Chapter Six

 

Sir Walter Elliot, who turned out to be exactly the man I had imagined, a complete knob, waved at us from the carriage as they drove off.

“Strange that Mrs. Clay is with them to Bath. A simple widow of no fortune or connection. Unlike your father to be in such company,” Lady Russell murmured, maybe thinking I didn't hear her mean-spirited words.

“She is Elizabeth’s companion of choice.” Anne shrugged it off.

“Over her own sister? I have to say, I find that discourteous in every way.”

“I find solace in that she will be distracted and forget I am in the country still,” Anne chided and gave me a look. “I have to close up the house and then we may leave.”

“I am at your disposal. Tell me how I may assist you.”

“You are too kind. Will you stay and meet with the new tenants of the estate, Admiral and Mrs. Croft? They will arrive at any moment and if I hurry I should be done bidding farewell to the others by this evening. When you are finished, bring the carriage to Lady Russell’s and we will carry on to Uppercross from there.”

“Of course.”

Lady Russell’s narrow jaw dropped. Of course, she had expected to be the one to meet the new tenants.

Anne hurried, convincing Lady Russell to join her for at least part of the day, bidding farewell to their many tenants.

The impulse to choose a path in the story hit then.

I couldn't be sure what it was, but something called to me from outside at the same moment as something else called to me from the front door.

My adventure was letting me choose an outcome.

Turning, even though my post was the front door, I left through the parlor in the back of the house and walked into the garden.

My feet drew me across the lawns to a hillside.

The warm wind cooled, picking up enough to rustle my hair loose from the braids on top of my head. I contemplated going back but whatever called me from the hillside was too strong. It would surely turn out to be an important part of the story.

And I most likely wouldn’t miss anything important. From where I stood on the hillside I had a full view of the driveway. I would see the Admiral and Mrs. Croft arriving five minutes before they did.

My steps lengthened, and after a few moments I was running, in a dress and shawl and the most uncomfortable shoes in the history of footwear.

When I reached the top of the hill, my breath hitched as I took in the spectacular view of the entire valley opposite the estate.

It was three hundred and sixty degrees of beauty.

I spun in a circle to experience it all until I grew dizzy and slumped to my knees in the soft field.

I didn't know why I had been compelled to come here until I saw the view. Surely this was what the effort was for.

But then I saw him.

I would have recognized him anywhere. We’d based the character on an actor I fancied.

He wasn't astride a white horse or even in his navy uniform. He was a regular man in a top hat and dress clothes that resembled a suit but with weird Regency pants and very tall boots. They were riding boots which made me think a horse might be nearby.

When he took the hat off and narrowed his gaze to see me better, I lost myself. He had the most dazzling blue eyes and beautiful face. He put the hillsides and estate to shame.

The way he strutted, as if he had a cause to saunter over with swagger, was mind-numbing.

My jaw dropped and my heart raced. Even with my mouth wide open, I could get no air. He had become everything in a matter of moments—footsteps.

His dark-blond hair, tanned skin, and plump lips caught my stare after the haunted quality of his own gaze had already claimed me.

He stopped mid stride and sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry to be so forward. I mistook you for someone else.”

“It’s all right. I’m Em—Jane Dalrymple. A guest of the Elliots.”

“I know that last name. Your mother must be the viscountess, Lady Dalrymple.”

“She is.”

“I’m Captain Wentworth, Frederick Wentworth. I’m sorry to have approached you thusly. I—it was most ill-mannered of me, and I swear I am a gentleman. I mean to say, there is one in here, somewhere.” He smiled and I gulped. “But I honestly believed you to be someone I am well enough acquainted with to be as bold as this.”

“I’m Jane.” I knew I'd said my name already but the smile that crested his perfect lips distracted me.

“Yes.”

“Captain Wentworth, Mrs. Croft’s brother?” I didn't know what else to say. He was too handsome.

“The very same. Do you know my sister or the admiral?”

“Yes—no. They’re coming to let my cousin’s—Anne’s estate. I am to meet them in the yard.” I struggled with words and his beauty and the fact I didn’t speak this way even when I was alone and doing my best British accent with Lola.

