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| Dream 50
On waking, a blinding headache split my head and my stomach roiled. My only bit of comfort was the bedclothes were light and my gown as well. I presumed I was still Mrs. Wentworth.
"How is she?" The voice was Frederick’s. I silently thanked God. Tears slipped from my eyes and through my hair.
"She sleeps quietly, sir," the maid answered.
"I will sit with her. You may leave and I shall call when she wakes." The sound of a chair scraped as he brought it close to the bed. I wiped my face, hoping he did not notice my movement. Hearing his voice was all the relief I needed. He took my hand and kissed it.
I reached up and lightly brushed his cheek. "I am awake."
He took both hands and smiled. "You look much better, my girl."
"And you have a lot of experience with swooning females?"
He raised his brow, amused with my jest. "I have just enough experience with swooning females to say as much." His expression faded into his own thoughts.
"And what of our visitor?" This brought him to full attention. His face hardening as I had never seen before.
"He left soon after you came upstairs."
I did ask if William came around often.
"Too often to suit me." The answer did not satisfy and he added, "Only twice in the past year."
"You tried to warn me away. Does Anne not see him?"
"No. She makes herself scarce. I deal with him. As you no doubt observed, we are neither of us terribly concerned with good manners."
"I think you showed a great deal of restraint. He had no right to refer to our private lives in any way."
He finally found something to smile about. Leaning close enough for me to feel his breath on my face, he said. "I am not ashamed of his knowing what we've been up to." He touched my belly, sending a thrill through my limbs. "Is something the matter?" He pulled his hand away.
"No. Nothing." I found his hand and restored it. "I am just a bit surprised by your lack of shyness. Most husbands are discomfited by the whole business, or at least ignore it."
"Birth is a natural part of life." He stroked my swollen stomach and looked away. "To know you are willing to bear such pain for my sake, it humbles me." His normally strong voice was little more than a whisper. "There is something you must know." He looked tired.
"Tell me."
NOTE: Yes, I AM a maroon! Knowing I had forgotten something bugged me all day yesterday. Now I know it was posting Dream. Gad, and they let me drive a car! ~~ Susan Kaye | | |
| Dream 49
William didn't look at me directly. He approached his man and shrugged on his coat, then waved the man off. The boys hopped around, gushing with excited chatter until Frederick asked that one of the footmen take them inside for some lemonade. I was hurt to see the relief on William's face when the boys left us.
As all the civilities were accomplished, I studied William. To me, we had just parted a few days earlier, and to see him now I was shocked at what were to me, sudden changes.
At first, I thought him to be flushed with the heat and the physical play, but then I suspected that being red-faced was perhaps his state most of the time. He had gained some weight and it made him soft looking. He was by no means gross, but any disadvantages his youth and slenderness hid were now particularly noticeable. He become aware of my examination and stared at me full on, though said nothing.
"When you were here last, you assured us that in future you would give us ample notice before your visits," Frederick said, suddenly.
William turned to face him, but his eyes lingered a moment. "Yes, well, but this impromptu visit it couldn't be helped. I was in the neighbourhood and had some spare time." He turned back to me. "Time is a precious thing and should not be wasted. By-the-bye," he said, as he took something from his breast pocket. He handed me a letter, addressed with nothing more than, 'AE,' and continued, "I will want an answer as soon as possible."
As I took the packet, I could feel Frederick stiffen and shift with this ill-mannered bit of familiarity. I was about to say that a truly dutiful father would wish to make his son a proper visit next time rather than a whimsical pop round when I saw his eyes drop down to my waist. His left brow went up and a thin smile came over his face. He turned back to Frederick and said, "I see that congratulations are in order."
I dared not look at Frederick. I was mortified. I could feel the flush crawling up my neck to my face, compounding the already hot sun. His words were simple and reeked of indecency. I felt as though I were the one caught in flagrant impropriety.
"Thank you. We are very happy," was all Frederick said.
"It is good to see that the two of you carry on as if everything is normal and right."
