Drawn In

Drawn In

Chapter Six

They had gone downstairs together for a meal that was almost silent. Anne understood why when Mr.. Croft spoke towards the end of it and said he had been thinking. "Really?" she said politely.

"I have been thinking. I dreamt about you last night," he said, as if this was quite an ordinary thing to tell somebody.

Anne's self-command was strong enough not to do anything odd. "Did you?" she asked equally politely, although she wanted him to elaborate, an intention he did not seem to have.

"Yes, it must have been, because I do not know anybody else with your hair colour. I cannot remember what we did, though." He had been trying, but precise recollections eluded him.

"We! One does not tell ladies one has dreamt of doing something with them." Such dreams were likely to be shocking and scandalous, even if Mr.. Croft looked all innocence.

"But I did not tell you what, because I forgot." Henry looked confused.

"Even that, one does not tell," she lectured. Perhaps she ought to explain why. The simplest things had to be explained to Mr.. Croft. "Such dreams are likely to be shocking and scandalous."

"No! It was very --" he began, but then he noted her expression. "It embarrasses you to have appeared in somebody else's dream without knowing what you might have done, but I can tell you that I have no recollection of what you might have done. Why do you suppose it was shocking and scandalous? It did not feel that way."

She did not want to know how it had felt. "I am all too apt to end up in shocking and scandalous situations lately. Eat on."

It occurred to Henry that he was being treated like a little boy, but that he had been allowing it and that it was very likely his own fault. He sighed and ate on.

"What do you do at home?" Anne wondered idly. She did not want a return to silence. "Do you draw all day too?"

"No, we eat, then we run to the beach and dive into the sea, then we eat, then we go --"

"You do a lot of eating," she observed. She had not expected to hear that, given his lack of appetite the day before. "But I assume that in the winter you would not dive into the sea."

"I do not recommend it to people who are not hardened against the cold, but we are. We go in all year round, though not for very long when it is cold. But our bodies --"

She held up her hand and then rubbed it over her eyes when a certain memory presented itself. "No bodies, I beg you."

Henry looked at his plate. It was empty. She could not tell him to eat any more now. "May I be excused?"

"You may." Anne watched him push his chair back and leave the room. She rested her head in her hand and stared at the wall. Now she still had not settled the matter of when he was to leave. Perhaps she should simply let everything happen.

After having lived nearest to Sir Walter for so long, these new male neighbours and their relatives were somewhat of a shock. They did and said things that Sir Walter and Sir Henry would never have contemplated. Yet Anne could not see any particular wickedness in her new acquaintances. They were merely strange.

As Anne was dressing to receive her guests, Mary came to inform her that Admiral Croft had arrived. The maid looked rather flushed. "The admiral has come, madam, but we did not know he was expected to dinner."

"Neither did I. What did the admiral say?"

"I am here. That was all."

It would have been better had he said something suspicious. Anne felt she could never win. He had said so little on purpose. How could Mrs.. Croft live with the man? "Take the admiral to Mr.. Croft and let them go home."

Five minutes later Mary returned to report that both gentlemen had left the house. Anne sighed in relief. Now she could concentrate on her dinner party with the utterly respectable Woods and Coopers.

Fortunately they had no interest in the various Croft brothers at all, but mostly in the recent developments at Kellynch Hall. Anne felt herself more qualified to discuss the marriage of Miss Elliot, although she had a little less to say about the birth of Mrs.. Croft's babies. But news of the happy events had spread through the neighbourhood quite quickly and the Woods and the Coopers knew almost all there was to know. They understood why Mrs.. Croft would not have advertised her condition, but not how Miss Elliot had come to be attached to Captain Wentworth so soon, although he was a very charming and handsome gentleman indeed.

Anne, who felt she had been the means of separating them in the past, was at a loss. She could only say that Miss Elliot was a very superior young woman, which must have played a role.

"Indeed!" said Mrs.. Wood. "And very fortunate in her new relatives. I declare that Mrs.. Croft is one of the most agreeable ladies I have ever met."

"Indeed!" was Mrs.. Cooper's opinion. "Mrs.. Croft is very sweet."

"Indeed!" Mr.. Wood chimed in. "Mrs.. Croft is very pretty."

"Mr.. Wood, what are you saying?" said his wife suspiciously.

"I am merely trying to agree with all of your praise," he laughed. "I assure you I have no opinions on her looks whatsoever."

"Oh, speaking of looks! Lady Russell, are you in a new gown? It looks very good on you," Mrs.. Wood commented. "The colour is most becoming."

Anne looked a little bemused. Sir Walter had always told her the opposite and she felt at liberty to wear it now he was no longer here to see it. He had always considered her too pale for this colour and so she had never worn it in Kellynch after she had tired of his comments.

"No talk of gowns, if you please," requested Mr.. Wood, who was the more talkative of the two gentlemen. "May we keep the conversation rational?"

"And how do you feel now that Miss Anne is married? She was almost a daughter to you," Mrs.. Cooper asked.

It was not quite the sort of rationality Mr.. Wood would have liked, but at least it had nothing to do with gowns and the topic was not brought up by his wife. He said nothing.

"It was difficult," Anne said with a smile. "But I have been persuaded that it is a good match."

That she had needed persuasion surprised the others. They only knew Captain Wentworth as a charming and wealthy man, an excellent match for a Miss Elliot who was getting on in years.

"Have you any news of Sir Walter?" Mr.. Wood thought it best to ask a question himself, before the ladies brought up another uninteresting subject.

"Not recently, I am afraid. Perhaps no new people of distinction have arrived in Bath, or he thinks I shall see for myself when I go there. Captain and Mrs.. Wentworth have gone to Bath now, so they will bring some news when they return." She supposed they would come back before she left.

