A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews 'Would I' has gotten so far. Yes I am back to writing Frederick and Anne, I can't stop myself, and have three stories on the go right now. Hopefully these will be uploaded soon. For now back to Kellynch...

Chapter Seven

The bumps and jerks of Lady Russel's carriage, did nothing to loosen the knots in Anne's stomach. She was trying her upmost to keep any trace of her distress a secret from her God Mother – not only would the woman be displeased at his return, Anne doubted Lady Russel would believe she had been unaware. Hadn't she just asked her if he had returned? And Anne had denied it. It was the truth when she spoke the words. But he had been there earlier, and he had returned. But why? To see his brother was of course the obvious answer, but Anne couldn't help but remember his big hands clasping her shawl as if he daren't let it go. He had been shocked to see her there, was that why he had not spoken? She thought back on her own words, she had greeted him. Hadn't she?

She had said the words in her mind "How do you do Captain Wentworth?" But had they actually left her lips? It would account for his sudden departure. Another misunderstanding. Would they ever be rid of them? She looked across at her God Mother, but she was looking out of the window, her mouth tight, her jaw set. She was unhappy at Anne's choices, she knew it would cause embarrassment and some awkwardness between the neighbouring families. But the Musgroves' were good people, and kind, and Anne could not believe they would hold it against her. The carriage slowed and she realised with a heavy heart she was home.

She had barely removed her bonnet and gloves, when she was being led into the parlour with her father and Elizabeth. Lady Russel swiftly behind her. "Well?" her father stood by the fire admiring his reflection in the large looking glass above.

Anne opened her mouth to tell him what had happened when Lady Russel spoke. "Sir Walter, perhaps we could have a word, privately?"

Sir Walter was never a patient man, he shook his head. "Is there to be a wedding or not?"

"Not" Anne answered. All eyes were immediately fixed on her.

"You mean Musgrove did not offer?" exclaimed her father.

"He did ask, I refused." Anne faced them head on, hiding her fear. It would not do for them to think she could waiver in her decision. She would not.

Lady Russel's gaze dropped. Elizabeth looked furious and her father shocked. He came towards her. "You refused? Why? Why Anne? You are no longer a slip of a girl, you do nothing to help yourself, your dress and hair, and complexion are all …" he trailed off unable to think of a word that would not outright insult his daughter. "You will be lucky to ever gain another's affection, or warrant another offer."

So I have been told, Anne said to herself quietly. "I am not sure I want another offer." she said aloud.

"So you mean to remain here, a constant burden on me."

Anne had not thought of it that way, but she would not back down.

Elizabeth who had for so far remained silent, stood. "You are so selfish Anne."

"Selfish?" Anne cried in disbelief. "Surely selfish would have been to marry him for the sake of it. I do not love Charles Musgrove. It would have been unfair on him. If you are all so concerned with my upkeep, then I would be happy to try and find a profession that allows me to pay my way."

Lady Russel and her father turned white.

"Profession …"

"An Elliott daughter … paid work."

"And what about Mr Elliot?" asked Elizabeth.

"What does our cousin have to do with this?" Anne asked perplexed.

"It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to visit. A family wedding. Now he may never have the excuse to come to Kellynch." Elizabeth pouted.

Anne did not want to make matters between them worse by asking the obvious – why was it, if he was so smitten with Elizabeth, did he need an excuse to call at all? "Where is Mary?" she asked in an attempt at changing the subject.

"She is upstairs indisposed. She at least will be glad to hear the news." Elizabeth smirked. "She has been moping around ever since she learned of Charles' intention to propose."

Anne smiled to herself, she had been certain there was something there, for Mary at least, and Charles too, if he would just allow himself to look. He deserved a second chance at happiness. Everyone did. She thought of Frederick. She needed to see him. But she first had to endure another hour of questions and demands on her time. When at last they were done with her, and topics had moved on to more important things like what colour they should redecorate the formal dining room, she was able to make her excuse and escape. She went upstairs, keen to at least make one person more at ease.

She knocked on her sister's door and hearing her wail of 'come in' she entered. Mary was strewn out across her bed, still in her night clothes, an arm flung across her face dramatically. Anne stifled a laugh at her youthful stupidity. At just seventeen fresh from school, she had no notion of true devastation and upset or pain of a broken heart. Anne was glad for her. Mary opened one eye. "Oh it is you. I suppose you are here to share your happy news. Your fortune at a match well made."

"Not yet."

Mary sat up. "Do you mean he did not offer?"

Anne controlled the urge to roll her eyes at everyone's presumptions of her and Charles. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "He did. But I refused."

"You, you, refused? Why?"

"We should not suit. I see Charles only as a friend, like a brother. I think deep down he knows that."

"So you are not going to marry Charles."

"No." Anne confirmed. Mary smiled brightly and Anne could not help but smile back. "That's better." She stroked her sister's cheeks. "You know I always cheer you. Come along, get dressed and out of this room."

Mary nodded.

A short while later, Anne found herself out of doors once more. She knew where she had to go and if she didn't do it as soon as possible, she would be too afraid.

After a quick luncheon where neither brother had had the inclination to converse, Frederick decided he needed fresh air. The small cottage once so homely and welcoming, stifled him, as did his brothers constant worrying looks. He abandoned his horse, not only did it deserve a rest, but he fancied himself a walk. It had been an age since he had walked the once so familiar paths around Monkford and Kellynch.

He pondered going further, maybe all the way up to Uppercross. See this man Musgrove for himself, and judge what sort of man he was. He could introduce himself as Edward's brother, get to know the family – he had a gift like that. And what had Edward said that morning? Another son of theirs – Richard- was a little wild, and they were considering a navy career for him. He would be able to offer advice. What would Anne think then? The man she once agreed to marry associating with her current husband to be.

He was that lost in his own musings he almost missed the figure coming towards him across the meadow. The sun bouncing off her dark chocolate curls escaping from her bonnet, her pale green dress billowing behind her. That damn shawl loosely draped over her shoulder more out of habit he thought than need. Although it was nearing the end of September, the days were still warm. Her eyes were down cast concentrating on the rough terrain and watching her footing, she hadn't seen him.

He glanced around him, it was an open field; there was nowhere to run or hide. But then, why should he? He had nothing to hide after all – he had done nothing wrong. Let her see him, let her come, let him hear whatever it was she should say – it mattered not to him. He told himself.

Anne was growing tired. She considered herself a good walker but having made this journey twice already that day, she felt the pull on her joints and muscles. Her shawl caught a bramble yet again and she was forced to stop and untangle it save it should rip. As she did, she happened to catch the sight of a man coming towards her, she had only a moment to ready herself before he was in front of her.

"Allow me." He bent forward and easily unhooked her shawl.

"Thank you Captain Wentworth." she said softly.

Hearing her silken tone utter his name so warmly, did something to him inside. He could feel his defences crumbling. He cleared his throat. "Off to see my brother again?"

"No." she said quickly.

He looked over his shoulder in the direction where she was heading. It had been plain to him where she was going.

"That is... I am headed to Monkford… but not to see Mr Wentworth." Anne corrected.

He looked at her puzzled, wondering who else she would know in the sleepy village. She could have made new friends he supposed. When it finally dawned on him who she was going to visit, his heart sped up and he swallowed hard. "You were going to see me?"