"What in the devils!" Nathaniel crossly tossed down his pen, the incessant ringing of the front door bell wracking his focus. Ink droplets splattered carelessly upon the ledgers he so hopelessly struggled to balance. Christ! Couldn't he just damn the bloody books to hell and cast them into the fire? 

Perhaps--

No! Having had neglected the duties tied to earldom for long enough, there was an obligation to be performed. Already spending the better part of the morning slumped over various letters bringing to his attention a range of issues at his estates; Nathaniel simply didn't have the mind to deal with an insufferable visitant. No. Not after sorting through letters from disgruntled tenants and greedy collectors. Not in his foul mood and not when there were other places he wished to be; namely upstairs, nestling beside his sleeping wife as he had done for the past week. 

Rising sharply from his grand desk, he cursed doubly, irately swiping his waistcoat from the back of the chair. Had he not clearly implied he wished for no company? And at--well, what time was it anyway? Casting a furious glance at the time piece, his anger rose; ten in the morning! Who would be so stupid as to create a scene so early in the morning?! The ruckus of muffled voices and sharp footsteps now heard out in the hall would undoubtedly waken Annabelle and disturb Logan's lessons--dammit!  

Storming towards the door to locate, and in considering the time, severely reproach the source of the intolerable commotion, the voices rose; One clearly being Washington, the butler, enforcing to someone who obviously refused to listen that Nathaniel wished to see no one, under any circumstances. The defiant guest apparently evaded Washington, Nathaniel inwardly admitting that the stout man in no way served as a deterrent to an improper and resolute guest. Determined footsteps stopped in front of the library; Nathaniel tore the door open, harsh words on the ready when--

"Dammit William! You sure run a tight ship, I must say!"

Nathaniel blinked, an underwhelming sigh making way to a defeated chuckle, "I should have known it was you creating such a scene at this hour," he greeted his cousin, a loose embrace quickly following. Having grown up beside the man whose disheveled appearance spoke of late nights at the club, no doubt joining those looking to evade whether it be a spouse or in Richard's case, meddling fathers, Nathaniel was delighted to see him. Of all the acquaintances that came along with Lord Hamilton's identity, Nathaniel was most grateful for Richard however improper he tended to behave. While lacking a great deal of desired social graces, due not to upbringing but for the simple sake of infuriating his father, Nathaniel thought Richard to be an exemplary human being though he was also sure that if not for his fortune and name, Richard would have been long cast from society. 

Washington, who labored through winded breaths, straightened, "Forgive me sir. I informed Master Hamilton that you wished not to be disturbed--" 

"I should have clarified Washington, forgive me." Nathaniel stepped aside, granting Richard entrance to the library. Richard tossed a clearly perturbed Washington his top hat, draping his coat over the man's shoulder then strode into the library. Christ, typical Richard.  

Shaking his head, Nathaniel turned back to Washington, "When I said no interruptions, I meant it more for the pack of wolves no doubt waiting for a proper hour to pounce on my wife with their calls." he clarified, not yet willing to share Annabelle with the sordid society outside of Hamilton Hall. 

He added, "Surely it has been in the papers by now and there will be an alarming amount of calls. I trust you will be able to handle a few desperate women trying to burst through the door, will you not old chap?" Nathaniel grinned with amusement knowing his butler did not appreciate the jibe at his not being able to keep Richard at the door. He always did have much fun tormenting the poor man. 

Washington adjusted his coat petulantly, "Yes sir. If you will excuse me, I will have tea brought immediately--" 

"Tea?!" Richard's voice boomed from behind. Casting a bemused glance over his shoulder, Nathaniel spotted him already at the sideboard, decanter in hand, one tumbler filled, "Save your blasted tea! This is time for celebration!" 

Suspecting that Richard had no doubt started said celebration long before arriving, Nathaniel regarded Washington, defeated, "Tea will not be necessary but do inform Cook that we will be having a guest for morning meal." With an abbreviated bow, Washington stepped back and Nathaniel closed the door. Turning, he found Richard sitting at the chair facing the grand desk, brandy in hand, his other extended with an additional glass in Nathaniel's direction.  

Reluctantly taking the tumbler, Nathaniel eyed the liquor wearily, "Brandy? At this hour? " he returned to his desk.  

