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Chapter 33

Posted on Thursday, 21 March 2002

Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.
~Horace Mann~

He was not used to this.

After the best sleep of his life, Frederick woke on Christmas morning at a time which, for him, was unusually late. In his profession, it was imperative that he always appear in top form, which meant working out all tension, frustration, or exhaustion before appearing in public. In the mornings, he usually had plenty to work through on his runs. Not this morning. Not Today.

Still, he felt more like running than he ever had before. That was, until he glanced outside. Snow had drifted so high on the wide stone sills that it rose almost to the middle of each window. Heavily gusting winds rattled the windowpanes and whistled down the chimney. The driveway was indistinguishable from the vast expanse of snowdrift that the countryside had become. Where did all of this come from? It was never this bad in London.

He stood at the window, gazing into the storm for quite some time before finally conceding that the snow was much too deep for a run. He could trudge through the drifts, but he knew where his feet would take him, and it was much too early for a visit to Kellynch Lodge.

It was a perfect morning for a lie-in. If only...

He glanced longingly at the undisturbed pillow next to his. How he would have loved to crawl back beneath the down comforter and wrap his arms around another warm body, to drift in and out of sleep, lulled by her steady breathing. A cold, empty bed, on the other hand, was not at all tempting.

Frederick turned his back on the four-poster and stalked into the bathroom. While he waited for hot water to rise through the old pipes, he splashed his face in the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He was getting old, he thought. He could not remember having quite so many stress lines on his forehead. At least his hair was as thick as ever, without a hint of gray. His father had begun turning gray at twenty-five. Frederick thanked his mother's genes that, at thirty-two, he was still as dark as he had been at twelve.

The shower began to steam. Frederick dropped his pajama pants on the toilet seat and adjusted the temperature before climbing in.

Even after a long shower and a careful shave, it was still not a decent hour to go visiting. Frederick slipped into an old pair of blue jeans and a soft sweater that matched his eyes before heading downstairs, barefoot, with his computer to pass the time.

Enough light was coming in through the windows now that he was able to find his way to the kitchen without having to search out any of the Hall's cleverly hidden light switches. While he waited for the tea water to boil, Frederick paced back and forth in front of the wide French doors that led onto the kitchen's patio.

Anne. Just the thought of her made his pulse quicken. Most would have considered her plain in comparison with many of the women he had dated. However, most of those women had lacked substance, which had quickly caused him to lose interest. Anne had substance, and enough of it to take his breath away, enough to make her the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was clever, intelligent, kind, gentle, poised, and-Frederick smiled to himself-at long last, independent. She was Anne.

The pot whistled, interrupting Frederick's reverie. He poured the water into a small porcelain teapot and added it to his breakfast tray, then slung the computer bag over his shoulder and headed towards the breakfast room. When he reached the door, he checked himself suddenly, made an about-face, and headed in the opposite direction.

As he entered the solarium, the sky was just beginning to turn the color of a ripe peach, filtering through the diminishing snow to tint the tiled floor.

Stopping by what he now considered to be their bench, Frederick closed his eyes for a moment and could almost feel Anne in his arms. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he cleared his mind. He was finally able to allow himself the luxury of dreaming about her, but it was all too frustrating when he was wide awake, and she was not nearby. He was almost as lonely now that he had Anne and was parted from her, as he had been during the eight years he thought he would never see her again.

Frederick set the tray on a table, and went in search of an outlet and a telephone jack. Once his computer was connected and had booted up, he leaned back against the wall and opened his Email program, hoping that it would divert him from his ceaseless daydreams about Anne.

To: Frwent@Annapurna.com
From: Gefaye@Annapurna.com
Subject: (none)
Frederick,
The funeral is at 3pm, on Thursday.
I have been speaking with the Board of Directors, and they believe that, because you and Michael have been working the closest with Thomas over the past few years, you would be the best people to fill in the blanks while we try to sort this out. Of course, it means that you may be stuck in London for quite some time. I haven't heard whether either of you has new projects coming up. If you do, there may be some conflicts, but perhaps the tag-team approach will help us to make sure that all bases are covered.
I am told that Michael is spending the holidays in the same area as you. Perhaps you will have time to run this by him. Let me know.
G. Faye

Frederick snorted as he closed the message. Of course it was the Board, and not Faye, himself, who had made the suggestion. Still, he was overjoyed at the prospect. More time in London meant more time with Anne. If things went well, and he secured his position, perhaps he would never have to leave her again. He now knew where his interests lay, and they were not in front of the camera, but behind it. All he had needed was an entrée into the world of directing. Twelfth Night had been the first test of his abilities. This next step with Annapurna was more than he could have hoped for; if only it had happened under better circumstances. He would have loved to consult with Hassan, his mentor, when directing his first film.

But first, there was the funeral. And for that, he had to leave tomorrow. Perhaps the weather would delay his departure, he thought wistfully. To miss a funeral because of a snowstorm was one thing, to leave Anne behind was quite another.

The rest of the household was still sleeping when Anne came downstairs. The housekeeper had just arrived, and was peeling apples to make cinnamon-apple scones. She offered to make eggs, but Anne declined and declared that she would wait until everyone else was ready to eat.

Retiring to her room, Anne donned a pair of wool socks and a thick sweater. She found an old pair of her boots in the back porch. After lacing them up over her jeans, Anne put on a wool hat and gloves. She laughed as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, glad that it was early, and a holiday, so that not many people would be out on the roads.

The powdery snow came almost to Anne's knees as she trudged the length of the Lodge's drive. The air was sharp, and caught in her nose and lungs. She considered turning around, but the lure of Kellynch Hall was irresistible. Even the thought that he was probably not awake yet was unable to stop her from continuing in that direction.

Walking was easier once Anne turned onto the recently ploughed main road. However, the wind was slightly more vicious. She pulled her scarf closer as the wind ripped through the trees, sending a flurry of snow across the road.

After a while, a dark figure appeared down the road. As she drew nearer, Anne thought she recognized the long, confident stride of the other solitary walker. Once she was certain, only the treacherous ice kept her from breaking into a run, although hear heart was already flying in his direction. The ice did not stop him, however, and before Anne knew it, she was caught up in his arms.

'What are you doing out in the cold?' Frederick murmured against her cheek, wrapping his arms tightly around her as if trying to keep her warm.

'I couldn't wait until noon.' She replied shakily, pressing her cheek against the soft wool of his coat.

His eyes darkened as he moved Anne's scarf off of her face and lowered his head. 'Me neither.'

As the kiss deepened, Anne slid her hands up to the back of Frederick's head, knocking his hat to the ground.

'Sorry...' She whispered.

'No problem.' Frederick replied huskily against her mouth, as he neatly tossed Anne's hat next to his and buried his hands in her hair.

'Scarf's useless without a hat.' Anne reached up to unwind a long, striped woolen muffler from around Frederick's neck. She kissed the soft skin below his ear as she reached around him to toss the scarf into the snow bank.

'I've missed this,' he laughed softly.

'What, exactly?'

'This...' He kissed her. 'And this...' He hefted her into his arms.

'Me too.' Anne sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

'Do you want to know what else I've missed?' He asked playfully, bouncing her in his arms.

Before she could respond, Anne found herself flung seat-first into the nearest snow bank. She stared up at Frederick, mouth agape, as he stood laughing over her.

'What was that for?'

Immediately contrite, Frederick bent to offer a hand to her. 'I'm sorry...I just...'

Theirs had been a playful courtship. He wondered if during the intervening years, Anne had moved beyond such behavior. He seriously hoped not.

Frederick frowned apologetically as Anne grabbed his hands. In the blink of an eye, he was face-first in the snow. Sputtering, he sat up and wiped the snow from his face. Anne was laughing as she held his scarf out to him.

'Got you.'

'So you did.' He chuckled, scrubbing his face with the scarf.

Frederick glanced over at Anne as he wrapped the scarf around his neck, and his breath caught in his throat. She was still laughing, and her eyes were shining. Her skin was flushed, bright and clear, and her dark hair was carelessly tangled. She had never looked so lovely. Oh, Anne... As he reached for her, he suddenly felt something cold slide down his back. Capturing Anne's wrists, Frederick rolled her onto her back and rose to his knees to shake the snow out of his coat and sweater.

Anne sighed as Frederick brushed the snow from his dark hair. It struck her speechless to think that Frederick, so gorgeous, kind, intelligent, and charming, wanted to be with her. Reaching out, she wrapped the ends of his red scarf around her hands and pulled him towards her. Frederick leaned his elbows on either side of her shoulders and captured Anne's face in his hands.

'No more tricks, all right?' He asked tenderly, grinning.

Anne shook her head and found that it was impossible to look away from his eyes. She thought wildly that he must be reading her mind, because he was smiling so widely. She felt that she should say something, but it came out as a jumble, and she could not finish.

