The date today, as I begin writing this, is the 14th of May. I began writing the following story several months ago when an idea came to me and I just couldn't let it pass. I've refrained from posting however, till its finished (or near enough) and I hope this story is better for it.

A word of warning however. This story is going to be different from my others. It'll be darker and focus on slightly more adult themes. Its not smut, but its not all cotton candy and fluff either (I love the edible kind of fluff! So difficult to get over here.)

Its also AU, but still in the same period, with the same characters (most of them) and, hopefully, the same ending. Anne and Frederick where still engaged back in '06 and they do meet again. Just not how Austen imagined it.

As always any input you have would be gratefully received, especially for this piece. I'm looking for what you like and don't like, what you'd like to see more off and what I can chuck.

September 1814 - Bath

The rain was pounding down on the streets as the carriage entered the town. The cobbled streets awash with water and other detritus. The horses made good going though, and the roads where quieter than they could have been, given the time of day. It was late into the evening, a time when most of the notable inhabitants of Bath where already out at their dinners and concerts.

The carriage pulled to a stop outside 28 Gay Street just as the rain petered off, and a footman from the house hurried out to meet it. He opened the door to the vehicle and stood back, allowing the man from within to emerge into the light drizzle that continued to fall from the sky.

Captain Frederick Wentworth, who had been travelling all day from Plymouth to Bath, with only the minimal amount of stops allowed on the journey for the changing of the horses, was grateful for the opportunity to finally stretch his legs.

He stood on the paved side walk as several more footmen appeared from the house and began to unload the carriage, its driver eager to be off to find an inn for the night and stabling for his horses. He paid the man an extra coin from his purse for getting him there in one piece and in good time.

"Frederick!"

His sisters cry echoed down the street as Sophia Croft hurried from the house and right at him. It had been years since either of the them had set eyes on the other and Frederick was just as glad to see her as she was him. "Sophy," he said as she landed in his arms.

Admiral Croft stood back in the doorway of the house and allowed the siblings a chance to reacquaint before he stepped forward and received his brother in law into their home.

The house the Croft's had taken was a moderately sized place in a well known area of Bath, not too far away from the centre of Bath and its amusements. It consisted of three storeys, stretched three windows across and had small steps leading up to the doorway. It was a well proportioned size for the Crofts, and would afford them with a temporary home till they decided whether or not to settle finally in the town.

"Frederick, you must be exhausted, do come inside," Sophia said as she ushered him in, telling him that the servants would take care of his belongings and that they would see to anything else that needed done.

The interior of the house was warm and homely; the main feature of the entrance foyer being the spiral staircase that adorned it. The wooden surface gleamed in the low candle light. Frederick sent an enquiring glance at his sister.

"I liked it," she said. "There is nothing wrong with having a little bit of elegance when one has been living with the basics for the last ten years or so."

"And who was I, to deny your sister a little bit of elegance?" the Admiral remarked.

Though not a luxury house in the best area of Bath, the house that the Crofts had was comfortable and suited them. Each room was filled with little bits and pieces that they had picked up their travels, and they where now able to display.

The room that they had designated for Frederick, had obviously been decorated with him in mind. Deep, navy blues made up the bed and its hangings while the furnishings where all deep mahogany wood. Pictures of tall ships being buffeted about on the waves where hung on the walls alongside intricate tapestries from far off lands.

Frederick dropped off his travelling bag in the room and quickly changed, making his way back down the stairs for a late dinner and some conversation. The talk centred round Frederick's last command and the Crofts trip earlier in the year to visit Edward and his new wife in Shropshire.

It was later, when Sophy was regaling him with stories about acquaintances they had in the area, that he learnt that Admiral Marshall had a house in town and was currently settled there for the winter. The two had become firm friends after the incident at St Domingo and had remained so ever since.

The Admiral came from old money; the elder and less obedient son, he had ran away from his boarding school at the age of sixteen and jumped aboard the first vessel he encountered. It had happened to be a Navy ship and it was the beginning of a remarkable career.