"You're starting to sound like my father! What the bloody hell is wrong with this hour--"Richard gripped his red hair clearly confused, "What hour is it anyhow?" Settling back in the chair, he tossed back his head with a groan, eyes closed.  

Eyeing his half inebriated cousin curiously, Nathaniel set down his glass, "God, you never did go home last night did you Richard?" By the man's altered appearance alone, Nathaniel already knew the answer. And he knew why as well. 

Richard scoffed weakly, confirming his suspicions, "And why on earth would I do that? Father isn't there to torment me about my drinking, neither is my brother to remind me of what a pathetic excuse for a Hamilton I am. So in short, no, I have not yet gone home. And even if they were home, I probably wouldn't bother going either. News of your marriage will not go well with father seeing as I am older than you yet not only are you married but have a son...." He barely lifted his head, winking an eye open, "Do you do this on purpose? Outdo me so father has something of which to make me want to drown in a pool of brandy?"  

Nathaniel failed to restrain a grin, "You would do that willingly." he chuckled, adding, "And I apologize if everything I have done in that past has ignited my uncle's foul mouth. It was not intentional. But for my marriage I will not apologize." 

"And neither should you." Richard cheered, straightening and raising his glass, "To your marriage. After eleven years, well, it's about bloody time. Don't mess it up!" and with a clinking of the glasses, Richard knocked back the rest of his brandy, Nathaniel regretting his likewise decision almost instantly. The burn intensified upon hitting his empty stomach, "Damn you Richard." He groaned, setting down the glass sharply. Brandy being his liquor of preference, it never did make its debut before the noon hours. And it would remain as such, Nathaniel thought in stiffening, allowing the burning to subside. Setting the ink stained ledgers aside, Nathaniel clasped his hands on the desk, watching as Richard approached the sideboard once more; Heavens. 

"And another," he rose his newly filled tumbler, "for the lovely countess! How is she fairing?" he put the glass to his mouth then paused. Pensively, he denied himself a drink and lowered the glass, adding, 

"And for the love of God, tell me that what you wrote in your letter of her having been at the Melbourne's all these years was some delusion or perhaps written after one too many of these," he raised his tumbler. Obviously after having rescued Annabelle and ascertained her safety, Nathaniel wrote Richard to inform him of the developments, including all claims made by Annabelle on their wedding night. Claims of which caused Nathaniel grave guilt induced nightmares; the ones that led to his waking so uncharacteristically early that morning. 

Sitting back, Nathaniel eyed the wedding band on his finger in equal admiration and sadness. Sadness for what he was about to say, "I do wish it were but I fear it is not the case; everything written was of a sound mind and while sober." 

Richard gritted his teeth, "Savages they are!" 

"Indeed. All these years, she was there as a servant of all things..." Delving into a retelling of the horrifying tale told him but a week prior, Nathaniel suppressed with colossal strength the nauseating rage that clenching his stomach. Each horrid detail of the past account seemed harder to bear than when it had been first told. It wouldn't ever ease, of that Nathaniel was sure. Richard too seem greatly affected, abandoning his tumbler at the sideboard and returning to his chair in a dreamlike daze no doubt induced by Nathaniel's grim tale of Annabelle's missing years. 

Paled, Richard cupped his mouth in disbelief, "Good God." He paused, his blue eyes narrowing, "Poor girl. What an existence." After a moment, he recovered, saying, 

"And how many times did I not pass Melbourne House en route to Richmond? Damn it Will, I feel almost responsible for not having uncovered she was there all these years. " 

Guilt stabbed Nathaniel equally, recalling the days spent at Melbourne House where his instincts blared at the similarities between Martha and Annabelle yet his pride refused the claims, thinking Annabelle wouldn't ever become a servant; foolish pride. 

He cleared his throat, "As do I, but with much prayer I hope she will be able to find some happiness, as much as haunting memories will allow. It will take much more than rest to cleanse the horror from her bones, the sadness from her eyes; the scars on her back..." Nathaniel trailed off, inwardly wincing in remembering Annabelle's bare back, her pale skin blanketed with healed wounds, years worth of beatings forever casting their memory on her skin. His heart pounded in his ears as his fists clenched tightly.  

