Chapter Text
Louisa jumped, and Captain Wentworth, a man built for action and with reflexes honed through experience, reacted quickly when she leapt from the steps despite the height and his protests; and, while he did not prevent her drop as he had been intending, he did indeed break it. He had placed himself in the way to stop her fall with his very body, and in response, was the one knocked back against the cobb with the full force of the impact that had been meant for her.
There was a great pause as understanding of the events that had occurred, as well as their outcome, found everyone present. While Louisa cried out in pain and embarrassment from her ungraceful landing upon the hard surface of the cobb, and still suffering injury from her folly, and Captain Benwick, Henrietta and Charles all went to her aid with various levels of concerns and chastisements, Captain Wentworth remained still upon the ground until Anne and Mary almost together noticed his state of lifelessness.
Mary cried out and clung to Charles who had taken a step back in horror-filled surprise, leaving Anne, distressed and feeling almost weak in her entire body from seeing the Captain in such a state to fall into action alone, going to his side and immediately setting to work.
“Give him some air,” she called to those of her party who were now crowding near, after determining with relief that the captain still breathed, suddenly finding it easier for herself to do the same. Her eyes then met Captain Benwick’s. “Get the surgeon, please hurry.” She paused to watch the sailor go and to regain her comport at the sight of the blood still readily flowing from the wound -so much of it!
Quivering fingers worked Wentworth’s cravat loose, using the material to help stem the flow of blood, wondering at what they were to do next. There was no way they could move him, not without help. Looking to the others, she knew Charles had as much to deal with as he could between Mary’s hysterics and Louisa’s own injuries.
“Henrietta,” she said at last pulling the wild eyed young woman’s attention from Captain Wentworth and back to her, “Leave your sister to Charles and give your things to Mary, and please go down the cobb a ways. We passed some fisherman not long ago, remember? Please beg their assistance and bring them here to help us move him.”
Shaking, but holding herself strong, Henrietta seeing no other option but to follow Anne’s direction, quickly did as she was bade and was off at a hurried pace towards the trio of older men on the lower cobb who had been repairing a fishing net not too far away, praying that they would still be there and that her courage would not fail her in beseeching their aid.
With nothing left that she could do aside from wait for help with one hand pressed against the wound on the captain's head to slow the bleeding, feeling the warmth his life slowly leaving, and the other near his pulse point to ensure he truly still lived, Anne prayed as she studied his pale face. She could not recall his ever being so still before. To think he might remain so forever more…
From somewhere she heard a sob, and for a moment she could not sure that it was not her own, only remembering when she heard Louisa’s wince and Mary’s sniffle that she was not suffering alone.
It was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching that pulled her thoughts from the dark places they threatened to go. Looking up, she not only saw Henrietta and the fishermen, but also Captain Harville, who had been drawn by the commotion and Benwick racing past his door on his errand. Anne felt overwhelming relief to see him and how he took control of the moment, issuing directions and soon, with Anne still holding the wound and cradling his head for support, Captain Wentworth was safely being lifted and carried towards the Harvilles', with Charles carrying Louisa, and Mary and Henrietta supporting one another as they followed tearfully behind.
The surgeon and Captain Benwick arrived at the Harvilles' soon after Captain Wentworth was settled, Mrs Harville having taken on the brunt of the chore while Anne remained to stay the bleeding that was now all but stopped. With the surgeon’s arrival, Anne and the others were left to return to the parlour to sit and await news of how the patient was.
Mrs Harville - Harriet - had been an accomplished nurse before marriage, and so saw to Louisa’s injuries as best she could while they waited. Charles refused to sit, going between standing with Mary and looking out the window, his back towards the room. Henrietta, with silent tears and an otherwise brave face, sat beside Mary who seemed in as much shock as Louisa herself. The invalid was ashen, with cuts and bruises about her body, her frock torn and stained from where she had impacted the still hard ground. Her good hand was worrying a broken seam, as she held her other, clearly injured, to herself protectively and Harriet saw to what she supposed was a sprained, if not broken, ankle. Louisa sat eerily still as her wounds were tended; shock at her actions - at the consequences of her stubbornness! - overwhelming her.
“I killed him.”
Anne, feeling as much pity for Louisa as she did for herself, sat beside the younger woman in order to offer what comfort she could, placing her own shawl about Louisa’s shoulders.
