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CHAPTER 1
March 1815
"Those whom
God hath joined together let no man put asunder." intoned
the Reverend Edward Wentworth. "Forasmuch as Frederick and
Anne have consented together in Holy Wedlock, and have witnessed
the same before God and this company, and thereto have given
and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the
same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands;
I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
"God the Father,
God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you;
the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you; and so fill
you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so
live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may
have life everlasting. Amen."
The bride and groom
gave each other a look as the service proceeded to the preparation
of Holy Communion. As the congregation invited to witness this
celebration was modest, it was a short time before the couple
turned to recede down the aisle. The lovely lady was dressed
in a light blue gown that showed her to best advantage while
the handsome gentleman was dashing in the full-dress uniform
of a Post-Captain of the Royal Navy. The pair sought to keep
their emotions in check - this wedding was eight and a half years
in the coming. The bride, Anne Elliot Wentworth, had to keep
herself from skipping down the aisle while her husband, Frederick
Wentworth, fought the impulse to pick up his wife in his arms
and run out of the chapel to the nearest inn.
Following directly
behind the pair were the two requested to stand with them. The
Maid of Honor, Miss Elizabeth Elliot, knew she owed her office
solely to the fact she was the new Mrs. Wentworth's only unmarried
sister. She wore what she thought was a rather pleasant expression,
but anyone who beheld it would think that the lady was intensely
displeased - and they would be right. Elizabeth Elliot was very
unhappy. She cared not two farthings for Captain Wentworth, and
she would not miss her sister as she left for her new household.
What plagued the lady was the fact that both her younger sisters
were married and Elizabeth had yet no eligible beaux on the horizon.
She had been abandoned by Mr. William Elliot, her cousin, and
betrayed by Mrs. Clay, her friend. She was coming to the realization
that time was running out and there never might be anyone worthy
of the eldest daughter of a baronet to darken her door.
The other, limping
on his bad leg and winking at his wife, was Captain Timothy Harville,
a half-pay Post-Captain from Lyme. Harville was perhaps the best
friend Wentworth had. They had sailed together around the world
before Harville's injury. Harville and his wife were overjoyed
at Frederick's happiness - they both highly esteemed the former
Anne Elliot.
Within moments the
small procession reached the door of the chapel and stepped into
the bright March morning. To Wentworth's eye Bath had never looked
more agreeable. He was a little surprised at Anne's decision
to marry from Bath rather than from Kellynch, but there were
good reasons for the choice. Anne knew that returning to Kellynch
Hall would be painful to her family (including herself) - the
house was let to Admiral and Mrs. Croft, and was likely to remain
so for some time; Her father's and sister's attempts at retrenchment
and economy being half-hearted at best. It would cost less to
hold the wedding in Bath. Bonaparte's very recent escape from
Elba put the entire fleet on alert - Wentworth's posting to the
North American Station in Bermuda was endangered. That meant
Anne might not accompany her husband on the Laconia to his next
posting - one did not bring one's wife on blockade duty. Therefore
the couple wished to marry as soon as may be - eight and a half
years was a long enough wait. Neither wanted to delay a day longer
than necessary. A wedding in Bath was also quicker.
The small group
of well-wishers, about a score in number, waved as the two climbed
into the carriage that was to carry them to the Wedding Breakfast.
Anne blew kisses at her godmother, Lady Russell, and her friend
Mrs. Smith. As they took their seats, Captain James Benwick slammed
the door and cried "Drive on!" to the coachman. The
carriage got underway in a lurch and after a cheer the group
moved quickly to their own carriages.
Wentworth busily
arranged himself on the seat - a sword could be an awkward business
in a small coach - when he glanced over at Anne. She had an extremely
intense look on her face which alarmed her husband. "Anne,
my own, what is amiss? Are you well?" he asked.
"Perfectly
well, Frederick, I assure you."
Hearing Anne's sweet
voice call him by his Christian name sent a jolt of joy through
his soul. "I am glad to hear it, but you have the most serious
expression! Has something displeased you?"