Offering him a slight reprieve, his mind ushered sweeter memories of Annabelle's hair cascading against her marked back as tears of joy streamed down her face not because of pain but because of their love. Her green eyes glinted with pure joy and love, forgetting all those painful memories if only for those moments. Nathaniel's body panged with awareness at the crushing need to feel her again washed over him. The need to love her until those dreaded memories vanished into the oblivion formed by their union. Struggling for a proper breath, he released his fisted fingers, forcing his mind back to the matter,  

"And while her health has improved greatly, I fear those scars are rooted deep." He glanced aside, wishing to dispel the furious quaver in his throat, "She has moments where she angers greatly. Not an outward anger, no; but she stiffens with a cold, scathing fury. It's quite distressing." And then the oddity that puzzled him most,  

"And it normally occurs in the presence of my mother. I suppose the sternness displayed by my mother is very similar to that of Mrs. Melbourne, in turn perhaps bringing on the wretched memories. After all she's experienced, I should come to expect it." 

Richard nodded, "Yes, yes...and your mother? What has she to say of your nuptials and Lady Annabelle's appearance?" 

A sour moment for Nathaniel. Resigning from his chair, he strode to the sideboard, instantly finding himself in need of a drink if he were to repeat the horrible theories held by his mother; the very idea crippling him. Draining his glass at once, Nathaniel stiffened as the burning claimed him, and then explained Mrs. Hawkins poisonous theories.  

Richard straightened; blubbering in shock for a few moments, he then frowned, "My God! Forgive me but I do think that while her logic is understandable and could be convincing to those who do not know Lady Annabelle, your mother is out of bounds entirely. Those are grave accusations and you should think no more on the matter." he pated his knee with a stern finality, "I'm sure your mother herself said those atrocities in the heat of the moment but she wouldn't ever entertain such madness. How could Annabelle have possibly been an accomplice if she disappeared at thirteen? I doubt any girl at that age would have the needed mind to concoct such a plot so convincingly. No, no. I beg of you, leave those wretched thoughts alone and think only of the countess' complete happiness." Richard readily offered.

"I will spend the rest of my days in pursuit of that. " Nathaniel vowed. 

"I hope so but that may be wishful thinking, at least until this mystery woman is apprehended and dealt with accordingly. I doubt she will give up so easily after all she's done.  You've no clue at all of who she may be? Will Annabelle not tell you?" 

Nathaniel searched his mind with what little clues he'd gathered, the very same manner in which he wracked his mind the prior night as Annabelle slept. Still, his searching produced nothing. "I've driven myself mad thinking. Annabelle refuses to say this woman's name until she has proof though I have no idea how she intends to go about attaining it." 

"Smart girl. While I in no way doubt her word, she was but a servant and her accusation is quite severe, though I trust you would take her word and believe in all she says because she is your wife." 

Nathaniel remained silent for a moment, the quiet startling him. But then in mentally cursing his doubtful mind, he decidedly declared, "You know bloody well I would." 

Meeting his glance, Richard canted his head, "Would I offend you in saying your answer lacked a certain conviction?" his words giving Nathaniel a discomforting pause. Why had the answer proved to be so hellishly difficult to utter? It couldn't be he doubted her...no that was crazy. He scowled at the thoughts. 

Richard added, "My apologies--" 

"Nonsense," Nathaniel waved off his apology, "I suppose my mother's speculations have uprooted me a bit, shamelessly playing at my logical half," and it disgusted him, "My desperation in wanting more answers has compromised my faith..." Nathaniel sighed heavily, "but no, I would in no way doubt her, I can assure you. I just wish she would trust me enough to tell me of this woman's identity." 

"Can't blame her really Will. It has been eleven years after all." Nathaniel nodded, half surprised that his cousin while under the influence of brandy, still managed to offer wise words. 

Richard continued, "Eleven years of not one word, not even a letter." 

"Which brings about another more disturbing fact; she says she never once received any of my letters. I must have written her every day, even before she disappeared yet not one reached her. Thankfully I never mentioned in any of those letters taking on Will's identity or everything could have been lost." 

Richard shook his head slowly, "That is rather strange," he echoed, stroking his chin pensively. He then inquired, "And what of her? Did she not say whether she wrote you?" 

