Frederick wanted to call on Anne immediately the next morning but had a prior engagement to hunt with Charles Musgrove. The men always left the cottage early, before Anne and Mary came downstairs, as the best time to find pheasants was when they came out of deep cover in search of food. As they walked through Mr. Musgrove's woods, Frederick inquired after Anne.

"She mentioned a lingering headache last night and said she would miss tonight's dinner, but I am sure she will be well enough to attend. She has a great deal of fortitude and never stays ill for long," Charles replied. He did not know the details of Anne's ordeal yesterday. Frederick's note had been discreet, saying only that she felt unwell.

"I am very glad to hear it. I must call on her when we are done."

The hunting was unusually plentiful which made Charles eager to stay out longer, while Frederick was impatient and distracted. At one point Charles asked him, "Is something the matter with your gun? Your aim is poorer than usual."

When they finally walked back to the cottage with eight brace of pheasants, all but one shot by Charles, Frederick repeated his wish to call on Anne.

"I am sure she is awake by now," Charles said.

Not only was Anne awake, but she had gone out for a walk and Mary could provide no further details.

"No, I have no idea what direction she went," Mary said in response to Frederick's inquiry. "No, I do not know where her favourite spots are. I do not know what time she left, only that it was before I came downstairs. I am her sister, not her nursery-maid."

Charles was more helpful than his wife and mentioned two places where Anne might have gone: a picturesque hill at the western edge of Mr. Musgrove's estate, or a southern field of stunning red campion flowers still in bloom. Frederick considered his next steps. He could wait near the cottage until Anne returned, whenever that might be, or he could look for her and risk picking the wrong direction, causing an even longer delay. Not one for inaction, he decided on the latter. Neither the hill nor field seemed more likely to him than the other, so he made a choice and started walking.

~~OOO~~

About two miles away, Anne sat at the top of a small hill surveying the colourful expanse of fields below. Towards the right lay Mr. Musgrove's apple orchards, the trees stripped of their fruit but with green leaves still clinging to the branches. On the left, Winthrop's bare brown fields contained just-planted winter barley, while its hazel trees lining the hedgerows burst forth with golden coloured leaves. Despite the beautiful prospect, Anne never met anyone else here, which was perfect; fresh air and solitude were what she desired today, and she had walked this far to avoid any chance of bumping into Frederick while he was with Charles.

Physically, she was almost fully recovered from yesterday's events, but her dignity was another matter. As if being intoxicated for the first time in her seven-and-twenty years was not bad enough, she had also humiliated herself by telling Frederick she loved him. That he did not return her affection was not surprising, as he had done nothing to show an interest in her and in fact had avoided her as much as possible. Anne only wished the alcohol had not emboldened her to the point of flouting propriety. There was a difference between implicitly knowing his feelings and being told them outright. The pain of his rejection was a new sensation for her and it stung deeply.

As she sat on the grass feeling the gentle autumn breeze on her face, she mused over the social rules of courtship. As a woman, her role was limited. She could give a man subtle clues such as a delighted smile, eager conversation or the press of her hand, but all overt advances were his domain. This afforded her an uncommon advantage which she had not appreciated until yesterday. If a man was not interested, a woman only experienced a smile unreturned or a conversation politely cut short. Men, on the other hand, faced a much greater risk: they might pour out their hearts and propose to a woman, only to be refused — or worse, accepted and then refused, as she had done to Frederick.

My heart may be hurting, but how much more he suffered when I broke our engagement!

She had been atop the quiet hill for over an hour when she thought she heard the faint sound of footsteps crunching on fallen leaves. Turning towards the noise, she saw a shadow walking through the trees on Mr. Musgrove's grounds. A gardener? She stood up to see better. No, it was a gentleman. She could not tell much other than he wore a great coat the same colour as… he passed the trees and stepped out onto an open area, and she instantly recognised Frederick. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away. She tried to remain calm by reasoning with herself. He was taking his own solitary walk. Surely he would see her on the hill and strike a different path; he must, for she was not ready to face him yet and why would he want to meet her? Yet with each succeeding step, he never changed direction. It would be uncivil to flee, so she stayed and fretted as the distance between them grew shorter and shorter.

~~OOO~~

As Frederick strode up the hill, he saw Anne nervously walking back and forth, looking as though she were contemplating an escape. He wondered exactly how much she remembered — was she simply embarrassed for getting drunk or did she remember everything? She was not used to drinking alcohol and he had seen men go so far beyond their limit that they had no recollection of hours gone by.