Lola.

Her face brought with it memories. Thoughts I’d not had in some time.

Lola.

The fire.

Jonathon.

“Are you unwell?” He interrupted my suddenly distracted thoughts as I glanced around us, checking for Jonathan. I should have checked for him when I arrived but the desire just hadn’t been there.

“I need to get back to the house. Your sister will arrive any moment.” I turned and ran down the hill, hating my shoes increasingly with every step. Why did I write this into the script? Why didn't I let women wear Tieks?

“Miss Dalrymple, wait!” He ran after me.

When we were in the yard again he caught up, stopping next to me as I eyed the door and feared with all my heart that the man I loved more than anything was standing in the house, peeking around a corner, watching and waiting. “Allow me to escort you.” He chuckled and breathed, heaving his words. “Please.”

“Thank you. But I must go.”

“Perhaps, since my sister is arriving any moment, I might also wait inside?” It was a dodgy thing to ask in that era, but I nodded, completely agreeing to his coming inside and chasing off my ghosts.

I had to stay focused. I had to show them the machine was sound and people like me could use it. Once.

He opened the door for me and we walked inside.

Suddenly the inappropriate thing we were doing hit me.

“Tea?” I asked nervously.

“Yes, thank you.”

I hurried away from him to find a servant. When I did, I ordered the tea and snuck back to where he was. Lurking around the corner like I was his ghost, I watched him as he gazed at the paintings and furnishings. His nose wrinkled when he viewed the family. I couldn't help but laugh at that. Seeing Elizabeth and Sir Walter, I might have done the same thing.

He glanced back, noticing me. I popped from behind the corner, like an idiot, and took a deep breath and forced myself back into the room with my literary crush from about the age of thirteen. He truly was the absolute best a man could be. Making him a look-alike of one of my celebrity crushes might have been a mistake; I was giggling and grinning like a fool.

“Where are Miss Anne and the rest of the family?”

“Her father and horrible sister—” I paused and winced.

“It’s not a crime to admit to one’s true feelings, so long as the recipient of those feelings is not nearby. I shall share mine to make you feel more at ease. I too cannot bear them, either of them. To be in this house, except to relish the knowledge that they can no longer afford it, is more painful than anything imaginable. How incredibly dreadful is that?” He sighed and lowered his gaze. “They have never shown me kindness and I cannot be the bigger man, I’m afraid. Perhaps I lied when I said a gentleman lurks inside me.”

“Bath,” I blurted.

“Bath?” He wrinkled his perfect nose again.

“Sir Walter Elliot and Elizabeth have gone to Bath.”

“Anne hates Bath.”

“She’s here. With me.”

“Here?” His eyes widened.

“Not in the house now. She’s visiting tenants. We close the house up today in anticipation your sister and her husband will take possession immediately.”

“I see.” He sighed. “That is likely for the best. I took a jaunt in the fields above the house in hopes of seeing my sister already in the garden.” He said it in a way that made me suspect he wasn't telling the truth. Not the real truth. It was his version of why he’d been there. No doubt the one he’d chanted when he was walking up the hillside.

“Of course.” Had Anne been the one to take a stroll in the field she would have come upon him and maybe the entire story would have come to its end right then and there. She would have seen him, been weak and showed him that she loved him. He might have returned the love and there would have been no need for the full tale.

As it was, this was a lucky turn of events.

I had been the one to see him. He had used me to get into the house and be near her. I knew this was the same as my using him as a distraction so I could prove my machine was safe, even for a person like me.

The sound of the carriage arriving at the house ended the stare we were stuck in, both thinking of another person.

He was the best sort of company to be with, someone who understood your distraction was because your heart was split. You had one half while the other piece remained with the person you loved where it was unintentionally brutalized.

“It sounds as if my sister has arrived,” he spoke softly, nodding his head at the hall behind us.

“It does,” I agreed.

He smiled weakly, not for me but through me.

That was how we saw each other, we didn't.

It was rather perfect for a moment.