She reflected on the conversation when she was preparing herself for bed. Her guests had not dared to ask any critical questions about Sir Walter. There were moments when those would have been logical and expected, but the questions had not been asked. She was known to be a close friend, of course. Yet she knew very well they would have speculated whether Sir Walter was aware of his daughter's wedding plans. She hoped she had not appeared to be making too many excuses for the man.

Really, men were so...

Inadequate and incompetent persons they were. When she had decided that she could be easy. Jenny helped her out of her stays and then she could be even more relaxed. "Do I have wrinkles?" she wondered.

"Not many, madam."

Not many. That was quite uplifting. "You know what Sir Walter thinks of wrinkles."

Jenny grimaced. She knew indeed. "He has condescended to speak to me about them, but I have not heeded him. And his jars!"

"What of them?" Anne asked suspiciously. She was rather taken aback by the fact that Sir Walter had spoken to Jenny on the sly. The man was truly obsessed. She had not been exaggerating to Mr.. Croft.

She grinned. "I gave them to Cook, but I have not noticed a marked improvement in her face. She did like the empty jars, though, for putting things into them."

"Jenny, have you been withholding gifts from Sir Walter?"

"They were not gifts, madam, but..." She paused to think. "Suggestions as to how I should do my work, perhaps?"

"Ah." Anne began to see why the man had displayed a greater interest in her face lately. He must have been looking for effects of the cream. "Well, you did well. He saw improvements where there could be none, because I have never smeared anything on my face. How many jars would he give to Mrs.. Croft's lady in waiting?" Mrs.. Croft had more wrinkles.

"She has no such person," Jenny replied. "I made inquiries when they moved in, but the servants at the Hall believe she dresses herself or the admiral helps her."

"The admiral. Naturally. He appears to be very useful. Does he have his own man?" She supposed not.

"No, madam. He has Mrs.. Croft, I imagine."

And quite obviously Mr.. Croft -- why did she think of him? -- had himself.

Chapter Seven

Henry had gone home with James, who was unusually quiet. It prompted his brother to ask him if something was amiss. The absence of teasing comments and questions was odd.

"I feel rotten," James admitted. "The moment we climb into bed -- finally -- one of the girls starts crying and one of us has to get out again. I never could have fathomed it would lead to so much work when she seduced me."

"I have no wish to hear your tales of seduction," Henry warned fearfully.

"I have only been seduced twice. There is not much to tell. By Sophia in both cases, in case you were wondering."

"Oh. Are you tired?" Henry asked in an attempt to get away from the topic of seduction, about which he was content to know very little.

"What a question. I hardly get any sleep. Were we ever this much trouble, do you think?"

"I still am, it seems," Henry said with a hint of dissatisfaction. He was not certain he enjoyed being treated like a little boy, although he supposed it was mostly his own fault.

"Have you troubled the woman again today?"

"No, I think not. She even ordered me to eat with her, so she must have been pleased with my conduct. I do not really know. I hardly saw her, except when she came to tell me to eat. I cannot have been so much trouble then, can I?" he wondered.

"When will your drawings be finished?" James asked.

"In a few days, I expect." But he did not know whether that was something to look forward to. Being looked after by Lady Russell and her maids was surprisingly agreeable. "When are we due to leave again, do you know?"

"When Father thinks it is time, but in the meantime I suspect him of being rather charmed by his granddaughters." He sounded pleased.

Henry realised guiltily that because of his drawing expeditions, he had hardly taken any interest in his little nieces so far. They were rarely taken downstairs in the evening and he had no idea what was being done to them upstairs, or even what they did during the day.

As far as he could tell, his brother was delighted with his small daughters, but what precisely delighted James he could not say. They could do so very little compared to newborn animals, yet their parents were disproportionately pleased with them, Henry mused. Perhaps it was bringing a little copy of oneself into the world, but even that reasoning did not hold -- two little girls were certainly not exact copies of James, whereas two little calves stood a far greater chance of being a good copy of just about any cow in the field.

He occupied himself with such thoughts until he reached his room at the Hall and he realised he could just as easily have asked James why he was so happy with his girls, but now it was too late.

There was no opportunity for that at dinner, because James did not appear and Sophia said he was ill.

"He must have caught it from Henry Alexander," said Mr.. Croft.

Henry had almost forgotten he was supposedly ill a few days ago and he looked confused until he remembered it. He had best nod and look suitably guilty for passing on his illness.

"You must not let him near the girls, Sophia," her father-in-law ordered.

The next morning Henry was summoned into the nursery, or rather, he was requested to go there by the nursery maid. He entered with trepidation, knowing enough about babies to know they could become quite dirty. They were not dirty, however, but drinking. "Sophia!" he blurted out. "Why do you want me to see that?"

"Surely it is not as bad as what you showed to Lady Russell," she shot back. "Is the privilege of showing something all yours?"

He had no answer to that and realised that in truth he could see very little, except two babies in odd positions. But he knew what they were doing.

"I called you here because James will not be able to collect you today," Sophia spoke. "Perhaps you should inform Lady Russell of this when you arrive, so that she may remind you of the time when it is time to go home, or arrange for somebody else to send you home if she has obligations elsewhere."

"What? Yes," he said distractedly. "You are not very different from a cow."

"Thank you, Henry. You understand exactly how I feel, I see."

"Are you now upset?" He had not wanted to upset her at all and now that he thought about it, his remark might have come across as disrespectful.

"No, if you must compare me to a cow to understand what I am doing, so be it. Did you hear what I told you about James?"