"Nothing…oh
Frederick…at last…" With that she threw herself
into his arms and kissed him senseless. At first the Captain
was shocked into immobility; but a moment later he returned her
passion tenfold. At least he resisted the temptation to take
her there in the carriage. Finally, coming up for air, his wife
whispered, "How long must we remain at breakfast, Frederick?"
"Not a moment
longer than necessary, my love." As she sighed and leaned
into his shoulder, Wentworth reflected that marriage promised
to be even better than he thought.
Breakfast was held
at Camden Place, Sir Walter Elliot's lodgings in Bath. The cost
was more dear than really necessary, but Sir Walter had appearances
to keep up. In some nod to economy the event was smaller than
the one he had held for his daughter Mary (now Mrs. Musgrove)
several years ago, and certainly more modest than what he would
do for his eldest and favorite, Elizabeth.
It was just as well,
for if truth be told, there was little affection in his heart
for Anne. Oh, she was a good sort of girl, if a bit headstrong.
Her constant demands for economy vexed him. Some people called
her sharp, but he thought her cheap. He knew that she meant well
- she simply didn't understand that a baronet had to maintain
a facade of gracefulness, and that cost money. She had strange
ideas about who were proper acquaintances for someone of their
stature - he labored to get her to see that she often lowered
herself. Mrs. Smith indeed! Yet all that was as nothing
- he could still love her - if only she wasn't so plain!
Vanity was the beginning
and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character; vanity of person
and of situation. Infected by this condition to an incredible
degree, he projected his self-love onto the world. People were
divided into two groups - attractive and unattractive. They were
also broken down into two other groups - above him in station
and below. In his mind, one spent the majority of one's time
with those who were wealthy and beautiful. One also cultivated
the ugly and rich, but at a distance. The balance of humanity
was ignored, unless the good-looking poor paid him proper deference,
which explained his tolerance of Mrs. Clay. But unfortunately,
Anne failed to measure up to his high standards of beauty. He
would, of course, do his duty by her, but he was disappointed
all the same.
He was glad that
someone worthy would take Anne off his hands. He might not love
her, but that did not mean he would let just anyone marry the
daughter of a baronet (even if she was plain)! When Captain Wentworth
had aspired to Anne in the Year '06 (an event he barely remembered)
he'd been a nobody. Now, a renowned naval hero of five-and-twenty
thousand pounds, the man was commendable enough to marry such
a lady. He hoped that they were too old to breed, or if they
did, that the children might take after their grandfather. .
Next to Sir Walter
at the table was Lady Russell. The late Lady Elliot's best friend,
she was godmother to Anne. Since her friend's death, Lady Russell
had tried to fill her shoes, to an uneven degree. She had little
influence on either Sir Walter or Elizabeth; Mary at least showed
her some deference. Only with Anne was she able to be of some
use. She became as a second mother to the girl, and it pained
her to see how her goddaughter was ill-used by her family, though
it had never occurred to her to remove Anne from her unfortunate
household.
Using her ability
to guide Anne, she persuaded the girl to reject Frederick Wentworth
in the Year Six, when he had been only a newly-minted Post-Captain.
She had never lost a moment's sleep over the incident, even though
she knew it had been hard on the girl. When Anne refused Charles
Musgrove, Lady Russell was surprised but not alarmed - she knew
someone even more worthy would come along.
She had thought
that person had finally arrived in the person of William Walter
Elliot. Lady Russell had been completely taken in by the man
- she had seen a charming gentleman who would place her darling
Anne where Lady Russell had always wanted her - as Mistress of
Kellynch Hall. She had been concerned when Anne failed to respond
to her cousin, and she had been shocked when her goddaughter
announced her engagement to a Captain Wentworth returned triumphant.
Lady Russell's earlier
prejudice against Frederick Wentworth had prevented her from
giving him the justice he deserved when he had returned from
the wars rich, famous and as high in his profession as merit
could take him - only the death of those senior to him would
allow Wentworth to move up in the List to eventually raise his
Admiral's flag (should he remain in the Navy). He was no Hornblower
or Aubrey, to be sure, but few frigate captains were more dashing
or more successful in taking prizes.
