Seperated

She could feel the floor shifting beneath her body. Laying bound and blindfolded on the floor, Annabelle had no idea where she was, or how long she had been there. She had left her uncle's manor house with her maid Jeanette to walk through the woods gathering herbs. They had been out of sight of the manor only a few moments when they were ambushed. The men had come from all directions, surrounding them, and preventing escape. She and Jeanette had tried to fight, but what are two women against ten men?

They had been easily overpowered and Annabelle had been blindfolded. She had no idea if they had taken Jeanette as well, or if they had killed or maimed her. She prayed that no harm had come to her companion.

A knock startled her out of her revelry. She jerked at the sound and heard the door squeak open. She heard footsteps behind her, and then a voice.

"Oh, now. They've got ye trussed up like to a pig for roastin'." It was a woman's voice, but it was certainly not Jeanette's. "An' here they tol' me they was goin' ta be real careful wi' ye." The woman began to untie Annabelles bindings. When they were undone, Annabelle stretched her sore muscles, then turned to look at the woman.

"Oh, my!" The woman laughed at her startled look. Annabelle had been expecting to see someone who was much older than the woman in front of her. What she saw was a woman who couldn't be any older than herself who looked exactly like her. It was as if she were looking into a mirror, but for the difference in clothing. Annabelle was silent, in shock.

"I tol' them they were nay to hurt ye, but I see nay wounds. Are ye all right?"

"Y-yes. I am terribly sore from being tied so long. Where are we?"

"Somewhere 'tween England and Greenland. Can ye nay feel the boat a rocking?"

Now that she thought about it, she had felt rocking while she lay on the floor. "Of course. Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "I could be Mary Queen o' Scotts. Nay? I could be a ghost. Nay?" The woman dropped her accent, "I could be your twin sister..." she trailed off.

Annabelle stared at her, wondering. "Your name. What is it?"

"Elizabeth Anne. Greyson."

Annabelle couldn't believe it. She really was her sister! Her mother had said nothing about it. "How?"

"How, what? How did it happen? Same as it did with you. Mother and father had us, and you were Annabelle Elizabeth, and I was Elizabeth Anne. When mother left, she took you with her."

"But mother said that father was dead. She said that he was killed in an ambush, and so she left. She never said anything about you..."

"Mother is a liar. Papa didn't die. Oh, there was an ambush, set up by our own dear mother, but they didn't manage to kill him. No, they only beat him near to death and left him. If Michael hadn't been out riding, we would never have found him. Mother knew that she couldn't take both of us, so she packed you up and left, leaving us all behind." Elizabeth was very angry.

"Who is Michael?"

Elizabeth looked exasperated. "Michael is our brother. Did she not even tell you of him?"

"No. She never said anything about you or Michael. She would not talk about father, not even on her deathbed..." Annabelle stopped, realizing that her sister could not have known of their mother's death.

"She is dead?"

"Yes, she died last winter of the fever. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you like that."

"No. It matters little. I had hoped to see her one time, to look upon her and ask her why she left me. Why she had to do what she did. That will never happen now. Perhaps it is better that way. Perhaps..."

"Could it not be that Mother did not set the ambush? Could it not have been another who wished to make Mother look guilty?"

"Another? Nay! It is not possible. Mother's broach was dropped near Father by one of the men. The broach was payment for their services."

"A broach? What did this broch look like?"

"Why?"

"What did it look like?"

"It was made of gold, gold filigree. It was in the shape of an eagle, each feather was a yellow diamond and the eyes green emeralds. It's talons were made of onyx."

"Where is this broach now?"

"It is worn daily on our father's cloak."

"Yes! I knew it! I could not have been Mother. This broach that you speak of was buried with our Mother. It was her last request. She wished to have the broach given her by her husband buried with her."

Elizabeth paused, thinking silently. "It is possible that you could be right, but very unlikely. There was only one broach and Father had it made for her on the day they wed. On it he..."

