Tides of Bath: A Retelling of Persuasion by Newton Priors

Author:Newton Priors [Priors, Newton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Persuasion - Jane Austen, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Goodreads: 55853538
Published: 2020-11-05T05:00:00+00:00

***

Wentworth was seated in his room. He had been unable to focus all day, wandering from room to room, his sister and the Admiral both out. Miss Ustus' copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets was now in his hand as he sat, open to Sonnet 97. He had read it several times during the day, drawn back to the book and the Sonnet irresistibly.

Wentworth was certain that Miss Ustus pressed the book on him as a memorial of her, of Miss Ustus, but it was instead a memorial of Anne Elliot, of her darkest eyes as she left the dinner the night before.

"I'll be d — d!" Wentworth finally whispered fiercely, under his breath. It was all a mystery. Every time he thought he put Anne Elliot behind him, he found her before him again. What did it mean, her mentioning this particular Sonnet?

He had no sure answer and the walls of his room seemed to be closing in on him, and so he stood, snatched up his hat and gloves, and went out to the street. He needed to walk, to think. He had not gotten far and had only gotten his gloves on when he saw Mrs. Collins.

She recognized him and waved, her pink cheeks plumping with a welcoming smile. Wentworth stopped, removed his cap, and bowed. She gave him a quick, clumsy curtsy.

"Captain, very good to see you. I heard that you had a capital dinner with Mr. and Miss Ustus last night. I talked to her this morning, and she was full of...nothing else." Mrs. Collins' voice had a wink in it somewhere. "I heard it was a very high-toned affair, with Sir Walter himself there, and recitals of poems!" She said the last word with two distinct syllables.

"Yes, it was a fine dinner. The Elliots were there. All except Miss Elliot, who is still recuperating from her infection.

Mrs. Collins waved her plump pink hand. "Oh, yes, I know all about it. My good friend, Nurse Rook, has been caring for Miss Elliot. She believes Miss Elliot will soon be strong enough to leave the bed. — And there were poems?"

Wentworth had hoped that part of the story would be dropped. "Yes, ma'am, there were poems, sonnets."

Mrs. Collins scrunched her eyes. "Sonnets? Is that a kind of poem?"

Wentworth nodded.

"Well," the lady continued, "I must say I don't recall ever being at a dinner that ended with a course of sonnets."

"It has not been a common occurrence for me, either, Mrs. Collins."

"Miss Ustus is a clever one, isn't she, Captain. Reading poetry and being such a fine, beautiful lady, but I suppose I needn't tell you all that?" Her voice again contained a wink.

Wentworth was frustrated, distracted, eager to move on. "I admire Miss Ustus, and any may know that," Wentworth said, with a sharpness he did not intend.

Mrs. Collins blinked. "I hope...I'm sorry…"

Wentworth gave her a quick bow, freeing her from going on. "Forgive me, Mrs. Collins. I am not quite myself today. I do not mean to sound.

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