Chapter 13: Terms of Endearment

When Vanessa Emerson showed at her parents' home she found Elizabeth Maynard almost vibrating with excitement.

"Coome!" the formerly mute woman urged her new friend leading her up to the room she occupied on the second storey. Here she thrust a letter in Vanessa's hand.

Vanessa quickly flew over the letter from her half brother. The third paragraph made her look up and smile to Elizabeth. She nodded with approval reading how Jeremiah Anson would provide for his promised before she read the last part which did not pertain to Elizabeth. Finished, she tilted her head.

"Are you satisfied with his answer?"

An enthusiastic nod was Elizabeth's answer. She was bursting with happiness and Vanessa found it impossible to resist the urge to hug her friend.

"I am very happy for you, Dearest. I believe this calls for a celebration. How would you like to go out? We could visit a few shops and perhaps have a coffee or chocolate?"

"Yeazz!" was the answer, still mangled but understandable enough.

In no time at all, Elizabeth was ready to go. Vanessa's coach was outside, and the young women settled into the cushions whilst the wheels rattled on the cobbled street. The weather was moderately cold but clear, and they soon left the coach behind to explore the shops on foot. Vanessa needed a new hat band and thus it was the hatter where they stopped first. Leaving the shop they found themselves in front of a bookstore. Elizabeth gave Vanessa a begging look.

"Oh well, let's go in then."

The bookstore was well set up, with the books ordered by genre and authors. Elizabeth dragged her to a shelf that held "light reading" and let her finger travel over the books in the middle section, until she pulled out a rather slim volume and presented it to Vanessa with a triumphant smile.

"Is this something you know?" Vanessa asked, slightly puzzled. "Tea at Sunderland Hall? I never heard of it. Oh! You wrote that?"

Elizabeth nodded emphatically. Taking the book from Vanessa's hand, she strode for the counter where the proprietor was watching them. Before Vanessa could react, Elizabeth had purchased the book which she then presented to Vanessa with a proud smile.

"That is very kind of you, my dear. I shall read it as soon as I am returned home," Vanessa assured her companion.

They next stopped at a coffee parlour to enjoy the stimulating brew. They were sitting at a table sipping coffee and conversing, with Vanessa speaking and Elizabeth writing on her tablet, when a single woman entered the parlour.

"Oh dear! Look, Elizabeth! It's Miss Heyworth, the actress!"

Obviously, Miss Heyworth's fame had reached even Devon, for Elizabeth's eyes went wide. The famous actress chose one of the free tables which happened to be next to theirs. She ordered her coffee and a canapé and sat back, taking off her hat. Vanessa summoned her courage.

"May I express my great admiration for your art, Miss Heyworth?" she asked under her breath, careful not to cause too much of a commotion.

To her delight, the famous actress gave her a brilliant smile. "Why, yes! It is always good to hear praise from the ladies. At least, I can be certain of the sincerity."

"And you deserve it! Oh, I am Vanessa Emerson, and this is my friend Miss Elizabeth Maynard."

"How nice to meet you!" This may have been a formal reply, but it came out convincingly. Then the eyes of the actress widened. "Not the Elizabeth Maynard?"

Elizabeth blushed and shrugged helplessly. Vanessa came to her help.

"You must excuse my friend. She is almost mute and cannot answer in words, but she can write beautifully. She is even a published writer as I just found out!"

"Then she is Elizabeth Maynard, the writer! Oh, dear! I cannot say how much I enjoyed your book, Miss Maynard. It is almost sold out in London. You must be very proud."

Elizabeth made an effort.

"Ah wike witing. Ah wite, no sveak."

"Oh, dear! This must be horrible, to be so fluent in writing and not able to express yourself in words!"

"She lost her voice due to a harrowing experience as a child," Vanessa explained. "She is trying hard to recover it now."

"That is very brave of you, Miss Maynard. Have you considered consulting a speech teacher? There are several in London, mostly trying to drive the various dialects out of the upstarts."

"But that's a brilliant idea!" Vanessa enthused. She saw the self-consciousness in her new friend and paused. "Of course, that is for you to decide, my Dear."

Miss Heyworth had something else on her mind. "Have you ever considered making a theatre play out of your book?"

Elizabeth blushed again and shook her head.

"But it would be perfect! People would love it. There are never enough comedic pieces, and this one is almost like holding a mirror into people's faces."

Elizabeth had her tablet out and scribbled. I would not know how to write a play.

"But would you like to know?" Heyworth smiled.

Elizabeth's wide smile and her emphatic nod were expressive enough, and the actress paused briefly.

