Because I know for definate that I wont have any internet access on Friday, I'm giving you the second chapter now (arent I nice?). There isnt an awful lot that goes on in this one, and we are in some ways, building to what will happen over the next couple of chapters.

And be aware, something will happen. An event that will help Frederick see clearly, and finally listen to his heart. But will it be all too late?

...god that sounds cheesy


The sun was just beginning to rise over the still, calm water of the sea, when Anne was woken the next morning by Margaret Harville calling her name softly.

Having had less than six hours sleep in a proper bed, which wasn't really a proper bed but a pile of sheets set up hastily on the floor, Anne had difficulty waking properly and functioning with her usual composure, and it took her longer to emerge from the pile of sheets than it would have done, had she have gotten a proper nights sleep.

Wiping away the sleep from beneath her eyes and careful not to disturb Louisa, she shrugged out of the borrowed nightdress and put on one of the dresses she had left behind before setting off on the wild ride home, and back again, last night. Someone had obviously been over to the inn, either early this morning or late last night, and picked up her clothes that she had left behind.

Once she had finished, and had made herself presentable, she went downstairs.

The stove was going in the small kitchen area as Margaret Harville and her children's maid readied the breakfast. Shooing her to the table when she tried to help, Anne sat herself down and was instantly handed a cup of tea as well as a plate of toast.

She continued to watch the woman of the house, and the maid who had been with her for years, interact with one another as they continued to cook food and ready the table for an on slot of hungry mouths. The Harville's had 4 kids, Anne learned. The eldest being eight years old and the youngest just five months old, with the two in between being aged three and six.

The youngest, a wee boy, was currently asleep in the corner of the kitchen but woke as a pot was banged on the stove and began to wail. As both the other woman where busy, Anne jumped up, happy to be of some use to the people she was currently imposing on. Picking the child up from the cot and settling him on her shoulder, he instantly calmed.

Smiling at how easily her son calmed to the young woman's touch, Margaret handed Anne a pre-prepared bottle and asked her if she would mind feeding him. Smiling her agreement, Anne placed herself in the old rocking chair in the corner, rested the baby in the crook of her arm and began feeding him.

He was almost all the way through the bottle when Captain Wentworth and Captain Harville entered the kitchen, the latter almost knocking the former over after Wentworth had stopped suddenly at the sight of Anne with the child.

She didn't notice his arrival right away, her attention being focused on the babe in her arms, making sure that he didn't finished the bottle and continue sucking on nothing but air. An action that would cause him nothing but wind and discomfort. She was lifting him onto her shoulder when she spotted the gentlemen in the doorway. Blushing from the intense gaze that Captain Wentworth was giving her, she muttered a good morning to them both.

Stepping round his friend, Harville walked the couple of steps towards Anne and took the child from her,

"He makes a terrible mess, after feeding," he said. Sitting himself down at the table and hoisting the child onto his shoulder, his wife placing a used rag over the very same shoulder. "I would not want you to have to change clothes when you have only just out them on for the day."

"It would have been no trouble," she insisted.

"Nonsense," Harville told her. "You are already doing so much. I do not want to add yet another chore onto your daily tally."

"It is no chore really. He is a much more placid child than either of my sisters two."

"He is a good child," Margaret said, placing several plates down on the table. "Doesn't cry as much as the other three did." She smiled down at the child who was currently closing his eyes on his fathers shoulder.

"Nothing like his namesake, aye Frederick?"

"Name one time my friend, when you have seen me cry for a meal." Came Frederick's reply as he took up a knife and fork, and tucked into his breakfast.

"Never cry, no. But you moan and whine enough to be mistaken for a bairn."

Shaking his head and ignoring the light laughter that emitted from those seated round the table, Frederick continued to eat. Trying to ignore the young woman in the corner who had already thrown him for six once already this morning.

He had not been expecting to walk into the small dining area in the Harville's home, to be immediately confronted by the sight of her. Let alone the sight of her with a babe in her arms, looking as though it belonged there. So natural, that his mind had been immediately thrown into another time, one in his own mind, where he had once pictured them as a family unit.

He had imagined she would be good with kids, would teach them and love them the way children should be. They would be a credit to her, any children that she had.

He remembered a recent time too. When she had been prevented from attending the very first dinner at the Musgroves due to caring for her nephew. Her sister, Mrs Mary Musgrove, had said at the time that Anne was able to stay as she did not have a mothers feelings. In the small part of his mind that was not revelling in the fact that she was not there - that he would not meet her again just yet - had thought that it was more likely to be the other way round. Anne cared deeply for everyone and everything, and at one time, even for himself.