"Good morning, Anne," he said with a bow.

She was already flushed and now looked surprised and flustered as she curtsied. "Good morning."

That she had not corrected his deliberate use of her Christian name encouraged him.

"How are you feeling today?"

She flushed further. "I am much better, thank you."

"Do you… do you remember what happened yesterday?" Now she was redder than he had ever seen her before. She turned away and he felt terrible for embarrassing her. "Forgive me, it was ungentlemanly of me to ask."

"No, no. Do not apologise. I ought to feel a small portion of the pain and mortification I caused you."

"You did not injure me."

She looked down at her hands and twisted her fingers as she spoke. "Not yesterday. Eight years ago. I hurt you exceedingly when I broke our engagement. Till yesterday, I did not truly appreciate how it feels to lay your heart out in the open, only to have it spurned… I understand now why you are indifferent to me."

Frederick caught the implication of her words — she had meant what she said yesterday. His movements were now decided. He took her trembling hands and held them fast.

"You are mistaken. I am not indifferent to you at all. I know it appeared that way three weeks ago, or last week even, but I did not know myself then. I have only just realised my true feelings."

"But when I asked you to stay…"

"I wanted to stay, more than anything, but I doubted the truth of your words. I feared it was only the alcohol talking. Anne, dearest Anne." He brought a hand to her cheek and turned her face to his. He saw the pain and doubt in her eyes. "I have loved none but you. Forgive me for not telling you yesterday. Forgive me for the past eight years. I want to stay with you — every day, for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

~~OOO~~

The bells of Kellynch church rang out clear and loud on a Monday morning in November, the melodious brass tones announcing a newly married couple.

"Hurry, Joe. We've not a moment to lose," Samuel said.

"Lord! This is heavy," Joe replied as he helped Samuel move an enormous cake laden with dried fruit and brandy to the sideboard.

Today was Frederick and Anne's wedding day, and Admiral Croft had insisted on hosting the wedding breakfast. He charged Samuel and Joe with getting the drawing room and saloon ready, which the men did enthusiastically. Having heard that Anne came to their defense after she got drunk, they credited her for their continued employment and were determined that everything be perfect for such a fine and admirable lady. With the help of the other servants, the wood floors were scrubbed and dried; the carpets flogged until no speck of dust dared remain; the windows cleaned until they sparkled in the morning sun; and all metal objects polished to a high shine.

On two opposite walls of the saloon hung large, colourful rectangles covering Sir Walter's paintings and mirrors; to a landsman, they looked like a haphazard arrangement of painted cloths, twelve on one side and thirteen on the other, but in fact they were placed very deliberately. They resembled the signal flags that ships used to communicate with each other, except instead of hoisting one word at a time as a ship would do, Samuel and Joe had extra flags made to display the entire message at once. Since the two men could not agree on a phrase, one wall showed Samuel's "Wish you good voyage" while the other had Joe's "Much riches and luck".

At the sound of carriage wheels, the men quickly finished and Samuel hurried to the front door.

"Captain Wentworth, Mrs. Wentworth," he said with a salute.

The happy couple walked in, their faces radiant with joy and love. Behind them were Sir Walter and Anne's oldest sister, Elizabeth; the two of them had travelled from Bath for the occasion and, upon entering the connected rooms, looked appalled at the changes made in their absence. Anne's godmother, Lady Russell, came in next and surveyed the area with good humour and pleasure.

The guests enjoyed Duncan's delicious food — sweet buns, buttered toast, ham, sausages and eggs, along with tea, coffee and chocolate to drink. After an hour, Admiral Croft gathered his footmen by the pembroke table and directed them to pour out glasses of mead.

"Fill them up, fill them up. Not too much in this one, it is for the bride, ha ha. Pass them around now."

Once everyone had a glass in hand, Admiral Croft proposed a toast to the King.

"To the King!" The walls reverberated with the loud chorus of voices, as Admiral Croft had invited his servants to join the celebration and they being sailors loved a good toast and drink.

"And now," Admiral Croft said with a big smile, "let us drink to Captain and Mrs. Wentworth with three times three. Frederick and Anne — we wish you great joy. May your marriage be blessed with fair winds and flowing sheets all the days of your lives."

The glasses lifted again and Samuel and Joe's voices could be heard rising above the rest:

"To Captain and Mrs. Wentworth! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah!"

THE END

~~END OF STORY~~

Author's note: THANK YOU as always for the reviews!