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Now that Mrs Croft had her own home for a solid amount of time the Admiral had suggested she invite her brother Frederick to visit. She sent him a letter and he had promised to be with her at the end of the week.
So when there was a loud knocking on the door on Tuesday night, just as they retired, neither had the least suspicion it was him. As her beloved husband marched to the door, stick firmly in hand, Sophia felt her first real alarm since that awful year Henry had left her on shore without him.
"Be careful my dear, you do not know what ruffians..."
"WENTWORTH! WHAT THE BLAZES MAN?! YOU'RE NOT DUE UNTIL FRIDAY!"
"Croft! Let me in would you? Its colder than the Atlantic out here..."
If Sophia was of a more delicate disposition she may well have fainted with relief as the figure of her favourite brother came into view.
"Frederick!"
"Sophey..." he stepped into the hall and removed his hat, determinedly not looking around. "I...apologise for my sudden arrival. My appointment fell through so I decided to surprise you both."
"Well," she said, ushering him to the parlour and ringing for the maid. "You certainly did that. Ah. But I have no room ready for you!"
"Dispose of me anywhere you like Sophia. I'm not proud you know," he said with a smirk. "Why...the old nursery would suit just as well as the Master's chamber."
Sophia instructed the maid to bring them tea and lit the lamps herself as her husband and brother got themselves into a lively debate.
Frederick suddenly quieted as he looked around properly and his eyes lit on a sketch the baronet had forgot and left behind. "This is...a very fine little room" was all he said but she saw him colour slightly.
She brushed it off, the debate in her mind over where to put him at the forefront.
"...Frederick I truly have no guest room ready for you but one of the old family rooms might do for tonight?"
He nodded, eyes still caught by the portrait. Miss Anne Elliott. Obviously drawn by her younger sister. Miss Elliott never did master a pencil...She looked just as he remembered...
"Very well, follow me Captain."
She led him upstairs to the room that Miss Anne used to inhabit, or so she had been informed.
It was a good size and the decoration, while still obviously feminine, was not uselessly fine or gaudy like much of the house. It was the best place she could offer on short notice.
She would never say this to anyone but she firmly believed Miss Anne Elliott to be the only person of sense and taste in her family. Of course she had never met the young lady personally...
"This, I believe, was Miss Anne Elliott's room once. I'll have the bed made up. I'm sorry its so...feminine but if you will come upon me unannounced Frederick -"
"Its fine. I've had worse. This-will do for the night. -Thank you Sophia. Really."
She shook her head, amused at his distraction and slipped out of the room.
Captain Frederick Wentworth stood by the door for a long time, frozen in memory. So this was once the sanctuary that Anne...Miss Elliott... ran to when life with her terrible family got too much to bear?
Slowly he stepped into the room, quiet and careful that he not disturb the ghosts of the past as he looked around.
She had taken all her ...personal effects to Bath no doubt but the room had not yet rid itself of her presence. Running his hands over the carved foot of the bed...the small dressing table...the plain chair, he shuddered and a few tears sprang unwanted from his eyes.
Without warning a draw in the table came loose and a piece of old newspaper fell to the floor. Frederick sighed and picked it up.
It was a cutting from an article from...years ago about the Laconia and the storm she survived. An article that mentioned him in a very favourable light. A single teardrop had marred half the words but t'was clearly referencing his growing fame.
He sat heavily in the chair wondering what this meant.
"Anne...."