It had only been
after Mr. Elliot had exposed himself as a cad (again) that Lady
Russell had taken an honest appraisal of Frederick Wentworth.
What she had seen was a decent, honest, hard-working and devoted
gentleman - and that Anne had never stopped loving him. Lady
Russell could not berate herself about her counsel to Anne so
many years ago, for the simple reason that she still believed
she had been right - at the time. Things were different now -
he was here, Anne wanted him, he was rich - so everything ended
happily.
But deep in Lady
Russell's mind the phrase "eight and a half years"
remained - almost nine years of happiness Anne may have enjoyed
(and children begot) with Captain Wentworth had she not been
persuaded otherwise by her loving Godmother.
Down the table was
Anne's remaining sister, Mrs. Mary Elliot Musgrove, and her husband
Charles. Mary bore some affection for her older sister, she dearly
liked a wedding, and so she was in high spirits. She liked the
idea that Anne would marry better than her sisters-in-law Louisa
and Henrietta, and as long as Captain Wentworth never earned
more than the Order of the Bath in his profession, she, the future
Mistress of Uppercross, would feel no jealousy.
Charles's feelings
were mixed. To be sure, he held a good deal of affection for
Mary and had never questioned his decision to turn to her after
Anne's rejection. But still, Anne accepted Wentworth (a very
good sort of man), and Charles could not help wondering, Why
him?
No one at the breakfast
could be happier than the newlyweds, but coming in a close second
place were Admiral and Sophia Croft, Frederick's sister and brother-in-law,
and right behind them were his brother Edward Wentworth and his
wife. While they could not claim to have actually made the match,
they did labor to remind both participants of the other's good
qualities. All four had fretted that Frederick would never settle
down. They had been willing to accept Louisa Musgrove, silly
as she was. But for Frederick to have turned to Anne Elliot was
a miracle. The Crofts loved Anne as a sister already, and Edward
Wentworth knew of his brother's long-suffering attachment to
the lady (it was to him that Frederick would always confess
everything).
Louisa Musgrove
at one time had thought herself destined for Captain Wentworth,
but after her accident in Lyme she had found she preferred the
quiet devotion of Captain James Benwick. She felt no jealousy,
and she and her sister Henrietta and all of their family wished
their good friend Anne all the happiness in the world. The girls
hoped their double ceremony in a few weeks, when they would become
Mrs. Benwick and Mrs. Hayter, would be at least as lovely as
Anne's wedding. Truthfully, they both preferred Anne to their
sister-in-law Mary and had always wished that she had taken pity
on their poor brother and accepted him.
Mrs. Smith sat in
a privileged place across the table from the guests of honor.
She was pleased at the tribute, never knowing of the sharp words
exchanged between her friend Anne and her hostess Elizabeth over
the seating arrangements. Had she known, she may have felt honored
regardless, because it was the first time Anne had ever raised
her voice to her sister, and it served - Anne won out.
And as for the Dowager
Viscountess Dalrymple and her daughter the Honorable Miss Carteret,
they were only thinking of the next course to their meal.
Captain Harville
rose to his feet and rapped the side of his glass. "Here,
here. Please, everyone, refill your glasses." The Navy had
ways of doing things, and Harville would see that all customs
were observed. "First, of course, to our bride and groom
- Captain and Mrs. Wentworth."
"Captain and
Mrs. Wentworth," repeated the crowd.
"Next, a toast
to our honored hosts, Sir Walter Elliot and Miss Elliot."
Sir Walter condescended to bow slightly at the expected compliment.
"To the Royal
Navy." Again the glasses were sipped.
"Finally -
please refill your glasses - ladies and gentlemen, the King."
As one all the officers
leapt to their feet and intoned, "THE KING." As the
other gentlemen rose belatedly out of their chairs, the officers
drained their glasses.
"Is breakfast
over?" asked Lady Dalrymple.
