After the Letter - A Persuasion Variation

Part 11

Delays

Upon her return to Bath, Anne was allowed the benefit of late rising, to compensate for her late arrival the evening before: when she sat down to breakfast the rest of the party were already part-way through their meal. Fortunately breakfast, like any other meal, was not an occasion to be rushed, as far as Sir Walter was concerned, and he greeted his daughter's arrival with a sniff.

"You survived your visit to Uppercross with nary a problem?"

Anne nodded.

"And how was the Musgrove girl's wedding?"

"Benwick," Anne interposed. "She is no longer Musgrove, but Benwick. Louisa Benwick." Anne smiled. "And the wedding was a happy one."

"Indeed." Her father took a sip of tea. "We shall see if the marriage remains so. I hear that he suffers from low spirits?"

"Captain Benwick is quite well, now, father," Anne said. She served herself with a slice of pound cake and poured a cup of tea. "He was brought low by grief, but that is quite to expected, once one understands the circumstances -"

"I don't know," Sir Walter said, shaking his head. "I think allowing circumstances to dictate one's mood shows a dangerous lack of self-control."

Anne's grip on her teacup tightened.

"Personally, I think it shows a great depth of feeling -"

"Which is quite father's point, Anne," Elizabeth said, from the other side of the breakfast table. "One should have the confidence and poise to resist giving into feeling all the time. It's quite inelegant."

"Indeed, I would even go as far as to say it's rather European," Her father said, with distaste. "An Englishman should be able to contain his emotions and allow his wits to dictate his actions," he turned to Mrs. Clay. "Don't you agree?"

"Oh, indeed I do, Sir Walter." Penelope Clay turned a watery smile on her benefactor, before risking a glance at Anne. "Though I do also understand Miss. Anne's perspective. It can be difficult, when one feels strongly, to separate one's emotions from the wisest course of action. I imagine it would take a man of exceptional character, to -"

"Quite so, quite so." Sir Walter waved away the rest of Mrs. Clay's comment, and abruptly changed the subject. "Well, Anne, I suppose you have had your fill of weddings for some time now."

"Hardly, father!" Anne said, with a tentative smile. "After all, Henrietta Musgrove will marry soon, and of course there is my own wedding to prepare."

"Yes, but that shall hardly take place so soon." Sir Walter said. "Why, we shall likely be back in Kellynch before your marriage takes place -"

"Actually, father, we have asked for the banns to be read rather sooner than that, beginning this Sunday." Anne hid her face in her teacup, already sensing her father's reaction would not be one of delight or happy acceptance.

"What do you mean, the banns are to be read for the first time this coming Sunday?" Sir Walter's teacup crashed back onto its saucer. "Here? In Bath?"

"Well, yes." Anne laughed, uncertainly. "Captain Wentworth and I are both staying here, it seemed the most apt location. The wedding could take place as little as three weeks from now."

"Three weeks?!" Sir Elliott's voice rose a clear octave, and Anne winced.

"Really, Anne, you might have given us some warning," Elizabeth said, setting her plate aside. "I don't understand the need to rush."

"It's hardly a rush," Anne said. "Why, it's perfectly proper to begin to plan a wedding once you have agreed to marry. Frederick has already agreed with you, father, on the matter of settlement, and once the banns are read we will have but ninety days in which to hold the ceremony." Anne felt the colour rising in her cheeks. "As it's only to be a small ceremony, I doubt it will be unduly difficult to organise in a short time."

"Only a small ceremony? Anne, you are an Elliot, there are certain proprieties which must be observed. This is particularly true if you are to marry at Bath." A worried frown crossed Sir Walter's face. "After all, there are so many people here who matter. Who, pray, do you plan on inviting to this 'small ceremony'? Your family? Or were we only to hear of it when the announcement appeared in the newspaper after the fact?"

"You exaggerate, father," Anne said, patiently. "You knew Frederick and I intended to marry, and you offered no objection. As I understood, settlement was amicably and easily reached. You cannot think we intend to get engaged and then wait forever to marry."

"Well you managed perfectly well to wait nearly a decade, is a few months' more really such a hardship?"

"A few months more?" Anne's lips tightened. "Father, why delay so long? Nothing in either of our circumstances is set to change, it seems pointless to wait - unless you have a particular reason for a delay -"

"I do, yes in fact, I do." Sir Walter's voice rose in angry staccato. He waved towards one of the servants standing patiently by the door of the dining room. "Pull open those blinds a little wider, would you, that my unobservant daughter might see why now is not the ideal time of year in which to hold a wedding."

The man did as instructed, and Anne sighed, acknowledging the weather beyond their four walls. Rain fell in sheets, and the whole of Bath appeared washed in a blanket of grey.

"You see?" Sir Walter turned back to his breakfast as if the mere fact of the weather had served so adequate a statement in defence of his position that it required little further explanation. The attention to which he gave his digestion indicated the matter was closed.

"Father," Anne began again. "One can hardly hope to control the weather -"

"One can, and one should," He said. "By waiting until a more propitious season to marry. You will marry in June." He paused, turning the matter over in his mind. "In fact, perhaps even June is too soon, for we shall still be in Bath. Next June may be better. By then we shall be back in Somerset and need not worry about offending our cousins the Dalrymples by forcing them to attend."

"Next June?" Anne's heart sank. "You must not be serious. That is more than a year away, father, and -"

"And? What is a year when you have the rest of your lives together? The weather in June is always kinder to one's constitution, and to one's colouring."

Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"Yes, Anne you are so pale that in winter you are practically translucent. At least wait for spring, when the sun might treat you a little more kindly." She paused, regarding her sister unflinchingly. "Though I doubt it will make much difference."