"He is ill and he will not come for me. I am sure I could remember the time on my own." He frowned. He was not as simple as some of these women seemed to think.

"I am glad." She glanced at her babies for a second. "You must think me unnecessarily concerned, but you will go away, whereas she and I shall be neighbours for a good while longer."

Henry felt extraordinarily pleased with himself when he wrote Lady Russell a small note to inform her that James was not coming. He had arrived at the Lodge to find that the mistress of the house was out, but needing to get the message off his chest, he had written it down.

After this he could work in peace, although he was occasionally disturbed by cleaning maids until Lady Russell returned.

Anne thought there was something intriguing about watching him draw and she sat observing him. She had been given his note, an intriguingly short one, but it had served its purpose. She had Mary serve her tea in the library where Mr.. Croft was working, but although Mary walked on tiptoe, she did no such thing. He had not asked for that and she reasoned that he would have been so direct as to ask for it, considering what else he dared to say.

There was something comfortable about not being alone, yet not being required to talk.

Mrs.. Croft was announced when Anne was just contemplating a reminder to Mr.. Croft about his note that had said he would remember the time on his own. But she felt less guilty about her lack of trust when Mrs.. Croft appeared not to have had any either.

"What a frightfully dowdy cap you have on, Lady Russell," Mrs.. Croft said after the ladies had greeted each other. "Men prefer hair."

Anne had donned the cap so there would be no more dreams about her, but she could not say that. If Mr.. Croft was anything like his brother, however, he might indeed prefer her to shake her head to let her hair run wild. She was startled by this comment nonetheless. "But I do not care what men think. Why should I?" She could say that; he would not hear her.

"Did Sir Walter never make any comments on it?"

"I know what not to wear in his presence." He would indeed have commented on it had he seen it. He was always making comments on caps and clothes.

"Does he have such an influence on you? Did he ever suggest you marry him?"

"A very unreasonable application it was," Anne said sternly. She wondered how Mrs.. Croft knew. "I lived near enough to help with the girls. There was no need to take it further."

"Indeed. Oh, come here. Let me fix it."

Anne was too taken aback to protest. She felt how her cap was removed and then her hair was loosened from its bun. It was redone in a particularly youthful fashion, or so she felt, but Mrs.. Croft looked very pleased with the result.

"There," she praised. "That is lovely. Did Henry ever tell you James would not come for him because he is ill?"

"He left me a note to that effect," Anne said weakly. Her hand touched her hair.

"It will not come down. Trust me. It is weatherproof. I became quite the expert on board. James preferred to see my hair, but it always got very tangled in the wind."

It was Sophia who had come to collect him, Henry noticed suddenly. She had been chattering with Lady Russell in the same room and he had not even noticed. He had seen a woman earlier, but on account of her cap he had assumed she was a maid. Now he thought she might have been Lady Russell all along, although he definitely preferred the look of her now.

"Henry," Sophia called out to him. "Rupert was supposed to come and get you, but he hid himself. I had to go myself and I do not have much time because the girls will want to nurse soon. Could you come with me instantly?"

"Yes, I think so." As he tidied away his pencils and sketchbooks, he saw that Sophia said something to Lady Russell, which resulted in the latter joining them as they left the room. It did not stop there. She also joined them as they left the house. That was very curious.

"Lady Russell is joining us for dinner," Sophia informed him. "I have just invited her. James is ill, you see, and I should have no other decent company."

Anne had indeed been invited for that reason and she had accepted, having even less company at home than Mrs.. Croft. It was at such short notice that she apologised to her staff, but one of their number was going to be pleased with the dinner she would have eaten.

She caught Mr.. Croft's glance at her and -- very ridiculously -- she wondered what he thought of her hair. Mrs.. Croft said men preferred hair to dowdy caps. Was that true? "And what do you think of my hair?" she inquired.

He started. "I beg your pardon?"

"Mrs.. Croft thinks caps are dowdy."

"Mrs.. Croft thinks I am dowdy too," he replied with a shrug, obviously uncertain as to what he ought to think.

"Henry, you are not! But did you not think that the cap Lady Russell was wearing was most unbecoming?"

He did not want to give his opinion, not in the least because Lady Russell herself looked rather taken aback at hearing his opinion being solicited. "I have no eye for --"

"Liar," Sophia said good-naturedly. "If you had no eye for prettiness you would not be so good at drawing all the prettiness at Kellynch Lodge."

"Very well," he said testily. "Though it will undoubtedly offend someone, I thought she was a servant taking a break."

"And now?"

"Now she looks like you with red hair." There. That was a noncommittal answer and he was rather proud of his find.

Chapter Eight

"Are you not as tired as James?" Henry asked Sophia. He remembered walking here yesterday with his brother and hearing about sleepless nights. Sophia must be having them as well. She must be tired.

"Yes, but I cannot give in to it. Women cannot. Men may be ill whenever they choose, but I must keep going because I have two little girls to feed."

Whether he agreed with her or not, he did not say, but he took her arm. He was not merely a little boy who had to be fetched because he could not keep track of the time; he could also be a kind brother. James had not complained without reason -- he was now ill -- and Sophia was right that she could not fall ill. She had her two little girls.

"You have never done that before," she said in amazement.

"You have never before had to feed two little girls," he retorted. She should not treat it as something extraordinary that he could remember conversations and draw conclusions.

Anne, who was still dwelling on looking like Mrs.. Croft with red hair, which was absolutely not the case, looked a little surprised by the move. She was fairly certain that Mr.. Croft had never before offered his arm to a lady, given how he had not precisely offered it, but rather imposed it.