"Are you looking
forward to your first sea voyage, my dear?" asked the elder
Mrs. Musgrove as Anne was freshening up after breakfast.
"Yes. I have
not traveled much, but I have always had an inclination to do
so." It was partially the truth. While there was much of
England she longed to see, Anne had never thought much about
sailing to far away places. In her life she had lived only in
Somerset and Bath; except for an occasional visit to such places
as London or Lyme she had resided nowhere else. Anne preferred
the country over city living, and any city was preferable over
despised Bath. What dreams she had of marriage usually involved
some comfortable house with a bit of land and some wilderness
nearby. As she had never been as ambitious as either of her sisters,
Anne had never thought of spending the rest of her life as Mistress
of Kellynch Hall - though she would have been content to reside
there as a spinster. However, Anne had lost her heart to Frederick
Wentworth back in 1806, and even though she had ended their engagement
then, she never stopped loving him. God in His Infinite Mercy
had allowed the two a rare second chance, and after no little
bit of anguish and misunderstanding, Frederick and Anne allowed
their hearts to triumph. Anne knew that Frederick was a sailor,
and his country had need of him. Given the choice of going with
him or staying behind - after eight years of separation - there
was no choice, if Anne was to be true to her desires and character.
"But on a ship,
my dear? Will it not be uncomfortable?"
Sophy Croft laughed.
"Oh my dear Mrs. Musgrove, nothing is further from the truth.
As you know, I have sailed with my husband the Admiral many times,
on frigate and ship-of-the-line too, and have found nothing so
agreeable."
"My new sister
has been so kind as to fill my head with all sorts of advice;
so I am quite prepared to be the greatest of voyagers,"
said Anne with a smile.
Sophy grinned. "And
to make sure that my lessons have been minded, the Admiral and
I shall journey to Portsmouth in a sennight to see my brother
and sister off."
"La - I am
very sure you will never get me on a ship, unless it is to cross
the Channel for a tour of Europe!" cried Mary, which caused
general merriment.
Conversation died
out as Lady Russell approached the group with a serious look
on her face. "Anne, may I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course
- ladies, please excuse us." The two moved to a quiet corner
of the small parlor as the other ladies returned to the main
room. "Yes, ma'am?"
Lady Russell was
troubled. "Anne, I do not like seeing you leave us so soon.
We are just getting used to the idea that you are so happily
married," at this Anne nodded, "and now you are to
go half way around the world from all your friends…"
"Lady Russell,"
Anne interrupted, "surely you are not advising me not to
go with my husband?"
"O-of course
not, my dear…" the older lady stuttered; that was indeed
her mission, but Anne's kind and determined look informed her
godmother that she would not be moved. As much as Lady Russell
loved her, she could not be happy with the younger woman's new-found
firmness. "You will be missed, and Captain Wentworth too."
"Thank you,"
Anne returned as she hugged her. "I do wish you would have
more time with Frederick - to know him better…"
"Anne, I shall
come to and always love F-Frederick, as long as he honors you
as you deserve. I can do nothing less for my darling girl."
Wentworth was talking
to his fellow officers while waiting for Anne near the door of
the hall. He was anxious to leave.
"When will
the Laconia be ready, Frederick?" asked Harville.
"She's at Portsmouth
now - we are to sail to the North American Station in three weeks.
That is, if I don't get a change in orders." With the news
of Napoleon's return to France, Wentworth's posting was moved
up from six months hence to the end of March.
"You never
know, my boy," offered Admiral Croft. "The Admiralty
can be damned contrary. Too many damned civilians in the place,
I tell you." The First Lord and most of the Admiralty were
not sea officers.
"Have you received
an assignment, sir?" asked Benwick.
"Me? No - I
hoisted down my flag during the peace. My only quarterdeck now
will be the library at Kellynch Hall. How about you, Benwick?"
"I received
the kindest letter from Lord Keith before he left for Gibraltar,
but…" Benwick didn't need to finish - there were far
more captains and commanders on shore looking for employment
than ships available.
