After the Letter - A Persuasion Variation

Part 12

Father wishes us to delay until next June.

Frederick had received Anne's note with interest, though its contents quickly soured his disposition. He knew Anne's father to be unenthusiastic about their marriage, but he had assumed that was influenced by Sir Walter's lack of enthusiasm for anything relating to his middle daughter. The man had bordered on ingratiating when he and Frederick had discussed the settlement. Of course at that point, Sir Walter was likely preoccupied in preserving what little remained of the Elliot estate, and fixing only what Anne was due, no more or no less. Frederick cared little for finances, and even less for Sir Walter's concern over social standing. Let his title and property pass to Mr. William Elliot, he cared little enough about grand country estates. That he and Anne might marry, that was all that had mattered to him. And now the man wished them to wait until next June?

"Next June!" Frederick fumed, casting the letter aside with nothing close to the reverence with which he usually treated correspondence from his betrothed. "Damned Elliot," he muttered. "Will my life always be ruled by people who despise me?"

"Is something the matter, brother?" Sophia asked, looking up from her embroidery and shooting him an inquisitive look. Several sighs and internal storms had so far interrupted her peaceful morning, and she would evidently bear it no longer without explanation.

"Only that the wedding is to be delayed. Again." He snatched up the note and stormed over to his sister, thrusting it before her face. Her eyes scanned it quickly, and she drew her lips together in a line, pausing a moment to gather her thoughts before responding.

"Anne does not say she wishes to delay, dear, only that her father has made a suggestion -"

"Hardly a suggestion. Sir Walter makes pronouncements, Sophy, and they are to be obeyed at all cost." He knit his brows. "It's part of their scheme, I don't doubt it. Delay the wedding until Anne can be persuaded to pull out of it altogether."

"Impossible." Sophia said, folding the letter neatly and passing it back to him. "Anne loves you, she wishes to marry you. I am sure Sir Walter will be willing to compromise on the timings. Why, perhaps she misunderstood him, and he meant this June, which is only a few months away. If you have to wait another few months is it really such a hardship?"

"No." Frederick sighed. If he must, he would wait an eternity to marry Anne, yet he had already waited too long to reach this point, and now their promised wedding seemed to be vanishing into the distance before his very eyes. "No, it is not a hardship, it is an obstacle. And I fear we have already had far too many of those to overcome."

He collapsed from standing onto the sofa opposite her, and scowled at the weather.

"I do not know how you can see well enough to embroider in this ghastly half-light."

"I manage," his sister replied, calmly resuming her work. "And we have been lucky, so far, to be blessed with good weather. A day's rain is little enough penance for a week of sunshine."

Frederick snorted.

"I had arranged for the banns to be read. I suppose I ought to un-arrange it, if now we will be out-waiting the ninety days."

Sophia made a small sound in agreement, but continued to focus her attention on her work.

"You agree that he is being unreasonable, do you not? Anne is a thinking, feeling woman, a rational adult. It's not as if I were trying to run off with his young, impressionable daughter."

"No, you tried that last time," Sophia remarked, with a sly smile. "And it worked badly for both of you."

"I still maintain that was the fault of Sir Walter and Lady Russell. How unfair to have to face them twice in one lifetime." Sighing, he leaned back against the chaise, and his eyes fluttered closed. He had never told Anne of the lone visits he had made to her father and Lady Russell on their behalf, after their first audience had been so badly received. Sir Walter had remained unimpressed at having to discuss the matter again, and without his daughter there to encourage him to mind his tongue he had spoken his mind. His entire attitude towards Frederick had been discouraging, bordering on bleak, but he had never actually said no. He had thrown up obstacles and each one, Frederick had managed to knock aside. Anne's dowry dependent on his commission. A small home while Frederick gained an establishment in the Navy. An engagement while he sailed his first commission, even, and a marriage upon his return. Every suggestion Sir Walter had made, Frederick had countered, until it seemed as if the verbal thrust-and-parry had worked in his favour. Sir Walter so disliked thinking on his feet that he was ill-equipped to do it, especially facing someone younger and cleverer who could answer every concern with a sensible solution. And so, buoyed up by his triumph, Frederick had next sought Lady Russell's council. He knew from Anne that the lady did not approve the match, had seen as much with the look of undisguised dislike that had flickered over her face when he and Anne had gone together to tell her of their intent to marry. Yet he knew that it was Lady Russell, perhaps even more than Anne's father, who would have greatest influence over her decision and future happiness. And so he had taken matters into his own hands and paid Lady Russell a visit alone. His eyebrows knit in an angry frown as he remembered her scathing dismissal. You have quite bewitched my god-daughter, Captain Wentworth, but I myself do not care for looks or wit. You may be a Captain, but you lack refinement, wealth and dependability. Your temper is too abrupt and you have no place in the society Anne has been born into. I have seen too many good women ruined by allying too early with the wrong man. I shall not allow Anne to number among them. And then - worse still - to see Anne herself taking Lady Russell's part in it, denying all the words of affection she had offered him, turning her back on all that they had dreamed their future together might be. Was it a wonder he had given up trying to convince her, and sought solace at sea?

"Of course you do not necessarily need to resign yourself to the inevitable quite yet." Sophia mused, breaking into Frederick's stormy internal discourse.

"What?" he cracked one eye open and looked at her.

"Sir Walter opposes a marriage so soon at Bath, correct?"

Frederick grunted in agreement.

"Well we do have at our disposal, do we not, connections in churches outside of Bath?"

Sophia continued to focus on her embroidery, so that it took a further moment or two for the meaning of her words to become apparent to Frederick. Edward! Of course. His brother had met and loved Anne well when first she and Frederick had met - indeed it had been Edward that introduced them. He was unlikely to be cowed by unhelpful family members, and if he and Anne could marry outside of Bath...perhaps that would be enough to rout Sir Walter and Lady Russell, or at least subvert their latest set of objections. And surely Anne would be grateful for the avoidance of further conflict?

"Sophy, you are a genius." He rose, and dropped a kiss on his sister's cheek. "How far would you say Edward's parish in Shropshire is from here?"

Sophia frowned, running a calculation in her mind. Frederick barely heard her answer, he was so busy piecing his plan together. He would need to reside in Shropshire in order to obtain a marriage licence, but perhaps his brother could assist him in securing a place quickly and easily. It need not be anywhere grand. An ordinary licence would negate the need for the banns to be read, and whilst he would need to wait the time specified for residency in Shropshire, he would not need to wait it in Bath.

"You still ought to tell Anne's family of your plans..." Sophia said. "Not to mention the bride herself -"

"Tis all in hand, Sophy, don't worry about a thing." Frederick said, as he snatched up his hat and jacket. "I shall go now and make arrangements."

He didn't wait for Sophia's farewell before he had swept out of the door, never minding, nor noticing, the inclement weather.