Suddenly, I felt the heat of the day terribly. The back of my neck and forehead prickled with perspiration, nevertheless, I began to feel faint and a chill all over. I turned to Frederick and could see him responding to William's cryptic statement, though the sound of the words followed a bit behind. Everything began to slide to one side, and then all went black.
When I woke, Frederick was helping me up the stairs inside the house.
I paused for a moment when we reached the top, and said, "I think I am better now. There is no need for me to lay down." The truth be known, I did not wish to leave William's presence in such a state. I wanted to face him side-by-side with Frederick and wave him away from our home.
"I really don't care what you think, Annie. You need to be abed as soon as possible." With that, he picked me up as though I were one of the little boys and carried me to my room. My maid was tidying up and surprised by our sudden entrance. He set me on the bed, and said, "Look at yourself in the mirror if you don't think you need a rest." He kissed me on the forehead and gave orders that I be put to bed.
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| Dream 48
Frederick grabbed my arm and pulled me down. "Please, sit, else you'll fall." He pulled us to a stop and pointed to the wide expanse of lawn where William played with his son and his nephew. We sat for a few moments and watched the scene. Suddenly, unreasonably, I became fearful.
"What if he decides to take our son?" I thought nothing of saying it, though it was obviously not the strict truth. The true father and son were on the lawn together. And though William showed no sign of plans to take the boy, I made a move to get down and go to them. Again Frederick stopped me.
"Look around, Anne. Have you ever seen so many industrious male servants on the grounds before?" I looked about us and was surprised to see not only servants who normally worked out of doors—grooms and gardeners—but footmen as well. Even Harkness seemed to be walking a slow but steady circuit around the carriage. Once I noticed the men, it was impossible not to notice that many were equipped with tools that were either sharp or heavy. "There are standing orders that if he shows up the men are to be suddenly very occupied in plain sight." He laughed and urged the horses forward. "Even the young boys get in the act." He nodded towards William's carriage, where three boys from different parts of the house were playing tag at the feet of the man holding the coat, and blocking the stairs to the carriage as a part of their game. It seemed that all avenues of escape were considered.
"Despite the trust and all the fine words, the boy is legally his and can be taken at any time." Frederick's tone was unexpectedly mild, and he looked at me with an unreadable expression. "He doesn't want him though."
"How do you know that? Has William said something to you?"
He shook his head. "No. It's just that William Walter Elliot is the sort of man who likes the idea of having a son so that he might prove to the world his manhood, and to carry on the family name. But, the real work of it puts him off. He likes the momentary adulation, but the genuine responsibility is too demanding. It is too cumbersome."
I knew not whether Frederick had ever spoken with William, but it was clear he knew my first husband's character precisely.
We drew up next to the carriage. Will waved and shouted from the lawn, and they began to approach us. "I can take you in now and you need not see him," Frederick said.
The closer William came to us the more I was tempted to accept this offer of escape. Within a few strides, they were close enough that my disappearance would be understood as a snub, or retreat, and my pride would not allow that I should succumb to fear when it came to William. I was free of him now and he could not hurt me in the least.
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| JunoI mentioned Ellen Page in a previous post, and mentioned finally seeing her movie, Juno. (Story about a teen who becomes pregnant and looks in the Pensive yds to find an adoptive couple. And finds what seem to be the perfect candidates.) Janitor stopped by and asked what I thought. Her goes:
I thought it was pretty vulgar. There were actually a few slangier descriptions of the body that put me w-a-y off. And I am not easily shaken by that sort of thing, but there came a point that I just wanted plain English. I know, we lower and lower middle class folk are thought to be pretty low brow, nearly dull normal, and we're all supposed to have a sort of freakish cant that we all understand and nod knowingly when we hear. T'aint so. Maybe it's just because I'm sick to death of the term, "funbags." I heard it years ago on British television and didn't like it then.
Before anyone thinks I just don't understand that sort of life, here are my creds: Dad was a truck driver. Mom worked in a plant that molded plastic buttons for calculators. Husband is a mechanic with repetitive motion injuries and grease stained hands. Me, I didn't go to college and I'm a smart-aleck. Does that sound like the makings of a sitcom or what?
