Section I,Next Section

Author's Note: This is a story of what might have taken place if Mr. Elliot had returned, before Anne's wedding to Captain Wentworth.

Part I

The fresh, salty air greeted Anne Elliot as she stood on the stone promenade at Lyme. It was near sunset and the resident of this seaside town were scurrying home for the night. Smiling to herself, she remembered her first visit to the pleasant port months before with Charles, Mary, Henrietta, Louisa, and...Frederick.

A tender blush crept into her cheeks, which were already rosy from the breeze. Frederick. She could call him that now. In her heart and to his face. No longer was he the forbidden Captain Wentworth of whom she must not speak or think. He was soon to be her husband and those lonely days would be over for both of them.

True, the progress since his proposal had not been entirely smooth. Her father and sister's shocked expressions, Lady Russell's gasp of disapproval, Mr. Elliot's turning livid...the pictures played out in her mind painfully. Being the kind of person who wanted to please others instead of herself for so many years, Anne had been somewhat upset by these events. But in the past months she had undergone a change. She had come out of the shadows and claimed her life. A life that would now be forever connected with Frederick.

Now they were all in Lyme visiting the Harvilles for a final time. Capt. Harville, whose leg wound still pained him, was not returning to sea. It had left the growing family in a financial bind. But Anne had not needed to even drop a hint of it to her husband-to-be. He had quietly, with no fuss, paid the Harville's shot for the next months. Frederick had gently told her that he owed his friend a debt he could never repay with money.

"What do I not owe him for his friendship?" he had said last night. "But he also helped me to see that I was not foolish to think of our being reunited. I will never forget eavesdropping on your conversation that day at the inn. When he verbally jousted with you about women's fickleness. Listening to your reply was the final spur to my efforts."

His arm about her, Anne had timidly laid her head on his broad shoulder. She was still so unused to his nearness, it was like a balm to her heart. "I, too, was greatly moved by his avowal of love and constancy to his wife and family. It is too much a pity that he cannot return to sea when you take your leave next month."

Anne, Frederick, and the Crofts had all traveled down to Lyme after the double wedding of the Musgrove girls. It had been a charming affair to see the sweet young ladies married. Despite the fact that Captain Benwick and Louisa had insisted on Anne reading quotations from Byron and Scott during the ceremony. Anne had forced herself to keep her eyes on the page and not the dancing eyes of Frederick, who had found such a thing rather amusing.

The visit thus far had been so enjoyable. She was learning to love her future sister-in-law, who was giving her helpful advice on how to be a sailor's wife. It was not easy, Sophie had claimed, but loving a man of the British Navy never was. However, the rewards could be more than plentiful.

Anne watched as a young lad dashed past her, obviously in a hurry to get his supper. Tucking a stray lock of hair back, she opened the letter that Mrs. Smith had posted to her. She had wanted some time alone to read it, to see how her friend was holding up. Frederick had gone out of his way to assure the young widow that he would help her in any way that he could to recover some of her fortune.

Anne's gentle eyes scanned the page and suddenly a cold hand reached up about her heart. No, it could not be. It simply could not be.

"I have the misfortune of informing you that Mr. Elliot has returned to Bath to court your father's favor. It appears that he has paid off his debts and is begging forgiveness. He denies all involvement with Mrs. Clay and claims that he had urgent business to attend to. What rubbish! You and I are both quite aware with the dangerous elements of his character. I gently warn you to be on your guard should your father or sister tell you of his return."

Staring out at the lapping waves with unseeing eyes, Anne unconsciously crumpled the paper in her hand. Mr. Elliot had nearly destroyed her future hopes with Frederick. How dare he show his face again and deny the truth of his actions. Surely he could not threaten her happiness now?

"I think I shall have to have a painting drawn of you like this," a quiet, loving voice spoke very close by. "The sea air against your cheek makes it glow as do your eyes."

Guiltily, Anne turned to face her fiancee and pasted on a happy smile. Frederick must not know any of this. It would only upset him. He had enough on his mind at present as he prepared his ship for service. It took up all of his time and energy. "It would be a sad bargain," she told him softly, her eyes lifted to meet his dark ones. "My hair is a sad tangle as I well know it. Surely you would rather have something more elegant on your wall?"

He looked so very handsome in his naval uniform, the dark blue color making his eyes snap and twinkle. He smiled, something had made him appear even more vibrant and masculine. "Shall I tell you that you are the only thing that truly matters to me now? I have no need of pictures or ornaments when I have your lovely face to look to."

A look of wordless adoration passed between them. Frederick had often said he was no speech maker. But Anne found that not to be the case always. However, most of the time his gaze spoke for him. It told of years of longing and discontent now utterly satisfied in loving her and holding her as his own.

Frederick reached for her hands and drew her near, their gloved strength unable to resist. "I love you, Anne Elliot. And when I am off on this voyage and standing on deck, I will remember that. I will remember this moment when we stood here and your eyes reflected the sunset and the ocean's beauty like a mirror. And I shall not forget."

Disregarding those walking past with curious eyes, Frederick gently drew her into his arms and Anne sighed with audible joy and relief. The letter must be forgotten. He was so strong, his arms a haven from which she never wanted to depart.

But in Bath, the trouble was just beginning....

Part II

In Bath, Sir Walter Elliot and his elegant daughter Elizabeth were sharing a late breakfast together. They were recounting the evening's entertainment at Lady Dalrymple's fine home. It had been a splendid affair and the Elliot family had shone in its greatest light. The finest names in Bath society had been present and that was certainly to be deemed an advantage!

"The music might have been better," Elizabeth drawled languidly as she poked at a piece of toast on her plate. "I would mark it as fair, nothing out of the common. If you enjoy Italian love songs. But who truly noticed? Lady Dalrymple was prodigiously talkative with you, Papa. I was happy to observe it."