Frederick chuckled and brushed his thumb across her lips. 'Has your mouth frozen?'

I'm going to mess this up. Anne thought. I will never get this right. I did it once, I will do it agai--

Frederick's mouth closed over hers, and Anne forgot her insecurity, forgot that she was freezing, and that they were lying in the snow on the edge of a road in the middle of the morning on Christmas Day. All that existed in the world was the two of them.

Scratch that. All that existed was him...and his incredible mouth.

As the kiss ended, he drew back with a stunned expression on his face. In a daze, he glanced around and emitted a comment so ridiculously irrelevant that it broke the fog that had clouded Anne's mind.

'My God, we're in a snow bank.'

Anne laughed, but at the same time, she was scared to death. This was it. She would never love another. This time, she was playing for keeps. Frederick suddenly looked scared, too. Trembling, they stared at each other until a faint crunching noise at the end of the road disturbed their thoughts.

A car slowly drew closer, stopping once it reached them. A man on the passenger's side rolled down his window.

'Everything okay?'

'Fine, thanks.' Frederick said, rolling over and sitting up. 'She ... ah ... tripped, but she seems to be all right. Are you okay?' He asked shakily, turning to Anne.

'Fine.' Anne blushed, sitting up. Her mouth was cold and wet. She brushed her sleeve across her face and tried to get to her feet. Her knees gave out, and she fell back into the snow.

'She's fine. We're both fine.' Frederick said redundantly. 'Thank you for stopping.'

'You're welcome! Merry Christmas!'

After the car had passed them by, Frederick carefully helped Anne to her feet.

'I'm so embarrassed.' She whispered, straightening her jacket.

'I'm not.' Frederick's smile reappeared as he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. 'Just freezing.'

He brushed snow off of Anne's coat, then busied himself with making sure that her hat, scarf, and collar were covering the most vulnerable parts of her face. Kissing her eyelids, He captured her gloved hand.

'Now, where to?' He asked seriously. 'The Hall or the Lodge?'

'We have a big breakfast planned for 9:30.' Anne replied, glancing at their entwined fingers. 'Will you come?'

Frederick gave her a reassuring smile. 'I would love to.'

They discarded their wet outerwear in the front hall of the Lodge, then headed up to Anne's bedroom. Frederick sprawled on the bed while Anne went into the bathroom to shower and change. He had almost fallen asleep when someone knocked sharply on the door.

'We are all heading down to eat, Anne.' Elizabeth Elliot called, opening the door.

'Hello, Elizabeth.' Frederick drawled, propping himself up on his elbows.

Except for an elegantly lifted eyebrow, Elizabeth hid her surprise well. 'Please tell Anne that breakfast is ready.' She glanced quickly towards the closed bathroom door, then backed out of the room and firmly shut the door.

'Elizabeth was here. Apparently, it is time for breakfast.' Frederick chuckled as Anne came out of the bathroom.

Anne gaped at him, looking so deliciously comfortable on her bed. 'Wh...what did she say?'

'Not much. Come here.' Frederick replied softly, pulling Anne into his arms.

'I'm not used to this.' She murmured against Frederick's chest as he idly trailed his fingers through her damp hair. 'I don't think I ever will be.'

Frederick began to stroke her back. 'I hope you won't. I don't ever want to take this for granted.'

His voice made Anne tremble. She tightened her hold on him, wanting to memorize the feel of his arms around her.

'We should go downstairs.' She whispered finally, unable to make herself rise from the bed. The warmth of the room and of Frederick seeped through the chill in her bones, and she was suddenly exhausted. She rolled to her side. Frederick moved against her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

As he brushed a soft kiss against her neck, Anne fell so deeply in love with him that she thought her heart was going to tear apart. She closed her eyes, close to tears.

Frederick held Anne until the steady rise and fall of her ribs told him that she had fallen asleep. Then, untangling his hand from hers, he lifted himself on one elbow and brushed her hair from her face. His heart clenched painfully as his eyes brushed her profile.

'Oh, my love...' He choked. With a great sigh, he lay back down and slipped his arm under Anne's so that he was holding her as close as possible. Tucking his knees into the space made by hers, he kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes.

The wind picked up again, and the snow turned to sleet, hissing against the windowpane. Frederick heard footsteps pass by the door several times before he was finally lulled to sleep by the sounds of the weather and Anne's soft, even breathing.

Chapter 34

Posted on Thursday, 30 May 2002

And ruin'd love, when it is built anew, grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
~William Shakespeare, Sonnet 119~

It was cold when Anne woke. As she groped for the blankets she had kicked off in her sleep, she saw that the storm had passed, and sunlight streamed in through the icy windows. Reaching down for the duvet piled at her feet, Anne caught sight of a masculine foot encased in soft, gray wool. Her breath caught as she turned toward Frederick.

He was sleeping on his stomach on top of the blankets, hugging a pillow to his chest. His T-shirt had bunched up to reveal several inches of golden, toned lower back. Except where his cheek pressed into the pillow, the worry lines in his forehead had all but disappeared, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a faint smile. His eyes were hidden by the most beautiful eyelashes Anne had ever seen on a man.

Anne pillowed her head on her arm as she gazed at him, noticing for the first time a bump that suggested he had once broken his nose. Smiling tenderly, Anne reached over and gently traced a fingertip down the bridge of his nose, wondering how the break had happened. Frederick stirred at her touch, sighing deeply.

There was a knock at the door.

Rudely shaken from her reverie, Anne glanced at the clock, and gasped. Leaping to her feet, she hurried to the door and opened it a few inches.

'Are you coming down, or not?' Elizabeth asked, smirking as she tried to see past Anne. 'You've already missed breakfast. We are starting to set up for the party, and Amanda said that she needs you desperately ... Unless you plan to stay up here all day,' she said, raising an eyebrow as a muffled yawn came from within the room.

'I'll be down in a minute.' Anne hissed, glancing over her shoulder as Frederick shifted in his sleep.

Elizabeth shrugged and turned away. Anne closed the door firmly and came to stand next to the bed. Frederick looked so cozy that she hated to wake him. She sat down next to him on the bed and reached for his hand.

'Frederick...'

He sighed as she whispered his name, and rolled towards her. With soft, incoherent murmurs, he flung an arm around her waist and settled his head into her lap.

'Wake up, sleepyhead.' She murmured, leaning close to his ear.

He muttered something, sounding cross, and tightened his hold on her.

'Dickon!' She said louder, gently shaking his shoulder.

'For heaven's sake, what?' He snarled, opening one blue eye.

'Wow,' Anne laughed down at him, 'You may sleep like an angel, but you sure wake surly.'

'Anne? I am so sorry.' He said groggily, lifting his head. 'I was dreaming ... '

I'm sorry I interrupted.' She grinned. 'It was obviously a good one.'

'You have no idea.' He said, waggling his eyebrows. 'But sometimes, reality is better than a dream ... ' He pulled her down into his arms.

Anne's heart stopped when he cupped her face in his hands and took possession of her mouth. He caressed her face and stroked her back, pulling her closer, holding her tighter, melting her resistance until Anne's mind was mush, and the only thing in the world was him. She felt herself sinking deeper, and deeper until she realized with a jolt that if they did not stop, they would never make it downstairs in time for lunch.

She pulled back abruptly. 'I'm sorry...' She said shakily, stunned by the fire in his eyes. 'We h-have to go downstairs...'

Frederick groaned in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. 'How long have we slept?'

Anne pointed at the clock.

He made a sound deep in his throat. 'How did that happen? I was only going to close my eyes for a minute...'

'You brought me home very late last night.' Anne said, breaking eye contact. She could not handle the intensity in his deep, blue eyes. 'We must have needed the sleep.'

'Best sleep I've had in a long time.' He murmured with a serious sort of smile that darkened his blue eyes.

'W-we really need to go downstairs. We will miss lunch.' The air was so electric between them that she could hardly breathe.

He sighed deeply. 'I suppose so.'

He seemed upset as he released her and started searching for his sweater. She perched on the edge of the bed, watching, until he paused with his back to her, one hand on the back of a chair.

'What's wrong?' She asked gently.

'I just ... wish ... that I didn't have to leave tomorrow.' He said, turning toward her.

'Me too.'

'And ... it may sound selfish, but I wish we didn't have to spend our last evening together surrounded by...' He trailed off and bent to retrieve his sweater from the floor behind the chair.

'I know. But it's Christmas. What would you have me do?'

His gaze was so short and direct that Anne's breath hitched in her throat. The message was so clear that he might as well have said it aloud. For the past few days, their relationship had been all sunshine and flowers. This was something new, and as scary as it was irresistible.

'D-do you really want me to skip the p-party...' Anne stammered.

'No,' He said tiredly. 'Of course not. I'll come with you.' He knew that he could not ask her to choose between him and her family when it was so unnecessary. He could never hurt her in that way, which was why he had never asked her to come back for New Year's. He was willing to sacrifice a small piece of his own happiness to spare her pain.

