Searching For Captain Wentworth (31 page)

‘There are not
too many steps now, Miss Elliot, and they are
not so steep. Here, take my arm again and we shall
navigate
ourselves just a
little way further. I am rather mindful of the fact
that I’ve left my sisters to shift for themselves.’

I thought his
words rather prophetic as I considered how the
men in Jane’s life seemed to let her down one way
or another, from
what I’d read.
Perhaps the reason that Jane and Cassandra were so
close was because they knew that ultimately no one
else had the
time or
inclination to truly meet their particular wants and needs.

We were soon
home, parting at our respective doorways with
promises to meet again as soon as we could. Jane
and Cassandra
said their
goodbyes first, leaving Charles who lingered.

‘I have enjoyed
our picnic together, Miss Elliot, and I know
my sisters always relish your company.’

‘I am sure that
no one could have enjoyed the day quite as
much as I did myself. Thank you so much for asking
me to come.’

‘The pleasure
was entirely mine.’ He lifted his hat and bowed.

‘Until tomorrow,
Miss Elliot.’

The door opened
to admit me into the cool, dark hallway. I
caught sight of myself in the pier glass as I
passed, and as the
maidservant took
my bonnet and pelisse, I examined my reflection
turning my face one way and then the other. It
certainly looked like
my face.
The eyes that regarded me were mine and as green as the
jade vase on the table below me. It was very
strange, but I was not
certain
if I could see anything left of Sophia at all unless what I
observed was really her likeness after all. Was it
my own face that
I could see or
had I simply become used to seeing another in the
glass? I tried to remember but I couldn’t think
about anything very
much, except
that I thought I might have been someone else a very
long time ago. I didn’t want to think about that.
There were other,
much more
important subjects occupying my mind. As I mounted
the staircase lost in my thoughts about the day and
the warmth of
my feelings
towards Lieutenant Austen, I sensed such a moment of
happiness that I couldn’t think when I had last
felt the same. Jane
had talked of
fate and in that moment I believed it was destiny that
had brought us all together.

The next day
dawned as bright and warm as a midsummer’s day. I
was looking forward to the gala, but each second
and every minute
that passed
meant we were also getting nearer to the time of our
departure from Bath. I didn’t want to think about
the fact that there
was only one
more evening left to enjoy the company of friends
who’d become so dear to me. That is, if I could
manage to spend
time with them
and I grew anxious that I might not even have a
chance to speak to them. Emma was lively and
excited, happily
chatting about
the coming trip to Lyme. I couldn’t bear to hear any
more about plans and preparations, Emma’s
instructions on the best
ways to
pack gowns, or Mrs Randall’s enquiries on whether I was
looking forward to the trip. The feelings of
claustrophobia were
overwhelming me
again. As the afternoon dragged on, I knew I had
to get out into the sunshine or I’d go mad and when
I was happy
that everyone
else was busily occupied, I slipped out before they
could stop me.

I escaped to
Sydney Gardens. Fine weather had brought out
crowds of people who promenaded in their finery.
The sun felt very
warm on my skin,
and I wished I’d brought a parasol to keep me
cool. I kept to the shadows and the sun-dappled
paths, lingering
under tall trees
whose leaves rustled in the warm breeze over my
head. I’d reached the white gate before I stopped
to catch my breath
and cool down.
All of a sudden, I had the inexplicable feeling that
I was being watched. I looked up, and then I saw
him. There, not
ten feet away
was my very own Captain Wentworth, dressed in a
blue uniform with a velvet stock about his throat.
He carried his hat
under his arm so
that I saw the dark waves of his cropped hair
above his lean and handsome face. It was Charles
and I knew,
without a shadow
of a doubt, that he had come looking for me.

‘I thought I
might find you here,’ he said, a generous smile
breaking to light up his face.

‘You look
lovely,’ I said, before I could think of any
alternative, and then immediately thought how
inappropriate that
would sound in
this time and place.

Charles blushed
but, far from being shocked, he actually
seemed pleased by my reaction. ‘Thank you for your
generous
compliment, but
it is you who truly does justice to the word.

Indeed, if I may
be permitted to say it, Miss Elliot, you do look very
lovely.’

It was my turn
to blush.

Charles
continued. ‘There’s a military parade at four o’clock,
to celebrate the Peace.’

‘I confess; I
did not know. I should love to come and see it, to
watch you marching down the road.’

‘Well, we are to
start at Great Pulteney Street with a march
through the town and back again in time for the
grand gala opening
at six.’

‘I will come and
wave at you.’

Charles smiled
again, but then his expression changed to such
a serious one that I wondered what on earth he
could be about to
say.

‘I have enjoyed
our discussions, Miss Elliot. It has been an
honour to know you and your friendship is one I
shall always think
on with
pleasure.’

I could hardly
meet his eyes. ‘I wish we were not going away
just yet. I should so much like to know you and
your sisters better.

Thank you for
your kindness towards me, Lieutenant Austen.’

‘I hope we will
meet again.’

‘We will meet
this evening, I am certain.’

