For All Whom We Love and Value - Chapter One

Read the Prologue here

The White was an excellent ship, in Phoebe's admittedly very limited experience.

She was Captained by Admiral Croft, a good-humored man promoted after the Trafalgar action some years ago and stationed in India ever since. Phoebe had encountered the Admiral and his wife at a party some years ago, where Mrs Croft had been praised openly as the kind of Naval wife one wanted aboard a ship, and in whispered rumours as half the reason the White had so few dicipline problems among the newer sailors, compared to other ships of its kind. Mrs Croft was as kind and good natured as her husband, but Phoebe had seen her silence a young Midshipman, who had been so ill-mannered as to whistle at another young lady on the docks, with no more than a quelling glare.

The first week of the long journey was spent in the passenger cabin, miserably sea-sick and desperately thankful for the kind nursing of Mrs Croft and an English maid, Sarah, whose former employers hadn't cared to arrange her passage home when they returned to London. Mrs Croft was excited for the rare female company on board, almost as excited as Phoebe was to be reunited with Anthony. (Phoebe reminded herself that she really must get used to calling him 'Lord Barrington', at least until they were actually married.)

By the third week, passing through the Gulf of Oman on their way to the East Coast of Africa, Phoebe had her sea-legs, as the sailors called it. Once she could stand without wobbling and casting up her accounts, Phoebe could see why Mrs Croft had been so determined to sail with her husband. Indeed, she was determined that she would never tire of a deck rolling beneath her feet, nor of watching the endless expanse of blue waves passing by.

That opinion was moderated somewhat a month later, after consistently good weather interspaced with brief rains was replaced by the howling gales apparently common to Cape Horn. There had been at least a dozen times that Phoebe was sure the White would go down, and all hands with it, but they came through safely.

The markets of Africa's Ivory Coast were a wonder to behold, even if Phoebe understood little of the languages spoken. She and Mrs Croft had spent the day wandering through, while the White re-supplied and caught up with the latest news. Phoebe purchased a small ivory statuette of a man and woman reaching toward each other, thinking that it would make a nice gift for Anthony.

Eighteen months apart was too long.

Casablanca in Morocco was their final stop in Africa, before Gibraltar and the southern tip of Spain came into view, the final stretch of their long journey. Mrs Croft and Sarah joined her at the rail. "I imagine you are eager for the journey to be over?"

Sarah nodded eagerly, "I've not seen my sisters for almost six years. 'Tis part of life in service, being separated for long periods, but my oldest sister was maid to some young gentlewomen, in Hertfordshire. Three of them are recently married, and said that she might be able to get me a position with one of the eldest two."

Mrs Croft smiled with the sageness of experience. "I've been away from England for almost nine years. Admiral Croft was promoted shortly after the Trafalagar action in the Year Five, and we've been stationed near India ever since. My oldest brother, Edmund, has a living in Shropshire, and can be relied upon to write regularly. Fredrick at least has an excuse, he is Captain on the Laconia, and must wait for shore leave or a mail ship before he can reliably send word."

Suddenly, Phoebe's eighteen-month separation seemed almost insignificant in comparison. "The man who was courting me received an unexpected inheritance. He proposed before he left, and drafted a settlement with my father, which he had drawn up in England and sent for my father to sign, with a letter asking me to come as quickly as I might secure passage. The letter I sent back should predate me by about a fortnight, the ships leaving before then had no space for female passengers."

Mrs Croft laughed, "Well, that puts paid to my cunning plan to introduce you to my brother! How he has remained unmarried these many years, despite promotion and fortune, I cannot fathom! Still, I hope that you will visit us when the Admiral and I find a place to settle. Sarah, that extends to you, as well, though we will need to find a home before we can offer you a place there."

Phoebe had counted Mrs Croft as a friend from her second week aboard the White, once she was aware enough of her surroundings to realize who was helping to nurse her. To have a friend as she found her feet in a new country was a blessing. "I should like that above all things. What is the usual procedure upon disembarking?"

There was a brief period of silence as Mrs Croft considered. "It is perhaps ten days from Gibralter to the Bay of Biseay, then another week to England. We will anchor at Southend-upon-sea, for the Admiralty cannot have an entire Navy taking up the Thames, and rest overnight before travelling to London, about a day's journey away."

Good winds cut seventeen days down to just two weeks, and on the dawn of the twelfth day, Phoebe came up on deck to see land in the distance. She squinted, trying to pinpoint what was different about this time. "Are they meant to be white?"

Mrs Croft, coming up behind her, laughed. "Those are the cliffs of Dover, and yes, there are large chalk deposits that make them look white. I wonder that no-one has written a song about them yet."

Phoebe smiled, feeling a little less silly. "You could, if you wanted."

Sophia laughed again, much louder, loud enough to have the Admiral glancing in their direction with a soft smile. "Oh, no, my attempts at poetry are an affront to anyone forced to read them. I leave that to my brother Edward. A sermon must have something of poetry in it to keep the parishioners from fidgeting, he says, though how much attention is paid depends on the speaker."

Phoebe had shown Anthony the delights of India. She couldn't wait for Anthony to show her the parts of his homeland that he loved.

Kellynch Cottage, Somerset...

Lady Russell was in London for a Seminar of some kind, but she left instructions with her servants that Anne was to be admitted at any time, even if Lady Russell was not present.

Anne was grateful for that, especially now. Father and Elizabeth were for London, and Anne had risen early, taking herself out of the house entirely, to avoid being ordered about like another servant, or called upon to mediate when Elizabeth's maid was on the verge of handing in her notice at the dozenth demand to repack Elizabeth's trunks as she changed her mind again about which dresses to take or leave behind. Doubtless they would return having spent the entire year's profits on a new wardrobe in the latest fashions, but there was little Anne could do about that from Somerset, and likely even less had she been in London. In London, Father and Elizabeth had people to impress, the Dalrymples the least among them, and would hear no argument on the subject. In Somerset, Anne could practice economy while they were away, and perhaps make a start on paying back some of the debts owed here.

That was the other reason she was at Kellynch Cottage; Anne's study at Kellynch Hall was far too easy for Father or Elizabeth to storm into, and Anne did not wish witnesses to her current project until the last possible moment. Working out potential plans to bring the family finances under control was difficult enough, without interruptions and tantrums at the very idea disrupting her solitude.

Father would be furious no matter what, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he would have no choice. It would take debts on the scale of the Prince Regent before the Courts would enforce repayment on a member of the Peerage, even a Baronet; they preferred to rely in the honor and decency of rank to police themselves. Therein, of course, lay the problem: if Father's debts became common knowledge, the loss of standing would be immeasurable.

Very little short of Treason or a lack of heirs could take away a title, once bestowed, but Merchants would refuse to extend credit, and the elevated company Father preferred might decline him entry to their homes. Anne knew that she and her family would have very different ideas of which option would be more devastating, but neither was desirable.

Really, there were times that Anne wished herself on the other side of the world, rather than trapped here with her family.

Read the next chapter here...

Natasja Rose is the author of two Austen Variations and twenty-nine non-Austen books of various genres, two of which are being adapted as scripts for a mini-series.

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