Harville grasped
Benwick's arm. "Look, old man, why not do as I did? I'm
to see a Mr. Gardiner in London about a civilian job…"
"Leave the
Navy?" cried Benwick.
"Benwick,"
said Wentworth, "if you still wish to sail, a merchantman
might be your only choice."
"And not just
any tub - an Indiaman!" chimed in Harville. "Fastest
ships afloat! And the pay's better than in the service."
"Well, perhaps…I
am occupied at the moment - got the wedding coming up, you know…"
tempered Benwick.
Harville said very
quietly, "Do you want me to mention you to Mr. Gardiner?"
Benwick looked at
the Admiral, who nodded. "Yes."
Wentworth was very
uncomfortable with the conversation. Of the men present, only
he and Admiral Croft did not need to sail - they had already
won their fortunes. Yet, he was the one with a ship, and
the Admiral had voluntarily retired. Benwick was in the prime
of his life, as good a sailor as any he had met (James had been
a lieutenant under him once), but he was on the beach. He was
only a Master and Commander, fit only for a brig or sloop, and
there were full Post-Captains without employment. And Harville
- a French sharpshooter had cut short what had promised to be
a brilliant career. Was he a better sailor than his friends?
Or was it simply luck? If so, what would happen when it ran out…?
"Frederick."
He turned and saw his sister. "I believe Anne is ready."
It took no little
time for all the farewells to be accomplished and the couple
was safely enclosed in the carriage. Finally the last kiss was
kissed and the last handshake was shook and the coach was on
its way. They had only gone a few blocks before Anne pulled the
curtains closed. At her husband's questioning look she asked,
"Have I told you how much I hate Bath?"
"No, dear."
"I wish never
to see this place again."
"I am afraid
we will argue on our wedding day, for I must disagree with you,"
he teased. "Bath will always be dear to me."
It took Anne a moment
to understand Frederick's comment, after which she smiled. "Well,
I can forgive you that," she said as she kissed him. She
then snuggled close into his arms and rode in silence.
Frederick was a
little confused - her current attitude was very different than
the passion she had displayed during the trip from the chapel.
Is she nervous? Of course - she is an innocent. What can I
say to relieve her anxiety? "Uhh…I hope you are
well, dearest…"
"Never better,
Frederick."
"Good…glad
to hear of it…" "Glad to hear of it?"
What kind of love talk is that, you oaf? Console her! "Umm…darling….I
just wanted you to know…I understand that you may…harbor…some,
uhhh…"
Anne looked at her
husband with a curious expression.
"…apprehensions
about tonight…let me assure you that…uhh…"
Anne chuckled softy.
"…I hold
you with the greatest…what is amusing?"
She kissed him sweetly.
"Oh Frederick, you are too good. I may be a maiden, but
I am no girl. I know what to expect. I look forward to it as
much as you." She kissed him again.
Frederick grinned.
"I am glad to hear it, but I doubt you are as - anxious
- as I am…" I've been dreaming of this night for
eight and a half years!
She leaned back
into his shoulder. "You are not the only one who dreams,
my love."
What? "How…how did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Read my mind!
That was my very thought!"
She chuckled again.
"It was not so very hard - it was written all over your
face."
"I see…I
see that I will have to be careful around you!" They laughed
and kissed again. "But why are you so quiet?"
"This last
year has been very trying, Frederick. Finally I am at peace -
and with you - and I am enjoying the sensation."
"Far be it
from me to disturb your contentment." They rode on in silence,
Anne in Frederick's arms, enjoying the occasional caress. They
may have closed their eyes, but they did not sleep.
A couple of hours
later they stopped at a country inn outside of Trowbridge. The
place was very neat and clean. The innkeeper and his wife could
not be more accommodating or discreet. The meal was hot and flavorful
and the wine drinkable. It was all delightful.
Finally the two
sat in adjoining chairs, holding hands and staring into the fire.
"What are you thinking of, Frederick?"