Giving her a self-indulgent smile, Sir Walter nodded as he regarded his eldest child. "She did indeed. Such a charming, stylish woman! And to be related to so refined and elegant a lady. Elizabeth, I count it the wisest choice I ever made when we removed to Bath. I was only telling Lord Mayhew the other day that it was my idea that we come here. And he remarked that it was certainly to the betterment of Bath society that I made such a decision."

Before Elizabeth could speak, a servant noiselessly entered the finely-appointed breakfast room bearing a note on a silver salver. Sir Walter swept it up with his hand, dismissing the servant with an airy wave. How he did hate how they crept up like ghosts at times and caught one unawares. It nearly gave him apoplexy at times.

"Papa, what is it you have received?" Elizabeth sharply asked, her voice high and strident. "It is not another note from Mr. Elliot, I hope."

Sir Walter harumphed tiredly. "Unfortunately, it is. Much as I dislike that young man for upsetting our family circle, I am wondering if it is wise to continue refusing to see him. People will talk, you know."

Elizabeth colored, remembering how difficult it had been to quiet the talk after the announcement of Anne's engagement to Captain Wentworth. How dare she cause such a stir, Elizabeth thought bitterly. She, Elizabeth, was the eldest and the most beautiful Elliot daughter. Was she to be continually treated shabbily and not given the respect that was due her?

It was truly revolting how everyone hummed around Anne with congratulations and good wishes. Anne was such a quiet, unsophisticated person, nothing at all like herself. Who cared if she wanted to waste her life on a sailor like Captain Wentworth. He would likely be killed at sea during some awful battle with the Frenchies and Anne would be left a widow. Well, she had best not come crawling home to Kellynch. There would be no warm reception for her there.

Pushing aside the note, Sir Walter stood. "I will send round a note saying I will meet with Mr. Elliot, Elizabeth. Something must be salvaged from this sad business of ours. Sir Marlowe told me last night that the chap had paid off his debts and had come into a startling bit of money from secret investments."

This was news indeed! Elizabeth started, colored again and murmured almost to herself, "He is rich once more. Truly, how amazing! Perhaps there is a way out of this tangle after all."

Elizabeth's head danced with untold visions. Grand parties in London that she would host with the style of Lady Jersey. Wearing the finest fashions from Bond Street. Riding in Hyde Park. If she might persuade Mr. Elliot to marry her, all these things could be hers. Bath was all very fine but London...she would return to her former glory. How wonderful that would be!

She remembered the rumors that Mr. Elliot had placed Mrs. Clay under his protection. Surely that must be false. Penelope was too plain, too poor for one as dashing as Mr. Elliot! Mostly likely she had run off with someone of a much lower order.

Sir Walter arose from the table with a resolute set to his noble chin. "Yes, I'll send Mathers round to the White Hart this very morning with a note saying I will meet with him."

Elizabeth smiled archly and preened herself. "Yes, Papa, I think perhaps you should."

Part III

It was a pleasant fall morning in Lyme and Captain Frederick Wentworth was enjoying some morning quiet in the nearly deserted dining room of the Boar's Head Inn with his sister Sophy Croft. Close to each other from the time they were in leading strings, their mutual love of the sea only made them more attuned to each other's feelings and wishes.

"Frederick, I know your mind is full of plans for you upcoming voyage but I did want to broach a delicate matter with you," she gently said, enjoying a cup of strong tea. "You may think me impertinent but you do know I make these actions out of love for you."

Frederick looked up from his plate and saw that while his sister's face possessed its usually warm expression, there was a look of concern resting amid it. "Sophy, you may say anything to me as you well know it. Have you not been teasing me, wheedling me, and telling me the straight truth since I was but a boy?"

A chuckle lightened the mood for a moment. "Certainly I have! And had I not done so you would not be the fine figure of a man and British Naval captain you are today. You know it is my chief delight to cause you to knit your brows with consternation."

She paused and grew more serious as the only other occupant in the room hustled out to greet a new day. "Dear Frederick, I have a notion that some distressing news has reached our dear Anne. She was so quiet last evening after reading her letter on the Cobb and you brought her back. True, she smiled and spoke kindly as always. But having come to know her better, I sense she is troubled."

The light, amused expression that had been playing about Frederick's lips vanished like the morning mist. When Sophy spoke in such a manner, he took it seriously. For a moment, he did not speak but ruminated on this information with true concern. Anything concerning Anne was of the first importance to him now. It did not surprise him that his perceptive sister had noticed Anne's reticence.

His dark eyes met his sister's. "I came upon her at dusk reading that letter and she was indeed engrossed in it. Perhaps I should have asked of its contents but I was distracted by...something else," he paused with a slight smile of remembrance. "She is so sensible a woman, not wanting to alarm me or divert my attention when I am in such a dither to get the Laconia in order. What a treasure my Anne is! Will I ever truly esteem her worth to me?"

Sophy watched with affection as her brother's features seemed to glow with pride and true appreciation for his future bride. She had not known until his announcement of his engagement to Anne that he had been refused eight years and a half ago. It was the only subject, indeed an emotional one, he had never revealed to her. Too painful until now to share.

For so long the sea had been his life. He had gone so far as to vow he would never have a woman on his ship. Sailing 'round the world had been his life's ambition and to gain some financial footing. Now she was seeing the livelier, more loving side of her brother that had seemed to vanish many years ago.

"Truly, Frederick, I think you should ask her if there is something on her heart," Sophy continued. "Anne's character is such that unloading her personal burdens onto someone else is not comfortable. A woman does like to be beguiled a bit into sharing her thoughts with the man she loves."

Frederick regarded his sister's words with genuine thanks. "You, too, are an underestimated treasure, Sophy, for telling me this. I think I may be trusted to discern my dear girl's feelings without frightening her."

Before she could speak, Anne quietly entered the room, her warm brown eyes seeking the two people whom she adored most in the world. "Good morning, Mrs...Sophy. Frederick." Calling Mrs. Croft by the familiar "Sophy" was still a novelty for her.