'You are right, you should be with them. You live in London. When you return...' The rest of his sentence was muffled as he pulled the sweater over his head.

'When I return to London, you will never have to fight for my attention.' Anne promised, stepping into his arms.

Frederick buried his face in her hair. It was going to be so terribly difficult to leave her behind.

'Help us decorate?' She asked finally. 'I want to be with you every minute until you have to leave.'

Frederick gazed down at her, and a pain shot through his heart at the anxious expression he saw there.

'I would love to.'

The work was in full swing when Anne and Frederick finally came downstairs. Amanda immediately ushered them into the kitchen for lunch, and left them with instructions to find her when they were done eating.

Elizabeth shared a meaningful look with her father before turning back to the table trimmings. Walter nodded and set aside the newspaper. Rising to his feet, he headed towards the kitchen.

Anne and Frederick were laughing when he entered. From the look of things, Anne had been trying, unsuccessfully, to feed a bit of pickled herring to Frederick.

'Control yourself, Anne!' Walter snapped.

Anne and Frederick turned to him with identical, startled, expressions.

'F-father! Y-you've met Frederick Wentworth...' Anne said, dropping the cracker she had been holding.

'Yes, I have.' Walter said shortly. 'Once, at the Crofts' party. I would have preferred to have seen him at least once more before he was installed in this household.'

'Installed?' Frederick repeated blankly.

'I am just glad that it was Elizabeth, and not Amanda, that found you this morning. I cannot believe you have taken in an uninvited guest-'

'Frederick is staying at the Hall...'

Walter shrugged. 'I heard differently.'

Anne opened her mouth, but Frederick motioned for her to wait. 'Anne is an adult, and fully entitled to invite whomever she chooses into her bedroom.' He ignored Walter's outraged cry as he continued, 'However, if it makes you feel better ... we met during a morning walk, and she invited me to breakfast. I am not sleeping here.'

Walter gave Frederick a withering look before walking past his daughter. 'Watch your behavior, Anne.' He said sharply over his shoulder as he swept from the room.

Although Walter Elliot clearly did not believe a word he had said, it did not matter to Frederick. Anne's grateful smile was reward enough. She kissed Frederick warmly before drawing back.

'We should get in there.'

Frederick groaned, but let her take his hand. 'I can endure anything ... for a price.'

Anne arched an eyebrow before dragging him through the kitchen door into the dining room.

'Make sure those pines are fresh! They have to last until the New Year's party.' Mrs. Russell was saying as she tore a bunch of half-dried pine boughs from the window.

Seeing Anne, she waved her over. 'I need your help. No one else here has done this as many times as you. I don't know what I would do without you tonight ... or on New Year's, either!'

Anne gave Frederick an apologetic smile as Amanda grabbed her arm. 'Charles will tell you what to do...'

'She isn't leaving with you?'

Frederick spun around to face Charles. 'Leaving? No. She has to help with the New Year's party.'

Charles raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he led Frederick out into the front hall. 'We have to cut new pine boughs. The others weren't good enough ... '

Mrs. Russell's Christmas dinners always began with caroling. She found that it broke the ice between new acquaintances and old friends better than anything else she had tried. Who could fail to be in warm spirits after several verses of 'Silent Night?' And tonight, there were more guests than usual. In addition to the Elliots and Mrs. Russell's friends, they were joined by the entire Musgrove family, Edward Benwick, the Cutlers, the Crofts, and, of course. Frederick Wentworth.

Anne was livelier, and lovelier, that evening than Mrs. Russell had seen for many years. Several of the guests had commented as much, asking if the change was due to the air in Italy. Amanda agreed halfheartedly, but frowned as she considered the real reason for this great transformation. Anne was not always by Frederick's side. They had too many friends there to be exclusive. However, even across the expansive living room, they seemed connected. Anne's eyes rarely left Frederick's face.

Mrs. Russell took a deep breath and began to usher her guests towards the parlor. Anne had already agreed to lead the music. Amanda watched in wonder as Frederick whispered something in Anne's ear, then seated her at the piano as gallantly as if he were her escort at a court dinner.

Anne was more than happy to play the piano. After all, she had Frederick sitting next to her, singing beautifully. Occasionally as he reached over to turn a page, he placed his other hand on her lower back. She missed a note more than once, shaken his touch and his breath in her ear.

When a servant came to announce dinner, everyone headed for the dining room. Anne remained behind, rearranging the music on the piano. Frederick stepped behind Anne.

'I love velvet.' He whispered into her neck as he slipped his arms around her and wiggled his fingers against the luxurious cloth at her waist.

His breath tickled Anne's neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, turning in his arms.

'I'm sorry that my family is still so cold towards you.' She said shakily. 'I had hoped ... '

Frederick shrugged, smiling down at her. 'At least I've won over Mary and, possibly, Charles. Elizabeth is at least civil now, even if she seems terribly cynical about you and I. I can't complain, Anne. It is more than I would have thought possible eight years ago.'

'Thank you.' Anne said in a low voice. 'Once we are in London, you will not have to put up with them any more.'

'Yes, once we are in London.' He murmured, pulling Anne tightly against him.

Anne's head fell back as Frederick's lips found her neck. 'I hope this week goes by very-'

'Are you two coming?' A voice called from the doorway.

'In a moment, Charles.' Frederick said, grinning down at Anne.

Anne gave Frederick an apologetic, slightly shaky smile. He shook his head and rubbed her arm reassuringly. 'London.'

'London.' She repeated, slipping her hand into his. 'Well, we probably shouldn't miss another meal...'

Dinner was rather awkward, but Frederick managed marvelously. There were times when he was near bursting, but Anne always knew when to take his hand under the table, or to squeeze his knee reassuringly. He thought, smiling into his wine glass, that he could manage just about anything with her at his side.

After dinner, Mrs. Russell announced that a parlor had been cleared for dancing.

'I couldn't believe my luck when Charles pulled you onto the dance floor at Samantha's party.' Frederick said softly as he escorted her from the dining room. 'I had heard that you no longer liked to dance.'

'I could never dance as well with anyone else as I did with you.'

'I wanted to ask you to dance at that harvest festival, so badly.'

'I ached for you to ask. I was so sad, watching you and Louisa. I thought that...we were beyond all hope.'

Anne thought Frederick looked just about as sad as she had felt on that day. But then, suddenly, a smile flashed across his face. He captured her hand and executed a crisp bow over it.

'Miss Elliot, may I have this dance?'

Once again, Anne discovered that Frederick danced divinely. Laughing at her compliments, he skillfully waltzed her through the crowd until they were hidden behind the enormous Christmas tree. Then, he kissed her as he had wanted to do all evening.

'I've been thinking...' She began once they caught their breath.

'So have I.' He smiled. 'You look every bit as lovely as you did when I first knew you.'

Anne blushed. He was to be forgiven for forgetting the comment he had made to Louisa just a few months ago. Who was she to complain if love made him just a little bit blind where she was concerned?

'You have become ... even more incredible.' She replied, smiling. 'I have to tell you, Frederick, that seeing you like this, feeling so very happy ... I now believe that I did the right thing when I ended things all of those years ago.'

He made a surprised sound, and stepped back, staring at her oddly.

'We have no way of knowing, but what if my fears had come true? At least now, I know that this...' She could no longer meet his eyes. 'This is exactly what I want. I know now that there will never be another-'

He caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. 'Nor for me. Never' He repeated it again, fiercely, before lowering his lips to hers.

'Am I forgiven?' Anne asked softly as they parted.

'Utterly and completely.' He smiled down at her. 'It will take a while for me to forgive Mrs. Russell ... and Charles, I believe?' He raised an eyebrow, 'For putting the doubt in your mind. I know now that they only want the best for you. I hope that they finally realize that I might, possibly, be...' He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

'You most certainly are!'

Frederick grinned at her outburst. 'I have one question, though. If I had called, or written, or flown into town ... would you have taken me back?'

'Without a second thought.'

He cursed, then apologized sheepishly. 'Well, there we are. We are among the greatest fools on God's great Earth.'

'But happy fools.'

'Yes,' He murmured, bending his head to hers as he stroked the soft skin of her face with his thumbs. 'Very, very happy.'

Chapter 35

Posted on Tuesday, 2 July 2002

Be cheerful while you are alive.
~Ptahhotpe~

The sun was just beginning to color a cold and cloudless sky as the airplane banked over the Boston harbor. Frederick gazed out of the window as the wing dipped, imagining that he could still see the airport miles below. The memory of Anne's parting embrace was still fresh in his mind, but it was the image of her standing at the gate as he started down the tunnel that would not leave him. She had looked even worse than he felt: pale, unsmiling, chewing on her lower lip as she lifted one hand in a weak wave. Damn it, he thought, why did she have to stay behind?

