Claire, I have added back in the paragraph breaks that FF ate. Thanks for letting me know.

It took several minutes before Anne was able to read Frederick's letter. First she allowed herself a little cry and then was able to calm her eyes at least sufficiently enough to read.

Dearest Anne,

If I still have the good fortune to be privileged to address you by that name I am blessed indeed. Please forgive me my anger, my quickness in leaving from my stay with my brother and not being sensible enough to at least have another conversation with you to sort out plans for a future when I should be better situated.

My heart was pierced, wounded, almost broken except that I knew there might be some slim chance for a future between us, but I was too cowardly to seek you out after my good fortune and promotion and beg you to renew our previous understanding. You see, I could not but fear I might find you married to another, mother to the children that ought to have been ours or if while yet single (how other men, men more worthy of securing the approval of your father and godmother could not but secure your hand in the interval while I was on the Asp I hardly knew and when Edward had tidings of you my eyes read such information until the words were burned into my soul) unwilling to be married to me. I should have sought you out, for a man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to one such as you. He ought not; he does not.

I was weak when I should have been decisive. I was irresolute when I should have singlemindedly pursued my heart's desire. I was resentful (of all the men who might obtain you hand when I would not, I could never doubt that you would be loved and sought by others), when I should have taken action. I was smarting under feelings year after year thinking of you as one who had yielded, who had given me up, who had been influenced by any one rather than by me. I meant to forget you if I could not have you, but have utterly failed in such attempt. But I have never been inconstant. You pierce my soul.

It is a period indeed that we have been a part and I am to blame for its extension when we may have earlier been united. Please forgive my weakness that required something further of assurance that your tender feelings were not lost forever.

Undeserved as it has been, yet I received just that when I learned via a letter from Mr. Robinson to my brother, brought to me by my dear sister, that you have with the steadiness of principle and the resolution of a collected mind sought to prepare yourself for the role in my life that I blithly suggested (though I still believe it to be a good one for the Anne I knew, so gentle and kind, with such compassion for her fellow man). When I learned such evidence of your continuing devotion and his assurance that it was done in hopes of me, you can hardly understand how that pierced me and then the added agony that I could not in that very moment sail for England. I know my duty well indeed but in those first moments I would have given up my command, my honor, my fortune, all that I have to be in your presence immediately though of course I recollected that I could not truly do so as the vision we had for our future depended upon my career. Thus while I desire nothing more than to see you right now, to utter the words you deserve to hear straight from my lips, I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach.

My dear sister Sophia sacrifices much in being obliged to leave Admiral Croft's company for a period as yet undetermined to seek you out on my behalf. I do not deserve such devotion, such love, but I had not any will to refuse her offer that might yet unite us.

Oh my dearest Anne, I, too, have planned for our future. Gone forever are the habits which allowed for me not to have much in the way of remaining funds when I stayed with Edward. I have saved every farthing I rationally could (though of course I spent adequately to keep my food proper for my health, to equip myself and to take care of my crew), so that I might have the means to support you in the manner you deserve should I someday gain your hand though I have occasionally indulged myself in acquiring items on my travels which I believed you would please your eye in the hope that I yet might one day give them to you.

Even now having received reassurance from a fairly recent and reliable source, I doubt and fear. I am half agony and half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings which you once bore for me are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own then when you almost broke it. I have loved none but you, have never seen your equal or known one with the perfect excellence of your mind. Weak, resentful and undeserving I have been, but never inconstant.

You alone have caused my sister to travel to you with whichever of her friends she enlisted in this endeavor. While I wait to see if her efforts will bear fruit or break my heart in two, for you alone I continue to think and plan.

What good would it be if I could gain each prize, promotion and accolade in the navy if I shall not have you? I can hardly write. I must send this letter off in my sister's most capable hands, knowing it will be faithfully and expeditiously delivered, yet still uncertain of my fate.

I beg of you, relieve this man's sufferings and as I ask again, dearest Anne, please become my wife. If you accept I will acede to any arrangements you deem best. I will wait until I can properly be ashore in England and court you as you deserve and arrange the finest clothes for our wedding with a breakfast to follow fit for a queen if that is your desire.

But I hope, as undeserving as I am, that you might be willing to seek the soonest union that may be. My sister will know how best to arrange the method by which we may be lawfully joined together based on where I am expected to be. Admiral Croft can certainly obtain such intelligence and Sophia or her friend will get you where you need to be. A single trunk provisioned as Sophy advises will best travel for such purposes and I cannot say what future trials may await you on such an unknown journey or later aboard my ship.

I think I ask too much of you and should crumple this missive and only beg you to wait for my return, rather than seek to persuade you to yield not to safety but to risk, to turn your back on any duty you might owe your father or godmother, but I confess I am a selfish creature and desire you at my side so we may become man and wife as soon as may be. I shall be exquisitely happy in our rapid reunion should it come to pass.

Please, my dearest Anne, say you will once more be mine as I am forever yours and follow where my sister shall take you.

All my love,

Frederick