Chapter 1
"I've given it quite serious thought, Anne. If we can persuade your father to all of this, he'll be in the clear in just a few years," Mrs. Russell was saying to Anne over dinner. She slid a piece of paper over to Anne, who scanned it quickly. Let go of the maids, sell the cars, etc, etc… Anne sighed and set the paper down.
"No, you were right, Susan. They need to move out of the house… at least for a while," Anne said. She was secretly very pleased that Susan had even thought to ask for her opinion – something her father and sister would never do – and was determined to make it known, for once. "Kellynch is too big for them. It was fine when we all lived there, but now that it's just the two of them…"
"I'm glad you think so. Shepherd thinks we'll be able to persuade them to move to a small beach home. It's perfectly respectable… many men at his age and in his situation do so. Don't you think so?"
"Absolutely. I know it won't take much to convince Elizabeth to go live at the beach," Anne said with a smile.
Susan nodded in agreement. "They could just live in a small oceanfront home with no servants. Perfectly agreeable."
"Absolutely not! I'll never allow it. Leave Kellynch? It's unthinkable."
Mr. Elliot stood up and turned his back to Mr. Shepherd, Susan, and Anne. Elizabeth scoffed in agreement and tossed her blonde hair.
"Daddy and I would never even think of moving to a smaller house. How dare you even suggest it!" she said, standing up in a huff as well.
Anne rolled her eyes. "So much for being agreeable," she muttered to Susan.
Susan shook her head and crossed the room to Walter and Elizabeth. "It's perfectly respectable," she said to them in a low, soothing voice. "And it would only be for a few years."
Walter puffed out his chest and pointed to a framed picture on the wall. "Do you know what that is?" he demanded. "That is Her Majesty the Queen knighting me for outstanding contribution to the arts community of the United Kingdom. Sir Walter Elliot will not be humiliated by being kicked out of his own home!"
Susan turned to Mr. Shepherd with pleading eyes. Shepherd, an older man with a pot belly and gray mustache, sighed and stood up as well.
"Walt, this will not be a humiliation. You can rent out this house for a few years and go live on the beach – we'll tell the press you just need the relaxtion."
"Live on the beach?" Elizabeth repeated, her eyes lighting up.
"Why not London?" Walter insisted, placing his hands on his hips.
"London's even more expensive than living here, Dad," Anne said, speaking up for the first time. "It wouldn't help at all."
"You live there," her father said contemptuously. "How expensive could it be?"
"I want to live on the beach, Daddy!" Elizabeth interjected, tugging on her father's sleeve.
"Think about it Walt," Shepherd continued. "You'll come back looking tan and rested, your money will be replenished…" he trailed off as they all watched Walter's face slowly change from adamant to warily consenting.
"Fine," he finally declared. "But this house must be let to someone that I approve of."
"Of course, Walter," Susan said, with a relieved smile.
"I'll ask around to see if anyone's looking for a house," Shepherd said.
"Don't you dare put it in the classifieds!" Walter cried.
"Of course not, Walt, of course not," Shepherd said quickly.
"I'm going to go shopping for a new bathing suit!" Elizabeth said, clapping her hands.
Anne shook her head, but let out a sigh of relief. As her father and sister bustled off to go shopping, she grinned at Susan and poured two cups of tea.
"Well, that went better than I expected, I must admit," Anne said to Susan as they sank onto the couch.
"Indeed," Susan said, raising her cup; Anne clinked it and they sipped. Suddenly, Susan looked around suspiciously, then leaned in to Anne and spoke in a low voice. "Hopefully this will also get your sister away from that awful Jane, as well."
"Jane Clay? Shepherd's daughter?" Anne said, her brow furrowed.
"Yes. She's a terrible influence on your sister," Susan whispered.
Anne drank her tea, still frowning. She had never really understood why Susan seemed to feel so protective of Elizabeth – never as protective as she was of Anne, but kindly and concerned nonetheless. Elizabeth was not one to take advice, and Anne wondered why Susan didn't just give up. Anne had, a long time ago. Besides, from what Anne knew of her, it was little wonder that Jane had befriended Elizabeth. Anne had met Jane a few times, and saw her as a clever, if somewhat careless, woman. Jane was the same age as Elizabeth, but had married some starving artist and had two kids, only to be abandoned by him about a year later. Anne knew Susan didn't like her because she was uneducated and not very well off; Anne, in the few times she had been in Jane's company, had seen her as excellent at the art of empty flattery – something both her father and sister loved.