Frederick's dark eyes met Anne's, seeking, tenderly conveying his love to her from across the room. A becoming picture she made this morning in her dark blue merino gown with a warm shawl about her shoulders. He wanted to be totally assured that she need fear nothing ever again. That from now on he would look after her and make certain no one made her feel insignificant or unwanted as her family had for so many years.

Sophy easily recognized that warm exchange and rose from the table with her brother. "Good morning, Anne. It is a joy to see you. But I must be off to our rooms to fetch those maps for the Admiral so that they are ready on his return from the Cobb."

Walking over to join them, Anne managed to pull her gaze from Frederick's and ask softly, "Has he gone on his morning constitutional? I would to have joined him today. It is such a pleasure to hear his stories."

Eyes bright, Sophy nodded as she gave Anne's hand a squeeze. "I am certain he missed you but it is my fault. He and I are taking a little expedition to visit a girlhood friend of mine this morning. So he rose earlier than usual. We have hired a gig and hopefully, we shall not wind up in a ditch as we are wont to do!"

Sophy bid them her fondest farewell and Frederick took his beloved Anne's hand over his arm. Looking down at her from his towering height, Frederick cherished her petite, lovely figure. Her very smallness engendered such feelings of protectiveness toward her that he had to check himself from dropping a kiss on her dark head.

"Are you hungry, Anne?" he asked as she smiled up at him. "I have finished but you must be ready to break your fast."

She shook her head, her small pearl earbobs swinging prettily with the gesture. "Oh no, not at all," she assured him. "I took a bit of coffee this morning as I dressed so as to be ready if you needed me to go to the shops for you today. You know I fancy myself your private second-in-command."

A warm smile spread over his face. "You are rapidly becoming that, my dear. But I have no errands to send you through today. Should you like to take a stroll out to the Church of the Mast? It is a scenic walk and I know you enjoy taking in the sight of new places."

The look of unrepressed surprise and pleasure suffused her small, pale face like a candle newly lit. "Oh Frederick," she breathed softly, looking up at him. "Can you spare the time? You have so many things to see to and have little time before you post into the Laconia again. I would not dream of impeding you."

Looking at Anne, Frederick noticed how the autumn light falling through the window lit upon her upturned face. How utterly lovely she looked like this, as if being with him were the greatest pleasure she could ever be promised. She looked like a young child at Christmastime being promised a visit to her first pantomime. The rest of the room momentarily vanished as his hand rose to cup her cheek.

"My time is now in your possession, my dearest Anne," he told her quietly, his voice moved and sincere. "Having spent the last eight years and a half apart, do I not have more than enough hours to make up for?"

Anne, caught up in his loving gaze, could only nod and smile. They had only to gather his greatcoat and her new pelisse before heading out. As they strolled out into the inn's yard and moved toward the street, she felt the hard strength of muscled strength of Frederick's arm supporting hers. At a moment such as this, Mr. Elliot, Bath, and her family seemed very far away.

But the dangerous maelstrom was only starting to gather strength and speed...

Part IV

Mr. Elliot tossed his hat and gloves to the waiting butler, hardly glancing at the stiffly postured servant as he swept into the entry hall. The young and naive Earl of Buckley had kindly allowed him use of his Bath townhouse upon his return to the city. If not for Buckley's innocence to Mr. Elliot's somewhat tarnished reputation, he would have been forced to put up at an inn during his stay. And that would never do for the heir to Kellynch Hall!

Buckley, still in London, was to join him tomorrow. The stupid boy had just come into his inheritance and title upon his father's demise. His mother, happy to join Buckley's younger sister and growing family in Paris, had left soon after the funeral. Her husband's wasting illness had given her life little pleasure in the last two years. As a result, Buckley had no one to guide his judgments or watch his healthy purse.

What a find he had been, Mr. Elliot thought with a sly grin. He mounted the beautiful staircase to his suite of rooms. After Anne Elliot had used him ill by turning down his proposal for a war-weary sailor, he had fled to London. His debts to Col. Wallis and others had been extreme indeed. On a whim he had taken Penelope Clay with him. As companion to the one woman she could never confess it to, Mrs. Clay had silently been drawn to the dashing, young man. She had begged him to take her.

What a mistake that had been, Mr. Elliot thought as he rang for his valet. She had been like an albatross about his neck ever since. She was older than he had first thought and kept whining about how upset everyone would be with her. Buckley had given him enough money to settle the annoying woman off in the country where no one would ever hear from her again.

The secret, Mr. Elliot had found, was in Buckley's love of wine and gambling. Oddly enough, the young man (indeed only 23) seemed to only grow more reckless in his bets at the gaming tables when enjoying a fine bottle of claret. Mr. Elliot had been able to win an obscene amount of money through Buckley by simply taking what the boy did not notice. It was a scheme that continued to line his pockets nicely. The Colonel had been paid off and all of his other creditors as well.

Now he could return to Bath with his head held high and his path directed toward the Elliot family. He knew their shallow, insipid ways all to well. Once they knew he had money and plenty of it, they would be more than happy to renew their ties. It would simply take time and his charm to pave the way.

He would win Sir Walter's favor again. And he had caught news that Anne's dashing captain was going on a long voyage before he married Anne. Surely he could convince her to break her engagement. For the good of her family. To preserve Lady Russell's regard. Yes, she would fall into his lap like a ripe plum. He would make her fall in love with him.

Frederick and Anne were making leisurely progress to the Church of the Mast. Anne was indeed enjoying her walk. Having Frederick all to herself, however, was the true source of her joy.

As they mounted the hill together, the small, whitewashed church came into view. While it had certainly seen better days, it had a charming appeal that attracted Anne. A huge anchor was lying in the courtyard with a small memorial to all sailors lost at sea.

"I would come here whenever I had the chance," Frederick told her as they came near. "Of course, that was a rare thing. But I found the peace and sheer quiet of the place very relaxing."

Pausing, he halted and Anne looked up with curiosity on her now rosy features. "I must confess that I also gave into reviewing memories of you, my little one. Despite my anger and my frustration at your refusal, those memories refused to budge from my heart."

