She had turned down at least one man of better pretensions than myself, when she refused Charles Musgrove, and over and over I had asked myself, Was it for me? I knew there was only one way to be sure. I must go to Bath at once and then I would know, once and for all.

Over luncheon, I told Eleanor and Edward of my intentions. Eleanor was not surprised, assuming I was going to see Sophia, but Edward guessed my true reason. He spoke to me about it after dinner when Eleanor had withdrawn.