The violence with which Frederick slammed his fist into his armrest distracted his seatmates from their conversation.

'Okay, Wentworth?' Ned asked, smiling partly in amusement and partly in concern.

'Fine.' He replied automatically.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

Frederick sighed and turned toward his friend. 'I was just...thinking about tomorrow.'

Ned reigned in his smile. Although he could guess the true direction of Frederick's thoughts, he did not press. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, releasing Louisa's hand, and prepared to commiserate.

Frederick really was skilled at dissembling, Ned thought an hour and a half later as he outlined the course of action Faye had sent via email the night before. They had covered every topic surrounding their premature departure from the States, except Anne. Frederick had shown no more bursts of emotion, and gave every impression that he was completely wrapped up in the conversation. He would have convinced even Ned that he was "fine" if the object in his lap did not more resemble a crumpled, twisted, torn piece of subway trash than a newspaper.

A flight attendant interrupted to offer a light breakfast. After they had been served, Louisa set her book aside and entered the conversation. Ned had to smile at her opening comment. He had been happy to placate Frederick by keeping everything above water. Like a true woman, however, Louisa had picked up on Frederick's distress and would not be satisfied until she had talked him through it. Grinning, Ned leaned his chair back so that Louisa could talk over him, and dug into his breakfast.

'Anne didn't seem very happy to see you go.' Louisa remarked, spearing a sausage with her fork.

Slightly taken aback, Frederick took a slow sip of orange juice before responding, 'No. She wasn't happy.'

'I think she wished she were coming with.'

Frederick shrugged.

'Amanda Russell can be very persuasive.'

'Entirely too persuasive, if you ask me.'

'Still, Anne does live in London, and will not see them as often. I suppose I can understand.'

Frederick mumbled inarticulately around his quiche. After a few minutes of staring bitterly at his breakfast tray, he realized that Louisa was still talking. Smiling apologetically, he speared a pear and leaned back in his chair, chewing. It was then that he finally noticed the sparkle on her left hand. Reaching past Ned to grab her hand, he inspected the ring.

'When did this happen?'

'Last night. We were wondering when you would notice.' Ned said, grinning as he reclaimed his fiancée's hand from Frederick.

Frederick wiped the surprise from his face and congratulated them heartily. After a few minutes, Ned and Louisa were discussing wedding plans with enough enthusiasm to carry the conversation between themselves without noticing that Frederick had withdrawn.

Returning his attention to the sparkling expanse of ocean below, Frederick was wracked with guilt. Rather than feeling happy for the couple, he was terribly envious of their happiness. Ned and Louisa had been together for a tiny fraction of the time he had known and loved Anne, but were already planning their shared future, while Frederick was flying to London alone. Again.

He knew that he was taking it badly. Louisa was right, he supposed he understood, too. However, after eight years apart, he would have thought that Anne would be just as eager to begin the next eight years together as he was. He knew the question was unfair, but he could not help but wonder if Anne would always choose her family over him, and how it would affect the future of their relationship. He wanted her to be with him so badly it hurt.

Anne did not turn from the window until Frederick's plane disappeared from sight. Samantha and Harry Croft moved closer to her, smiling sympathetically.

'Let's have breakfast, shall we?' Frederick's sister suggested, slipping her arm around Anne's shoulders.

Anne nodded and let them lead her into the main concourse.

'I should have gone with.' She muttered as Harry left to order their food.

Samantha smiled, her eyes communicating her complete agreement.

'I had promised Amanda...' Suddenly the floodgates opened, and words poured out as fast as the tears. 'He didn't say anything-p-probably because he is too kind, and now that I live in London, I rarely see my family and friends ... it is only a week ... But ... we were just starting out again. A lot can happen in a week. W-what if I've ruined it? Oh ... oh...' Anne groaned and dropped her head into her hands, thinking of the last time she had sent him across the ocean without her. 'After all of those years, we had just...Oh, how could I?'

Samantha thought to reassure Anne by giving her further proof of Frederick's devotion, but changed her mind. Anne knew how much Frederick loved her. She had yet to prove to Frederick that her feelings ran as deep. Perhaps this doubt was healthy, and would make her value him that much more. Samantha reached over and patted Anne on the back. 'Don't worry ... these things have a way of working out.'

Anne groaned. 'For better or for worse?' She sat up. 'Please ... excuse me...'

Harry frowned as he watched Anne flee to the bathroom. 'You could have done better than that! Why didn't you tell her about the conversation you had with Frederick last night?'

Samantha shrugged. 'She doesn't need reassurance. She needs to come to a decision.'

Charles was the only person who was awake when they returned. Everyone else was still sleeping off the effects of the previous night. When Harry and Samantha entered with Anne, he started to offer them coffee. Then he saw Anne's face.

'Oh ... come here...'

Anne went into his arms, sobbing. Charles gestured for Harry and Samantha to take seats as he led Anne to the sofa.

'All right, Annie ... what do you need?' He asked, smoothing her hair.

'W-what?' She asked, looking up at him with swollen eyes and a blotchy face.

'To fly to London. What do you need?'

'But...'

'We have had you for the past twenty-eight years. I think it is finally Wentworth's turn. I assume you agree?'

Anne's smile was blinding through her tears.

'Right.' Charles cleared his throat and released her, rising to his feet. 'Samantha, will you take Anne up to her room? I have some calls to make.'

Anne was packed and sitting on her suitcases in the front hallway when Charles returned from the study. Her hopeful expression reminded him of the little girl she had once been. He exchanged glances with the Crofts, then hunkered down in front of her and took her hands in both of his.

'Feeling better?'

'Much.' She said firmly, squeezing his hands.

'This is what you want, right?'

'Yes.' She sighed. 'Why couldn't I just do this from the beginning? My job forces me to be assertive-Wouldn't you would think that I could use that in my personal life?'

'You just don't want to disappoint anyone. That's why we love you so much, Annie. Believe me, I will make everyone understand. It is the least we can do for you after all you have done for us over the years. I just have one request...'

'Anything.'

'Don't let us make decisions for you anymore. We're selfish, and only you know what you need to do.'

'I will try.' Anne smiled. 'So...what did you find out?'

'I have good news and bad news.'

'Oh, don't play with me, Charles. Am I flying out, or not?'

Charles laughed at her tone. 'Right. Well, I've booked a flight, but you don't leave until three this afternoon.'

'That late?'

'It is the day after Christmas, you know. It is a miracle that I found an open seat before New Year's. You should arrive just in time to bring Frederick breakfast tomorrow morning.'

Anne beamed, leaning forward to hug him. Thank you.

Charles drew back and rose to his feet. 'I wonder...would the two of you take her to the Hall, or even better, back to Boston?'

'Of course...'

'I think it would be best if she didn't run into any of the family before she leaves. I will take care of all of the explanations.' He said, drawing Anne to her feet.

Anne stood smiling at him. 'I am so lucky to have you as a friend...and brother.'

Charles grinned, squeezing her shoulders. 'I will expect you to return the favor. When Mary and I next travel to London, we could use a good babysitter...'

Chapter 36

Posted on Friday, 12 July 2002

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
~Homer-The Odyssey~

There were delays, of course. After almost a week of blizzard conditions, one could hardly expect flights to depart on time. Although the storms had finally passed, the vicious North wind continued to howl relentlessly. Consequently, the runways at Boston's Logan International Airport were shut down almost hourly for snow drift removal.

Anne arrived at Heathrow two hours later than she had anticipated. Rumpled, exhausted, and gritty-eyed, she stumbled through the terminal until she found a washroom. After brushing her teeth and splashing her face with cold water, she stared bleary-eyed into a mirror and decided that, anxious as she was, she could hardly appear on Frederick's doorstep in her present state. Weary as she was, she would probably pass out in his arms. Attractive as it sounded, she thought it best to take some time, and caffeine, to clear her head before heading over to his townhouse.

She fell asleep two minutes into the long taxi ride, not waking until the driver knocked on her window to announce that they had arrived at her building. Standing in her flat a few minutes later, she could hardly remember exiting the vehicle or paying the driver.

After turning on the coffee pot, she poured a bath. Sinking into the hot water, she almost cried with relief. She set her watch alarm so she would not fall asleep in the tub and drown-and woke ten minutes later when it went off. Although the water felt like heaven, she washed quickly and climbed out of the tub. Lacking the energy or patience to blow-dry her hair, she plaited it into a smooth braid. The smell of fresh coffee drew her into the kitchen, barefoot. With a mug cradled between her hands, she leaned back against the counter and gazed out of the window, where many of her neighbors were rushing late to work.

Rushing.

Her mind paused on the word. It occurred to Anne that she, too, should be in a hurry. Her decision to return to her flat really had less to do with her desire to appear fresh and bright-eyed when she saw Frederick, and more to do with the remnants of that nagging little insecurity. She did not know what sort of schedule he had for the day, other than the funeral, and every minute she delayed, she risked missing him.