Anne thought of her own quiet moments too numerous to mention. As she had once said to Captain Harville, life as a woman left a vast amount of time on one's hands. Therefore, her own moments of reverie and disappointment had been plentiful.

The sun, pale and warmer than usual for autumn, shone over the isolated church and the few scrub trees round her. It was on a slight point against the ocean and time had done little to change the landscape. Frederick and Anne moved into the courtyard and Anne's gloved hand rose to touch the simple memorial. "This touches my heart," she murmured quietly. "I do not like to think of you being one of the men it was written for, Frederick."

He regarded her with concern. Was this her reason for worry? "Dear Anne, you knew what kind of life I lead when you first met me. And in marrying me, that will not alter. Do you fear the life of a sailor's wife? True, Napoleon may mean trouble for us. But most of his attention is on land. And this first voyage will only be three months. We shall be married when I return."

She heard the true note of earnest affection in his voice and treasured it. Dear Frederick, he knew she was troubled and was seeking to ease her worries. If only he knew the true reason!

She looked up at him bravely, the sea breeze whipping a small curl over her forehead. "Frederick, I shall always pray for your safety. That shall never change. But I know I should rather go through life as a sailor's wife, prone to thoughts of danger, than to go through life as I did before. Surely you know I would not ever regret loving you?"

His smile of relief warmed her heart. He lead her over to a stone wall beside the church and placing his hands about her waist, gently lifted her up so their eyes met. "If any man could know a woman's regard for him, it is me," he told her with a soft, gentle caress to her cheek. "Did you not turn down two marriage proposals during my absence? And how can I forget how you boldly approached me in the Assembly Rooms that evening of the concert? It was that which gave me hope that my wishes were not unfounded."

She regarded him warmly, her small feet peeking out from beneath her pelisse. "Your return gave me new strength, Frederick. In being near you again, I began to see I did not have to remain a hostage...to my family and Lady Russell's wishes. True, the years had changed me. But I owe much of my courage to you."

Her thoughts lingered on her family. They did not love her. They never had. To them, she was a nuisance. An encumbrance. Elizabeth found her to be the source of Mr. Elliot's loss of affection for her. Her father barely noted her. And Mary only wanted her about to look after her children and to coddle her views that she was greatly ill.

Now that Mr. Elliot was returning, would they accept him in again? Would they fall prey to his lies? Would he cause trouble for her and Frederick?

Frederick saw the shadow falling in his beloved's eyes. His warm fingers found their way beneath her chin and lifted her head to meet his penetrating gaze.

"Anne, my love, something is troubling you. I know you are trying to placate me and act as if nothing alarms you. But if we are not to share everything, our future is already in jeopardy. Think of what silence did to us in the past, how it nearly destroyed our love. A love that had to remain silent for nearly nine years," he spoke with quiet conviction.

His arms came round her waist, drawing her into his arms. She lay her head on his shoulder and sighed audibly. Frederick could now easily see how burdened she was and he rested his chin on top of her dark head.

"Tell me all now, my darling. And then we shall face it together."

Part V

The only sound in the finely appointed drawing room was the echo of the ornate, gilded clock that sat atop the mantle. Sir Walter's house in Laura Place had been the setting for a number of astonishing moments in the last months. But surely few could compete with the scene unfolding just now.

Elizabeth sat with her characteristic straightness, her chin aloft and unwavering. Her father sat nearby, listening intently to the young man who was to someday inherit all his earthly goods.

Walter William Elliot stood on the finely woven Axminster carpet, having just neatly explained how it came about that he had left Bath a month before with only debt notices in his pockets as well as Penelope Clay in a hackney coach.

Striking just the right balance of humble sincerity and calm unemotional gentlemanlike poise, Mr. Elliot had come to call on the relations he had once scorned on paper and in private. He had brushed aside the shocking details, replacing them with truly artistic flourishes that only a man accustomed to neatly covering his tracks could do.

"So you say that your investments have come in, young man?" Sir Walter remarked with interest. "Quite a boon for you, I am certain. All we heard for days from Col. Wallis was the shocking amount owed to him and others."

Mr. Elliot met the charge with calm equanimity. "Quite so, Sir Walter. I had miscalculated my financial situation and my very own man had dipped into my funds. Scoundrel that he was. I truly had no idea how dire the situation had become. I was greatly shamed by my ignorance. That is one of the reasons I fled Bath so quickly. But all have been paid, I promise."

"And Mrs. Clay?" Elizabeth sharply enquired, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You tell us that she begged you to take her with you. What has become of her? I know her father, Mr. Shepherd, has heard not a word from her."

Mr. Elliot had the grace to look rather abashed and stammered slightly. "She, she swore that if I were to take her to London, she would not trouble me any further. She wanted to remove herself from your family and her own family. I had no choice but to allow her to come. It was only upon our arrival in London that she...announced that she had fallen in love with me."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she gave a small, choked cry. "Penelope? In love with you?"

Sir Walter also coughed uncomfortably, his own surprise intense. "Where is she now, Mr. Elliot?"

Mr. Elliot smoothly remarked, "When she realized that I did not love her, that I had no intention of becoming associated with her in any fashion, she disappeared. I have not seen her since. I believe her to have vanished into the country so as to live quietly."

Both Sir Walter and Elizabeth digested this item with slow, deliberate silence. So this was how their kindness to a nameless widow of no rank or importance was to be repaid. Twas she who was the villain, not Mr. Elliot.

As if resolving something vital to himself, Sir Walter cleared his throat and stood. "Well, young man, I cannot lie to you and say I am pleased at the turn of events that took place. To have the Elliot name bandied about so freely by the gossips. But I can see now that there were unavoidable circumstances involved. We shall mend our fences, as they say, and resume our acquaintance."

Mr. Elliot nearly shouted with glee but only smiled and shook Sir Walter's extended hand. "Very good, sir. My fervent wish is to reattach myself to your kind, generous family circle. Thank you for listening to my explanations."