She pondered what might have caused this change. Perhaps Mrs.. Croft had never before been fatigued while her husband was ill. She did not strike Anne as a lady who tired easily. That was a more logical explanation than thinking Mr.. Croft was developing a particular awareness.

"Henry, go upstairs," Sophia ordered him when they entered the Hall.

He obeyed because he was not sure what else he should do. He had forgotten the time once again after being so certain that he would not and that meant he had no idea what time it was at present. He might be required to come to dinner very soon.

"My brother Frederick has returned to add to the count of useless men," Mrs.. Croft observed when she peeked into a room. "Well," she said to Anne when she had closed the door again very quietly. "I am not sure whether I should leave you here with James and Frederick. Perhaps you would prefer to come upstairs with me. I must nurse the twins."

"I do not know what would be more distressing," Anne replied doubtfully. She was not very equal to the sight of nursing, especially not if it was someone she did not know very well. She would not like to be seen in such a position herself.

"This." Mrs.. Croft indicated the door. She took her neighbour's arm and led her towards the stairs. "It would have been all right before you allowed Henry into your house, but now..."

"I never knew he would not be finished in a day!" she protested, feeling she should not be blamed at all for anything. "I thought it would be a few hours and no more. How could I first say yes and then no? It would have been impolite and --"

"Wait! Talk to James. Tell him so. He would stop making comments to me if you did." Mrs.. Croft turned and led her back.

Anne froze. "Comments?" She did not want to imagine what those could be. Comments from the admiral and showings of skin from the captain! "And you would leave me with both of them?"

Mrs.. Croft opened the door. "Frederick, go upstairs." She gently pushed Anne into the room. "Here, James, I have brought you new company. Frederick? Come and tell me about Bath."

Although it took an exchange of arguments between brother and sister, the switch was eventually made and Anne found herself sitting stiffly on her seat, anxiously anticipating Admiral Croft's first question. She did not trust him an inch and he was not looking ill at all.

"A scandalous revelation from you would cure me," said Admiral Croft.

"I am sorry to disappoint you," Anne said stiffly. She should not be so afraid of what he might say and she believed he looked so amused because he knew.

"Nothing scandalous or no revelations at all?"

"Admiral, Mrs.. Croft sent me here to tell you the truth, so you would stop making comments to her." She spoke in a very serious tone, which might perhaps convince him.

"I know the truth," he said with a confident grin. "I suspect my brother is somewhat like me."

She looked a little suspicious, because she did not instantly see how they were similar other than perhaps in looks. "As I do not know what you are like, such a remark has no meaning to me."

He smiled. "Henry would do nothing to you. However, would you do anything to him?"

She gasped. How could he think she would do anything to his brother? She was not that kind of woman. "Admiral! How dare you insinuate that I am a sort of..."

The admiral was unperturbed. "I insinuate nothing. I asked. Shall I tell you about my wedding?"

"Admiral, no. The topic of weddings is quite irrelevant to the current situation." It had nothing to do with anything, as far as she was concerned.

"The topic of Croft men is not."

"Your brother has been making sketches of the interior of my house. I do not see why this excites you so. Or him, for that matter," she added under her breath. "I thought he might be there for a few hours, not a few days. And as I said to Mrs.. Croft, how could I allow a day, but not two? And then two days, but not three?"

"That is a grave dilemma indeed, madam," he said with a nod. "It would have been very impolite to tell him to go away in the middle of a sketch you first allowed him to start. But it puzzles me somewhat that a lady of your good breeding allowed him to begin new sketches after he was so scandalous as to stay the night."

Anne's cheeks became slightly less pale. "He apologised and assured me it was an error that would not occur again."

"And his entire family had to be involved in making sure it did not, because obviously he could not leave you without being forced to." It would have happened again if they had not fetched Henry from the Lodge each day, as they both knew.

"He could not leave his sketchbook," she said with a frustrated hiss. "Do you think I sat with him all day? I had better things to do." She had only sat with him today and only for a part of the day, but she would never tell the admiral so. Sitting with Mr.. Croft for a mere minute would excite his brother.

"Why has he not yet finished his drawings? Your house never struck me as overly large."

Anne sighed, but at least the drawings were a safe subject. "It is because he insists on making about ten versions of everything. The staircase as it is, the staircase as it might also be, and so forth."

"Does he also ask you to pose as a model on your staircases?"

She stared, her eyes huge. "Pose as a model?"

"That is a pity. Perhaps you do not colour well with the background. It would have been amusing, though. To me. It must be horrendous to be draped in one attitude for so long."

After this peculiar exchange, Anne observed Admiral Croft for a while without speaking. She could hardly tell him directly that she considered him rather strange, yet she could not think anything else of him. He seemed to be able to read her mind, because sometimes he gave her a smile that conveyed his amusement at her expression. They sat there in silence, but to her surprise it was not too uncomfortable. He did not seem to think her as strange as she thought him.

She was nevertheless glad when old Mr.. Croft appeared with one of his younger sons, but they were as little inclined to speak to her as she was to them. She wondered if they too suspected her of doing all manner of things with Henry Croft, or if they were perhaps blessed with the same obliviousness. In that case they would not even know where Henry went each day, except perhaps for the brother who had come to collect him. It was difficult to tell if they regarded her neither suspiciously nor indifferently, but simply not at all.

They would not see her look, so she used the opportunity to study them more closely. Not bad looking boys, Mrs.. Croft had called them. They were not boys, but they were not bad looking. Mrs.. Croft might however be appalled to hear her husband was not the best looking of the lot. She seemed to hold a different opinion.

None of them were fashionable. Clearly they did not keep up with that, but they were fortunate that gentlemen's fashions were not subject to so many variations as those for ladies.