A sigh. "What
a fool I have been. Had I wrote to you in the Year Eight…"
"Frederick,
please…we must put all that behind us, or we will have no
chance at happiness…"
"I will try,
Anne…"
She kissed his hand
and got to her feet. "Well, I am going upstairs…"
Frederick hoped
he didn't jump up too quickly. "Uhh…yes…I suppose
you would want a little time…"
Anne smiled and
stroked her husband's face. "Come with me, Frederick…"
He was taken aback
- this was not what Sophy had warned him to expect. "Now?
I thought…"
She silenced him
with a touch of her lips. "Come, Frederick." Leading
him by the hand she ascended the stairs with him and was soon
in their room. Once the door was closed, Anne turned to Frederick
and kissed him again, this time with more feeling. He began to
embrace her when the lady stepped back.
"Frederick,
as I am now a Captain's wife and will soon be sharing your quarters
with you, I think land-based propriety is a bit foolish, don't
you?" At his puzzled look she continued, "As much as
you love the Laconia, you must admit that she is not the
largest ship in his Majesty's fleet."
Wentworth would
never call a 36-gun frigate small, and he said so.
"That is true,
but she is no Victory either." Anne referred to Nelson's
100-gun first-rate line-of-battle ship. "Privacy will be
limited for us, and I shall have no maid, so we should begin
our married life with no false modesty between us." With
that she began to unbutton her gown.
No one could say
that Frederick Wentworth was slow to seize an advantage. "May
I help you, my dear?"
"Thank you…please."
She turned around so that he could better reach her buttons and
stays. After he freed her from her restraints she turned, removed
his coat and began on his buttons. Soon Frederick's coat, waistcoat,
cravat and shirt were on a nearby chair. Anne, in just her shift,
sat on the bed and removed her stockings, an activity that greatly
fascinated her husband, who could not tear his eyes away.
Finally Frederick
recalled himself. What am I doing? I am no better that some
peeping tom! He turned away from her, mumbling apologies.
"Why do you
apologize ? Why do you turn away?"
Frederick blushed
- his arousal obvious and slightly painful. "I am a brute,
not giving you sufficient privacy…forgive me..."
Anne rose and turned
her husband to face her. "I want you to look at me. Do you
not like what you see?"
It was too much
for the captain. With an "Oh Anne…!" he seized
his wife and began to kiss her. She, began to stoke his bare
back. The two engaged in this activity for no little time before
coming up for air. Frederick's hands seemed to move on their
own, caressing her arms and shoulders. Her delighted moans encouraged
him to find more attractive targets and they soon descended upon
her breasts.
"Oh!"
For an instant, Frederick feared she might be displeased, but
then noticed that Anne arched her back so that her breasts might
have closer contact with his hands. With sweet kisses to her
neck he continued to play with her breasts before concentrating
on her nipples. Anne was quite vocal in her approval, and soon
her hands were searching for pleasurable places on her spouse.
At first satisfied with his buttocks, she moved her hands forward…
"Anne…"
"Frederick,
I have waited for this day…this night…for so very long…Do
I hurt you, husband?"
"N…no…Oh
God…Anne, my own…" He kissed her again, his passions
almost out of control. He reached down and began to lift her
shift when he noticed that she was trying to undo his breeches.
"Anne…I do not believe either of us shall succeed in
our labors if we continue to try to do them at the same time…"
She giggled. "No,
it appears not." With that she stepped back and drew her
shift over her head. In all of Frederick's dreams, and he had
dreamed many in eight years, never had his imaginings equaled
the beauty before him. She looked intently at him. "Do I
please you, Frederick…?"
He began breathing
again as he stepped forward to recapture her in his arms. "You
are Beauty itself…oh my love…" He kissed her welcoming
lips again, delighting in stoking her bare skin. Anne raised
her arms, holding him tightly against her form, losing herself
to his ministrations, feeling the evidence of his desire against
her damp core. As Frederick's hands caressed her buttocks, she
pulled away slightly to look him in the eye.
"I am at a
disadvantage sir…I am as God made me, while you…Is
there not some…impediment?"