"Posh, tis all settled," Sir Walter replied, a gruff smile coming through. "Elizabeth, ring for some tea. Our guest needs some refreshment. I know I should like some."

As Elizabeth did so, Mr. Elliot regarded his relation intently. "Is dear Anne still in Bath, sir? Is she preparing for her wedding?"

Looking somewhat confused, Sir Walter murmured, "Anne...Anne...oh, yes, Anne! Had forgotten her quite. No, she is down at Lyme visiting Captain Harville and her future family. But her last letter to us promised a visit in the next few days. To buy wedding things, I believe. These trivial matters are quite beyond me."

"Is Captain Wentworth to accompany her?" Mr. Elliot asked with so little interest in his voice that Sir Walter wondered why he asked at all. Anne meant so little to him that he disliked wasting time on the matter.

"I believe he is preparing to embark on a voyage," Elizabeth answered for her father, resuming her seat on the elegant settee. "When he returns, they shall marry. It is a sad match indeed. To marry a sailor. But as Papa says, he does have a fine sounding name. That is to be deemed an advantage. And he is tall."

At the same time, Anne was confronting her feelings about her family in the presence of the one man who she fervently wished might never have to see them again.

"It is so very minor," she murmured, her cheek against his shoulder. "It is innately silly of me to have let it trouble me as much as it has. But...Mrs. Smith has written to me. She says that Mr. Elliot has returned to Bath in view of renewing his tie to my family."

Frederick was stunned into silence by her barely audible words. Mr. Elliot! The one man who had nearly been the cause of his reunion with Anne to fail. He well remembered his jealousy of the smooth, polished gentleman who everyone believed would marry Anne.

A vision from that dreadful concert arose before him. Anne, looking utterly lovely and adorable in a gown of blue silk and lace, sitting beside Mr. Elliot while he stood, helpless. How the man had blatantly flattered her, how he had the family's unspoken blessing. It had made the blood rush to his temples then as it did now.

"Frederick? Is...is something wrong?"

Anne's gentle, worried voice broke the cloud around him and Frederick looked down into her eyes. How true he had been when he had thought how little altered she was by those nearly eight years. Still fresh, still lovely, and now with a fervent concern resting in the eyes he loved so well.

"No, my dear," he gently replied, arms still about her. "I simply was surprised that such a vile, cunning man would dare show his face in polite society again. I can see why such news disturbed you. That is all."

She drew a breath of relief and Frederick watched her closely. Dear God, he had come too close to losing her before to this man. To see her slip into his grasp again would be his destruction. No, he would not allow that to happen.

Anne slipped from his arms then and levered herself off the wall. He watched as she moved slightly away, her dark eyes searching the ocean vista before them. "You shall be posting into the Laconia next week, dear Frederick. And I shall return to Bath...to prepare for our wedding. I shall...miss you desperately."

Her voice broke and with it, Frederick's nearly did as well. Watching her standing alone like that, her small figure silhouetted against the sea, words escaped him momentarily. And suddenly he realized how difficult this was for her.

He, who had grown up among a loving family, with siblings he loved and felt a true affection for, had never known quiet, silent rejection as Anne had. He had never known the agony of sitting among blood relations who wished him elsewhere.

And now she was to return to this set of people to prepare for her wedding. Not to mention Lady Russell, who barely accepted the match. To be made to feel low and meaningless. He had not realized this when he and Anne had talked of the future. His own thoughts had been with his voyage and the preparations to be made. In his haste, he had assumed a few months with her family would not be so horrible.

"Oh dear Lord," he thought to himself. "How can I have been so utterly foolish?"

She had not murmured a word in protest. She had merely nodded at his suggestion that she go. She had not wanted to cause him a moment's distress. It was always her way, he realized, to give way to everything for his comfort.

"Anne," he breathed raggedly.

She turned slowly, and he could see the unshed tears gleaming in her great, dark eyes. Something gave way inside of him and he pulled her up into his arms desperately.

His mouth came down on her with a healing, passionate strength they had rarely shared before. She was such a soft, adorable armful, so responsive to his kiss, to his every emotion. She murmured a soft cry as his lips plundered her pliant mouth, lingering, soothing, pledging his love to her. All he could think of was how he could never live without this woman again.

When he drew back, neither of them could breathe with any steadiness. A single, calloused finger rose to trace the trail a single tear had made on her cheek. It pained him to the core to see her unhappy.

"You shall not go alone and friendless to Bath, my little one," he promised huskily. "Forgive me for being such a thoughtless brute, concerned only for his own comfort. I shall accompany you and Sophy will want to come as well."

"That is impossible, Frederick," she told him with surprising ferocity. "You are obliged to leave in seven day's time. I cannot disrupt your plans like this."

The finger covered her lips, silencing her promptly. "As the man who loves you and will be legally bound to ensure your happiness, I will listen to no arguments, Anne. All is well here. We shall post off to Bath tomorrow and Sophy will follow. Upon my departure, you can later return here to Lyme and stay with the Harvilles. I know they will be delighted to have you here."

The sea was crashing below them but the only sound Anne could hear was the beating of her heart and the deep, gentle tones of her captain's voice. "I did not want to cause any problems," she admitted softly. "I do not like Bath, knowing that my mother died there. And that my family was so brutally unkind to you. That is one reason I do not like the idea of you returning with me. Much as I am overjoyed that you are."

She paused and he drew her closer to him, to reassure her and let her know she could speak freely. "I feel horrid about that, Frederick. That my own family should be so shallow, so heartless. They care only for rank and money and the opinion of people I care little about. You are my family now, Frederick. You...and Sophy and the Admiral. That is why it is so difficult...to know we shall be separated for so long."

Taking her hands in his, he squeezed them tight. "I shall be there to support you when you return, darling. Your time with them will be minimal. Sophy will help you prepare your wedding clothes and in no time at all, you will be back here. Among people who love you almost as much as I do. Where I first began to realize what a fool I had been to angrily rush away from you nine years ago," he murmured, a light in his dark eyes.