"He what?"

"He had their initials engraved on the right wing."

"This broach that Father wears, does it bear their initials? Have you seen them?"

"Nay, he lets no one near enough to it to see. When we return we will see if the initials are on the wing. When he sees you he may allow you to see the broach."

Annabelle nodded. "Elizabeth? Where is my maid? Please tell me that she was not hurt."

"Hurt! That termagent? The men brought her in screaming and thrashing. I believe they've stowed her in the cabin by the kitchen. Shall I take you there now?"

"Yes, please do." Annabelle smiled at her sister, wondering how her mother could have born leaving her children behind, and why she had left if she had not indeed been guilty.

"Annabelle? Please don't leave me."

"I will do everything in my power to remain, dear sister. We have much to catch up on." The sisters walked together out the door and down the corridor. Both were silent until they reached the cabin where they were holding Jeanette. "Perhaps it would be better if I went in alone. Seeing two of me might sent her into shock." The two laughed quietly at the idea, and Annabelle entered the cabin. "Jeanette? Oh, dear!" Annabelle saw Jeanette across the cabin, tied the way she herself had been only a short time before. She quickly untied her and Jeanette stretched her sore muscles looking up at her mistress. "Do not worry Jeanette. We will be safe here. Now, do not be terribly alarmed. My sister is going to come into this cabin now. She looks exactly like me."

"Your sister? But, my lady, you have no sister!"

"Indeed? So thought I before today!" Annabelle went to the door and called to Elizabeth to come into the room. She did so, and both girls laughed at the expression on Jeanette's face. "Mon Dieu! How can this be? Two of the same!"

"Be calm, Jeanette," said Elizabeth. "Your mistress will explain all in time. For now, you must come above and meet my crew, on better terms than your last meeting, I hope."

The three women moved out of the cabin and onto the main deck where Elizabeth introduced her crew. "...and this is my captain, Ian Fulmer. Ian, my sister Lady Annabelle and her maid Jeanette." Fulmer bowed his head to Annabelle, with a not a noticeable bow to Jeanette. "It is a pleasure to have you on board, ladies. If you will excuse me, I have a ship to steer." Annabelle watched the handsome man walk back to his post, admiring the leanness of his form.

Leaning toward her sister, Elizabeth said, "You can only look, dear sister. That man has not so much as looked at a woman with interest in many years, and I fear will never again."

Annabelle simply nodded. "How long before we reach your home?" Elizabeth looked to Ian to answer this question.
"With good weather we should be home before nightfall tomorrow."

"Are you hungry? You have not eaten in many hours."

"Yes, I believe we should eat something. Lead on, dear sister." The three women once again went below deck. There they ate and passed the rest of their journey.

When they arrived in the harbor, they were greeted by many angry faces. The face that Annabelle saw first was that of a man perhaps ten years older than herself and her sister. Looking to Elizabeth she saw that her sister was smiling. "Did I not tell you that Michael would be furious? There he stands at the front of his men, scowling at me. He hasn't even noticed you yet." With that, Elizabeth strolled down the gangway and right up to her brother. "Good evening, brother. How does this beautiful night find you? In good spirits I hope."

Michael almost laughed at his sisters audacity. "You know I am not. How could you be so foolish as to take a ship by yourself. What if the men had become mutinous? What then would you have done?"

"Mutinous? Really, Michael, you should know them better than that. They are loyal to us and our father. They would not be so foolish."

Michael grunted. "One would have thought they would not be so foolish as to follow a woman to wherever she might decide to go. Where did you go, Elizabeth, that it was too urgent for you to await my return?"

Elizabeth smiled widely. "Oh, dear Michael. Did you not see her? I went to England, and I brought back someone you have not seen in years." Elizabeth turned and motioned to Annabelle to join her. "May I introduce you to our sister Annabelle Elizabeth Grayson?"