"Oh my, but you are a lovely person! Have you lived in London for long?"

Elizabeth shook her head letting her tresses dance.

"Ahm fwom Devn."

"From Devon? Oh, dear! What brings you to the big City?"

Vanessa caught the look from Elizabeth and answered in her stead. "It is almost like a theatre play, Miss Heyworth. Elizabeth was to be married to a perfectly revolting person in spite of her fondness for a Navy gentleman who happens to be my half-brother. On the very wedding day, in front of the church assembly, she collected her courage and her limited speech facilities and shouted a resounding 'No!' Then, with the help of some of my brother's friends, she made her escape from Salcombe."

"A Navy gentleman you say? May I know him?"

"Captain Jeremiah Anson, of H.M. frigate Syren. He commanded the Odin frigate at Trafalgar and was badly wounded," Vanessa stated not without pride. "He took over the Salcombe post of the Sea Fencibles until he recovered, and he met Elizabeth whilst visiting her father who commands the militia in that little port."

Heyworth nodded sadly. "I am quite fond of a Navy captain too. He is married to my best friend, though. You may have heard of Captain Sir Anthony Carter?"

Vanessa had, and she had heard the rumours claiming that the famous actress was Carter's paramour.

"Who would not know that gentleman? He is married to the former Mrs. Palmer, isn't he?"

"Indeed. She is my best friend, and I wish them all the happiness they deserve. Now, how would Miss Maynard like to engage in a little tit-for-tat with me? I could tutor her speech whilst helping her to transform her book into a theatre play. In return, I would ask for the rights to perform the play."

Elizabeth looked at Vanessa for advice who was uncertain what to advise. Heyworth smiled.

"How would your intended like to hear his name from your mouth? Jeremiah is quite difficult to pronounce, isn't it?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she saw the possibilities. She nodded excitedly. Heyworth put a hand on Elizabeth's arm.

"I really must be going now. Let me scribble my address for you. Call on me anytime during the late morning hours, and I should be at home. Now, where to find a scrap paper?"

It was Elizabeth's turn to smile and to put a hand on the actress's arm. She held out her wax tablet and her stylus.

"Oh, this is neat. Here, let me write it down." She did and then bid her farewell, not without giving hugs to the slightly dazed young women.

"Oh, dear! I am friends with a writer and a playwright," Vanessa stated with a grin. "My brother better return soon before you turn the heads of all the men in London."

"Try a simple syllable now. La!"

"Uah!"

"No, no! La! La! La!"

Never would Elizabeth have believed how difficult it was to speak again! At first she had just wanted to learn words in descending order of their importance, but Anita Heyworth would have nothing of that.

'Consonants, my dear! Consonants are the all-important features of civilised speech. Without properly pronounced consonants, you will sound like a drunk, or worse, like an imbecile, ' she had stated, and now Elizabeth practiced consonants.

"Wla!"

"Yes, that was better! Again! La!"

"W ... L-a!"

"Splendid! La!"

"L-la?"

"Very good! Again! La!"

"La!"

"Now try, 'La-la!', my dear. You can do it! La-la!"

"Llalla!"

"No, no! La-la!"

"La-la!"

"La-la-la!"

"La-la-la!"

"I believe you have it now. Again, la-la-la!"

"La-la-la!"

"One of twenty, my Dear," Anita Heyworth smiled at her. "I believe that I taught you a consonant. Now you owe me at least a short conversation. We're in the first scene, with Lady Farnsworth greeting Mr. Lackawit. I don't quite like what you made him say. It's too wordy for this simpleton. Any suggestions?"

Just like that, they were back at the play. Anita had an uncanny ability to detect faults in a dialogue. Elizabeth tried to put herself in her protagonist's shoes. She thought briefly, then scribbled a short sentence on her tablet. Anita watched her and smiled. She pointed at a word, 'menace'.

"Don't you think that 'danger' might be better suited to his simple mind?"

Elizabeth sighed and replaced 'menace' with 'danger'. In her mind, she let the sentence play out. Yes, it was definitely better. She made a face.

'I feel so clumsy, ' she scribbled.

"Don't, my Dear! You have a wonderful sense for creating the atmosphere, for inventing characters. Now you have to learn that a convincing character must have a characteristic speech mannerism. Now, let's move on. Let's make Mr. Lackawit sound just a bit more simple all through the greeting.

Elizabeth raised a finger and inserted a short instruction before Lady Farnsworth's next sentence.

"Yes! That's good!" Anita enthused. "Of course, she would show her annoyance over the stupid man!"

