Hi, so here is another update, a part of my xmas update, a double update (perhaps triple update) that i do before Xmas. I hope to get one more done before this one.

Again as i always say spelling, grammar and this language are not my strongest suit so i do apologise for any issues with all of the mentioned then i do apologise.

Disclaimer-Nothing here is mine.

Please Read and Review.

Again some change to the dialogue and the scenery. But this chapter kinda took a life of it's own so I hope you enjoy either way.

Silver And Grey

Chapter 9-A Hopeless Wound.

Frederick realises the entanglement he is in when his friend tells him that Louisa Musgrove's name is attached to his own within the village. Later he comes to a realisation of his own (this chapter is in Frederick's point of view only). Some changes from cannon both film and book and quite a lot of changes to the dialogue.

Louisa Musgrove had been recovering rather well. Frederick had not really been to see her other than that first visit which was out of politeness and a terrible sense of guilt rather than anything else. He was glad the girl was not dead or seriously injured and he thanked God for the small mercy but he was no longer interested in her as anything other than an acquaintance.

He wondered if he ever had been.

It was not an honourable thing to be sure if he looked at himself in the mirror. It was not a thing for the admiralty to see. He had taken a young girl in the prime of her youth and had used her feelings for him to inspire jealously in another woman.

And it had worked so well.

In the darkness of the bedroom Frederick thumped the pillow in frustration. It was unbecoming, terribly unbecoming of him to use Louisa like that. In truth she would make a good naval officer's wife. Of course she was not the type to get on a boat and travel with her husband like Sophy had done but she was certainly the type to keep a good fire going and a house and estate in good company while her husband was off doing his duty.

And that would have been alright he had mused to himself in the early hours of the morning. That would have been alright. It might not have been what he had really wanted but he supposed he could have gotten his brain around a wife waiting for him at home with children.

But that woman had still not been Louisa Musgrove.

In truth she was still a child herself. The gap between them spanning in years was beyond what he had wanted for himself. She would need time to adjust to the mantle of wife and the long absences before she could gain the title of mother.

That was not what he wanted. In truth Frederick was ready for a family now. He did not want to wait when his career could kill him at moment. A captaincy did not guarantee immunity from death and sometimes when he had indulged in the silliness he had wondered if Louisa or even Louisa's parents had ever truly grasped such a concept.

He turned his head and banged it again into the pillow. In truth there was another reason why he was not intending to extend his liaison with Louisa Musgrove.

Anne Ell—no Lady Anne Paget.

Damn her.

It had certainly not been Frederick's intention to open that book again but it appeared that he had without meaning too. His intention—as childish as it had been—had always been to show her that he was unaffected by her. And in turn all it had done was show him how very much in love with her he was. And in truth all it had done was show him how much over him she was.

Damn it all to hell!

Anne had looked at him like he was a pane of glass most times. She did not divulge much about her marriage either so Frederick could not tell if it was because she truly missed her husband and she had sworn off marriage. He had known woman like that but they had been more towards Mrs Musgrove's age with their prime years behind them and content to wear black for the rest of their lives. They were not Anne's age with a young child and the prospect of bearing more.

Anne had a considerable fortune behind her too. She would be prime for remarriage and Frederick remembered enough about that father of hers to know that he was probably considering who best to elevate his social standing by marrying his middle daughter off to.

He sat up the bed clothes pooling around his waist. He slept naked a habit that had come when he was granted the use of his own cabin and he forced the pillows up so he was sitting and glowered at the smug portrait of Walter Elliot that was adorning the room. Truly the man was a monster to his own vanity and with the exception of Anne had ruined his children beyond belief. The eldest Miss Elliot had been (if memory proved true) a complete and utter ninny and Frederick pitted the poor sod saddled with her, Mary was he supposed not too bad and Charles had developed the habit of ignoring her most of the time but Charles Musgrove had the patience of a saint and had grown up around the whims of flighty women if his sisters were anything to go by. Frederick liked him but acknowledged that he would last five minutes in a military occupation.

And then there was the boy.

Arthur.

The more Frederick thought about him the more uncomfortable his feelings got and the more confused he got to boot. He knew from conversations had with Sophy that a boy that age should have the stability of a father. Anne was coming out of her mourning (though she never gave the impression that shew as mourning the man she had married) and the boy would need a father in his life—God as well as the rest of them knew that Walter Elliot would ruin the boy utterly—and Charles had two sons of his own and was naturally preoccupied with securing their future.

Arthur Paget was a good lad as well. Clearly he thought the world of his mother and he obeyed before anyone else. He too never spoke of his father but that might be grief or taking his mother's example to heart Frederick did not know. He was a normal boy despite his loss though enjoying reading and playing outside and though Frederick did not want to admit it when he had pictured the children that he and Anne might have been blessed with Arthur was the prime example of the son he had imagined, he had imagined girls as well during those months when he had been courting Anne and he'd thought their lives together a certainty. Now it was all dust.

He tried to think about what it was that was really getting under his skin though and he realised the truth of the matter as an owl hooted in the distance.

He was still in love with her. And it was clear that she was not in love with him.