‘Yes, I trust we
will, but if we are unable to speak to one
another, if the opportunity does not arise ...
Please write to my sister
and tell
her of your plans, where you are headed on your journey.

Do I ask too
much, Miss Elliot?’

‘No, it will be
my delight to do as you ask. I sincerely hope
our paths will cross again one day.’

He paused. ‘I
must go now,’ he said, ‘but I wished you to take
this in remembrance of a friend who holds you
dear.’

From the lining
of his hat he produced a small package loosely
wrapped in paper. Peeling back the layers, I found
a small painted
miniature in an
oval frame made of gold. A rather serious, but
handsome Charles dressed in naval uniform stared
back at me from
the glass. His
skin glowed, his mouth betraying that characteristic
humour in the merest hint of a smile and those
beautiful eyes, I
knew so well,
glittered with confidence and hope.

‘It was drawn up
at Algeciras,’ he said softly. ‘I hope you will
think fondly of me if you ever care to look at it.’

I hardly knew
how to reply. Knowing whatever happened, that
I would keep it always; there were no words that
could convey just
how much his
gift meant to me.

‘I will think of
you with pleasure, Lieutenant Austen, and
treasure your gift always.’

‘I hoped you’d
say as much. I, too, will remember the time we
spent together. I will never forget it, and I pray
that …’

He hesitated and
I waited to hear the words I longed for him
to say.

‘Forgive me,
Miss Elliot, but I must go now.’

I put out my
hand to touch his arm, to prevent him from
moving just yet.

‘Of course, do
not be late on my account.’

Taking my hand
in his gloved one he pressed it to his lips. I
closed my eyes to savour his tender kiss.

‘Goodbye, Miss
Elliot.’

I wanted the
feeling to last. I hardly dared open my eyes
because I knew he should have to leave. Suddenly, I
felt the brisk release, he’d let go of my hand and
when I looked, to my enormous surprise Charles was
gone! Not
only had he
vanished into thin air, but the whole world as I was
coming to know it had disappeared. His world, the
time to which I
wanted to belong
more than ever, had completely evaporated along
with the bright sunshine and the portrait I’d been
holding. I found
myself in the
still, quiet gardens, standing alone by the white gate
in my own time with spots of rain pattering down on
my head,
which gathered
pace with every second. The mournful cry of a
seagull broke the silence as it flew above into the
thunderous
clouds that were
gathering, smothering any patch of blue with a
blanket of steel grey. Such a contrast to the happy
scene I’d been
part of a moment
ago made me long for the past. I closed my eyes,
hoping against hope that I would feel the sun on my
face and feel
Charles’s hand
holding mine. A spot of rain confirmed what I knew
before I opened them again to see the gravel paths
replaced with
concrete, the
sinuous walkways amongst towering beeches and
chestnut trees and the secret alcoves, all but
gone. I couldn’t think
what had
happened, or understand how on earth I could have
returned. I could only think that somehow the power
of Charles’s
kiss had been
too much, but that didn’t seem to make any sense.

Not that
anything about this whole crazy adventure seemed to work
by any logical means. I searched the pockets of my
jeans, snatching
at the white
glove as soon as my fingers found it, pulling it on in an
attempt to get back. Nothing happened, and though I
closed my
eyes and prayed
with all my heart to be taken back, it was no use.

Willing myself
to go back was not going to work; I knew that from
experience. I sat down on the path and cried. I
knew my tears were
completely
selfish, but I didn’t care. I wept for myself and for the
man I was sure I’d never see again.

At least the
rain meant I didn’t meet anyone on my way home.
There was no one in the park to stare at my red
eyes or stop me to
ask if I was all
right. I dodged my way between the cars, not caring
if they had to slam on their brakes in an effort to
avoid running me
over. I let
myself into the house. Feeling totally disorientated, I had
absolutely no idea how long I’d been away. In the
past when I’d
travelled back
to the present the clocks had stood still, but
somehow I couldn’t believe that this time had been
the same and a
pile of post
outside my door confirmed my gut feeling. I felt I’d
been away so long, but in any case nothing really
mattered. All I
wanted was to
crawl into bed and feel sorry for myself. Fully
clothed, I pulled the covers over my head and cried
myself to sleep.

When I woke, I
really didn’t know where I was for a moment
or for how long I’d slept, though I recollected
that I’d seen daylight
come and
go more than once as I drifted in and out of sleep. And
then when I realized, remembering all that had
happened, all my
emotions came
flooding back to overwhelm me again. I tried to tell
myself that I was being ridiculous, that it wasn’t
possible to have
fallen in love
with Jane Austen’s brother, but I couldn’t tell my
heart not to be broken at the thought of never
seeing Charles again.
It simply
wouldn’t listen. Now I was back once more the feeling
that my experience was all part of some weird dream
hit me again.
What I’d thought
had happened was totally impossible I tried to tell
myself, but the ache in my heart refused to go
away. It was real.
Every time I
closed my eyes Charles’s face was there. I felt my
hand in his and saw his lips plant his sweet kiss.