Captain Wentworth's Persuasion (44 page)

BOOK: Captain Wentworth's Persuasion
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“As if she was born aboard a warship,” Frederick asserted. “Truthfully, Benjamin, if Anne had not been with me, I am not sure I would have survived. Dr. Laraby says she tended me for almost five days straight while my fever raged on. Benjamin, Anne was of
all I thought. Only when I opened my eyes and found her there, did I have a will to go on. If this happened years ago . . ..” They stopped walking when Frederick touched the Admiral’s arm.
“Then I am pleased you and Miss Anne found your way back to each other. I would not want to have to tell Sophie or Edward of your demise. Did you lose any men?” They began to walk again, and Frederick’s two lieutenants followed closely behind them.
“Not a one,Admiral.”
“Excellent! The high command will be pleased to hear it.” Benjamin patted him on the back. “Here we are.” The Admiral indicated the door to a small storefront office. Frederick and his men followed Benjamin into the darkened room.
“Wentworth!” Pennington, a Vice Admiral of the Red, came forward to meet them.“You have returned! That means we have all our ships back but two.We are certainly glad you made it in safely. Have a seat, Gentlemen.” He gestured to two chairs at the end of the table. “Sit there, Wentworth. I want to hear all the news before you write up your report.”
Benjamin took the seat next to Frederick’s. “I am not sure, Sir, where you want me to begin; I assume you read the report of our earlier capture—the frigate.”
“Certainly, Captain, but what of this latest prize? My spies on the dock tell me you brought in a French sloop.”
“My men, Sir, did the
bringing
; I am afraid I was severely injured when we made our assault. As we prepared to board the sloop, an American took me into his sights and unloaded into me. If it were not for the men of my crew and the ship’s doctor, I would not have survived. Fortunately, we had no other serious injuries—and no casualties.”
“An American, you say?”Admiral Pennington questioned.
“Yes, Sir; the last I remember, the man shouted out some insult directed at the King.” Frederick turned to his two lieutenants. “Might either one of you give the Vice-Admiral more facts on the American prisoner?”
Lieutenant Harwood spoke up first. “The prisoner surely was
not happy with our takeover of the French ship; he put up quite a fight. Needless to say, many of our men were upset with his attack on the Captain; he suffered the wrath of several of them before we could secure his safety. He shouted his curses for several days, but as we came closer to English soil, he became more docile—accepting his fate. It appears that the ship, as noted in our log, was a private one, sailing under the French flag—mostly mercenaries onboard.”
Benjamin turned to Avendale. “Did the American give any indication as to why he was on this ship?”
Avendale shared what he knew.“In the past few days, the American has been more open with information. One of our men speaks French, and he managed to hold several conversations with him.The prisoner’s father, evidently, was of French extraction, having settled in a predominantly French community of New Orleans in the Americas. He said he was sent by a group of French sympathizers to help Bonaparte. We thought that to be ridiculous. I mean, what would Bony do with an American? Why would America want to fight this crazy French war? They surely cannot still be fighting the War of 1812? It was three years ago, after all.”
“Some do not end their fighting with the cessation of the war,” Pennington remarked. “And what the American said may not be so bizarre.”
“What do you mean, Sir?” Frederick stopped filling the water glass before him and turned his attention fully on Admiral Pennington.
Instead of answering, Pennington instructed Frederick,“Tell us what you know of Bonaparte.”
Frederick told Pennington what he had said to Harwood earlier. “We found out at Gibraltar that Wellington defeated Bonaparte at Waterloo. That was in the middle of June. We know little else of the scope of the war since that time. We have not been in port for almost a month.The men on
The Resolve
carried on after my injury, but towing the French sloop slowed down our return.”
“Then you do not know that Napoleon surrendered to the
Bellerophon’s
captain two days ago? Bony tried to make his escape: He planned to take refuge in the United States.Two French ships
anchored off the Atlantic coast prepared to receive Napoleon, but the
Bellerophon
blocked the port and his escape. It is rumored that there was to be a third—maybe even a fourth—ship, each with American sympathizers to aid in the Emperor’s escape.”
“Are-are you suggesting—?” Frederick stammered.
Pennington interrupted him. “It is possible, Captain. It would explain why the American chose to make
you
his target. If you remove the head, the body dies.”
“Not with Captain Wentworth,” Harwood interjected. “He taught us that our duty comes before everything.”
“Yes, yes,” said Pennington.“That is the British way; laudable as it is, we would expect nothing less from the commander of one of our ships.” Yet, even Pennington knew how unusual it was for a crew to be so well trained and so devoted to their commander. It spoke volumes of the type of man Frederick Wentworth was.
“Let me see if I understand, Sir.” Frederick tried to clear his thinking. “First, the war is essentially over, and very soon my men and I will be returning to civilian life.” Pennington nodded his head in agreement.“
And
my crew quite possibly captured a French ship transporting an American sent to relay Bonaparte to safety in the United States.”
“That is what it sounds like, Captain Wentworth,” Pennington confirmed.
Benjamin began to laugh. “If this plays out, Frederick, you and your men will be national heroes. You will have foiled part of Bony’s plan to leave France behind. It is said he missed his first means of escape, and the
LaSalle
was Bonaparte’s last hope.” Frederick sat silent in disbelief. “You have to admire the man,” Benjamin continued.“Bonaparte’s rise to power came as a result of his ability and his ambition, not as a man of rank or privilege. He had no noble title—he is actually from a poor family of Corsica. He was trained as an artillery officer and now is a symbol—a product of the new France.”
“Bony’s story is like yours, Captain,” Avendale said. “Unlike many of our officers, you have no title, but I would rather follow
you into battle than any other officer under which I ever served. You were trained as a naval officer.Your lives have parallels; do you not see it?”
“It will make a great story for the War Office.” Pennington knew how it would play out in the newspapers.
Frederick protested,“I want no parallels with Bonaparte!”
“Let us get all the particulars on paper,” Pennington encouraged.
Frederick turned to his brother by marriage.“Admiral, might I impose on you to return to
The Resolve
and retrieve Anne? Please take her to the Royal Hotel. I promised her we would stay there for a few days—at least, until this is complete.”
“It would be my pleasure. Mrs. Wentworth is an exceptional woman. Wait until you meet her, Pennington.” Benjamin Croft stood to take his leave.
Pennington called to the Admiral’s retreating form,“Croft, see if Mrs. Wentworth will join us for dinner? I will bring my Miranda along; she will enjoy the company of another lady.”
“Admiral,” Frederick interceded, “after you have Anne settled in one of the hotel rooms, be sure to advise the hotel dining room of our party.”
Benjamin waved his hand in recognition of what the men said. He knew exactly how to arrange the evening; the Admiral would make sure Anne understood that her husband, under subtly worded orders, would dine this evening with one of his commanding officers. Frederick needed her support tonight; a naval wife could make or break her husband’s career. Frederick had probably planned an intimate meal for his bride, but that would have to wait. Her husband’s career came first this evening. Besides, if Anne Wentworth could entertain the supercilious creatures who populated her father’s drawing room, Frederick had no cause for alarm; but to err on the side of caution, Benjamin Croft would guarantee Frederick’s success with gentle hints to Sir Walter’s second daughter.
CHAPTER 21
O, my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June.
O, my Luve’s like the melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
—Robert Burns,“O, My Luve’s Like a Red, Red Rose”
 