They continued until they had the first two dialogues written down. Then Anita smiled.

"Back to our tutoring. La-la-la!"

"L-la-la-la! La-la-la!"

"Perfect! Now say 'Na!'"

"Nwa? Nnna? Nna! Na!"

"Good! Na!"

"Na!"

"You know what comes next?"

"Na-na-na!"

"How I love to tutor smart people! Again!"

"Na-na-na!"

"Now, let's try something. Say, 'Na-la.'"

"Na-n ... Na-la!"

"Na-la-na!"

"Na-la-l ... Na-la-na!"

"La-na-na!"

"La-la-na!" Realising her mistake, Elizabeth laughed. Her laughter broke off and she stared at Anita incredulously. "A-ie laf-e-d!"

"I guess you did. Wait! You never laughed?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"That is something we need to correct! But back to our exercises. La-na-na!"

"La-na-na!"

"Na-na-la-la!"

"Na-na-la-la!"

"Na-la-ma!"

"Na-la-ma!"

It was Anita's grin that made Elizabeth aware of the trick. The laughter bubbled up again, and she felt like she could never stop again. Oh, this was so funny, so exhilarating!

"I believe that this was the third consonant. Another scene!"

Elizabeth mock-groaned, and even that came out naturally! She gave the actress a spontaneous hug, a hug that was returned.

"Now give me the next scene, and I shall teach you the word 'Jeremiah'," Anita promised with a twinkle in her eye.

"Ramsgate in sight to port, two miles, sir!" Mr. Carling announced, and Anson rose from his desk.

He quickly calculated wind and tide in his mind. With the southwesterly wind they should be able to beat upstream for Sheerness before the tide turned. In the worst of cases they would anchor for the night and use the morning tide for the last miles.

"How are we running?" he asked, deep in thought.

"Six to six-and-a-half knots, sir."

"Let us continue on this course for a half hour before we'll bring her to the wind, Mr. Carling. I'd like to clear the Foreland as close as possible."

"Aye-aye, sir. Shall I still cut the water rations?"

Anson thought briefly. "We had better, Mr. Carling. We still have for ten days, but things may go wrong. Two-thirds rations."

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Have the purser dole out some light ale for supper to make up for the water shortage."

It was not critical if they ran out of ale. It would keep the spirits up in this miserable weather. It had been raining almost continuously for the past three weeks, and nobody had a stitch of dry clothing on. Even with Stevens's careful drying, Anson's shirts were damp as were his breeches and coats. Worse, for three days they had to keep the pantry fire doused due to heavy weather. At least the wind had moderated and the cook and his mates had served them a hot meal.

"Where is the prize?"

"Keeping position to leeward, sir."

That would make up for a lot of bad weather. Syren had made quite the catch, a Dutch brigantine with a cargo of small arms and gunpowder intended for the French garrison in Brugge, or as the French called it, Bruges. The muskets were of German manufacture, having come down the River Rhine and to Rotterdam where the brigantine took them over. The cargo would sell well, whilst the ship was only three years old and valuable by herself.

"Very well. Call me if my presence is needed, Mr. Carling."

"Aye-aye, sir," was the inevitable answer.

Anson appeared on deck when the bell sounded. It was 4 bells in the afternoon watch, and it was light outside. Anson could make out the foreland two miles to port and a mile astern.

"About time, Mr. Carling. Stand by tops'l sheets! Quartermaster, six points to Port!"

"Six points to Port, aye-aye, sir!" the helmsman repeated.

Syren was now sailing close to the southwestern wind for the final 28 sea miles. Anson knew that so close to the wind, she would need five to six hours counting the drift. It would be evening before they could cast anchor.

Later, towards evening, the wind veered into a more southerly direction, giving Syren added speed. They reached Garrison Point during the second dogwatch and showed the night recognition signal. It was acknowledged, and Syren edged into the River Medway estuary to cast anchor.

Finally, the sails could be furled. A hot supper was served to the weary men, and everybody save for an anchor watch was sent below. Anson finished his reports before he turned in himself, but he was up before sunrise to write a letter to Elizabeth, informing her of his brief stay at Sheerness to take on fresh water and to replenish stores. He wrote that whilst he expected a stay of likely four or five days, he would not be able to make the journey to London as his duties did not allow him to leave his ship.

Stevens came with coffee then and with fresh water for shaving and washing. Anson took his time knowing that hectic activity would set in early enough. Stevens was ordered to sacrifice the last treasures from the cabin stores for a good breakfast, and when the dawn turned into morning, he was ready to face the day.