Amanda Grange: Captain Wentworth's Diary

The dance was over all too soon. She had a surprising grace when she danced, which I found pleasing, and as a result of my attentions she had lost her downtrodden look. By the end of the dance, there was a light in her eye and some colour in her cheek, so that she was almost blooming. I escorted her to the side of the room and left her, reluctantly, with a displeased Miss Elliot, before rejoining Edward.

‘And what do you think of Miss Anne?’ he asked me.

I regarded him enquiringly.

‘Miss Anne Elliot,’ he elaborated.

‘I have not seen her. I assumed she was still at home with a chill,’ I said. ‘You must point her out to me—though if her father and sister are any indication, I do not think I wish to meet her. She will, no doubt, be proud and disagreeable, full of her own beauty and importance, and holding other people in contempt.’

‘But you have just been dancing with her!’ he said.

I was astonished.

‘What?’

I looked across the room at Miss Anne. She happened to glance round at that moment, and I caught her eye. Upon seeing me, she smiled and turned away.

‘So, that is Miss Anne!’ I exclaimed, as our conversation took on a whole new meaning. I could not help laughing. ‘I am beginning to enjoy my shore leave.’

‘I hope you are not thinking of a flirtation,’ said my brother. ‘She is very young, only nineteen, and no match for a man of your age and experience.’

‘Is she not, though? I think she is a very good match indeed. She has already given me one broadside, and I suspect she would be capable of giving me another.’

My brother looked at me doubtfully, but I clapped him on the back and told him not to worry, saying that I had no intention of harming the lady, but that a mild flirtation would help to pass the time until I return to the sea.

I am looking forward to it. I believe it will provide her with some much-needed attention, too. There is nothing like being singled out by an eligible bachelor to raise a young lady in the estimation of her friends.

I fell in with my brother’s idea of joining him on his duties around the village this morning, for I had nothing else to do. Whilst he pointed out the houses of every member of his congregation, and introduced me to those who were at their windows or in their gardens—which seemed to be all of them—I found myself wishing for a sight of Miss Anne Elliot. Unfortunately, the closest I came to such an encounter was when Sir Walter and Miss Elliot drove by in their carriage, going through a puddle and splashing my boots. Edward laughed, but I was not amused, for I had no servant, and when we returned to his house, I had to polish them myself.

This afternoon, after putting the shine back on my boots, I rode out into the country. I was enlivened by the sight of a milkmaid with rosy cheeks, who was carrying two pails across her shoulders by means of a yoke. I helped her to put it down as she took a drink at the well, and was rewarded with a kiss and a smile.

I was beginning to think that life in the country was very pleasant, and to understand why Edward had chosen to stay on shore, when an evening playing whist with the local worthies reminded me why I went to sea.

I rose early, full of energy, and was soon out of doors. How my brother could bear to lie in bed on such a beautiful morning I did not know. I walked through the village and then on into the country, going through fields and copses until I came to the river. I jumped it at its narrowest point, in the exuberance that comes with an early morning in summer, and went on, through verdant fields. I had just come to a small weir when a familiar figure came into view. Miss Anne Elliot was walking there, and she was coming towards me.

‘Commander Wentworth,’ she said.

There was a smile around the corners of her eyes, and it was clear she was thinking of our last encounter as much as I was.

‘I am surprised to see you here,’ I remarked as I drew level with her, determined to pay her back in her own coin, ‘for I was sure your duties as a companion would keep you inside, even on a morning as beautiful as this one. Can it be that Miss Elliot did not need you, or have you slipped out of the house whilst she is still abed? Do not neglect your obligations, I beg of you, lest you should find yourself turned out of the house. I would not like to see you made destitute for the sake of a morning’s stroll.’

She laughed up at me.

‘Are you very angry with me?’ she asked.

I smiled.

‘How could I be angry with you when you bested me in a fair fight? You would be of great value aboard a warship, Miss Elliot. Your tactics have the advantage of being both original and efficacious.’

‘It was too tempting!’ she said.

‘But what are you doing out at this hour, alone?’ I asked her. ‘I cannot believe your father would be pleased if he knew you were walking without a chaperon.’

‘On the contrary, he has no objection to my walking alone when I am on Elliot land.’

I started.

‘Yes, sir, you see, you are trespassing. The land as far as the river belongs to us.’

I thought of my leap across it, taken without any idea I was entering private lands.

‘I am glad I did not know, or I would not have come so far,’ I said. ‘But you are within your rights to throw me off. Well, are you going to call one of your gamekeepers to eject me, or are you, perhaps, going to rout me yourself?’

‘I believe I will ignore it for the moment,’ she said consideringly. ‘You have, after all, saved us from Napoleon. It was a great service, and as our fields still belong to us, rather than belonging to the French, then the least we can do in return is to allow you to stroll in them from time to time.’

‘Then, if you permit, I will accompany you on your walk.’

She nodded gracefully and we fell into step together. I limited my stride so that I could accommodate her own smaller step, and as I looked down, I noticed that she had small and very pretty feet, encased in blue kid shoes.

‘Do you often walk in the mornings?’ I asked her.

‘Always, if the weather permits,’ she said.

‘The exercise seems to suit you,’ I said, noticing the air of vitality about her. ‘Are you always so animated, so early in the day?’

She coloured slightly, and I confess I felt a surge of vanity, as I guessed it was my attentions, and not the earliness of the hour, that had brought the bloom to her cheek. I took pity on her embarrassment, however, saying: ‘Perhaps you are remembering the assembly on Friday, and how enlivening it was? Or can it be that you are one of those souls who are always happier out of doors?’

‘I believe I do prefer it,’ she acknowledged.

‘And I. I feel trapped indoors, hemmed in, but then I am used to the open sea and the endless horizon. Have you ever been to sea, Miss Elliot?’

‘I have been on pleasure trips around the bay at several beauty spots, but never any farther.’

‘And how did you like it?’

‘I liked it very well. It was invigorating to feel the wind in my face, and to feel the spray. I wondered, at the time, whether life was like that for sailors, who live on a ship all the time, or did it become commonplace? Do you take pleasure in the elements, Commander Wentworth, or are they something to be battled against, or simply ignored?’

‘On occasion the sea is our enemy, but usually the open air, the wind and the sun are exhilarating.’

‘But is it not confining, also, to be on board a ship? It must be frustrating to be full of energy and yet unable to go anywhere.’

‘Unable to go anywhere?’ I exclaimed. ‘I cannot allow it. On a ship, one is able to go everywhere!’