"They seem to be well-behaved little girls, James Frederick," Mr.. Croft said all of a sudden.

"Thank you," said the admiral. "Does that mean we may bring them if we visit you? We cannot consider visiting without them."

"Yes, I suppose we could grow used to it."

"One does grow used to them indeed. Women are quite ordinary people. I always thought Sophia was the only one, but with all the new sisters I acquired I must allow for more exceptions."

Anne did not like that sly glance at her. She was not his new sister, but perhaps he meant she was an ordinary person. It could be. She was. But with him one never knew.

"But we have no nursery," said his father. "They must share with Sophia. Is that possible?"

"With Sophia and me."

Old Mr.. Croft was not yet reconciled to such an arrangement. He looked doubtful. "We shall not discuss this here, James."

The admiral glanced around. Anne gave him a steady look in return when she suspected he was searching for someone to support his wish to share a room with his wife. As far as she was concerned that was a family matter and she was not family. Besides, it was not a topic to raise in company.

He spoke when nobody else did. "I fear I am outnumbered when I comes to opinions on sharing and nobody will support my wishes. Perhaps we should indeed postpone the discussion until I have gathered more proponents around me. Unless you wish to hear my arguments in favour of sharing?"

"We shall not discuss this here," his father repeated.

"Very well, then I only beg you to ask yourself whether you think the Navy fits out ships to provide captains' or admirals' wives with a cabin or even a deck of their own. And you do not know the grand accommodations where I was living at the time of my wedding. Considering that we had to share the only chair, what else do you think we had to share?" he was vexed enough to ask.

"James Frederick, enough."

The subject was dropped, although Anne thought about it some more. Nobody could tell that behind her polite expression she was in fact imagining what sleeping arrangements on board must be like. The admiral had a good point. The Navy would not have counted on Mrs.. Croft and she must have stayed with her husband. They could have realised this without his assistance.

She would previously have agreed with old Mr.. Croft, but it was quite clear to her now that a couple who had always shared would not so easily separate. She had enough knowledge of them to know they were very good friends, even if they were husband and wife. The old man was separating friends and they did not like it.

Two more brothers appeared and the admiral was forced to swing his legs off the sofa to make room for them, because they did not want to sit next to Anne. He folded the blanket under which he had been lying and appeared to have recovered. She felt some satisfaction at never having him thought very ill. This proved it.

"You are not going to spit again, are you?" asked the nearest brother suspiciously.

"Not until after dinner."

Henry had been forced to sit on the same sofa as Lady Russell. He had seen everybody gravitate towards the other sofas, making it very impolite if he did the same. In truth, the question of politeness did not occur to him at first, but he made his decision based on the fact that it would look very odd and badly distributed if all gentlemen were on two sofas and the lady occupied one on her own. He sat down on the other end and wondered what they were having for dinner.

Captain and Mrs.. Wentworth arrived at the same time as the last brother, which made the party complete save for Mrs.. Croft. Mrs.. Wentworth sat by Anne instantly. The respectful distance Mr.. Croft had kept was still enough of a space for her to occupy. "I spoke to my father," she said. "But he admitted that he already knew I was married. I did not ask why he had not written back."

"Sometimes it is best not to," Anne agreed. She was curious, although her goddaughter spoke so calmly that there could not have been many problems, yet also not too much affection. "What else did he say?"

"We attended another of his parties and they behaved as if they had always known. I thought everybody was very civil, so I think it is all settled and accepted. I wore Mama's jewellery."

"Yours now. You will have looked very pretty." Anne knew how prettiness would have made an impression on Sir Walter and his daughter's good looks would only have been improved by her happiness at being able to wear her mother's gift, even if nobody else would have noticed it.

"Frederick thought so. And he looked very handsome himself."

"A doubly good impression. Did he not..." She did not know how to ask. Perhaps she should not even be having such thoughts.

"Take his clothes off?" Mrs.. Wentworth whispered. "No, of course not."

"It does not appear to be a given in certain circles," Anne muttered. "But I am glad he did not use that to convince your father of how much he loved you. I am not certain the message would have been understood."

"But you understood, did you not?"

She would rather be honest, even if Mrs.. Wentworth trusting expression made her feel inadequate. "I must not be such an astute judge of character, Anne. Only because you told me. So you think it was all well?"

"Yes," Mrs.. Wentworth said slowly. "It would have been nicer had he been titled, but he will do. I am more impressed with how he treats me, but such a consideration cannot be important to anyone else."

"It is to me. I am happy to hear he treats you well. I hope he continues to do so." She would almost smile at Captain Wentworth, but he would think it odd. She settled for smiling at his wife.

"And what has happened here in the meantime?"

"I made a few calls here and there," Anne said vaguely, although she deliberately ignored young Anne's meaningful smile. "The usual, to find out what is happening with everybody, but there does not seem to be much going on in the neighbourhood other than people falling off kitchen chairs."

"Only here."

Chapter Nine

Henry had not been too pleased that Mrs. Wentworth had sat down next to him -- she was too close -- but he realised full well there was nowhere else she could sit. She spoke to Lady Russell for a while and he found himself listening. In spite of having listened to their conversation coming to an end, he was still surprised when Mrs. Wentworth turned to address him.

"Are your drawings coming along nicely, Mr. Croft?"

He looked startled. "Y-Y-Yes, thank you."

"I hope you picked up some good ideas for your new house."

"Yes, thank you." He was still too startled to say more or to elaborate on what he might have picked up, even if Mrs. Wentworth was a very kind young lady with whom he had conversed before. She had even seen the house being built, so she must be interested.