“You did no such thing,” Charles assured, his tone sharp with worry and none of them quite believing that he believed what he said.
Anne was about to take the girl's hand when Harriet caught her eye, drawing Anne’s attention to her very own sleeve which once had been a soft and muted green that morning, but was now stained red with blood. With Captain Wentworth’s blood. There was more of it upon her skirts as well. Knowing that seeing it would not help Louisa, Anne called Henrietta to take her place, and leaving Louisa to her family’s care, the two older women retreating to the kitchen so as to try and clean the fabric that both knew was ruined.
Her hands were still tinged with red as plunged them into the water provided for the task, feeling akin to Lady MacBeth, not only in her wish to be free of the blood on her hands, but also the treachery which she felt had brought it about. For none of this would have happened if she hadn’t…
“I am sorry this happened,” Anne said to Harriet in a low tone as she accepted a cloth with which to dry her now clean hands and wet and still soiled sleeve, “I know your husband and Captain Wentworth care for one another quite as brothers…”
“If it had to happen at all, I am glad for that very reason, that it had happened here. Harry will want to help. As will James and myself, of course. And I cannot tell you how obliged we are that you were here as well. I am sure you saved his life.”
Anne did not want to think of the potential truth behind her words. Was his life truly that at risk? “I only did what I would hope others would have done for me were our circumstances changed.”
Harriet smiled at Anne, not arguing with her, but still feeling grateful all the same, all the more so when reminded of the others who had been with Wentworth, knowing he would not be faring so well were circumstances left to them alone. “Be that as it may, please allow me to say that I think you make an excellent nurse.”
In that moment of comradery they could hear the surgeon descend the stairs with Benwick and Harville close behind, and so, still being near the lady of the house, Anne was well in a position to at least overhear the conversation when they and Charles all met in the hall outside the parlour.
“I believe it looks worse than it is,” the surgeon assured, speaking in a calm, but low tone, “But head wounds can be tricky things, and we won't know the full damage until he wakes. Until that happens, he will need to be kept still, his wound clean and someone will need to sit with him at all times. It is not unusual in such cases for the patient to slip in and out of consciousness, or be confused at first or even act in strange ways while the brain sets itself to rights. Just keep him calm and I will return tomorrow morning to see how he does. If he enters crisis, or there is any sudden, alarming change, fetch me right away.”
There was a moment of relief at knowing his case was not immediately hopeless that lasted until they realized he was not out of the woods completely.
“We should tell the Crofts,” Anne knew, breaking the silence and looking to Charles, as the surgeon was taken by Benwick to see to his next patient, “his sister will want to be here.”
Charles, still with a far away look about him, nodded. “I have to take my sister back to Uppercross if she is deemed fit to travel, for Louisa needs looking after herself. Mary and Henrietta too, I am sure, from the shock.” He let out a concerned sigh, knowing they had already delayed too long and that his parents were likely to be worried, “but you are right. I will go to Kellynch also and break the news. I expect they will want to come right away. I will return with them tomorrow to see how he does and to give word about Louisa.”
Anne saw the look exchanged between the Harvilles, well aware that they already had a full house and many concerns to take care of, with Captain Harville lame, Captain Benwick in mourning, and three children with only Mrs Harville and her nursemaid Margaret, to care for them all. She ensured that Charles saw it also.
“Will you manage until then?” He asked them.
Mrs Harville didn't even hesitate before assuring them both, “Oh, yes. He is like family to us and we will look after him as such.”
“He would do no less for us,” Captain Harville added with a loving look to his wife that made Anne feel a tinge of envy. Had things been different she would be the one to nurse Frederick. If only she were permitted to so do now-
“While my nursing skills are amateur at best,” Anne bravely allowed, her voice timid and eyes not daring to see any of their possible expressions, focusing again on the persisting red of her sleeve, “I do have experience helping those in need in the village, and tending to my nephews, as Charles and Mary can attest. If you would permit me, Mrs Harville, at least until Mrs Croft is able to come, I would like to offer myself as whatever assistance I may be able to provide, to ease this sudden burden. After all, if it were not for us, this would not have happened. It is only right that we do what we can to help you at this time.”
“She is quite good with children,” Charles affirmed, stepping beside Anne, lowering his voice and head both as he asked if she was certain she wished to make this request, perhaps ensuring she realized what else it may be opening herself and her reputation up to.
