Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own, etc

Summary: See Previous Chapters

Chapter Eight

Upon returning to Somerset, Fredrick Wentworth was not entirely certain how the sudden trip to Lyme had been arranged, or how he had become involved, without ever being present for the discussions.

Still, it would be good to visit the Harvilles and Benwick, whose letters grew more morose by the month. Awaiting his next assignment, Benwick had little to occupy himself but to read and dwell on the memories of Fanny, seared into every corner of the house she had shared with her brother's family. If nothing else, Fredrick might be able to pull rank - while they were equals as Captains, Fredrick was the more experienced, and had spent some years as Benwick's Captain - and order the poor man to read something other than Byron for a change.

The agony of being rejected was not equal to the pain of losing a fiancee to death, but if Sophy and Croft were agreeable to another guest, perhaps a change of scenery and company would do Benwick good.

Lyme was its own torment.

Phoebe and Anne's presence meant that Fredrick could ride outside the carriage, rather than being crammed in with Mrs Mary Musgrove's complaints and Louisa and Henrietta's chatter as they planned and speculated. It did not spare him from being forced to listen through an open window, but he was better off than Mr Charles Musgrove, trapped inside the carriage with no escape except when they rested or changed the horses. Fredrick was finding Louisa's self-assurance and confidence of opinion was rather less attractive when she spoke of things she knew little or nothing about. Anne, practical and sensible as she was, was hemming a handkerchief, while Miss Weirbrook embroidered another. Their progress was rather slower than it might have been in a more stable setting than a bouncing carriage, but at least it gave them an excuse not to engage overmuch with the others.

Lord Berrington was waiting for them at the Inn, lines of tension melting into hope and relief as Phoebe all but leaped from the carriage into his arms. Lord Berrington steadied her, a wide, genuine smile improving his looks considerably. "It's a good thing we're already engaged, or that might be considered compromising."

Phoebe, likewise, appeared as though a weight had been lifted. "Oh, well, if we must. What are the rules for an engaged couple in England?"

The Earl offered her his arm, doing his best to ignore Mrs Mary Musgrove, who was in raptures at an acquaintance higher in rank than the Dalrymples, and whom her father and eldest sister had yet to meet. "Looser than for a courting couple, stricter than we were permitted in India. Have you eaten or made plans for the afternoon yet?"

Mrs Musgrove could contain herself no longer. "Oh, we left soon after breakfast, and would be honored to dine with you!"

Fredrick barely paid attention to Louisa and Henrietta as he helped them out of the carriage, his eyes on the couple. He only broke from his trance when an achingly familiar hand slid into his, still extended. Anne stepped out, her expression somewhere between happy and nostalgic. "I am glad for them, to have found each other after such a separation."

Was it too much to hope that Anne regretted their broken engagement, even after his spiteful, even boorish, behaviour toward her? Could there be hope for a second chance for them? Perhaps Lyme would give him the chance to find out.

Then Anne's hand was gone from his, and Phoebe was introducing her to the Earl as her very dear friend, before introducing the Musgroves as friends and nearest neighbors of her hosts, the Crofts. It was a subtle distinction, but Wentworth doubted that Anne had been given so much notice in years,

At Lyme, Anne came to life in the sea air and the way she gazed at the horizon with an expression of wonder, transforming her into something much more like the young woman Fredrick had first falled in love with eight years ago.

Unfortunately, Wentworth was not the only one to notice. The Harvilles, who took to Anne readily, kept sending him knowing looks over tea. Benwick was bad enough – Anne was very much alike in character to Benwick's lost Fanny, but Wentworth was reasonably certain that Anne viewed him as no more than a potential friend in need of a compassionate ear and better reading material – but even random patrons of the Inn where they took rooms overnight and passers-by had observed it, and began approaching Wentworth in the hopes of gaining an introduction.

Fredrick was very pleased to be able to say that he had met none of them before in his life, and therefore could not be counted as a mutually-known third party.

Miss Weirbrook and Lord Berrington had fallen a little behind the party, on their evening walk down the Cobb, speaking softly together, and Fredrick found himself dividing his attention between them, Anne, and stopping Louisa from doing anything too daring and foolish.

A handsome gentleman doffed his hat to Anne, lingering longer than was proper for a respectful stranger, and Fredrick barely caught Louisa in time as she jumped from the lower stairs down to the Cobb. Miss Weirbrook increased her pace, coming to stand beside Anne and meet the fellow's almost-rude stare with her own direct gaze. The gentleman withstood it about as well as anyone else did – which was to say, not at all – and hastily withdrew, to Anne's apparent belief.

Fredrick's attention was abruptly drawn back to Louisa, who was scampering back up the stairs, with little caution for the slippery surface, higher than could be safe. He raced to stop her before she could jump. "Louisa, don't be a fool!"

Time seemed to slow.