He would have kissed her again but she smiled with a knowing glint in her eyes. "You have business with Captain Harville at noon, I know," she reminded him. "And I will not delay you any longer. I shall have to grow accustomed to being without you and I must start now."

"The time will fly by," he promised as they moved away from the church and back toward the path. "Tis' only three months. And then we shall be married and I shall have my Anne safe in hand."

As they headed back to town, Anne felt relieved that Frederick had promised to return to Bath with her. To face her family again would be so much easier with Frederick there. But when he left, she would have to deal with their spite and coldness. How she wished they could be married quickly and quietly before he left. And Mr. Elliot. Would he dare try to impose himself on her again? Surely he was not fool enough to do so in sight of what she knew of him now?

Little did she know how accurate her fears were.

Part VI

In Bath, those who had not chosen to decamp to London for the Season were enjoying a pleasant evening in the Assembly Rooms. While the style of London was calling some of England's finest baronets to its best balls and routes, Bath still held sway with some of the more rural peers. Its understated elegance, proximity to pleasant walks, and the restorative waters still recommended itself to many visitors.

Elizabeth Elliot tapped her fan impatiently against her knee. Mr. Elliot, now somewhat back in Bath society's graces due to her family's acceptance of his story, was enjoying a renewed popularity. Even Col. Wallis had sent a benign smile his way at Lady Armistead's card party the night before. Now she watched as he danced with that simpering Henrietta Waddington-Pratt. It was hardly to be borne.

Indeed, he still looked exactly as he had before. Dressed in a quiet yet elegant fashion, his shirtpoints only a trifle high to her taste. His coat was not by Weston but pretty well close enough.

She had yet to dance with her cousin but she had deigned to do so with two other gentlemen. Sir Randall Beddingfield had been kind enough but he had so little fashion sense. Always wearing black like a parson. And Mr. Tolitson could only talk about the scenic beauty of his home in Northumberland. She shivered at the thought. Northumberland! It might just as well be upper Mongolia, with its wild fells and cold blasts.

At last she saw Mr. Elliot coming her way. He bowed politely before her and she rose regally out of her chair. She hoped that the others were watching. "Come dance with me, cousin. We have yet to talk of so many things," he invited kindly.

She acquiesced and they joined the others in a waltz. Being in her late 20s, Elizabeth no longer needed permission to take part in a dance that had once scandalized the Town. Mr. Elliot was an excellent dancer and she knew she would look well partnered with him.

"You look lovely as always, Miss Elizabeth," he commented quietly, his green eyes enigmatic. "I never have reason to be ashamed of my relations as others are. You are the epitome of fashion and good sense."

Elizabeth's expression barely changed but inside she felt herself nearly stumble. He must admire her greatly, she thought. He must realize what a fool he had been to even think of looking at that drab Anne.

"Thank you, Mr. Elliot," she returned with a hint of warmth in her usually arctic voice. "You are to be complimented as well. But then shall we say it is the Elliot way to be at one's best at every occasion."

Mr. Elliot smiled benignly. Inwardly, he wondered how he could manage the rest of the evening with her. He wanted information on Anne, not this tired talk of the Elliot virtues.

"Tell me, is Anne returning shortly?" he asked diffidently. "I wonder that she could take a page from your book on knowing what is correct and fashionable. You might aid her for I think she is in need of guidance."

From the almost delighted look on Elizabeth's face, Mr. Elliot knew he had chosen the proper approach. Slightly degrade the sister he knew she disliked and appeal to her abilities. That would unlock her reticence.

"Mr. Elliot, you overesteem my skill!" she exclaimed with a slight laugh. "I do hope to help my sister in choosing her wedding clothes. And perhaps even the event itself. At least in the planning. I believe them to married from Kellynch. It still amazes me quite. Captain Wentworth is a good enough sort of man. He is quite rich from his journeys. But men of the Navy can be coarse. It is sure to be an influence on Anne."

He spun her about the polished floor skillfully, intent on her words. "When shall she be in town? I should like to at least pay my respects to her."

"She is due to arrive in two day's time according to Lady Russell," Elizabeth replied. "Her dear captain shall be decamping for the high seas again. I daresay Anne will be lonely. But I am certain the Crofts will keep her amused."

"The Crofts have good sense," Mr. Elliot allowed. "But you must admit our Anne is in sad want of good society. The Musgroves, nice as they are, are rural people. How your sister Mary bears it is beyond me. But Anne must not be lost to that. It is all too sad that it is settled."

Elizabeth looked at him sharply as the music began to fade. "Are you saying you are against Anne's marriage, Mr. Elliot? Whom would you have her to marry?"

As he escorted her to her seat, Mr. Elliot realized with dismay his oversight. "Not at all, Miss Elizabeth. I merely felt that I might caution Anne on her choice, of what she may not realize she is doing. You and I both know the meaning of rank and connection. It would not do for her to cause our family trouble."

Elizabeth looked bored and told him huffily, "Anne is a nobody, Mr. Elliot. Surely you know that by now. No one will care if she marries her captain. She will fade into obscurity as sister Mary did. It is up to you and I to make the proper connections into polite Society. Surely you would agree, Mr. Elliot?"

Mr. Elliot gave a slight nod and offered to obtain some punch for her. As he walked through the buzzing crowd, he wiped his brow with relief. His dance with her was over. But he must consider his next step. For in two days he would be face to face with Anne. The woman he was determined to have.

Meanwhile, Anne was enjoying a final evening with the Harvilles. Her valise was packed, her plans made. She, Frederick, and Sophy were departing for Bath in the morning. Sophy had been more than happy to be asked to come now that she and Anne were so close. But how Anne would miss Lyme!

Mrs. Harville chuckled as she recounted her memories of Louisa Musgrove and James Benwick. "Those two were a quiz indeed," she commented. "I remember him reading to her something of Byron and she quite obviously did not understand it. How brave she was to at least attempt it. And how he took readily to the role of being her tutor."