That thought set her in action. She had wasted enough time with nonsensical worrying. The coffee cup went straight into the sink, and after dressing she only spared time to apply a quick coat of mascara and lip gloss. Not wanting to wait for another taxi, she left the building on foot.

The Underground was crowded with tourists. Anne felt slightly better for stopping at her flat, but in her tired and emotional state the commotion was almost more than she could bear. She momentarily regretted her decision not to ruin her surprise by calling Frederick, as she could have made the trip in the quiet, cushioned luxury of his car. She was so preoccupied that she nearly missed the call for her station, and had to make a mad dash for the doors before they closed. For once, she appreciated the mindless, repetitive recording that warned passengers to "mind the gap," as in her haste, she was apt to be more careless than usual.

It felt like heaven to leave the crowded station for the quiet residential street above. It had begun to snow, and the car tires were muffled by thick, heavy flakes that covered everything in sight. The old trees that lined the street were glazed with hoar-frost, and sparkled in the muted sunlight. The fresh air did wonders for Anne's mood, and adrenaline shot through her body as she turned onto Frederick's block. Her heart pounded crazily when she caught sight of the charming, red-brick townhouse with its tall, white-trimmed windows. The last time she had seen the building, not even a year ago, she had entertained no hope that she would ever again see its owner, let alone ... let alone...

Anne's thoughts trailed off as she came to the front walk. Her footsteps slowed uncertainly as she approached the red-painted door. She hesitated for a moment, gazing at the brass door knocker, before she lifted her hand to it. The door opened almost immediately after her first knock, startling her. She froze, gaping at the gentleman standing in front of her.

'I-just wanted to try the knocker. Not many houses have them anymore...' She stammered, thinking in her rattled state that he was looking at her so oddly because she had not used the door bell.

He smiled and opened the door wider to let her enter. 'Miss Elliot, if I remember correctly?'

She had been searching the hallway for any sign of Frederick, but upon hearing the familiarity with which she had been addressed, she returned her attention to the man's smiling face. She knew that she had met him during her stay, but she could not remember his name.

'I am Norman Hayes.' He said easily, taking no offense. 'I presume you are here to see Mr. Wentworth?'

Anne regained her faculties and realized that her shoes were dripping dirty water all over the polished stone floor. Apologizing, she stomped her feet on a thick mat, and brushed the snow from her shoulders.

'Yes. Would you please tell-show me to him?' Anne found that she was trembling.

He hesitated, studying her.

Anne took a deep breath and smiled bravely. 'I've just come from the States. It ... is rather important.'

Suddenly, the polite smile on the man's face was replaced by an expression of genuine delight. It seemed for a moment that he was going to take Anne's arm, but he restrained himself. Still grinning broadly, he ushered Anne into the front parlor, where a fire was burning merrily in the hearth.

'Mr. Wentworth is out, I am afraid. I know that he will have been very sorry to have missed you. Will you leave a message? Would you like some refreshments? '

'Oh, I don't want to trouble you.' Anne said softly. 'When will he return?'

'Are you aware--?'

'Of the funeral? Yes.'

'He was not sure when he would return. But please,' He led her to a chair by the fire, 'Let me get you something. We always have tea water on, and it is easy enough to find treats in the bread box.'

Anne hesitated. 'Thank you, but I think...'

'If you will forgive me, Miss Elliot, you look like you could use a bite. Mr. Wentworth would have my head if he knew I sent you away with nothing. Please, make yourself comfortable, and I will be back in a few minutes.'

He looked so anxious to please that Anne could not deny his request. She sank into the lovely, soft chair and stretched her cold feet toward the fire.

Hayes was gone less than ten minutes, but by the time he returned with the tea-things, Anne was soundly asleep. Smiling, he tucked a blanket around her, and left a tray of edibles nearby just in case she woke hungry.

Frederick rose with the rest of the congregation, and watched as the ushers carried Thomas Hassan's flower-draped casket from the sanctuary. There would be no interment, as he was to be cremated after the service. His last wish was to have his remains set free where, if heaven was all he expected it to be, his soul would most certainly reside. No one could travel the perilous mountain paths until late spring, but Frederick had every intention of joining the delegation that returned the director to his beloved Mt. Annapurna when Spring returned.

After the service, everyone gathered at the Annapurna estate for a dinner in Hassan's honor. After the meal, someone showed a tribute that included clips of Hassan's theater and film credits, as well as remembrances from his closest friends and associates. At the end, they ran a segment of video someone had taken during the filming of Twelfth Night. The clip showed the last take of the last scene, and had captured not only the actors, but also Hassan and everyone else who had stood in the background. Anne was just barely visible behind Michael's left shoulder, shadowed in such a way that no one who was not looking for her would have noticed. As Frederick/Orsino bent to kiss Louisa/Viola, she wore an expression of such acute longing that Frederick nearly leaped from his chair. The look was unmistakable, and no one who had seen it could have questioned her affections.

After the video ended, Frederick spared a few words for his closest friends, but quickly escaped to the front hallway. The urn holding Hassan's remains had been delivered after dinner and set on display so that people could pay their last respects as they left for the evening. Frederick had never been comfortable with the idea of cremation, and the idea of talking to an urn full of ashes was a bit unsettling, but he felt that he still had something to say to the departed spirit.

Standing before what was left of Hassan's body, Frederick searched for the words. It struck him suddenly that if it had not been for the director, he would never have met Anne, and would never have been reunited with her. He owed the man a debt greater than he could ever have repaid. Gratitude having overcome discomfort, he placed a hand on the urn's lid and lowered his head.

'Thank you.' He tried to say more, but the words would not come. Retreating to humor, since he suddenly felt rather ridiculous, he stepped back a few paces, grinning. 'If you have any pull up there, I could use a little help here ... Godspeed Anne's return.'

It was late, and raining, when Frederick returned home. He smiled wearily at Hayes, who had an odd expression on his face.

'I didn't know that it was going to rain.' He said, removing his scarf and brushing water from his shoulders. Hayes was notoriously fastidious, and Frederick assumed that he was concerned for the fate of his beautiful coat.

'Neither did I.' Hayes shrugged unconcernedly, shaking water from the cashmere scarf.

Frederick eyed the servant as he began to unbutton his coat. 'Is something wrong?'

'You ... have a guest.' The elderly gentleman's eyes sparkled.

Thinking it odd that Hayes had withheld the visitor's name, Frederick pressed him for information. He merely shrugged and said that Frederick could find his guest in the front parlor.

The room was lit only by one small lamp and the fire, and appeared empty. Puzzled, Frederick wondered if there had been a mistake until he caught sight of a blanket trailing over the arm of a chair. He had no idea who could have visited him at this time of night, especially someone who would wait in a dark room. He grabbed a cookie from a tray of untouched food as he headed towards the chair.

The cookie shattered on the exquisitely polished wood floor as Frederick peered around the tall back of the enormous armchair. He had to support himself with one hand on the back of the chair as he took a deep, shaky breath and blinked to make sure that his tired eyes were not deceiving him in the low light, and that Anne really was curled up and sleeping angelically in his armchair. It was Anne. Tears sprang to his eyes as he fell to his knees at her feet. He wrapped his arms around her legs and closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against her knees and fought to regain his composure.

Anne shifted and slowly opened her eyes. She gazed groggily at the dark head in her lap, completely befuddled. Sensing a change, Frederick slowly lifted his head. The moment she met his incredible blue eyes, the fog cleared, and Anne spoke his name with a gasp.

'W-who did you expect to see?' Frederick murmured. He sounded extremely shaken, which dampened his weak attempt at humor.

Anne gaped at him for a full minute before sliding from chair and throwing herself into his arms.

Frederick leaned forward and took her face in both hands, kissing her as she had never been kissed--a heart-stopping, mind-blowing, earth-shattering soul-kiss. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, rocking into him, caught in the intense waves of their mutual love and desire, Anne felt her heart lift from her body. Frederick loosened her braid and buried his hands deep in her dark hair, pressing her back against the chair as he possessed her mouth with an almost painful intensity. Before she lost consciousness, Anne was sure that she would fall to pieces.

She awoke in an unfamiliar bed, covered up to her chin with the most exquisite down comforter she had ever touched. Slowly, she realized that the steady noise that had awakened her was the sound of footsteps. Rolling onto her side, she observed Frederick pacing in front of the window with an intense frown on his face and a faraway look in his eyes.

'What happened?'

He was instantly at her side, holding her hand. 'You fainted.'

Anne went limp at the look in his eyes, but she still had the presence of mind to scoff at his suggestion. 'Women don't faint for kisses anymore.'

'Well, you certainly did.' He said, looking extremely pleased with himself.

'Impossible.' She said, trying to sound sarcastic despite the fact that his expression was making her shiver.

'Hardly.'