"Now that somebody made a start with creating a next generation of Crofts who might live there eventually."

"A start?" he inquired. Mrs. Wentworth certainly spoke as if she expected more children to follow, but he did not see where those would come from. "He tells me there will not be more from him -- and there certainly will not be any from me."

"But you have three more brothers. You could not all be alike. I have two sisters, but we do not resemble each other much."

He gave her a very serious look. "In this matter, Mrs. Wentworth, we have all been taught the same principles and such teachings will, I believe, overrule any differences in character."

"But the admiral..."

Yes, James had married, but that did not mean he was different from the rest. "Inexplicable," said Henry.

"But when two people..." she tried.

"No, no," he said, almost smiling. "You cannot explain it to me if even he could not. You may depend on my having asked." He understood it better now, but not completely. The suddenness, no, that could not be explained.

"Quite often there is no proper answer to be obtained from him. Are you also going to draw the interior of this house?"

Henry looked a little cautious because he did not know why she switched topics so abruptly. "An ostentatious staircase would look out of place in a smaller house."

She was amused. "Is our main staircase ostentatious?"

He had forgotten that she was the daughter of the house. "I am sorry. That is not what I meant to imply. I only meant to say that this house is far larger than what I am having built."

"That is true. It cannot be all staircase."

He was glad she understood and he gave her a smile.

Anne was pleased to see that Captain Wentworth asked his wife to play some music after dinner. She had very agreeably spoken to Mrs. Croft, but the other conversation at the dinner table had solely been between the admiral and the captain, dealing with Bath and their mutual acquaintances. It was not bad at the dinner table, but without any food to concentrate on for the others it might become boring. Besides, who would speak if they had exhausted their topic? None of the Crofts were likely candidates. If there was music, they might all be spared awkward silences.

She enjoyed the music, but Mrs. Croft, who had spoken so rationally at dinner, was quite irrationally involved with the admiral in the back of the room. Anne reflected that while Mrs. Croft had enough politeness to remember she had invited her guest to have decent company, she could not deny her greater friendship with her husband.

Even ahead of her was a similar scene, with the captain being rather affectionate towards Mrs. Wentworth, although there it was less noticeable. They still had those reservations that they would undoubtedly soon lose in this household.

Then it was time for one of the younger brothers to try his hand at playing some music and the admiral moved closer to Anne. "You walked?"

"I did," she replied, knowing he must be thinking of the dreadful weather. There was indeed no walking back like this. She did not think she would be allowed to walk back unescorted, but who would volunteer? And if someone volunteered, would he like to walk back to the Hall?

Admiral Croft was apparently not thinking of letting her walk at all. "Unless you take pity on the coachman and the horses, madam, you could be taken home dryly."

"I first assumed you intended for someone to accompany me who could then not leave, but I see you would think it equally amusing if I remained here." The man could not mind some honesty.

"Such an opinion of yourself!" he laughed.

"You think only of amusement."

"I leave the choice with you. Ask me if you need a room or a carriage. Sophia or Anne could probably lend you the necessary things if you choose to stay."

Although she was still afraid of him, Anne realised she was not being very kind. "I appreciate the offer, Admiral. I should not suspect you of ulterior motives so quickly." She walked to the window and looked out. A good soul would not insist in getting a coachman and some stable hands soaked. She had always been a good soul.

But she was not sure what to think of Admiral Croft. Mrs. Croft thought highly of him and his morals -- despite the cuddling she had seen in the mirror he must generally be well-behaved -- but not of his tongue. She turned and saw him say something to Mrs. Wentworth, who giggled. This made her suspicious again.

"Why did you giggle?" she asked when her goddaughter joined her.

"Because he asked me to rephrase the offer in less suspicious terms. The weather is dreadful. I think you should stay."

The admiral was not responsible for the weather, she knew, but it was awfully convenient that it should force her to stay. Yet when she pondered the matter, she did not know which interesting things might happen if she stayed. Very likely nothing would happen that could amuse the admiral at all. Anne sighed. "Where is Mrs. Croft?"

"She is feeding her babies."

"Again? She already fed them when we arrived here."

Mrs. Wentworth smiled. "But that is already a few hours ago."

Henry had been trying to persuade his father to setting up one of the rooms in the new house as a nursery, but his father was not yet convinced of the necessity. "The females can all sleep in the same room," said Mr. Croft. "Your brother has put you up to bringing this up, has he not?"

"The females," said Henry, finding he did not like the description. "By which you mean Sophia and ... er..." He hoped he had their names right. "Catherine and er...Margaret."

"That is correct. They can all sleep in the same room if they visit, so Sophia may tend to them."

"But Sophia is, I think, not the only one who tends to them," Henry said cautiously. "There is James as well."

"James?" Mr. Croft did not understand. "What is your point, Henry Alexander? I refuse to accept that my son, who has commanded ships and fleets, would stoop to doing the work of a nursery maid."

"Well, if you were a sad little girl, would you prefer to be held by a maid or by your father?" Henry retorted. He got up and walked away, because he did not like such confrontations. He had not often contradicted his father before.

Not wanting to remain in the room, he went upstairs and decided to pay a visit to the nursery. He had been there that morning and it was less daunting to go there a second time. Armed with a small notebook and pencil he had picked up from his room, he entered. He hoped Sophia had not gone to bed yet. It had taken him a while to find the notebook, because all of his drawing materials were currently at the Lodge.

"Look, Catherine! It is Uncle Henry!" Sophia turned a small face in his direction. She was holding one of the girls and the nursery maid was busy with the other.

He had never before been called Uncle Henry, so he looked a little hesitant. "Does she know me?"

"Not yet, but if we never start calling you Uncle Henry, she never will."