Captain Harville drew on his pipe contentedly. "Aye, he did indeed. I should have enjoyed having him as a brother. We were lucky to have him as long as we did. Poor Phoebe. But as sure as the tide will sweep in, events change us all. Do they not, Admiral?"

The Admiral, also enjoying a smoke, nodded. "Yes, yes, Captain Harville. Right as always. I shall be heading for London tomorrow for these sea fencible talks they are having. Hopefully, it will come to naught. Bonaparte should know better than to try again."

His wife, holding one of the Harville children in her arms, chided him gently. "Charles, you and I both know that the man has no sense at all. Why should this time be any different? If he can get off Elba, he can head for England."

Sitting beside Frederick, Anne thought of her first days at Lyme with a mixture of joy and sadness. Poor Louisa had been the cause of her unhappiness, totally unaware of it. Anne had thought Frederick to be in love with her at the time. When she had watched him take Louisa up into his arms and carry her to the Harville home, it had settled everything in her mind. He was in love with Louisa Musgrove and she must put all memories of him aside.

She felt strong, warm fingers covering hers and she looked up, startled. A pair of intensely dark eyes were seeking hers. In the flicker of firelight, they looked even darker than usual. "I can read your thoughts, you know," he murmured so the others could not hear. "You are thinking of Louisa. You cannot fool me. Confess it, Anne."

She flushed a little and looked down as his hand captured hers, fingers closing round her small, white ones. "I told you I was no card player," she softly replied. "You are right. I was thinking of Louisa. And how you seemed to care for her."

"I might lay the blame for that at your door," he told her quietly, a twinkle in his eye. "But I will not. Louisa is a lovely girl, sweet enough. But even as I pursued her it was with half a heart. As I spent more time in your company, I knew you were the only woman for me. Louisa could not come close."

A glow started in Anne's heart and she felt her shoulders enveloped by a strong, muscled arm. "Lean against me now, Anne, and let us enjoy these few moments together," he told her tenderly. "Here as we are now among our friends and family. This is what true happiness is."

Her cheek against his shoulder, Anne did as he asked and snuggled against her captain as they shared the small sofa. Frederick was right. She must forget the past and the darkness it held for her. Here, in the Harville home, as the Admiral regaled them with yet another story, she was safe. And loved.

But in Bath, very real troubles awaited her.

Part VII

Captain Frederick Wentworth assisted his fiancee into the hackney coach with a proprietary air. She accepted his help with a weary half-smile and he soon followed her inside. It brought to mind another time he had helped her into a vehicle, only it had carried his sister and brother-in-law.

The trip from Lyme to Bath that morning had been a pleasant one. Anne had always enjoyed traveling and the points of interest along the way had not failed to draw her attention. And with Frederick and Sophy to discuss them with her, the journey had been moderately enjoyable. Yet at every moment she had to mentally push aside her fear of what she felt loomed ahead in Bath.

They had settled at the White Hart, a comfortable, well-appointed inn that Frederick liked. Sophy had stayed behind to prepare their rooms so as to be as comfortable as possible. Tomorrow they would settle into the small house that the Admiral's friend Mr. Boothe owned in Minden Lane. It was quiet, out of the usual rush of traffic and precisely what Anne desired.

Anne glanced up at her soon-to-be husband and felt a rush of pride. Who could look at Frederick and not see the handsome, intelligent, sensible man that he was? In his naval uniform, he carried an air of authority and respect about him. Surely her family must see he was as fine if not better than most of the people of their acquaintance?

"What have I done to deserve such rapt attention?" he asked with an amused smile. It broke the solemness of the moment and she drew breath. "Have I bumped my tricorn out of order again? You are to be my wardrobe mistress, dear Anne. You must have me in fitting shape to appear at Laura Place."

Anne lifted her chin almost defiantly. "I dare them to find a single fault in you. None can I see today. You do me proud, Captain."

Chuckling, Frederick winked at her. With her dark eyes gleaming fine in the afternoon light and her air of confidence, Anne was even more appealing than usual. She was primed to face her family in fine mettle and had no intention of sinking into a faded violet.

"I am sore afraid of such a resounding report of my virtues, Miss Elliot," he remarked as the coachman set the horses going. "Perhaps I will disgrace myself, say something highly despicable to your father and cause him to denounce me again? Such as telling him that he is forever blind to your serene beauty and character?"

The levity in his voice buoyed Anne's heart as they rumbled through the streets. "Well, I cannot say what such a remark might meet with. When you arrived at the party and announced our engagement with such strength and spirit, he was rendered quite speechless. I can see him now..muttering my name in disbelief. So you see, a few words and he will be in your hands."

Frederick watched her carefully, glad the tension had seemed to fade from her a bit. Whether or not she spoke it, he knew she was dreading this moment. How he wished he might stay for longer. That they could be married this very day.

As they neared Laura Place, Frederick took his beloved Anne's hand and cupped her cheek with the other. How glowing and pretty she looked! "Anne, my little one, we are almost arrived. I want you to hold onto me when you feel weak. I shall be right beside you, loving you and watching over you. Nothing can separate us now."

Despite the fact the coach was drawing up to the front door, Frederick dropped two swift kisses on her eyes and then kissed her soundly, deeply on her upturned lips. Warm and flushed, she drew back and murmured, "That is courage enough for any battle I may yet face, Captain."

The coach door opened and Frederick stepped down, helping Anne to do the same. They were escorted into the house and Anne could see her sister coming down the stairs to greet them.

Tall, thin, and regal as always, Elizabeth seemed to float over the polished floor to meet them. "Anne, how good of you to come. Father is awaiting us in the Drawing Room. Captain Wentworth, we were not expecting you."

Frederick merely bowed to her and said, "Pardon the intrusion, Miss Elliot, but I wanted to escort Anne and my sister, Mrs. Croft, to Bath. I will only be staying a few days before I depart again for Lyme."