'Prove it.' Oh, that was dangerous. Judging from the fierce look in his eyes, Anne knew that she really was in for something. She was prepared to backpedal when the comforter flew aside and she found herself locked, without any possibility of escape, in Frederick's arms. Drowning blissfully in the exquisite intensity of his embrace, Anne's last rational thought was that, just maybe, there was something to that whole fainting theory.

Chapter 37

Posted on Wednesday, 30 October 2002

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I come to die, discover that I had not lived.
~Henry David Thoreau~

'Sweetheart,' Frederick said with exasperation, meeting Anne's eyes in the mirror. 'I don't know!'

'But you've been to two of these. Annapurna's New Year's Party is supposed to be a Big Deal.'

'All I know about what women wear to these things is that they show up looking fabulous.' He said casually, giving his tie one last tug. 'How do I look?'

'Wonderful.' She said distractedly. 'Do most women wear cocktail dresses or full ball gowns?'

'Last year, Lindsey wore red and Marilyn wore black. I don't remember anything else about their clothing.' He shrugged and turned around, placing his hands on her shoulders. 'Don't worry about it. You will look wonderful in whatever you wear.'

'What about your date? I'm sure you remember what she wore.' Anne grinned.

He laughed. 'Also red. Other than that, I have no idea. And before you call me incorrigible-I do remember what you wore on several occasions.'

'Which occasions?'

'I can think of quite a few. To begin: The last day I saw you all those years ago, you were wearing a light yellow sundress. I remember thinking about how good it looked against your tan skin. Your hair was all loose and tangled and wind-blown. You looked so serious...'

'And then I broke up with you.' She whispered.

He ran his hands down her arms and stepped closer. 'When I first saw you this fall at that harvest festival, you were wearing blue jeans, a maroon sweater, and your glasses. You don't wear those very often anymore, do you?'

'I now have a reason to want to look nice.'

'I like the glasses.' He smiled, lightly tapping the bridge of her nose. 'And then, at my sister's party last week...'

'You're just trying to distract me.' She murmured, smiling.

'Did it work?'

'I don't think you realize how easy you have it, Mr. "I own three splendid tuxedos that I wear quite often" Wentworth.'

He chuckled, moving away to retrieve a beautiful black wool coat from a nearby chair. 'I'm sure Lindsey will help you.'

'Will you at least tell me what sort of music there is going to be? What are the decorations like? I wouldn't want to dress for "crepe paper palm trees" and end up at a "Waterford champagne fountain" occasion.'

'Trust me, Anne, there will be no crepe paper in sight. Don't get yourself all worked up over this, sweetheart. Call Linds. Or...' His grin was truly wicked. 'Isn't Elizabeth the expert on this type of thing?'

Anne snorted. 'Thanks. Really. You have been so much help.'

'I try.' He said, laughing as he shoved his arms into the coat sleeves.

'Frederick...'

His fingers paused on a button, then fell to his sides as Anne stepped in to take over. 'Will I see you tonight?'

'Of course,' He murmured, lightly resting his hands on her waist as she buttoned his coat.

Once Frederick's coat was snugly fastened, Anne stepped back and handed a red scarf to him. It struck her, then, what a domestic scene they presented. To be able to share such a moment with Frederick had once seemed completely unimaginable. Now, even the normally mundane act of putting on a coat became suddenly poignant. A lump formed in Anne's throat as she watched him wind the scarf around his neck. She suddenly could not bear for him to leave, even just for the day.

'Is something wrong?'

'I think I missed a button.' Anne murmured, lifting her hands to the lapels of his coat.

Frederick covered her hands with his, then bent to kiss her. 'You got them all. I watched.'

'The scarf...' She said, reaching for it.

'I can't stay.' He said softly.

'I know.' Anne said weakly, winding the ends of his scarf around her hands.

Frederick wrapped his arms tightly around her. There was nothing better in the world.

Of course, Anne had known that Lindsey Cutler would be much more help than Frederick. Lindsey had helped to plan Annapurna's first two New Year's parties, and had selected her own dress nearly six months ago. Anne had not, however, expected her to be so very enthusiastic.

'Have you shopped in London before?' She asked as they drove past a very snowy Hyde Park and entered Knightsbridge.

'Yes, just a little bit around this area.' Anne replied as they passed Harrods.

'I was thinking of starting on Sloane, and then maybe going to Beauchamp...unless you are looking for a bargain?'

Anne laughed. 'Frederick and I are together, at last. If that isn't reason enough to splurge, I don't know what is.'

'That's the spirit! And then, if we don't find something here, we might try out the West End. I always find something to take home at Marks and Spencer.'

For such a wintry day, the streets were crowded. Anne felt a bit intimidated by the chic passersby, but knew that she would have to deal with much worse at the Annapurna party.

At first, shopping was fun. There was so much to try on, and the clothing seemed so much more stylish than anything Anne would have found at home.

Several hours later, Lindsey was still inspecting the displays with the same high energy. Anne, however, no longer shared her friend's mood. She only had three days to find something to wear. She was not good at shopping under pressure, especially since nothing seemed to fit right. It seemed that half of London was in the same situation, as the dress shops were crowded with frantic women and piles of discarded clothing.

As they moved from shop to shop, rejecting one gown after another, Anne became increasingly frustrated.

'I'm not sure ... ah ...Sex and the City is quite what we are looking for.' Lindsey chuckled as Anne flicked at a large rosette pinned to her shoulder.

'Whatever happened to simple, beautiful, and comfortable?' Anne muttered as she wiggled out of the close-fitting material. 'I either need to lose or gain weight, or get a body transplant. Half of these dresses seem to have been made for eleven-year-old boys, and the other half for Amazon double-Ds with fifteen-inch waists.'

'At least I didn't take you to Kensington High Street, home of the teen-age Barbie doll.' Lindsey glanced down at the pile of untried gowns in her lap. 'Let's take a break for tea.' She suggested, handing the dresses up to the attendant.

'Best idea I've heard all day.' Anne said with a sigh as she picked her jeans up from a chair. 'I wish that I had taken time to dig my old dresses out of storage at Amanda's. I haven't purchased an evening gown for years.'

It was too early for High Tea, so Lindsey told the driver to take them to Kensington Palace.

'Since we're sort of in the neighborhood, and acting somewhat touristy, we may as well take our tea at the Orangery. It is a nice spot, and you don't have to pay for a huge table spread as you would at another place.'

The break served its purpose. Anne's color and some of her good humor returned after a cup of tea and something to eat. Wrapping her hands around the steaming cup, she leaned back in her chair and gazed through the tall glass windows into the wintry garden. The sky was a stormy, slate gray, threatening snow.

'Another storm hit New England last night. I wonder how they are dealing with another foot of snow.'

'Have you spoken to Amanda yet?' Lindsey asked, 'She was not in the best mood when Michael and I stopped by to say goodbye.'

'Yes, I called her last night. She has calmed down a bit, and seems to be trying to understand. She apologized for the rather ... heated ... message she left on my machine.'

'I'm glad. Did she say anything about Frederick?'

Anne smiled. 'I think she likes him, despite herself.'

'You can't help but like Frederick Wentworth.'

The women fell silent, gazing out into the garden.

'I'm pregnant,' Lindsey said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Anne goggled at her. 'Congratulations! Michael must be ecstatic!' She did not speak the thought that followed, but Lindsey picked up on her expression.

'Yes, my ... internal organs ... were tossed around a bit during the accident all those years ago. At the time, they were not sure that I would ever be able to conceive, but there you have it! I'm three months along.'

'How long have you been trying?'

'We've been hoping for over a year, but this fall we really started trying...' she gave Anne a wicked smile, 'vigorously.'

Anne laughed. 'So ... October?' She asked, arching an eyebrow.

'We think it was the day of that fall festival, when you and Frederick first saw each other again. I remember watching Frederick dash up to the car window to say goodbye to you, and thanking God that I didn't have to go through what the two of you were experiencing. I already had my Michael.'

'Was that only three months ago?' Anne gasped.

'A lot has happened since then, hasn't it?'

'Yes...' Anne breathed, momentarily lost. Then, recovering herself, she remembered that the polite response would be to ask Lindsey about her health.

'Conception was their only concern; they saw nothing to make them question my ability to carry a baby to term. And, obviously, I have no trouble staying off of my feet!' She affectionately slapped the handle of her chair, then turned a huge smile on her friend. 'Life is full of miracles these days...when are you and Frederick going to get started? We always said that we would raise our children together...'

Anne blushed. 'We haven't had enough time to really discuss the future. With our busy schedules, a child would not have much of a home life.'

'I wouldn't be surprised if all of that changes. After all, Frederick has just received quite a promotion. He now has several reasons to stay close-'

'Promotion? He didn't tell me-'

'Really? I won't ruin it for him by telling you.' Lindsey winked at Anne as she waived at the waiter. 'Right now, we need to get back to dress shopping!'

