Too Fond of Stars: A Persuasion Variation: Fate and Fortune, #1

Chapter One

The rain fell lightly , now, and was almost indistinguishable from the spray of the sea. Captain Frederick Wentworth took a deep breath in, relishing the way the salt stung his nostrils, the chill that hit his chest with every inhalation.

The worst is over, Captain, remarked his First Lieutenant. I reckon the weather is settling now. We’ll not be delayed much longer.

Right you are, Vaughan, Frederick said, with a nod. He squinted at the horizon, but the dark sky disappeared into the black sea, which made it impossible to determine one’s end and the other’s beginning.

Do not you wish to retire, sir? Henry Vaughan persisted. We are quite enough here now, and you are surely wet through.

As are you, I don’t doubt. Frederick smiled. You need not worry about me, Vaughan, I’ve survived worse than a soaking at sea.

The two men stood silently together for a moment, and Frederick tilted his head upwards, tracing the familiar arc of the stars he had sailed under this many months.

Do you think you’ll miss it? Vaughan ventured.

Frederick snapped his eyes down, meeting the man’s curious gaze with his own, guarded one.

The sea, I mean. The Navy. Vaughan grinned. Your men are sure to miss you.

There are plenty of other captains.

Indeed there are, but only one of you, sir. Most of us cannot countenance sailing under another.

Frederick sighed.

I’m honoured to hear it, but you’ll have to let go of that sentiment, and soon. How long do you have in port before putting out to sea again?

His colleague named a number of days that was far too short, in Captain Wentworth’s mind. Long enough to get into trouble, too short to make any real benefit to the men starved of the comforts of home and the companionship of their families.

Do not you think of leaving, Vaughan? Frederick asked, lifting his eyes to the stars again. Finding a wife, a house, building a family.

Not me, sir, Vaughan said. No woman would have me, leastways not any I want. He shrugged. I had my chance, and she chose another. She's happy, I believe, and I have...all this! He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the great dark expanse of sea and sky, and received a kick of salt spray for his trouble. He cursed, and both men laughed. That your intent, now, sir? Home, family?

Frederick considered the question. It would have been an impertinence from any other of his men, but Henry Vaughan was his closest colleague and friend on ship, as well as his second in command. The man was destined for great things if he stayed his course, and Frederick would be pleased to see him advance up the ranks.

Maybe, he said. His mind retreated, as it often did on nights like this one, to one moment, many years ago, when he had thought of marrying. Anne Elliot’s face floated before him for half an instant, before he forced the memory away, with a grimace. She had refused him in the end, and perhaps it was for the best. Would he have been so committed to his career with a wife at home? He surely would not have taken the risks that had led to his swift advancement. Heartbreak had made him brave, or foolhardy, he could not own which was the more accurate descriptor.

There was a shout from elsewhere on the ship, and both men automatically looked over.

I’ll see to it, sir, his colleague said, bidding Frederick a good evening. He watched the man leave, wanting to intervene and see for himself to what the matter was. I am still captain: it is still my ship! he protested internally, but then reminded himself he had just a day or two more where that would be true, and these men ought to learn to manage without him. They would have another captain, or perhaps a promotion from within the ranks. He had tipped his superiors as to which of the men he thought most able to lead, most in need of greater responsibility, and which he would definitely not recommend being given any more power than they had at present. He grimaced. Being at sea exposed a man’s true character like nothing else Frederick had known, and whilst in many cases it was the making of a man, in a few, an isolated, unhappy few, it revealed how little character was there to begin with.

His thoughts continued to turn, and he wondered about the future of all of the men he had commanded. Would they succeed, or fail? There would be tragedies amongst them, and he would not be there to witness them. His eyes closed. He had witnessed enough tragedies as a crewman and as captain, and still saw the faces of men injured or lost.