Elizabeth gave a brief nod and replied. "Yes, I expect you are eager to return to ...the sea. Shall we go in now?"

They followed her up the stairs, Anne's eyes fixed on Elizabeth's straight back. Why did the sight of it make her wish to run and hide? She felt Frederick slip his gloved hand into hers and she turned to send him a grateful smile. Somehow he seemed to know when she needed his reassurance most.

Entering the drawing room, Sir Walter rose and smiled. "Anne, Anne, back with us again. I do hope your visit to Lyme was good. Always works wonders on your complexion. And Captain Wentworth! I had no idea you were to join us."

Elizabeth told him smoothly, "He escorted dear Anne and Mrs. Croft to Bath, Papa. He is soon to set sail."

Captain Wentworth bowed to Sir Walter and acknowledged his future father-in-law. "I hope I do not intrude, Sir Walter. But I wanted to be certain of Anne's safe travel here before I leave."

Waving his hand as if to brush the idea aside, Sir Walter resumed his seat on the settee and said airily, "Oh that! Well, Anne is a good enough traveler I daresey. Could have done just fine alone. But nonetheless, we are glad to have you among us."

Elizabeth sat beside her father while Anne and Frederick chose to sit together on the nearby sofa. His nearness gave her courage and she needed it. "Papa, I am glad to see you again. I trust you are in health?"

He nodded, smiling briefly. "Tolerable, I suppose, with winter drawing upon us. But there are amusements enough to keep us occupied, as Elizabeth can tell you."

Smiling archly, Elizabeth told them, "We are invited to Lord Garson's musicale tonight, Anne. Lady Russell, Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret are to join us. How splendid it will be! I am certain you would be welcome to join us."

Anne glanced at Frederick and they shared a secret smile. Neither of them had any desire to attend such a gathering among people they cared so little about. To stay with Sophy in front of a warm fire sounded infinitely more pleasing. Anne already felt as if she had used up nearly all her strength.

"Oh Anne, you have not heart the latest news," Sir Walter said, polishing his quizzing glass. "Mr. Elliot has returned to Bath and is quite back in our good graces. Seems his leaving us was all a grave misunderstanding."

Anne turned slightly pale but faced this news with more courage than Frederick thought she possessed. "Truly, Papa? I thought him to have fled the town with Mrs. Clay in tow and debts mounting."

She saw her sister's face grow drawn and her eyes narrow. That subject was a sore one for her sister, who had considered Mrs. Clay a better companion than she. "He has explained all that. Penelope was a fool and begged him to take her with him. How could he refuse her? She has gone off to who knows where. And his debts are all paid, I tell you, all paid. He is back among us here in Bath, and I hope you will not be unkind to him."

Drawing in her breath in surprise, Anne was silent. She had never seen her sister so violently involved in her speaking. Mr. Elliot's return had highly influenced her, it appeared. Was she still hoping for a match with him, Anne wondered. How horrible! If only she knew how he had used Mrs. Smith's husband ill. How he had used the family ill. Would they be blind forever to his faults?

Finally, she spoke with grave sincerity. "I have no intention of spending a great deal of time in Mr. Elliot's presence. That is all I have to say on my behalf. You may do as you please."

Frederick nearly applauded. He felt his love for her rising in his heart and wished he might tell her so. How far she had come in so short a time.

Sir Walter eyed his daughter with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. "Anne? You will not accept him as your cousin? Surely this is absurd! And this way of talking is quite novel for you. What on earth has shaken you so?"

Anne gave him a fluttering smile as she stood and walked over to where he sat. "Papa, I do not mean to give you pain. I simply cannot abide by Mr. Elliot...knowing what I do of him. That must not hinder our relationship. I shall simply make certain I only call when he is not present."

"But Elizabeth surely will help you with your wedding preparations," Sir Walter sputtered, looking somewhat inconvenienced. "How can I allow it? You must accept Mr. Elliot, Anne. That is all there is to it. Wouldn't look right."

For a moment, Anne was silent. She weighed her words carefully and then spoke. He was her father. She did not want to quarrel with him. But at the same time, she must speak her mind.

"Papa, I shall not repeat my words. I meant what I said. If you cannot accept my decision, then I shall not return here. I simply cannot do what you ask."

Sir Walter regarded his daughter carefully. This was not the Anne he remembered. This Anne had spirit, had a defiant set to her words and a spunk he had not thought possible. She almost looked like her mother standing there. Good Heavens! He had nearly forgotten.

Anne felt Frederick behind her, his tall form like a foundation to her. "I stand beside Anne in this decision, sir. Neither of us shall intrude upon you again if this is not to your satisfaction, much as Anne would dislike having to break with you."

Sir Walter, seeing the strong bulk of the Captain behind his daughter, thought better of it. The man certainly had an air about him. That was not to be denied. What did it matter really? Anne would be gone in a few weeks. Not that he cared.

He finally replied, "Indeed, Captain Wentworth. If that is what you wish, then I shall not quibble. While I find it passing strange that she takes her cousin into such dislike, it is her choice to make. I only ask that should you come in contact with him, Anne, that you at least be civil."

Stunned, Elizabeth retorted, "How can you say that, Papa? Mr. Elliot is our cousin! To have Anne speak of him like this! It is an insult to us and to him!"

Before anyone could speak, the footmen threw back the doors. "Mr. William Elliot, sir," one announced.

Anne drew in her breath in shock. The very person they had been discussing was now standing in the doorway. She had not been prepared for this. In her surprise, she did not even hear Frederick's voice low in her ear, "Hold fast, darling. You're doing splendidly."

Mr. Elliot stepped into the room, his green eyes taking in the scene rapidly. "Cousin Anne and Captain Wentworth. How wonderful to see friends in Bath again! Come, cousin, let us shake hands and renew our acquaintance."

Anne did not move. Instead, she gathered her courage and faced him with a look of cool grace and resolve. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Elliot. But that I cannot do."

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