Perhaps because they were re-energized by their meal, Anne fell in love with the first dress she tried on.

'I think this might be it.' She said cautiously as she smoothed the gown over her hips, turning in front of a three-way mirror.

'Perfect!' Lindsey agreed, reaching out to touch the fabric. 'Michael loves the feel of velvet on a woman.'

'I'm not trying to impress Michael.' Anne twinkled as she spun once more in front of the mirror.

'You know Frederick will love it.'

The luxurious black velvet highlighted her assets and hid her flaws. She was unsure about having bare arms in winter, but velvet was warm, and the gown was long enough to cover her legs. She supposed she was willing to risk a bit of a chill-especially, as Lindsey pointed out, if it inspired Frederick to be even more cuddly than usual.

Once the dress was purchased, they searched for shoes and a wrap. They considered jewelry, but Anne could not bring herself to spend the money on another frivolous expense. She owned a pair of star sapphire stud earrings that would do just as well.

When they said goodbye at the door to Lindsey and Michael's building, Lindsey paused.

'One more thing, Anne. I wanted to ask you...' She took a nervous breath. 'If the baby is a girl, Michael and I would like to name her Kristine.'

A lump formed in Anne's throat as she thought of the girl who had died all those years ago in the crash that had also severely injured Lindsey's legs, but had ultimately cemented Lindsey and Michael's relationship.

'Perfect choice.' Anne said softly, bending to hug her friend. 'I am sure that it comes with a built-in guardian angel.'

'Just so that the angel doesn't turn our daughter into the troublemaker Kris was during her lifetime!'

Chapter 38

Posted on Wednesday, 30 October 2002

A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley~

The weather on New Year's Eve was frightful, and Anne questioned her decision to wear a cloak rather than a proper winter coat. Vanity won out only because she did not know what she would do with her gauzy wrap if she wore a coat.

The limousine was waiting, and the driver immediately stepped forward to take Anne's arm to help her cross the icy sidewalk. Anne wished that Frederick was there to help her. Unfortunately, he had to help lead a pre-party press conference at the hotel. Although she loved to see his confident public face, she had declined to join him. She wanted time to get ready so that she could present her best face tonight. She did not want anyone to wonder what such a plain woman was doing with Frederick Wentworth. Not tonight.

As the driver handed her into the car, Anne was stunned to find an enormous bowl filled with flowers of all kinds carefully secured on top of the mahogany bar. Taking a deep, appreciative breath, she settled into the spacious back seat. As she reached for her seat belt, she found a series of small, silver buttons on the end of a mahogany arm rest. She pressed one. The radio came on, filling the car with the lush, flowing strains of gorgeous orchestral music. She recognized the piece immediately: Vaughn Williams' "Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis." As the car eased through the snowy London streets, she sank back against butter-soft leather, moved to the core by the lush, gorgeous, bittersweet, delicately, achingly grim music. It was with heightened senses and emotions that she discovered the envelope carefully tucked behind the bowl of flowers.

Removing it, she discovered that it was not an envelope, per se, but a carefully folded piece of thick, creamy paper sealed with ribbon and wax. The wax was imprinted with an elegantly fashioned F. A. W. Anne hesitated to break the wax because the monogram was so beautiful. She ran her finger across it, wondering at the letter A. Somehow, she had never learned Frederick's middle name. Turning the note over, she touched her own name, carefully drawn in rich, glossy black ink. Carefully, she pried the wax disc off and removed the ribbon.

The message was written in the same beautiful hand she remembered from the letter she had received only a few weeks ago.

"I have found the one whom my soul loves,"** It began.

As music continued to ebb and flow around her, Anne sank back against the leather upholstery, and began to read.

Anne, beloved, I wish I could be there with you.

I imagine you as you were when I left this evening-preparing to dress for the party. Do you know that I think you are most beautiful when you have just washed your face? Your color is heightened and your skin glows. You, fairest of the fair, have no need for makeup.

I cannot wait to see you, and not only because I am anxious to see you in your evening gown. I have so much to tell you! What I love most about you, my darling, is that every waking minute I think of more things that I want to tell you. You are my dearest, dearest friend.

You have no idea what it means to have you here. I know what it took for you to leave your family behind to come to me. I am sorry that the decision hurt you, but I cannot be sorry that you did it-I am a selfish man, and you have just given me the greatest gift of my life. I plan to spend the rest of my life making up for any hurt this may have caused you, and for any hurt I may have caused you.

I can hardly write, for I am picturing you, alone in this cold car, and I am overcome by remorse. You should not have to arrive alone. I am so sorry.

The press awaits, and so I must end this. I should be through in a half hour, after which I will wait for you in the lobby. I know that it will take you longer than that to arrive, but please hurry, love. I am waiting. I don't think that I can wait much longer.

Yours,
Frederick

Anne folded the missive, shaking. Beloved ... My Darling ... Love ... Dearest Friend. She pictured him in this very seat, tapping the pen against his lips as he thought-as he so often did. Folding and sealing the letter with ribbon, wax, and perhaps even a kiss. Carefully arranging the flowers, tucking the letter behind where it would be safe. Then, he would take a deep breath, glance briefly in the mirror, and climb gracefully from the car, straighten his clothing, and stride into the Savoy as if he owned it. At the press conference, he would conduct himself with the charisma and confidence that so took her breath away.

If Frederick had one fault, Anne thought, it was blindness. She was no beauty, and certainly not worthy of one such as him. She took great comfort in the fact that she had not yet met a woman that did deserve him.

The car stopped in front of the Savoy sooner than Anne had expected, and she was not nearly ready. Taking a deep breath, she carefully folded the letter and slipped it into her tiny handbag. She pulled the cloak tightly around her against the blustery wind as the driver helped her from the car.

Anne saw Frederick as soon as she stepped through the door. His dark head was bent over a newspaper and a half-full glass of amber liquid sat forgotten at his elbow. Casually seated in a leather chair, he looked as naturally comfortable in his beautiful evening wear as he had once been in ragged blue jeans.

Anne removed her cloak and stood with a pounding heart until Frederick lifted his head and slowly caught sight of her. His sudden, unconscious smile was so big, so loving, so open, and so beautiful that it took Anne's breath away.

He rose in a fluid movement and came quickly to stand in front of her.

'Hey,' He said softly.

'Hi.' She gazed wonderingly at the beautiful man standing before her. She suddenly felt very shy.

'You look...' He trailed off, unable to put his thoughts to words. Instead, he stepped forward and took Anne's cloak from her, draping it over a nearby chair. Lightly placing his hands on her arms, he bent to kiss her reverently. 'You are cold.' He declared, running his hands up and down her arms. 'Why didn't you wear a warmer coat?'

'I thought it would ruin the effect.'

He stepped back to survey her, murmuring his appreciation as he lifted the delicate silk wrap from Anne's bent arm and held an end up to the light. A nearly-transparent cornflower blue, it fell delicately from Anne's bent elbows to brush the hem of her gown. She had selected it because Frederick, Dickon, used to say that he loved to see her in that particular shade of blue.

Frederick carefully rearranged the wrap on her arms, then lightly touched her jeweled ear lobes and then her bare throat. Anne felt her pulse flutter against his fingertips.

'Exactly perfect ... but you seem to be missing something.' He said, grabbing his coat from a nearby chair. 'I have just the thing.' He drew a long box from an inside coat pocket.

Snapping the box open, he turned it in his hands to face Anne. She gasped. Nestled in white satin was an exquisite necklace made of sapphires and diamonds mounted in platinum. Frederick pointed out, eyes dancing with irony, that the jewels exactly matched Anne's wrap. These were not star sapphires, but their color also closely matched that of her earrings.

Anne nodded appreciatively at the comment, but said nothing because she was too busy noticing how the blue of his eyes put the sapphires to shame.

Frederick removed the necklace from its box and lifted it to Anne's throat. In a daze, she lowered her head, holding her breath as he leaned in to fasten the necklace around her neck. He fumbled with the clasp and leaned closer, peering over her shoulder to view his work. Anne closed her eyes, swaying slightly as Frederick's breath tickled her ear and the subtle scent of his cologne and the nearness of his body filled her senses.

'All right?' Frederick's voice had gone slightly hoarse. His hand shook a bit as it brushed her throat and then her cheek. Clearing his throat, he stepped away from Anne to study the necklace's effect with a critical eye. Finally, nodding his approval, he led Anne to a mirror and turned her to face it.

Anne met his eyes in the mirror. Her light-headedness increased, and she placed a hand on a small table to steady herself. She touched the necklace self-consciously with her fingertips, forcing her eyes to drop from Frederick's warm gaze to the jewels at her throat.

'What do you think?' He asked anxiously.

'I can't believe you..." Frederick distracted her by moving his warm hands up her bare arms to rest on her shoulders. "It is beautiful.' She ran a finger across the cool, smooth gems. 'It must have cost ... why ... ?'