Anyway, the character of Juno is 16-years-old, but she has the demeanor of a 20-year-old. And I am so tired of teenagers who have very highly refined tastes in movies. Juno loves spatter films and rattles off the qualities of an obscure director as she banters confidently with a 40-something character. And I know music is the language of adolescence, but she shuns current music fads in favor of music of 1977. I lived through that particular period and know that loving the periods is not refinement but an indication that counseling might be needed. (Of course a lot of it is indie music of the time. Music that no one in 1977 knew existed.)
I know, the quirk factor of regular teens is pretty minimal, but please spare me the wise-beyond-their-years-and-beyond-any-adults-present.
And I know, it's a comedy. Yeah, yeah, I got that.
It was a touching movie. The most honest parts were when the cobbled-together adoption looks like it's going to sink when the adoptive couple face divorce. (Which was a bit cliche as it was the husband who didn't want to grow up. Any man with that many crow's feet who says, "I'm not sure I'm ready to become a father," was giving off signs all along!)
Anyway, I'm glad I saw it, but I won't be buying it. Too much patter, not enough vulnerability. (Yes, she did cry when she gave up the baby. In fact, I liked both the Junos, the movie and the character, much better post partum. too bad it was pretty much over by then.
Take care--Susan Kaye
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| Dream 47
"Hers was indomitable as always. Mine, I'm sure, was red and shocked. To make matters worse, I was out of breath. The only room I could have was in the back on the top floor," he explained
I couldn't help smiling at this. "So, go on. What did she want of you?"
"She said she had heard I was in the area and wanted to see it for herself. I was sure I was in for some sort of reprimand, but she made it quickly clear that she was glad Anne had a few friends willing to remain by her side. Elliot was standing back and allowing you to bear the brunt of society's animosity, and be pilloried in the finest salons of your circle. She could not help hearing it, and was shocked. I admit that I still am amazed at his cheek."
"I am not. I can well believe that he would confess to adultery and then find a way to blame me. 'Cheek' is the reason he is such a good lawyer."
"At any rate, I was stunned that she approved of me having anything to do with you more than a courteous nod on the street."
"And how did it feel for the two of you to be allies?"
A wide smile brightened his eyes. "Strange indeed. She went on to say she was grieved to hear that you were being stubborn and not allowing me to make a visit."
"I am surprised she thought so highly of your lack of decorum."
He smiled and ignored my goading. "Even more surprising was a plan she presented me—"
"A plan of hers? I have never thought of my godmother as a clever woman who would plan much more than a card party or picnic."
"Lady Russell is quite a strategist, when it suits her. The plan was to issue you an invitation to the Lodge for the afternoon, then ask if your carriage might be used for an errand. This would leave you without transport, and out of the blue, I would then make an appearance."
"And the assumption was that I would sit still for this?" While it was an audacious plan, I did not see myself surrendering to them so easily.
"Not willingly, no. But your choices would be to either make the half-mile trudge back to Kellynch, in knee-deep mud, or a find a way to endure my presence. We were counting on your persuadable nature to do the latter." He smiled, and remained irritatingly silent.
"Obviously this, or another of your plans brought us together. But I should like to hear my reaction to this first meeting. Was I indeed 'persuadable?'"
"You made lots of noise about finding your boots and leaving, but Amanda scolded you for being a goose, and that you might just as well sit and drink your tea. The mud would still be there if you preferred to leave us later. You stayed all day, I was told."
"But you did not?"
"No, I drank my tea, thanked my hostess and her guest, and then left. We thought it best not to overreach on the first try."
"The two of you rival the Borgias."
"Oh no," he said, touching my chin lightly. "We wanted you very much alive."
"Thankfully. I want to hear more …" Activity in the drive caught my attention. "There is someone visiting. Their carriage is very fine." A barouche with full livery sat in front of the hall, and oddly, a man stood next to it holding a coat and a man's hat. I glanced at Frederick, expecting he could tell me who the visitor might be. I was disturbed to find his face grown taut and his eyes cold. He urged the horses to quicken their pace. Looking back to the carriage, I searched for something familiar and then saw the crest on the door. Before I thought, I stood. "It is William!"
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