Nathaniel shoulders lifted with a deep inhale, then eased with a sigh, "Daily yet she says she never got one note. "  Richard fell into silence, Nathaniel clearly sensing his mind working furiously and not able to ignore the proposal his cousin no doubt brewed over. Finally Richard spoke, 

"It gets stranger with each word. They couldn't have gotten lost, that's impossible. And it appears this shrouded woman has been in works long before Lady Annabelle's disappearance. This seems like it will be harder to uncover than the countess' whereabouts, but I shall try nonetheless." 

What? Though he expected the words, Nathaniel was in no way prepared to actually hear them. He paused, not knowing how to respond to his cousin's offer. Had he not done enough in the past years trying to find Annabelle to then delve into another mystery? Surely there was no way Nathaniel could allow another selfless gesture, no matter how desperate he himself wished to know--

"Richard, I cannot ask you to do that. You devoted years in my search for Annabelle when I should have been the one searching for her." 

"Yet you found her and I did not. Besides, we both know Julius forbid your travel to Richmond and the risk of anyone recognizing you or of any slip if words--no. It was safer for me to go and I did so willingly as I am proposing to do now." He raised a hand dismissively, "I can assure you, my intentions are not entirely selfless," And irritably, Nathaniel's brows joined as they often did whenever Richard uttered his next words, "I must settle our debt in some way." 

What on earth was this damned debt Richard always referenced whenever he sought to do something selfless? It bothered Nathaniel greatly that he didn't know of what Richard spoke of, so once again he pressed, 

"What is this blasted debt you speak of Richard? It's been almost six years and you have yet to tell me." 

Meeting his eyes, Richard smiled weakly, "And as always Will, I must disappoint you. As I have said countless times, I will tell you once our debt is settled, and then you can hate me."  

Nathaniel scoffed knowing that answer all too well. Richard then chuckled and added, "Patience is a virtue cousin. You will know soon enough. Soon enough." 

Forcing a nod, Nathaniel sat back. Perhaps letting Richard search for this mysterious cloaked woman would two birds would be killed with one stone. The evil woman would be uncovered as too would this mysterious debt which Richard felt himself bound to, never asking for recompense of any sort--well maybe just the brandy. Greatly heartened nonetheless, Nathaniel sat forward and opened his mouth to offer a word of thanks when--

"Father!" The door burst open, Logan running inside with urgent words spread about his face. But before voicing them, he spotted Richard and the words got lost in the beam of his smile, "Uncle!" he gasped, quickly changing course, leaping into his Richard's waiting arms. 

Hugging him, Richard then pulled him back tauntingly, "Logan, is that you? Why," Richard teasingly rubbed his eyes, "Look how tall you've grown. You're very well on your way to becoming a man!" he ruffled Logan's hair. Wishing to let Logan relish in his favorite uncle, Nathaniel regretted having to cut their reunion short but he could not ignore the troubling look his son held just a moment before.  

He cleared his throat, "Logan, are you not supposed to be in lessons?" 

"Yes but--" 

"But what? Where is Mrs. Hawkins?" 

Logan readily answered, "Quarreling." 

What? Goodness, was his mother back to her usual antics in reprimanding the staff after he'd repeatedly told her not to raise any suspicions--Damn! An irritable brow elevated, "Quarrelling? With who? Washington? Henrietta?" 

Curling further into his uncle, Logan shook his head. Well hell, if she didn't quarrel with the butler, nor the housekeeper, who on earth did she argue with? Then much to Nathaniel's dismay, Logan answered,  

"With Annabelle."  

** 

Moments before... 

A singular ray of light tickled Annabelle's eyes, breeching through an unwitting crack in the heavy velvet curtains. A bother normally, Annabelle smiled softly. No longer did she dread waking, especially after the past week where her mornings were filled with equal pleasure as were her nights. She trembled in remembering her husband's sweet breaths against her ear, his gentle demonstrations of love after which she would then bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking, nuzzling into the crook of his neck where more endearments would lull her to a sweet slumber. Coloring, she tauntingly reprimanded her wanton body who in turn fired back with words Nathaniel whispered to her the previous night. Annabelle's closed her eyes as they played all around her, 

'Have I ever told you how utterly beautiful you are?' 