Straightening, he forced his thoughts to lift. There would be one happy cause of being away from the sea for a while. He could visit the friends he had not seen for many months, pay respects to former colleagues or, in one case at least, their family. He would do what was required of him, and he would rest. His eyes sought the stars again. He would miss these stars, for it was impossible to presume they would ever be so bright, so vital to him as they were at sea. They were the stars that led him home every time, how could they look the same when he was home to begin with? And where even was home? He was still debating the options open to him upon his return to England. His sister Sophia had angled for his lodging with them, but when she and Admiral Croft sent word of the house they had taken, he had dismissed the possibility out of hand. He had not said as much to his sister, fearing she would merely question why he would so refuse a visit to Kellynch Hall, and not wishing to burden her with the whole, in a letter. Despite his reluctance to visit that particular corner of Somerset, he was eager to see his sister again. It had been...how many years? Two? Five? Too many. His brother, too, was just lately settled in a new parish, but if Frederick allowed the past to keep him from Sophia it was still more a barrier to his desire to see Edward again. Oh, they had seen each other since Frederick’s failed engagement, but even then the matter had weighed heavily over both of them, all the more so for their pointedly skirting the subject. In a small Shropshire village there would be little to do but talk, and Frederick knew, once his exploits at sea had been retold and hashed over, one quiet evening, by the fire, Edward would ask if Frederick had heard from Anne, or if he had written to her. Frederick’s eyes flashed with irritation. Edward would have had him contact her six years' back when last he was home, but Frederick was too proud for that. No, she had had her chance and thrown him over, and he would not open his heart to be trampled on a second time, by Anne Elliot or anyone.

The countryside would be too quiet a place for him at present. The town then. London? Frederick’s shoulders raised instinctively at the thought. The elegance of the ton bored him, and he dreaded to think of the gossip he would have to dodge, as a returning captain. His experiences were not stories for an idle audience eager for adventure and never leaving their own drawing rooms. His thoughts continued, raising and dismissing towns in their turn until one made him pause. Bath. Yes, Bath would be the spot for him. He had been there once before and knew of at least one former colleague of his who resided there. Perhaps Samuel Lennox would be glad of a visit, at least until Frederick could get his bearings. Either way, it would do him good to see his old friend again and learn of his latest pursuits.

There was a sound on the deck behind him, and Frederick called out without turning around.

All settled, Vaughan?

All settled, sir. Just a disagreement.

The men are eager to get home, too, I think.

Indeed they are. Still, if the weather continues to clear we shall soon make up the time we lost.

Frederick heard his friend’s words but didn’t answer them. For him they had an altogether different meaning, one that he would not, could not, share aloud.

WHEN YOU SUGGESTED a stay in Bath, I did not imagine it always to be raining! Sir Walter Elliot declared with a weary sigh, peering over the breakfast table towards his daughter.

Yes, Anne. Elizabeth hurried to share her father’s unhappy sentiments. Why did you suggest such a dreary, damp place?

I suggest? Anne bit back the retort. She recalled the conversation well: far better than either her father or her elder sister, and the suggestion of Bath had been made by her father’s lawyer, and swiftly seized upon by Elizabeth, who saw only the opportunity to mix with those members of fashionable society come lately to Bath to enjoy the waters and be seen at the assembly rooms. If the decision were left to me, I would not have suggested leaving home at all! Anne did not respond aloud, merely turned her attention to her breakfast, and ate diligently, if not enthusiastically. Since settling in Camden Place with as much pomp and circumstance as could be summoned, Sir Walter had taken great delight in sampling the most elegant, expensive fare as could be found. Fortunately for him, there was plenty. Unfortunately for his pocket book, and Anne’s constitution, he was determined to consume according to his every whim and without a moment’s pause or restraint.

Anne, you have hardly touched your breakfast, Elizabeth pointed out, with a cold stare. I do hope you are not sickening for anything.

Dear me, Anne! Do not bring ill health into our home, please! Sir Walter said, leaning back in his seat as if an extra foot of space between them might stop the dread plague from reaching him.

If I am, Anne said, setting her cutlery down on her plate and folding her hands in her lap. Bath is surely the best place for me. Are not the waters said to be most healing and rejuvenating? She shook her head. But I assure you I am quite well, only a little tired.

Tired? Elizabeth laughed. Why, how can you be tired? You went to bed earlier than all of us last night. Cousin William was quite concerned that he had caused you some affront, but I assured him that you were like that with everybody...

Anne’s cheeks coloured at the suggestion that her retiring early had been taken as a slight, and she raised her glance to her father for confirmation.

I dare say he thinks it countrified, Sir Walter said, with a sigh. But as it was only you, Anne, he was perfectly well entertained by your sister and I. You can apologise to him next time we see him.

Anne bit her tongue once more, quelling the desire to ask when Mr William Elliot became the arbiter of social convention they all looked to, and a gentleman they desired not to offend by their countrified manners. She had scarcely recognised Mr Elliot when he called on them, upon their first arrival in Bath, for the elegant gentleman with the piercing blue eyes was a world away from the young dandy who had so easily thrown dismissed his family connections a few years earlier. It had taken courage, she must allow that, to come as freely as he did, seeking an audience with the gentleman he had so spurned, and the fact that the first words to pass his lips were I am so dreadfully sorry for my past conduct... did raise him considerably in Anne’s opinion. However, she was still reluctant to place him in