And honestly how could he blame her. Frederick thought back on his behaviour and winced. He had been cold when they had first met, unable to keep the sneer of his face. He had then mocked her in her own family home as she sat at the table spooning soup into her mouth, he then flirted with a girl under her very nose and had stalked off whenever she had engaged in conversation with either himself or one of his friends and then to top off all matters he had then inquired several times into her marriage and the conduct of her husband despite the fact that the man was dead and could not defend himself.

But the more he thought about it the more Frederick did wonder if there was something more…well more. Anne's behaviour, her conversation and her comments the other night as she had gotten back in the carriage continued to plague his thoughts. Her comments had cut him to the very heart of him and her words continued to keep him awake.

No wonder she was no longer in love with him when you looked objectively at his behaviour.

Frederick kicked the blanket at the end of the bed and watched it crumple into a heap on the floor. He hoped it was expensive and he hoped it was Walter Elliot's favourite. God he still could not stand the man.

He turned over and attempted to get some sleep. Harville was supposed to be taking him for a walk tomorrow and Frederick knew the air coming from the fields and the grass and the smells that accompanied such sights would calm him somewhat. Also Harville was last time he checked in a relatively happy marriage. It would not hurt to gain his opinion on what he had thought of Anne.

And with that he turned over and tried to get some semblance of sleep.

The next morning did not improve his mood whatsoever. In fact the weather had turned, the wind cold and spraying rain down on his face. Harville was unperturbed though (unlike Charles Musgrove who confessed he did not like rain) as he should be. They were naval officers, rain came with the job and a light shower was nothing compared to the chaos that came when you had to direct a ship out the way of an incoming wave that might capsize it because you were caught in the middle of a tropical storm.

Despite his intentions however Louisa Musgrove and her sister had insisted on accompanying them. Or rather Benwick had invited her and her sister. Louisa still pale was on his arm now and simply delighted to walk about after weeks in bed. Frederick had gritted his teeth as she had simpered at him and then at Benwick and wondered how on Earth he had thought her ready for marriage or even as a candidate for his heart when Anne Elliot had existed.

Love was a fickle thing indeed.

"I hear Louisa Musgrove is recovering" Harville said as they walked.

"Indeed" Frederick said wondering how on earth he was supposed to bring up Anne now that Louisa could overhear.

"I hear congratulations are in order for you too my friend. She will make a fine bride"

That did catch him up short.

"Excuse me?"

"Well her mother is certainly talking about it as if it was a certainty" Harville continued coming to a stop. "And Charles simply cannot contain himself talking of impending proposals. I assume that means you unless you know of some other man…?"

Frederick did not know. He did not know anything at that moment. Indeed he simply stood there too horrified to form words. Harville seemed to understand however.

"I take it there is not to be an understanding between you?"

"No! Not in my understanding no! Never!"

Harville watched him for a second. "Then I fear you will greatly disappoint her family. You have behaved as if you wanted a marriage contract between the two of you, you have flirted and showered attention on her and called in on her while she has been injured—"

"Because that was my fault!" Frederick cried feeling like he was going to scream and uncaring of the people around him including the woman who was the topic of conversation and whom was within hearing distance should she so want to listen. How, how could this be happening? How could he figure out what he wanted and who he loved only to have it be taken away from him by society.

"Perhaps" Harville said his voice still low and it forced Frederick to lower his. "And you can do what you want. Other woman have walked away from such entanglements unscathed. You have not permanently damaged Louisa Musgrove's reputation in any way. She is young she will recover. She's handsome with a good dowry and good standing. You can walk away if you wanted to"

"No I could not" Frederick said heavily and he knew it. The Musgrove's had many connections within this part of the county and Sophy he knew liked it here. She too would have heard the rumours and she too would be thrilled at the thought of settling down her little brother who had always proven difficult in matters of the heart. Besides she would not the issue with a marriage of convenience. Her own had been one and the love had come with the passing of the years not at first sight. And Louisa deserved better than being left in the cold because he was pining for a woman who had made it clear through her actions and through her blank gazes that she did not return his intentions or his feelings.

"I must consider myself in all honour to be bound to her" Gods above it sounded like a death sentence. A loveless marriage on his part to a woman who was still barely out of her teenage years, had only just left her finishing school. There was nothing he could do. He was a Wentworth before anything else and after that an officer in His Majesty's Royal Navy. Honour was the backbone of his life and his career. Honour dictated that he must do the decent thing and the decent thing here was to ask her for her hand in marriage and attempt to build some sort of a life with her.

He looked at Louisa Musgrove on Benwick's arm and though it was not her fault in the slightest he found a slither of hatred for her in this moment.

Harville said nothing but his hand came to Frederick's shoulder for a second. Frederick did not shake him off and eventually Harville let his hand go.

He looked out over the view that was in front of him and gritted his teeth. He could not marry Anne, he had to marry someone else.

And the fault lay at nobody's door but his own.

Again some changes in the dialogue but i hope you enjoy anyway. The next chapter should hopefully be following this one.

Next Chapter-William Elliot makes his presence known. Louisa Musgrove gets her happy ever after and all Anne wants is an easy path forward towards a future with no pain that she wishes she could see.