With a very serious
expression, Frederick released his bride and began to undo his
breeches. "Do not be afraid, Anne…I want nothing but
to give you pleasure…" Unfortunately, there is no graceful
way for a gentleman to remove his breeches while standing up,
as Frederick discovered to his chagrin. He began hopping on one
foot, which caused all manner of strange movements to his person.
Anne tried to not collapse in laughter…and failed. Frederick
was mortified as he turned to deposit the fell garment into the
farthest corner of the room. He then felt his wife's hands come
around him from behind.
"I am so sorry
Frederick…I did not mean to laugh." She kissed his
back. "No, laughing at you is the last thing I want to do…"
She dropped her hands down…
"Anne…!"
"Does this
mean you desire me…desire me?" She began to
stoke him as she urgently pressed her breasts into his back.
Frederick turned.
"Teasing wench! I have desired you for eight and a half
years!"
She took his face
into her hands. "As have I, my love. Take me to bed, husband."
Frederick lifted
his wife in his arms. Slowly he made his way to the marriage
bed, as she kissed him. Softly he laid her down, and then quickly
walked to the other side before joining her. He began kissing
her gently, but Anne would have none of that. She wrapped her
arms about him and kissed him furiously.
Frederick was delighted
at Anne's response to his attentions. He was a sailor; in his
day he had visited a house of ill repute once or twice. But no
doxy had ever reacted to his kisses as did his lovely Anne.
What Frederick could
not know was that while his love was indeed a maiden, she was
not inexperienced in ecstasy. Years ago, dreaming about her sailor,
Anne had inadvertently discovered self-pleasure. It was a sin,
she was told, and over the years she had tried to resist the
temptation. But on more than one occasion her fantasies about
Frederick had overwhelmed and she would reach for a favorite
candle hidden deep in her bedside table. Those explorations,
and a rather frank discussion with Lady Russell, who had informed
her goddaughter about the delights of the marriage bed, had prepared
Anne for this moment. She reached for her husband's member with
fire in her eyes. "Now, Frederick, now…I can bear it
no longer…"
With an elated cry,
Frederick raised himself over his bride and, looking deep into
her eyes, slowly ended her maidenhood. Anne cried out - the sensation
was greater than she had anticipated. She waited for the pain
- it was expected - it was there, but not as great as she feared.
Anne bore down, flowing through the discomfort to the other side,
as Lady Russell had advised - and finally she was there. Never,
in all her experimentations, had she felt so full, so complete.
"Are you well,
Anne?"
"Yes….
Oh, my love…do not stop…"
Never had Frederick
been so happy to obey an order. He started moving slowly, then
with greater urgency. Anne reached for his shoulders and began
meeting him, stroke for stroke. The two moved in imperfect harmony,
racing for heaven, until Frederick could hold back no more. With
a grunt that shook the walls of the room he spilled his life-giving
seed into his love. The heat that flowed into Anne was all that
she hoped for and more.
"Are you well,
my love?"
"I am very
well, Frederick," she murmured into his bare chest. "Will
you stop worrying?"
"I will try,
but I was told very…firmly that you…might… Well,
I have no wish to…inconvenience you…"
"Frederick!
How many times must I tell you that I am no longer a girl."
Or maiden either, now. "I shall be eternally grateful
to Sophy for being so thorough in her advice to you, but please
- I am not broken. I am well."
"I only hope
it was as…pleasant for you as it was for me…"
"It was all
delightful." It had been too; a bit of pain at one point,
but as Anne expected, she had got through it to the pleasure
on the other side. Not all of Lady Russell's advice is bad.
Frederick was relieved.
It was heaven to be lying in Anne's arms, and he planned to spend
as much time there was he could. "Perhaps later we could…"
"Yes, of course…but
a bit of sleep first, you beast? It has been a long day…"
In a London townhouse
an august member of the Government was sitting in his study with
a glass of port, reading the newspaper. With events changing
hourly on the Continent, he had not the time to go to his club,
as was his usual custom. Therefore it was hours later than it
normally would have been before he would have the chance to read
a small story on the inside of the paper about a terrible accident
in Dorset.
"Oh my God…Oh
no!"
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