'Because I thought of you the moment I saw it.' He touched the jewels briefly, and then bent to kiss her throat, just above the necklace.

'Thank you' She breathed, utterly under Frederick's spell. She turned in his arms and leaned back against the table.

A noisy group of people entered the lobby, reminding Anne that they were in a public place. As Frederick leaned forward, she put a hand on his chest. 'Don't we have a party to get to?'

He laughed. 'Yes, you are right. You have a very distracting effect on me, Anne Elliot."

They walked to the elevator with their hands casually entwined.

I'm afraid that tonight may be a bit of a trial,' Frederick said as they entered the elevator. 'I will buy you earrings to match your necklace if you decide to stay with me after tonight.'

'I believe you are trying to buy my love,' Anne said softly as he turned towards her in the empty elevator, 'with jewels and pretty words.'

'I would do anything.' He said in a low voice, toying with the idea of hitting the elevator stop button. Instead, he cornered Anne and slipped his arms around her waist. They only had time for the briefest of kisses before the doors opened and spilled them into the most splendidly decorated ballroom Anne had ever seen. She was momentarily blinded. Then, she realized that a news camera was aiming in their direction. She gave Frederick a questioning glance. She thought the media was not allowed at Annapurna's parties.

'This year especially,' Frederick began, holding the doors as Anne stepped out of the elevator into the melee of arriving guests, 'Annapurna needs to show that it has no financial worries. Which is why, at this one party only, we have invited representatives from four news agencies. Forgive me. I wish I could spend a quiet New Year's with you, without all of this ... extra...' He waived a hand helplessly.

Anne squeezed his hand. 'Don't worry about all of the extra. Let's make the best of this.' She glanced around at the dimly lit, lavishly decorated room. 'This is really beautiful, and I have been aching to dance with you again.'

'I promise to dance as much as you wish ... later.' Frederick gave her an apologetic smile. 'First, there is another matter that sorely needs my attention. Here are Lindsey and Michael. Can I leave you with them for a few minutes?'

'Of course.'

'I will meet you in five minutes over ... there.' He said, pointing to a less crowded part of the room. 'By that pillar and the giant ... is that a pear tree?' He brought his lips to her ear, murmuring for her only, 'And, please, try not to let anyone follow you.'

Anne gazed after him as he strode towards the reporters, then turned to greet Michael and Lindsey. Thankfully, they were so excited about the baby that she was not required to say much.

'Shall we escort you to your rendezvous?' Michael asked after a while, offering an arm.

'No, thank you. In fact ... I'm sorry. Will you please excuse me?'

She had caught sight of Frederick ushering the reporters to a more inconspicuous location, far away from the spot where Anne was to meet him. Catching the train of her dress with one hand, Anne gave Lindsey and Michael an apologetic smile and hurried into the crowd.

Frederick was leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, deep in conversation with the reporters. He looked perfectly at ease. At one point, however, one of his companions apparently asked a question that upset him. His entire being changed.

'Don't bother the guests about their personal lives.' Anne heard Frederick say emphatically. Then, his gaze fell on Anne. He signaled for her to stay in place, quickly taking his leave of the reporters.

'What are you doing here?' He asked briskly, taking her elbow and quickly steering her away from the two gentlemen.

'I wanted to see you in action.'

'Those two men are the reason I asked you to wait. I don't want them to bother you.' He dropped her arm. 'Five minutes, at the spot I pointed out.'

Anne was left standing, stunned, as he disappeared into the crowd.

She made her way to the corner he had indicated. Behind columns, and draperies, and potted trees, the light was dim. Through a large window, she could see snow falling heavily. She sank heavily onto the window ledge and waited, thinking that it might have been a mistake to come.

Frederick appeared almost exactly five minutes later. He stood looking down at her for a moment.

'I am so sorry.'

A sob rose in Anne's throat.

'I told you it might be a trial.' He said gently, sitting next to her. 'I didn't mean to get upset, but those two are not the most discreet men. We invited them to report on the party, not to hound the guests. Anne...'

She cleared her throat. 'I'm not sure I'm ready for your world, Frederick.'

'But you are!' He said earnestly. 'More than any woman I've ever met, you are.'

'Why do you want to be with me?'

'Because I love you.' He said tenderly, brushing an imaginary hair from her cheek. 'Isn't that enough? Why do you want to be with me?'

She took a deep, steadying breath and smiled. 'I suppose we should get back to the party.'

'Not just yet.' He said, taking her hand. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes.' She folded her hands around his. 'I'm sorry I am such a wimp.'

'I wouldn't want you any other way.' He smiled. 'By the way, I should tell you that, despite my unhelpfulness, you have managed to find the absolutely perfect gown.'

'Lindsey thought you would like it.' The music became louder, signaling the official start of the party. 'Shouldn't we get in there?'

'I haven't officially welcomed you to the party. It is my duty, after all, as host.'

'This wasn't welcome enough...?' Anne asked, touching the necklace at her throat.

'Not nearly. I was thinking of something more like this...'

Moments later, he helped a breathless Anne to rise from the windowsill.

'I'm afraid I've ruined your lipstick.' He said softly, brushing her mouth with his thumb.

Anne turned her face into his hand, holding his gaze until he drew a deep sigh and kissed her again.

'We're never going to get in there.' Anne murmured.

'Yes, we are. I owe you a dance.' He replied.

And dance, they did. He had danced well at the Crofts' Christmas party, but then he had been distracted by his need to talk to Anne. Now, his attention was solely on this moment with her, and she discovered that he danced even more divinely than she had remembered. Thoughts of Eliza Doolittle and Maria from The Sound of Music flashed through her head.

Frederick paused occasionally to greet his many friends. Most of the rest of the evening, however, he played the devoted suitor to Anne.

As midnight approached, they once again found themselves nearly alone on the edge of the crowd.

'You said earlier that you were host?'

'It came with the job.'

'Lindsey said that you had received a promotion...'

'You didn't know?' He grinned. 'Faye has taken Michael and me on as partners. He said that we had worked closer with Hassan than anyone, and knew more about the company than most.'

'I am so proud of you! But, of course, it is only what you deserve. Is that why you have been so busy during the past few days?'

'We're restructuring. Michael and Lindsey are going back to the states, to work with Mica. Will Elliot is going with them.'

'Will? What about Marilyn?'

'She has reconciled with her husband. Will thought it best that they not work so closely anymore. He will recover. In fact, he said something about asking for your sister's phone number. It seems that they had been involved at one time.'

'I doubt anything will happen there.'

'Jealous?'

'Lord, no! You don't know Elizabeth! Although, maybe Will would be good for her. She could do with a good shaking up.'

Frederick was laughing. 'I don't really want to talk about your sister, or about work.'

'You had another topic in mind?' Anne asked.

Frederick was about to act on his thoughts when two servants appeared to thrust noisemakers and glasses of champagne into their hands.

"I've been forestalled.' He said dramatically, lifting his full hands.

'You don't need hands to do this...' Anne said, stepping forward to kiss him.

'No,' He glanced away as the crowd began the count down to midnight. 'But I do need free hands...' He stuck his horn into his pocket, then took a sip of his champagne and knelt to set it on the ground at his feet. Except that he did not rise from the ground.

Anne stared dumbly at him as first her noisemaker, and then her champagne, and then finally her hand was claimed by Frederick.

'...to do this.' He continued. The ring in his hand glittered. 'Stay with me forever, Anne. Marry me.'

Misinterpreting her silence, he rose to his feet and frowned down at her. 'I know that we have only been back together for a little over a week, but I know. I have waited eight years for this. I can't wait any longer, Anne. I am so afraid that I will lose you again.'

The noise increased as the crowd reached the final part of the countdown. The lights came on suddenly, and confetti began to fall. The room was in pandemonium.

Frederick's eyes were impossibly deep. He held his hands open at his sides, the ring held carefully between thumb and forefinger. He gave a half-shrug, waiting.

Anne finally came back into herself.

'Not a chance.' She said, diving into his arms.

Much later, during the long car ride home, Frederick held Anne's hand, turning it so that the ring sparkled in the dim light coming through the car windows.

'So, what am I to tell Michael when he asks what you said when I proposed--"Not a chance"?'

Anne smiled, lifting her head from his shoulder. 'Why not? Let him wonder. He'll know as soon as he sees me, for how could anyone miss this ring?' She asked, holding up her hand.

'Anne,' Frederick said softly, 'It was a roundabout way of asking, but...You're wearing the ring. For my own peace of mind, could you please give me a more definitive answer?'

'Oh, Frederick, I'm sorry! Yes, of course I will marry you! It is what I want most in the world.'

'Thank you. Now it's officially official. I will tell that to Michael. And as for the rest...' Frederick said, pushing a button to raise the divider between them and the driver. 'That's none of his business.'

**The Bible. Song of Solomon 3:4.

Continued In Next Section