The child, instead of falling asleep, woke and in only the way that a babe without words can, demanded the attention of his father. Who himself was trying to eat his breakfast using one hand.

Anne's hands reached in again and plucked the child from Captain Harville's shoulder, turning away from the group seated at the table as to avoid any entreaties not too. Frederick watched her seat herself back down in the rocking chair, rocking it back gently and sitting the child on her lap. Stimulating him into interacting with her through singing lightly to him and lightly caressing his little hands as he happily bounced on her lap.

"I would have thought to have found you both up in Louisa's room this morning," Frederick found himself asking. The moment after he had spoken, he inwardly winced. His observation had come out harsher than he had intended.

Anne looked up sharply and catching his expression, quickly gathered herself up, made her excuses and headed up stairs after dropping the child back into his cradle gently. The wee boy began to murmur as soon as she let him go, his discomfort increasing as soon as he realised she wasn't coming back to pick him up again.

"There was no need for that Frederick," Margaret Harville let her guest know as she went to comfort the child. "Miss Louisa is not going anywhere, and was fine when I checked on her not twenty minutes ago. Miss Anne could have sat down here for a little longer. She'll be on her own for most of the time during the next couple of days anyway, some company would have done her good."

"I consider myself appropriately admonished, Margaret. In my defence, I did not mean it to come out as it did."

"It is not me you should be apologising too, Frederick. You can not take it out on others just because Miss Louisa is injured and you are worried about her. It is not right."

"Next time I see her, I shall tell her I am sorry," Frederick promised.

Harville watched the whole thing with a slight smile upon his lips and a query in his mind. He understood that Frederick was indeed worried about Miss Louisa (how could he not be) but Harville was still trying to work out how far the worry stretched. In the household he alone, baring the two people in question, knew the whole back story between Frederick and Miss Anne Elliot.

Harville knew that this meeting between the two of them eight years later, must excite some feelings on Fredericks side. Of hers he did not know, but he had noticed that she avoided Frederick as much as she could whilst watching him equally as much, and Harville found it difficult to believe that she was unaffected by his return into her life.

Where Miss Louisa fitted in, he was not too sure. Before her accident, and though they had only spent maybe a day in each others company, he saw that the young lady preferred Frederick to anyone else in the group and could often be found hanging onto his elbow.

As to Fredericks preferences, he could not say. His friend lapped up the attention, but could often be seen glancing in another direction as if to check that this simpering and fawning was being observed by one of the group in particular.

He shook his head, his pondering would do no good at the moment. There was work to be done within the house and a sick woman to be taken care off, and made right before anything was decided.

"You should not pay Frederick much heed, my dear," Mrs Harville told her when she joined Anne in Louisa's sick room a little while later.

Looking up from dabbing Louisa's brow with a cold compress, Anne smiled at her. "He was right," she answered truthfully. "I should be watching over her, just in case there is a sudden change and the surgeon must be fetched."

Margaret Harville frowned.

"It would do you no good to spend your entire day within this room Miss Elliot. We would not wish you to fall ill as well," the other woman said to her. Turning back to her charge, Anne continued to wash her face, clearing away any trace of dirt and sweat that lingered.

The local surgeon arrived a short while later with Charles Musgrove arriving not far behind him. Anne sat quietly by the window as the man looked over his latest patient, noting that she had not yet woken from her slumber. The prognosis of last night was to stand; there was no injury to any other part of her body apart from the head, and the skin on that had not been broken either, merely bruised.

The surgeon, a local man how had been in the neighbourhood for a long time, said to himself that he had never yet met such a capable young woman of the higher social circle. He was impressed with the young lady who was to be his patients nurse while she was in need of one. She asked intelligent questions and listened to what he said with great interest. He felt no worries about leaving his patient in her hands.

Charles, though a little shocked to see Anne when she emerged from Louisa's room with the surgeon, was glad. He had thought that it would be a good idea to have someone from the family to nurse his sister and knew himself that his wife was not the best choice. He had had no fight left in him last night to argue any further, and accepted the decision. It was not that he didn't trust the Harville's, he thought them the best of people, he just felt that his sister would appreciate a friendly and known face when she finally woke.

And there was no doubt in Charles' mind, she would wake. And when she did, it would do her good to see a familiar face such as Anne's.

As Frederick himself had said the previous night, no one so good, so capable as Anne, to take care of his sister when she so desperately needed it.