"Which one is she? Oh. You called her Catherine. I am sorry. Am I supposed to be able to tell the difference?" He studied the little girl. She was quiet and she was not looking at him at all.

"No, not yet."

"Good," he said in relief. "I came to see what a nursery was like."

"This is not, in fact, a proper nursery," said Sophia. "But Sir Walter's ... something or other. The Elliot nursery was quite out of the way. As you see, however, it does not matter in the least if they are as small as this. All that matters is that we are nearby. Perhaps if they are older we shall not want them next door anymore."

"And you will certainly not want them in your room. I am going to ignore Father's wishes on this point."

"Oh, Henry!" she said with a pleased chuckle. "What a naughty thing to do."

"It will be difficult," he said, sitting down at the table. He could not promise her anything definitive. "Because nothing will change with regard to the number of rooms. The structure is close to being completed. The only things I can still influence are what the rooms will look like and which furniture goes to which room. But if there is to be a room for the children, I can decide not to have it filled with a very large bed."

She gave him a thoughtful look. "Will the servants listen to you or to your father?"

"That is the difficulty. I am not yet the master of the house, but he seems to leave more and more to me." He looked around the room and made a quick sketch of it. "You do not seem to need very specific things in this room. Other than their ... er ... baskets it is not different from a normal room."

"It must be warm."

Henry wrote that down. "I shall see what I can do."

"Thank you, Henry. We do not mean to provoke, you see. We -- I simply do not understand his opinions on the matter."

"I have never really analysed them," he confessed. "But they become more incomprehensible as I see more of ... er ... women. Of their behaviour, I mean," he said hastily in case she received the wrong impression. "I shall go to bed now. Good night."

"Good night and thank you," Sophia said with a chuckle.

He felt proud of himself as he left the room. He would try to set up a nursery in the new house, even if it was only going to be used when James visited. Now that James was ashore, it might be once a year. If the room was not used as a nursery, it might even be used for guests who would sleep on the floor or on a sofa bed as he had seen in here. He noted that down. Sofa bed. It was for the nursery maid, he supposed.

He heard a sound and he looked to see from where it had originated. It was Lady Russell and she stood in a doorway some distance down the corridor. Perhaps she had indeed called his name.

"I have no bell. I need a maid. And I need a nightgown."

Henry stared at her. Why did she think he was the best person to ask these questions? Was he now supposed to find a bell or a maid? Or a nightgown? She seemed to be staying here then, but it puzzled him why she had not asked these questions of the person who had shown her to her room. He might be able to find a bell or a maid, but not a nightgown. If there was any way around talking to a maid, he would prefer that. However, if he rang the bell in his room, someone would come to his room and not to Lady Russell's. He did not know what to do.

Chapter Ten

Anne had realised something rather annoying when she searched her room at bedtime. She had to step out and ran into Henry Croft, who seemed to be headed for his room, but not without first taking in some constructional details. He gave her a startled look when she made a sound.

"I have no bell," she informed him. Since she had come to live so near she had never stayed at the Hall and what with the many guests it made sense that she should be put in a never-used room that had no bell, but it was very inconvenient for a lady who could not undress herself. "I need a maid. And I need a nightgown."

Mrs. Wentworth had kindly supplied her with one, but when Anne had unfolded it, it looked far too small. One could not reach the age of eight-and-forty without becoming a little bigger than Mrs. Wentworth, she had thought defensively. Noting that a garment was too small was never pleasant for a woman who did not think she was terribly large.

Henry Croft merely stared, as if he did not understand that it was in fact a request to get her what she required.

"Mr. Croft, would you be so kind?" she had to ask. To this he nodded uncertainly and she returned to her room.

Henry was not at all pleased with the request. He had gone to his room because he had not known where else to go, but there was neither a maid nor a nightgown there. He did have a bell, but instead of ringing it, he watched it fearfully.

He had nodded and therefore consented to being so kind as to do something for her. That was a problem, because he could not do as she wished. For a while he sat thinking, although he was only thinking he could not do anything. Then he got up and rummaged through his cupboard. A nightgown he could not provide, but he did have something else. Why could it not suffice? James slept in something similar.

After a few minutes only, there was a knock. Anne went to open the door when nobody came in and instead of the expected maid, she found Mr. Croft holding out a folded item of clothing -- two items, in fact. "Is the maid coming?" she wondered. It was all useless without a maid.

"Maid?" he asked, as if she ought to know that he would never approach one because they were also female.

She gave him an exasperated look. It was only logical that she would need a maid. "I asked you to send me a maid for a reason. I cannot undress myself."

That seemed to amaze him and his uncertainty turned into incredulity. "Why not? How dare you think me useless!"

Such a comment made her speechless, not in the least because he might have a tiny point that she had never considered before -- and she was not aware that she had ever called him useless to his face. It was not until after a few moments that she could speak again. He must be more perceptive than she had assumed. "I take it you know nothing about female underclothing."

"Thankfully not," he replied. "I did not even know it existed."

Anne looked horrified. "You must be trying to provoke me. I do not mean to scandalise you, but I need a maid, as a good part of it fastens in the back, where I cannot reach."

"Why? That is wholly impractical."

"Such an observation does not help me undress," she said, almost snapping.

"If you cannot, you must sleep in your clothes," Henry said with a shrug. He was not going to get a maid for something as silly as this. He could truly not imagine that underclothing was made in such a way as to make it impossible for the wearer to remove on her own.

"I cannot." She tapped something hard under her gown. "This is highly uncomfortable. I cannot lie down in it."

"Why not?"