They spent six weeks in Plymouth waiting for something to change. Although pressed repeatedly by the allied armies, the French continued to hold out, not accepting their defeat. The Wentworths let a small cottage on the outskirts of the town for privacy and to economize. Frederick and Anne had decided to save his prize money to purchase their own home. Despite never having once prepared her own meal,Anne became quite adept at improvisation. Used to fending for himself, Frederick assisted her. Some of their fondest moments resulted from disastrous attempts in the kitchen.They would laugh hysterically in each other’s arms, settle for bread and tea, and spend the night in passionate lovemaking.
At the beginning of August, he received word from Edward that he and Christine had welcomed a son, Edward James. Frederick promised in his return letter that he and Anne would visit as soon as the Navy released him from his duties.
In September, the story of the action taken by
The Resolve
and of Wentworth’s injury became well known in Plymouth, and he and Anne retreated to Kellynch to stay with the Admiral and Sophia. Frederick worried how the move would affect Anne—returning to her childhood home, but as a guest.Yet, Anne reasoned she should be there for Sophia, before his sister’s lying-in. “We can revisit the lake,” she whispered in his ear as Frederick took Anne into his arms.
“Have you ever made love in the open?” he teased, as he trailed a line of kisses down Anne’s neck.
“Frederick!” she protested, trying to shove away from him by placing her hands firmly against his chest.
He raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence.
Finally, she burst out laughing.“You know full well I have never made love anywhere but in our bed!”
“Then perhaps we should make love in
your
bed,” he suggested.

My
bed?”Anne looked confused.
He offered in explanation, “Your bedchamber—the one in the east wing.”
“My old room?” she whispered.“You would want to make love there? Why, Frederick?”
He was quiet for a moment and then responded, “When I returned to Lyme—the time I left you the note regarding Louisa’s progress . . .” Anne looked at him intently, trying to understand the emotions behind his words. “I went to your room and spent time there—alone. I imagined you there—touching your favorite things. My heart felt heavy—I accepted the fact you would never be mine; I would never know happiness. I laid across your bed, trying to recall the smell of lavender on your pillow—hugging it to me, imagining you in my arms—staring up at the canopy, and feeling a pain in my heart—the loneliness consuming my soul.”
Anne understood; she knew how she would feel if she found herself in the house where Frederick grew into manhood.“Ah,” she said quietly.Then she said,“We would have the wing all to ourselves.”
“As if we were alone in our own house,” he murmured.
“Kellynch would feel like home again to me.” Her eyes lit with excitement.“Would you enjoy staying in the east wing?” she asked.
Frederick pulled her closer. “Would I enjoy making my wife happy? Would I enjoy having you entirely to myself—hearing you cry out my name in ecstasy? I assume your question is rhetorical, my Dear.” He kissed her passionately. “I will have Ned move us into your room this afternoon,” he said huskily when he came up for air.
“Thank you, Frederick.” She kissed his ear as she inched closer to him.“You the kindest, most considerate man . . ..”
“Do not tell anyone else.” He turned her chin so she faced him. “Kind and considerate are not qualities for which the Navy looks in their captains.” By then, they were lost to their combined desire. Frederick pulled her down with him as he leaned back on the chaise. “I love you,” he gasped as Anne moved across him. “I love you—forever.”
The news of his commendation shocked their little household and gave them a reason for celebration.“A Rear Admiral of the White!” Anne danced around the room, waving the letter through the air as if it were a butterfly’s wings.“How many bars and medals is that on your dress uniform?” she inquired sweetly. She laughed as she spun around him one more time.
“Enough to impress even your father, I suppose.” Frederick smiled to see her so happy.“Of course, it is not as many as Benjamin.”
“You, my Husband, will be the best-looking Rear Admiral in the whole British Navy,”Anne declared as she went up on her tiptoes to nibble on his bottom lip.

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