“I am. Louisa will have her old nursemaid and your family to dote upon her during her recovery. You will not need me. And it is still days yet before Lady Russell returns to Kellynch Lodge. While I am able to be of use, I would like to help where I feel I may do the most good. At present, until the Crofts arrive and my own family have need of me, I feel that may be best done at Mrs Harville’s service. I promise that I will not be in the way.”
There was a silent conversation between the men and the lady herself before Captain Harville smiled upon her, still not fully convinced, but willing to accept the charity. “We could ask for no better help. You are most welcome.”
That was enough to set Charles into action once more, “Very well. I will bring you home once I see the Croft's here. You can expect us tomorrow as long as the weather remains. Now, I ought to see about Lousia, speaking to those at the inn for you and getting the rest of us home before we are missed too much more.”
With Charles thusly occupied, it fell to Captain Benwick to offer his aid to Lousia when the time came to leave, carrying her to the carriage with the silent gallantry that made her blush and thank him with an embarrassment that none of her relations had seen in her before. By the time Mary realized that Anne wasn't amongst them within the carriage it was far too late to do anything about it, and quicker than any of them thought it was possible, the Musgraves were gone, and Anne was left alone with the Harvilles and Captain Benwick.
“Well, Miss Elliot,” Mrs Harville began when they returned into the now far too quiet home, the reality of recent decisions making itself known upon them all, “Shall we see what care our patient will require?”
“Certainly,” Anne said, her nerves building, “but I do hope that you might feel comfortable enough to call me Anne. I think this is not the time to stand upon ceremony.”
Harriet smiled at her new-found companion, “Well, Anne, James said you handled the emergency well - Watch that step, Harry has been putting off fixing it - and that is no easy thing. I would feel guilty about asking you to endure more by exposing you to the sick room more than is necessary, and as much as you are comfortable,” she added, having almost forgotten that she was talking to a baronet’s daughter, who by temperament might not have the patience for the infirm, no matter how her nature had taken to it or what offer of aid had already been made. “Not that child rearing is any more calming to one's nerves.”
Anne was well used to not betraying her emotions, and so did not react to the notion of seeing the injured captain once more, at least not in a way anyone not intimately familiar with her would detect. But, upon hearing the uncertainty creep into her companion’s voice, she did her best to offer a comforting smile.
“I have spent enough time with Mary's boys to own the truth of that, but as I said, I do love children and I would like to be useful to you, however you wish to put me to work. I promise that I am not afraid of it. If nothing else, splitting the work with another body should make it easier on everyone else.”
Mrs Harville felt more at ease when she stopped them at the top of the stairs, pleased to find that Anne was so unlike her sister. “My nursemaid, Margaret, is heaven sent, but even she needs to rest, it's true. But, let us hope that the children will remain on good behaviour, and that our invalid will cause no more excitement and we will only have to contend with a long night of sitting up with him.”
“Yes, let us hope so,” Anne agreed wholeheartedly when Harriet finally opened the door to the sick room and the pair entered. Once more Anne's nerves grew.
She was no stranger to sickrooms, vividly remembering the hours spent in her mother's when she was still a child. And, since her mother died, Anne had been the one to tend to Mary's many complaints over the years, as she did for her nephews when she was visiting them. During her school years she often visited her school fellows when they were infirm. And even once she helped to look after her father when he fell ill one winter.
And yet, this was her first time invading the sick room of a man not a relation. “I have heard people say that the Captain is hard headed." She recalled fondly many years before when she heard him say that of himself as well. "I am sure it will be to his benefit now, and hopefully his recovery will likewise be speedy.”
“Even if it is not smooth, I am sure it will be rapid - stubbornly so,” Harriet assured knowingly as she went about the steps in checking the patient, making sure Anne was able to see what needed to be done; her tone speaking to her expertise on the topic, hard earned first hand from living with a naval husband, predicting just the kind of insistent recovery, despite actual fitness, they could expect.
As they readied to leave before Margaret would take watch, their patient stirred and his nurses stilled before drawing closer to see if they could see any change or offer any relief. Surely, this was a positive sign!
“Anne,” Frederick whispered before falling silent and still once more.
Anne felt herself almost flush as Harriet smiled, but wisely saying nothing in the moment and instead stayed with the captain, bidding Anne to fetch Margaret.
“Well,” Captain Harville said later when he was told of the event by his wife, “It seems we chose the right nurse for him after all.”