"Because its purpose is to keep a woman upright!" If she ever managed to lie down, she would not be able to turn over. She would rather have her stays removed before going to bed.

Henry sighed. "I shall never understand women and fortunately I have no desire to do so. Here, take this." He held out the clothes.

She took them and examined them. There was seemingly no end to his strangeness. "Mr. Croft, these look like trousers and a shirt, not a nightgown."

He gave her an infuriatingly calm look. "I told you I do not wear nightgowns and I had received the impression that you do not approve of wearing nothing at all."

She gripped the doorpost to remain steady. That image was one she would rather not recall. "And as such you want me to wear trousers? That is as good as nothing."

"As good as nothing? So you will faint again because I am wearing as good as nothing?" He took a step back, looking anxious. "I do not care what you will wear. I shall not be there to see it. In case you wish to be covered up, I can only provide you with this."

His logic was astounding as usual. Anne stared at the pair of trousers in her hands and wished to scream. "You will not call a maid?"

"No, I will not." Henry suddenly felt very strong. He would not do it. "If you will excuse me now..."

"No, I will not. I demand that you help me." Why could the man not simply call a maid? If he could talk to her maids, he could talk to the maids here.

She was well on her way to vexing him, he thought, and it brought him to an interesting mood. He stepped into the room. "As you wish, madam."

"What are you doing here?" She looked afraid.

"Goodness, you are illogical," Henry observed. "How about helping you, as you demanded?"

"Helping." She watched him close the door. Good god! He really meant to help her. She took a step backwards.

"Do as much yourself as you are able to do," he said, taking a step forwards. "I shall take care of the rest."

"Oh do not kiss me!" she exclaimed, pulling back.

"Why not?" He had put his arms around her, although he wondered why. It felt reassuring, but evidently not to his victim.

"I was led to believe you were innocent."

"I am."

"Why do you not practise kissing on a young woman, Mr. Croft? I am too old for these things." She tried to lean back. Perhaps she should scream, but he would -- rightly -- point out that she had ordered him to help her. She was to blame for this situation herself.

Henry observed that the contraption that served to keep a woman upright was doing its work. She could only tilt her head back a little. "If your age is all that is preventing you, I can assure you --"

"Do not," she said without hesitation, although she was curious about his assurances.

"Do you think my brother would give it up in two years?" he asked reflectively. Age had very little to do with it.

"He has a young wife. You have none."

"It is not my intention to kiss you." Why did she think so? He had only wanted to stop her from walking away. "Are you older than Sophia then?"

She stared. "I should think so!"

"But you are not certain?"

"She -- she has babies!"

"Oh. Well, that either means she is young -- or it means your argument about age is invalid."

She tilted her head back further when she realised it had come up a little. She must keep as much of herself out of reach as possible. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. You object to very little. Why do you object now?" Henry was genuinely curious. She spoke of objecting, but in reality she allowed very much. "When I am not doing anything."

"I cannot believe you equate drawing with fondling women. This conversation is ridiculous," she decided.

"Yes," he agreed. He was not fondling women at all. He had a very loose hold on one's shoulders. "Does it happen between men and women as a rule, something like this?"

"I cannot believe you expect me to have any experience with it!"

"Who is the widow here!" he exclaimed.

"Will you let me go?"

"Certainly," he said instantly and complied with her request. "But you had not asked me that before. You had only asked not to be kissed."

Anne gasped. It was, as far as she could remember, completely true. "D-D-Do you mean that if I had asked you straightaway, you would have released me?"

"Yes. But you did not ask."

She closed her eyes and moaned. "And everything else I said did not give you the idea that I objected to the embrace?"

"Madam, you spoke of objecting to kissing," Henry pointed out respectfully. He could not read a woman's mind.

"I feel faint."

"You often feel faint."

"Will you call a maid for me?"

Henry wrinkled his nose. He would, if it was necessary, but he did not think it was. "Surely your inability to undress yourself is but an affectation?"

"I am not the sort for affectations!" Anne exclaimed and began to work on her gown. She had begun before she realised she should not.

He watched as it eventually seemed to come loose, but since plenty of fabric remained underneath, he did not yet stop her. "That it comes off so easily proves my point, madam."

She tapped something. "This I cannot undo."

"And I am infinitely glad for that."

"But you will not call a maid to help me. You want me to sleep in this and I cannot. This is absurd." She could hardly believe she was truly in this situation, in front of a man who had embraced her and with her gown undone by her own hands.

"You should learn how to undress yourself. Or perhaps forego the contraption. Will you, like my little nieces, fall over if you are not held up?" If the answer was no, there was no need for her to wear such a thing. He did not understand any other need.

"No, it --" She closed her eyes and groaned. "I am going to ask you one last time to call a maid for me."

"And if I do not..."

"I shall tell your brother about everything."

"Would that include your taking off your gown in front of me?" Henry asked interestedly. James was going to like that. He derived some strength from not being the one who could be teased most, yet he would not exploit the advantage.

"You have not chosen a good time to be clever."

"Sadly, madam, only women make me stupid, so I am glad I hardly see any. Now, I have some sympathy for your plight, so I offer my assistance. I am not sure I am equal to it, but I am willing to give it a try for your sake."

"You should not treat me like a boy," Henry said in a pensive tone after she had guided him rather condescendingly through unfastening her stays. It was not as shocking as he had thought it might be, but rather exciting. "I am not a boy."

The actions he undertook next were indeed not those of a boy. Anne was astonished, but she felt herself unable to protest.

"Well?" he inquired after the fact. A boy would not do such a thing, he thought smugly. Only a man would.

She was still catching her breath. "You are not a boy. And you are not an innocent."

"I was, madam, but I am a good observer."

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