Dear God. Thankfully she still lay down since in remembering those words, her joints dissolved. Immunity had yet to develop when it came to her reactions to Nathaniel but Annabelle smiled in knowing it never would. She wouldn't ever allow it. 

Sadly that morning did not hold the same promise when in lazily opening her eyes, she woke to an empty bed. Sweeping her hand along the place where her husband once lay, a disappointing coolness greeted her fingers; it had been some time since he'd last lay there. Since her wedding night never had Nathaniel not been there when she woke. He'd slowly become her sunlight in the morning, seeing his beautiful face beside hers whenever her eyes opened. 

Her eyes turned to the timepiece above the mantle, Goodness! Why, it was well past ten! What decent woman dared sleep so late? But then again, Annabelle sighed in stretching her bones and untangling herself from the tussled sheets, there were no rooms to mop, or dresses to mend. No, she was Lady Hamilton and she could sleep well into the evening if she very well pleased.  

Pulling the bed dressings back over her shoulders Annabelle pondered over the past week that had passed with no trouble and no horrible dissapointments...well save for dirty glances and snipped whispers from Mrs. Hawkins. Mrs. Hawkins had for the most part kept her mask on. Before Nathaniel honeyed smiles were of plenty, but whenever he was otherwise engaged, venom seethed from her pores and Annabelle could not deny the same being said of her. But still, she had yet to act on her threat-- 

...You cannot get too comfortable.... 

Comfortable? No. Never. Comfort wouldn't ever be possible with Mrs. Hawkins under their roof. But unfortunately, for the time being, she wasn't going anywhere. Annabelle closed her eyes--then snapped them open. There was movement in the connecting chamber...in her personal chamber. Eyes wide, she focused her energies on her hearing as paranoia ushered in a cold sweat. Who in the devils was in her room?  

Wrestling with her suspicion, her conscience offered a simple answer though it was at intense odds with her instincts, 

The housekeeper...? 

The housekeeper--Yes, well, that seems logical. Annabelle released a sighed chuckle. Silly mind, Of course it was the housekeeper. Surely the bed was being made and everything tidied up-- 

A scraping sound of drawers being opened and shut clipped at Annabelle. Her hand flew to her mouth in instant debate as the sounds proved to be entirely too much to suppress her curiosity. Other doors were then opened and closed followed by cautious footsteps-the squeaking of the hinges clearly telling of the wardrobe doors being opened. What on earth? Were the movements not too flighty and rushed for it to be the maid? Paranoia or not, stupidity was out of the question! Whoever it was obviously searched for something--

But what? Annabelle had little to call her own. Against her wishes, Nathaniel had indeed sent for her belongings at Melbourne House, but that was but a few dresses, not more than one trunk. What else could they be searching for?  

Right! How could she forget? Had Nathaniel himself not showered her with an abundance of precious jewels, some of which Annabelle never knew existed? But truly, a servant could not be so stupid as to try and steal while the mistress slept in the other room, could they? No, impossible. There had to be an explanation.  

Bemused, Annabelle rolled over intending to get out of bed-- 

"Christ!" she screeched. Lost in her paranoid thoughts she had failed to notice Logan standing beside the bed. Unfortunately due to her scream, the movements in the chamber stopped. Rats! Regaining her breath, she said, "Logan, what on earth are you doing standing there love?" Clasping her thundering heart, she pressed her feet on the floor, adjusting her nightshirt.  

He blankly stared, "Waiting for you to wake up. You're always sleeping and I didn't want my lessons." 

Scrunching her brows, she gathered the small child into her arms, "So you ran away from Mrs. Hawkins to come and see me did you?" Could he be blamed? "You know very well your father gets cross when you run off." 

His eyes shot to her, "But I didn't run off this time, I swear." 

Annabelle stared back at his blue eyes with a gentle smile "Is that so? Then tell me, where is Mrs. Hawkins now? No doubt she is looking for you." 

Then, as if it were a well-accepted normalcy, Logan replied, "She is in your chambers." 