Having been practically disowned when he ran away, Marshall had not heard from his family for many years. He never travelled to London, or any of the other fashionable places they might have been and never wrote. Given the freedom he married for love rather than advancement, choosing a wife of gentle and caring demeanour, who loved him for who he was rather than for how much money he had. It was not until after they had married that he spoke to her about his roots. It was at her prodding that he penned his first note of communication since a hastily scribbled note left on a bedside cabinet many years previous.

When word was not heard back for many months, he thought little of it. It was not until nearly a year to the day that a reply was had. Not from a family member, but from the families lawyer. It contained the information he had suspected. His father had passed several years previous and in his absence the title had gone to his younger, more obliging, brother.

It was the mans unfortunate duty of having to inform Marshall of the passing of his younger brother as well. The note also contained a plea for him to return home for they had been searching for him. His brother, though married, had left no male heir and the whole estate now belonged to him.

It had not been a instant decision to return to claim his place, but a long thought out one. His wife was happy to go along with what ever he decided, content with the life they had but willing to uproot should he want to. In the end they made the decision based not upon themselves, but to give their children a better chance in life.

The move had not been immediate. They had dispatched a letter back to the lawyer detailing their intention to return, but it was not done in haste. They waited till the seas had calmed and made the journey then, not wanting to risk the life of their young family. There was a flurry of activity on their arrival, one that lasted for many weeks and months after, and Frederick had heard little from his friend since his departure from --------. He was glad that he was within walking distance now and hoped that the chance would come when they would shortly be reacquainted with one another.

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His wish came sooner than he anticipated, for it was when he was out the next morning when, turning a corner and colliding solidly with another body, he discovered it to be his friend. The shock upon the Admirals face was likely mirrored upon his own.

"Wentworth!"

"Admiral, I had heard you where in residence but I must admit that I did not expect to see you so soon and on a street corner no less," Frederick said as he accepted the other mans out stretched hand.

"Admiral," Marshall scoffed. "I demand you call me Marshall, Frederick, or I shall cut you most violently on this street that you shall find yourself the social outcast of Bath. I hold quite a bit of weight here you know."

Frederick shook his head, his friend was as he remembered him. Unwilling to put his situation in life, or his position in the Navy, above that of his true friends and people he respected. "What are you doing in Bath?"

"My sister and the Admiral have taken a house for the winter, I am currently staying with them."

"Ah, and how is Old Croft? And your sister?"

"They are well and settling themselves into life on dry land."

"Not an easy task, my friend," Marshall said to him, slapping him on the shoulder. "I suspect you shall be quitting terra firma as soon as another ship becomes available."

"Maybe not just yet," Frederick replied.

Marshall looked at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "In all my years, Frederick, I have never known you to be coy about your return to the sea. What are you planning?"

Frederick merely smiled and refused to answer, wanting to keep some things to himself for the time being.

"Well," Marshall said, clapping his hands together. "Are you free this morning? I am about to head home and I know that Philippa would love to have you for lunch, and dinner as well, if she can convince you to stay."

"I am at your disposal then," Frederick said. Smiling as his friend led him away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets of Bath and away to the Admiral's private residence in one of the most fashionable areas of Bath.

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Frederick took a seat in the front room whilst he waited on Marshall to finish the work he had with his steward. The room that he was sitting in was of a nice proportion; neither too large nor too small. It was decorated fashionably but tastefully with little reminders of the families travels dotted around the place. A tapestry on the wall, an ornament on the mantle.

The doorbell rang as he sat waiting and the footman admitted in a young woman into the hall. They had a short conversation with one another before he departed, leaving her in the large entrance way to await whoever it was she was here to see.

She was unremarkable, but she had his immediate attention.

It was not the colour of her dress, a pale ugly grey, nor her slight, bordering on the edge of unhealthy, stature that drew and held his attention, but they way in which she moved and held herself, the way in which her eyes took her surroundings. It was a characteristic he had thought he had purged from his mind, one that he no longer thought of, saving in his darkest times. Times that usually ended in the bottom of a bottle.

Her eyes travelled around the area she was in, taking in the numerous articles that adorned the walls. She seemed at ease and it was not until her eyes fell on him, and they locked gazes, that her own widened in shock and she visibly took a step backwards as he continued to stare, finding himself rising slowly from where he sat.

"Anne!"