Helloooo! The end of this chapter is *spicy*. You have been warned!

...

It had been an enjoyable but incredibly long day and Frederick groaned contentedly as he propped his stockinged feet upon the foot stool, sipping deeply at his cup of tea. The Admiral had retired for the evening but he and Sophie were taking advantage of the evening at home and were settling in for a long overdue tête-a-tete.

"Well someone has had a big day," said Sophie, eyeing her brother over the rim of her own cup.

"It was big," he replied, head tipped back and eyes closed. "I'm sure you do not want the details of how many grouse were bagged and so on but I must say it was highly successful. Charles Musgrove may not have to work for his dinner but he has certainly made a career out of hunting. That man has more knowledge of the various aspects relating to the sport than anyone has a right to know." Frederick had first hand experience of the extent of Charles Musgrove's knowledge of hunting. It had been Uppercross for him almost every morning since that first trip and many of those out hunting or riding.

"That shows a pleasing character, I cannot abide idleness and with his privileges and at his time of life he could certainly become prone to such. And does Mrs Musgrove hunt as well?"

Wondering at such a question, Frederick looked at Sophie out the corner of his eye. Seeing the smirk on her face he took it for the jest it was.

"Whilst I can imagine you taking it upon yourself to go hunting with your husband, Mrs Musgrove does not strike me as having a similar character. Though I suspect perhaps that she is a great source of inspiration when it comes to Musgrove perfecting his hunting game. You will not hear me repeat that, not even to the Admiral."

"And just so! A very ungentlemanly comment, Frederick. For shame!" Sophie chuckled and then sighed. "You know in general I am happy to leave off inspecting the characters of my acquaintance. After all, without the quirks and idiosyncrasies of human nature, life would be very boring indeed. And who am I to judge? I certainly know myself to be a curiosity to other women, what with the paths my life has taken. But my word that woman is a wonder! I cannot help but shake my head or shrug my shoulders after not more than 5 minutes in conversation with her."

"Indeed. Thankfully I do not spend much time in company with her; we often meet at Uppercross Hall before we begin our day and manage to avoid the cottage altogether."

"Oh, really?" Sophie replied, dragging out the question with an inquiring tone. "And I suppose there are no other inducements for meeting at Uppercross Hall as opposed to the cottage?"

"Certainly the cooking. The seed cakes there are delicious."

Frederick looked across at his sister in time to intercept the cushion she threw in his direction. Laughing, he propped it behind his head and looked at her expectantly.

"You have been to visit a considerable amount of times dearest. While I know the Admiral and I are often out of a morning and so naturally you have wanted for entertainment, we had wondered what you were about, going so often. We had hoped…"Sophie continued, gesturing enigmatically.

"Ah, we come to the point then. Let me anticipate you here, sister. Yes I intend to marry, be it a foolish match or not. After all, now is as good a time as any. And I am not so nice that my requirements are very high."

"Oh yes? Why I am surprised you have any requirements at all, given you are only a captain in the Royal Navy and have been handsomely rewarded for your victories. Pray tell, what do you seek in a wife?" Sophie teased.

"Well a maiden, not too young or old, of course. A little beauty, not too much! Certainly some compliments for the Navy and a few smiles and I shall be done." Frederick laughed and sitting up in his chair, held his hand to his heart. "After all, I am only a humble sailor and not used to the society of delicate ladies."

"Oh Frederick, do be serious! Have you even thought this through?" Laughed Sophie in reply.

Adopting a more serious tone, Frederick continued, "In truth, I have thought on it a good deal more than most men in my situation! I think that I would be content if my wife were to be sweet in manner and possessed of a strong mind. Intelligent and firm in her convictions. That is a lady I could admire."

"Well thankfully there a three very lovely ladies at Uppercross who answer these requirements, so it should not take you long to come to the point."

"Three? There are two Musgrove sisters who are of marriageable age."

"Why yes, but there is Miss Elliot too. You must not discount Miss Elliot. She certainly meets your requirements and is significantly more well informed than either of the Musgrove ladies."

………………………………….

Frederick could not help wholeheartedly disagreeing with his sister and was proud of the calm but clear manner in which he had been able to discourage her interest in that direction. Good lord, he'd nearly lost his composure and had to draw on all of his reserve to appear impassively uninterested.

He had longed to say that he did not consider allowing one's family to treat one as a doormat as sweetness of manner, but he refrained. He longed to reveal the true extent of her lack of conviction to Sophie, it was on the very tip of his tongue. But something gave him pause.

Laying in bed and waiting for sleep to come, he was able to think a little more clearly on the matter. While he was still angry at Anne Elliot and had no intention of ever showing her any interest ever again, he could not bring himself to defame her character. If his sister liked Miss Elliot then that could only be for the better; perhaps it would do Anne Elliot good to have the influence of someone as adventurous and strong minded as his sister influencing her.

As he drifted off to sleep, he mulled over the women of his current acquaintance, weighing the traits of each as a potential bride.

…………………………………………………………..

Delicate hands smoothed their way along his torso and across his chest. He took a shuddering breath as electricity chased the path of her fingers, weaving along his neck and carding their way through the hair at the back of his head. He pulled her close and brought his head down to meet her lips. Their kiss was earnest and increased in strength and passion as they both sought to remove any space between them.

His hands roved along her shoulders and down her arms, brushing the delicate edges of her breasts. A sharp intake of breath, followed by a sudden increase of fervour on her part told him that it had been welcome and so he continued up and down, brushing more of her breasts with every pass until he had begun to feel the peak of her nipples. He increased his pressure, eliciting a breathy moan from his companion as she arched her neck in pleasure. He took advantage of the opportunity, trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

"Frederick, please," she moaned, sending a jolt of desire through his body.

"What is it, my dear. Tell me what you need," he murmured, continuing his ministrations.

"I don't know, just more. I need more," she panted. Kneeling, he lowered the edge of her dress below the swell of her breasts, tending to one with his mouth as he kneaded the other. Alternating between sucking and rolling his tongue around the rosy bud, he used his free hand to find the hem of her gown and tracing the back of her calf explored the contours of her leg. They stayed in this manner for some time, and Frederick felt his own need harden with each of the sounds he drew from her mouth.

Her soft hands took hold his face and drew him up to her lips for a gentler kiss. "Take me to bed, husband."

It was all the encouragement he needed, and grasping her below her buttocks, he lifted her to him and pressed her to his body. He wanted her to feel how much he wanted her, the desire she aroused in him. His heart raced in anticipation for what was to come.

Looking for her reaction to his movements, he could see the flush of her skin that began at her heaving chest and travelled up her face. Her lips parted with desire were plump and rosy, evidence of passion they had shared. He knew without a doubt that in this moment she was more enticing than she had ever been and he could not wait to have her.

But something was wrong. Off. He could not put his finger on it. Had she called him Husband? He had barely begun thinking of finding a bride, he hadn't had time to marry her. He looked into her eyes, to ask the question, and was horrified. Staring down at him was the delicate face of Anne Elliot.

Frederick woke up with a start. Heaving great breaths, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. It had been a dream. A very good dream, until he'd realised his passions had been aroused by Anne Elliot. Groaning, he fell back on his pillows. He was disgusted with himself. Not because of the what, after all he was a man, but the who. Really? Anne Elliot? He scolded himself. He could feel the hardness of his arousal still present but he would not do anything with it as punishment to his traitorous brain. He lay still, willing it away as he pictured anything he could to eliminate the last vestiges of his arousal.