"Well, maybe Liz will meet new people at the beach," Anne said.
"I hope so," Susan said, nodding.
Anne smiled at her friend. Susan Russell was a good woman, but always a bit shallow. Anne put it down to all those drugs in the '70s.
"Well, I'm off to Mary's," Anne said, standing. "Call me if Shepherd finds anyone."
"Will do, darling."
It was just a short walk to Mary and Charles' house, so Anne left her small car in her father's driveway and strolled over. Mary and her family lived in a fifteen-room brick mansion that was far too big for them. The yard was nice and large for the boys to run around in, but Mary had filled the inside with priceless art and glassware that was just waiting to be broken.
Anne didn't knock at the front door, but just walked in. She was instantly met by their Sheltie, Duncan. The huge black and white dog bounded up to Anne, almost knocking her over. She laughed and knelt down to greet him properly, rubbing her hands through his silky fur.
"Oh, Anne, it's you. I thought I heard the door."
Anne looked up to see Mary coming into the foyer through the living room doors. She was a sullen-looking young woman of medium height, petite shoulders, and tiny waist; people were always shocked to hear that she had had two children in the past five years, but Mary took her yogilates very seriously. She and Anne shared the same toffee-colored hair, but instead of Anne's brown eyes, she had the same clear blue ones as Elizabeth.
"The boys are upstairs. Go help them with their homework… I'm running out to the mall, but I'll probably be back before dinner," Mary said, slipping on her coat and purse. Anne subtly rolled her eyes.
"Sure, Mary," she said.
"Charles is still at the office… who knows when he'll be home," Mary said as she walked out the door. "See you later." The door slammed.
"You're welcome," Anne muttered under her breath, but then clapped her hands and followed the dog up the stairs to her nephews.
The following Sunday, the entire family plus Susan and Mr. Shepherd were sitting around the dining room table eating brunch. The mood was decidedly hushed and tense, but finally Mr. Shepherd cleared his throat.
"Walt, I may have found someone to rent the house," he said tentatively.
Anne's father made a soft disgruntled sound in his throat. "Who?"
"Well, I think it's best if we go with someone also in the entertainment business but not really in the public eye."
"Who?" Mr. Elliot repeated.
"John Croft."
"Who?" everyone said in unison.
"He's a television producer. Very well-respected… he's made some very good shows in the States," Shepherd explained. "He's an excellent man to rent the house, Walt. He's married but has no children. He lives very quietly, isn't looking to renovate or anything. The wife doesn't work, so she can look after the house and grounds. Also, she happens to know the area."
"How could she?" Elizabeth asked.
"Her brother used to live right in this neighborhood… he used to run the hotel." Shepherd paused. "Oh confound it, I've forgotten the name now. What was it?" He looked around the table for help.
Everyone spluttered, except for Anne. Her hand had frozen midway reaching for her drink.
"All I can remember is old Trent," Walt said.
"No, no… oh, I can picture him exactly…" Shepherd trailed off.
Everyone looked blankly at each other.
"Wentworth," Anne finally said. "His name was Wentworth."
"Wentworth! That's exactly it!" Shepherd said, laughing.
Walter pursed his lips, and Shepherd quickly saw he was getting nowhere by mentioning Wentworth. He quickly continued expounding Croft's numerous attributes, while the table listened intently.
But not everyone was listening. Anne's cheeks burned as she downed her orange juice; she could feel Susan's piercing eyes on her, but refused to turn her head. Her heart was positively racing.
"Fine. Fine. I will meet this Croft," Walter finally said loudly.
Relieved smiles and laughs were shared throughout the table, and excited conversation soon echoed about the room. No one noticed, therefore, when Anne quietly excused herself and hurried outside. The breeze cooled her flushed face, but she soon couldn't help but smile. Just a few weeks, she thought to herself, and he might be here.
A/N: Finally! I really do apologize for the excruciatingly long wait… I kept hoping to write the second chapter but this semester at school has been far more work than I anticipated. It took me quite off guard.
Anyway, there it is, the second chapter! I know it's a little short, but please review and tell me how I'm doing… please! Next chapter we see what happened with Anne and Frederick eight years ago… hopefully it will be done in a more reasonable amount of time.
Love, luck, and flying Ringwraiths,
Emma the NazgulQueen