Michael was stunned. "You...you've done it! Father is going to murder you. All the way to England. And without your guards. I've a mind to take you over my knee and beat you til you cannot sit down." Michael turned to Annabelle. "I must say that this is a welcome sight. I welcome you home, Annabelle, lost sister." With that he walked forward and embraced her. "Come. We must hurry to the keep. You must meet our father."

The group hurried to unload the ship cargo, and then left for the keep. During the ride to the keep, Elizabeth warned Annabelle not to be surprised by the state that their father was in. "He cannot do much since the ambush. His left arm is almost useless, and his mind tends to wander. He is most loving though. He will be overjoyed at your return."

Annabelle was growing more and more excited. She was finally going to meet her father. After all these years of thinking he was dead, and here she was going to see him with her own eyes. She greatly feared that he would be displeased seeing her in his keep. What would he say to the child his wife had taken from him so many years before?

After a short time, the group arrived at the keep. Standing on the steps of the keep was a man with very broad shoulders. Standing still, he seemed as if he were a part of the stone that made up the keep, or perhaps a statue wearing clothing. Annabelle had no idea what her father looked like, but she knew without being told that this man was her father. As they drew closer to him, she could see the scares on his face, lines that cut through his cheeks and chin. At another time she might have been horrified, but his scares did not frighten her now. Not now, when she was finally going to meet her father.

The group reined their horses at the foot of the steps to the keep. Elizabeth, who rode beside Annabelle dismounted first, motioning to her sister to do so as well. Having done so, they joined Michael at the foot of the steps, and mounted the steps together. With each step Annabelle's nervousness grew, until she was shaking uncontrollably. They reached the older man at the top of the stairs, and the silence that fell was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Patrick stared at her, thinking he was seeing a ghost, or perhaps a trick. Then he turned to his son and daughter.
"What is the meaning of this? Who is this woman? What does she here?"

"Father," said Elizabeth. "This woman is your daughter, your Annabelle. I have brought her to you."

"Brought her to me? She died with the woman who was your mother. She cannot be here."

Annabelle spoke up now. "My mother did not die, not until the fever took her last winter. Nor did I die. I could not stand before you now, had I died. My mother took me away when she left. She never told me anything about you, but that you had died in an ambush. She never told me about Elizabeth or Michael. When she died, I was left with my uncle, who told me the same story mother had. No, I am not dead, nor am I an imposter. It was your daughter who came to me, not I to her. If you do not believe, then I shall simply have to leave." Annabelle could not believe she had been so bold.

Patrick was as shocked at her behavior as she was herself. "Well! You are most definitely my daughter! Only one of my own could speak with such fire, such determiniation. I welcome, lost daughter of mine. You are welcome in my home. Come, show me that you have missed the father you never knew." With that he opened his arms to embrace her. Annabelle knew that this was not to happen often. She moved quickly into the circle of his arms.

Michael and Elizabeth watched as their fathers face softened and their sister snuggled deep into the embrace, and sighed in relief. They had not been certain how their father would react to seeing the daughter that his wife had taken from him. He could have turned coldly from all three, but had chosen to welcome Annabelle instead.

Patrick let his arms fall to his sides, and Annabelle stepped back. Looking at all his children together for the first time in so long, Patrick was nearly overwhelmed, but it was not the way of men to show emotion. So, he turned away from them, toward the large door that led into the keep. "Now," he said. "Follow me, daughters. Michael, see to your men, and then meet us in the main hall."
"Yes, father." Michael knew better than to argue. It would only serve to anger Patrick.
"Elizabeth, you will have your sisters old room made ready for her.
"Yes, father. Shall I then return to the study?"
"Yes, certainly. Annabelle, please follow me. My study is the one place in the keep where I rule supreme. My word may be law elswhere, but your brother and sister do most of the running of this stone home. Michael trains our men, teaches them what to do and how to do it. Elizabeth takes care of the house, tells the servants what needs to be done when, and how she wants it done. They are good children. And now, now I have my third child, the one I lost.
<To be continued...>