Anne and Miss Weirbrook placed firm hands on Louisa's shoulders, preventing her from jumping from her chosen, ill-advised height. Louisa pulled away, stumbling back against the wall and struggling to keep her footing. In doing so, she bumped against Anne, who was far less steady on the sea-slick steps. Miss Weirbrook reached out to catch her friend, but too late.

With a sickening crack, audible even over the roar of the waves, two bodies lay motionless on the Cobb.

Anthony Linwood had been a leader of men for several years, more than once where losing his head or freezing would have meant death, for him or his men. Time slowed, then snapped back into cold clarity. Phoebe and her friend were injured, and the rest of the ladies were in hysterics, while Mr Musgrove and Captain Wentworth stood frozen in horror.

A sudden cry split the air, breaking the frozen tableu. "Anne! Oh, God! Anne!"

Captain Wentworth rushed to the fallen women's side, and Anthony shook himself out of his paralysis as Mrs Musgrove swooned and the Miss Musgroves screamed. Names, the younger Captain was Benwick, and Phoebe had said that they had an invitation to stay with a family called Harville. Personal emotion was shoved aside, to be dwelled upon later. "Benwick, find a doctor, and tell them to bring stretchers! Cost is of no object! Miss Musgrove, return to the Harville's and alert them of what has happened!"

A family home would be better to recover in than a noisy Inn or crowded hospital, at least until they could be moved without causing further damage. Head injuries could be a trifle, or they could be life-threatening. As long as Phoebe woke up, Anthony swore that every other obstacle that threatened to keep them apart would be overcome. Scandal, his family... it would matter not at all. Anything, as long as she woke.

Anthony's family might not listen to him, but today's companions did. He carefully avoided looking directly at Phoebe - still and splayed like a broken rag-doll on the stone - as he placed a hand on Captain Wentworth's shoulder as he knelt at Miss Elliot's side, forcing back his own fears. "She breaths, and a doctor is coming. It is not too late."

He pointedly did not think of the mess Wentworth had created for himself. When Miss LoWentworth might be forced by honour to marry the daughter of whichever family shouted loudest, to avoid ruin, and the other lady would be subject to derision for disappointed hopes.

But that was a problem for when they knew if Anne and Phoebe would live or die. Footsteps approached at a run, audible even over a revived Mrs Mary Musgrove's wailing; strong young men bearing stretchers, a portly doctor puffing some distance behind them.

How had the day begun with such hope, only to fall to ruin?

He and Anne had actually managed a conversation, and the first stirrings of hope that he hadn't ruined things between them entirely. She had been as delighted by the sea as he had hoped, and perhaps would not mind making a home there. Louisa had been overjoyed at meeting more men of the Navy, giving rise to the chance that she would not be heartbroken when he failed to offer for her, leaving him free to devote his attention to Anne once more.

That, too, would have to wait until Anne opened her eyes.

Now, Wentworth was pacing, not entirely oblivious to the scowls aimed at him from Miss Louisa and Mr Charles Musgrove, while Miss Henrietta was quietly sobbing and Mrs Mary Musgrove complained at their lack of care, as it was her sister who was injured.

Captain Benwick was reading to the children, in order to keep them quiet and entertained, while Mrs Harville was upstairs with the doctor. Mrs Harville had been the daughter of a Naval Surgeon, and spending much of her life prior to her marriage as his sickroom assistant on one ship or another, and might have become a nurse if not for marriage and motherhood. Harville, prior to his medical discharge, would have been happy to have his wife as Ship's Surgeon, had women been allowed to apprentice for such professions.

It was strange, how the mind wandered, as if seeking any way to avoid thinking of Anne, and the image that was seared into Fredrick's brain, of her lying still and cold on the stones of the Cobb.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the Doctor finally emerged. "Miss Weirbrook has a fractured wrist, and Miss Elliot a sprained ankle, in addition to their head injuries. I have seen patients recover from far worse, but that does not mean that there is not cause for concern. Rest will bring healing, but it is vital that they are not moved un-necessarily. I strongly recommend that they remain here, and avoid any kind of travel for at least a month entire."

The Doctor departed, with a generous gift from Anthony besides, and an uneasy silence settled on the house, broken by Mr Musgrove rising to his feet, staring pointedly at Fredrick.

"By which the good Doctor means," Lord Berrington cut in with as much of the full weight of his title and standing as he could muster in his own agitated state, "If you intend to argue, do it elsewhere. Miss Elliot and Ph… Miss Weirbrook require quiet and rest, not angry shouting."

Mr Musgrove stepped outside even more pointedly, Leaving Fredrick with no choice but to follow reluctantly. After a short hesitation, Captain Benwick followed them, calling back inside the cottage. "I'll ferry them a distance down the beach, and see that they don't come to blows."

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A/N: If you want to read more of my JAFF, or my other published works, you can find the links on my profile.

In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you think.

Thanks

Nat