What! Annabelle's blood ran cold. What in the devils was that woman doing in her chambers! Resigning instantly from the warmth of her husband's bed, Annabelle slid on her robe in haste when suddenly a startled gasp escaped her-- 

"Logan! There you are!" Mrs. Hawkins swept into the room, a dainty hand pressed against her chest in feigned fright; "You should not be here!" she added, reaching for the unwilling child. Scoffing, Annabelle forbid her, 

"You cannot be serious!" she snarled, the clip in her voice most frightening. Quickly sensing Logan coil, she turned, "Logan, please go to your father." Annabelle forced a flatness to her voice. Never would she want to scare him with her temper, especially when with Mrs. Hawkins present she was so close to losing it.  

Mrs. Hawkins reached for him once more, "I will take him to his father." 

"The devil you will!" she roared, "Logan go to your father this instant!" the wobble of her voice now uncontrollable. Annabelle's heart clenched, hating having to speak to Logan in such harsh tones but his young ears did not deserve to hear what was to come next. If Logan meant to disapprove, Annabelle's wild look must have discouraged him as with little hesitation, he quickly exited.  

Mrs. Hawkins turned, fully intending to follow in Logan's steps but with determined hands, Annabelle yanked the woman around, a desperate savageness claiming her "If you think you will be able to get away with whatever monstrosities you pulled at Melbourne House then you are mistaken!" 

Tearing her arm from Annabelle's hold, Mrs. Hawkins stumbled back, eyes cold as ice yet her voice taking the tone of artificial fear, "Forgive me Madam. When Master Logan ran off, I simply chased after him. I didn't want him to disturb you while you slept." 

Sensations of pure rage swirled within the pit if Annabelle's stomach, threatening the sanity that barely held on; it ebbed, it flowed, it punctured, it seared until fully consuming her, "And what did that have to do with searching my belongings?!" 

Mrs. Hawkins cast her glance aside, "I cannot say I know what you speak of."  

What! A choking sound escaped Annabelle.What on earth was she playing at?

"You don't--" Annabelle stammered, her hands clenched into tight fists; years of anger swelling painfully within her, "You don't know what I speak of!"--Curse it all!  

Swiftly clutching Mrs. Hawkins once more, Annabelle dug her nails deep, jerking the woman through the connecting doors and into her chambers, "Tell me what you searched for!" she thrust her forward. Shaking feverishly, Annabelle paced around the calm woman, gripping her nightshirt to keep her hands occupied lest madness overtake her; her composure deteriorating by the second, begging for the kill.  

Mrs. Hawkins remained rooted, a look of sadistic pleasure glinting in her frigid blue eyes. Disinterestedly sighing, she smirked "Did I not say my son would hate you if you meddled? "she stepped closer, whispering,

"Well you've outdone yourself and defiance carries consequence." Her inhumane calm sent ripples of anger and disbelief down Annabelle's spine. Stumbling back, Mrs. Hawkins eyes grew wide. Cluthing her heart, she instantly began sobbing--What the devils? 

Scarcely able to believe the charade playing before her, Annabelle struggled for words; her conscience taking advantage of the deafening interlude, blaring, 

Stop! Stop now!  You musn't create a scene!

The relentless voice in the back of her mind begged her to stop but the fury scathing her begged for release. Try though she did, she could no longer!  

Then in employing tears, Mrs. Hawkins shook her head, "I've done nothing but try to help you. You were like a daughter to me!" she bellowed . What on earth-- 

But suddenly it came to Annabelle the reasons for Mrs. Hawkins drastic change in character. Spinning around, she came to face with a black waistcoat and immaculate white cravat. Tilting her head back in cold dread, Annabelle then met her husbands baffled glare. Dammit!  

Well hell, Dash it all! Let it all be revealed--Damned if she did, Damned if she didn't... 

...right?

** 

Author's Note: As always, please vote and comment. They are both equally important :)

So Richard has a secret...hmm.... any guesses? And as you can tell, the next chapter-Boom! I'm a bit happy about that.  

This chapter was about 10 word pages and I wrote it out on paper first....crazy huh? But I was able to upload faster by doing so making it worth the work!  

Also, a lovely fan, TheShadowThief, wrote a poem for the story which was really sweet of her so after you're done voting and commenting (hahaha) go on and take a look-

http://www.wattpad.com/917425-a-promise-broken

If any of you have any quotes, poems or pictures, fitting to the story feel free to post the link and I'll add them throughout the story if they are fitting :) And if you haven't yet, go on and fan. You know you want to! Ok, I'm done rambling!

<3 Thanks for reading!