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Authors: Julie Klassen
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he has also made a tidy fortune by the war. The reckoning of his prize money is said to surpass twenty thousand pounds. . . .’ ”
He read several more lines, but Mariah barely heard them, the staggering figure still echoing in her mind.
Martin set aside the clipping and picked up his dishcloth once more. “He’s no Admiral Nelson, mind. Nelson made captain by age twenty. Did you know he had his right arm amputated and was back on duty thirty minutes later?”
Mariah shook her head.
“Still, Captain Bryant has quite a reputation for determination in battle. He captured several ships, both enemy and merchant, which outmanned and outgunned his smaller frigate. Impressive indeed.”
Mariah had difficulty imaging such fierceness in the man, when he had seemed timid with a mere horse. But then again, was he not insisting on “prize money” of a sort from her?
“Sounds merciless, this Captain Bryant,” she murmured.
Martin lifted the carving knife high to inspect it. In the sunlight streaming through the window, the blade glinted. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I for one would not want to be his enemy.”
Captain Wentworth,
with five-and-twenty thousand pounds,
and as high in his profession as merit and activity
could place him, was no longer nobody.
– Jane Austen, Persuasion
chapter 7
The navy had been good to him. Not only had Matthew achieved the rank of captain before the age of thirty, but he had also made his fortune by the war. Now, having claimed his prize money of more than five-and-twenty thousand pounds, he was no longer nobody.
It was time he made this fact known.
His plan was a simple one: set himself up in a fine estate and enlist the help of his highborn friend, Captain Ned Parker, in reintroducing him to society. After all, it was through Parker that Matthew had first met her some four and a half years before.
In letting Windrush Court, he had accomplished the first item on his agenda. He had also ordered a gentleman’s wardrobe and had resigned himself to submitting to the ministrations of Prin-Hallsey’s valet, one of the many servants that came part and parcel with the estate.
Once he grew accustomed to his new environs and mastered the gentleman’s life, he would invite that certain lady and several others of her set to a house party – two or three weeks of shooting, riding, balls, and fine dinners. She would see his success, his transformation, and realize that she had been wrong to reject him, to concur with her father’s assessment that he was beneath her. And Matthew would win her at last.
Isabella.
She had been only eighteen when she’d rejected him, and was still young. He had been surprised and relieved to learn that she had not yet married. How he had worried she would. Yes, Parker confided, an engagement had recently been announced. But as long as she was not married, there was still hope – slim though it might be.
Matthew acknowledged he was likely deceiving himself. That in reality he had no chance. But he could not accept defeat. It was not in his nature. He was determined to wage one final campaign to secure her affections.
Matthew told himself his plan was not purely selfish. After all, he had written to invite Lieutenant William Hart, who had once served as his first officer, to reside with him. Hart had been injured in the line of duty, and Matthew felt responsible for the man. Besides, he truly liked Hart and looked forward to furthering his acquaintance with his brother officer.
But first, Matthew hoped to persuade his parents to leave their small, damp cottage and live with him – to allow his mother the comfort and care she so richly deserved after a lifetime of scraping by. That was a selfless wish, was it not?
Then why did his palms sweat at the thought of presenting the offer to his father?
Matthew surveyed the small study of his modest childhood home, situated on an unfashionable side street in Swindon. He looked at his retired-clerk
He read several more lines, but Mariah barely heard them, the staggering figure still echoing in her mind.
Martin set aside the clipping and picked up his dishcloth once more. “He’s no Admiral Nelson, mind. Nelson made captain by age twenty. Did you know he had his right arm amputated and was back on duty thirty minutes later?”
Mariah shook her head.
“Still, Captain Bryant has quite a reputation for determination in battle. He captured several ships, both enemy and merchant, which outmanned and outgunned his smaller frigate. Impressive indeed.”
Mariah had difficulty imaging such fierceness in the man, when he had seemed timid with a mere horse. But then again, was he not insisting on “prize money” of a sort from her?
“Sounds merciless, this Captain Bryant,” she murmured.
Martin lifted the carving knife high to inspect it. In the sunlight streaming through the window, the blade glinted. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I for one would not want to be his enemy.”
Captain Wentworth,
with five-and-twenty thousand pounds,
and as high in his profession as merit and activity
could place him, was no longer nobody.
– Jane Austen, Persuasion
chapter 7
The navy had been good to him. Not only had Matthew achieved the rank of captain before the age of thirty, but he had also made his fortune by the war. Now, having claimed his prize money of more than five-and-twenty thousand pounds, he was no longer nobody.
It was time he made this fact known.
His plan was a simple one: set himself up in a fine estate and enlist the help of his highborn friend, Captain Ned Parker, in reintroducing him to society. After all, it was through Parker that Matthew had first met her some four and a half years before.
In letting Windrush Court, he had accomplished the first item on his agenda. He had also ordered a gentleman’s wardrobe and had resigned himself to submitting to the ministrations of Prin-Hallsey’s valet, one of the many servants that came part and parcel with the estate.
Once he grew accustomed to his new environs and mastered the gentleman’s life, he would invite that certain lady and several others of her set to a house party – two or three weeks of shooting, riding, balls, and fine dinners. She would see his success, his transformation, and realize that she had been wrong to reject him, to concur with her father’s assessment that he was beneath her. And Matthew would win her at last.
Isabella.
She had been only eighteen when she’d rejected him, and was still young. He had been surprised and relieved to learn that she had not yet married. How he had worried she would. Yes, Parker confided, an engagement had recently been announced. But as long as she was not married, there was still hope – slim though it might be.
Matthew acknowledged he was likely deceiving himself. That in reality he had no chance. But he could not accept defeat. It was not in his nature. He was determined to wage one final campaign to secure her affections.
Matthew told himself his plan was not purely selfish. After all, he had written to invite Lieutenant William Hart, who had once served as his first officer, to reside with him. Hart had been injured in the line of duty, and Matthew felt responsible for the man. Besides, he truly liked Hart and looked forward to furthering his acquaintance with his brother officer.
But first, Matthew hoped to persuade his parents to leave their small, damp cottage and live with him – to allow his mother the comfort and care she so richly deserved after a lifetime of scraping by. That was a selfless wish, was it not?
Then why did his palms sweat at the thought of presenting the offer to his father?
Matthew surveyed the small study of his modest childhood home, situated on an unfashionable side street in Swindon. He looked at his retired-clerk
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