.AN: Hello to everyone! I just wanted to say that if anything about this story is confusing you, go ahead and ask. I'm trying a tweaked style of writing from what I generally do, and I'm not sure how well it is flowing.

Once again, enjoy.

Twelve more years past uneventfully, except for the marriage between Annabelle and a lord, Sir Joshua Taylor. He was a, as Lynn had mentioned to her mother often, a rather bland character with about as much sense as a bowl of porridge. This description was made partly with jealousy; Lynn did not want her sister to be taken away, for she was only fourteen when the marriage took place, and to be stuck alone in the house with Mrs. Price and the spirited Delilah was almost too much for her. If Annabelle had been good for anything, it was to listen to complaints. She never gave advice, and Lynn was skeptical as to whether she was actually listening, but once the complaining part was over, Annabelle was very good at sympathizing, always cooing and brushing the hair out of your eyes, telling you that it was going to be alright.

But life went on, and Lynn began to spend more and more time in the library and garden instead of adventuring with Delilah like she use to, something else she was missing very much. Now a days, Delilah could be found in the general store in town, commonly to visit with Annabelle, who went there often, but usually to allow the town's young men to gape at her.

It was a pity, as far as Lynn was concerned. Delilah was a very bright girl, as opposed to Annabelle who could be a little slow at times. And here she was, showing herself like a ware to be sold, acting like a helpless, stranded young women as to attract attention to herself.

At times Lynn felt like she was missing something, or falling behind. She could never understand why though, and this fact made her very upset. Not knowing something was a very frustrating situation to be in, and Lynn avoided it at all possible costs. But as she grew older, the less this thought bothered her, and she was usually more or less content with her present life.

It was the day of her eighteenth birthday that they had received the news that Mr. Ramsey had died out at sea.

It really was no great surprise. He had married at an older age, an accomplished seaman by the time he had met Mrs. Ramsey. Of course there was the usual sorrow and lament that would accompany any death, but all in all, everyone agreed it was about time he would give up the ghost and have his peace.

Only one question remained. Who was to take over the business?

Mr. Ramsey had not bothered to write a will, for most all of his earnings were going to the Prices to pay the debt. He had no son who would take the business, and no close friends who would want to. The only remaining choice would be one of the daughters, scandolous as it seemed.

In reality, there was only one choice: Lynn. Annabelle could have never handled such a situation, nor her husband (Lynn still was of the same opinion as when she was fourteen, though she did give him credit for being a good fellow). Delilah hardly could have cared; she was more concerned about finding a husband still. Lynn was the only one left with enough sense to run such a large venture.

Now, it wasn't that Lynn wanted to claim the business. She never was fond of being a leader, though if it was necessary, she would do it, and do it well. The problem was that she felt obligated to continue her father's work.

For one thing that Lynn did realize was that thousands of people depended on this business. It wasn't much compared to the East India Trading Company, but for a private ownership, it was rather large. If it were to suddenly disappear, which would be the other consequence, hundreds of sailors would lose their jobs, and hundreds more would lose a source of food and supplies. So for the sake of the mass unknowns, Lynn decided to take over the merchant business.

Originally, she had planned to stay in England, but she soon realized it was very hard to run such a business without going to the many places and conduct business herself. So with the help of Ambrose Macintosh, she set out on her father's old ship, the Reverie, to begin her life at sea.

Her appearance had changed little. She was taller, naturally. Many other subtle changes had occurred as well; her skin was less freckly (though not nearly as clear as Delilah's perfect face) and there as a bronze tint to it that showed she was outside often, but the underlying tone was still the creamy white it had always been. Her blue eyes had eventually became more hazel, which might change to a deeper green every now and then, pretty in their own right but nothing outstanding. Her lips were a bit fuller than they had been as a child, but still thin compared to her sisters.

Everything else seemed to have remained the same. She was still slender, and still tall, but her figure was not particularly outstanding. Her hips, unlike Annabelle's, were slim, and her front was not terribly large. Her hair remained the thick, gorgeous color it had always been, but as always was tucked away in a tight bun, showing her long neck. She was still the plainer of the three sisters, and though she rarely admitted it, this was something she was a little saddened by. It wasn't that she wanted to be beautiful; Lynn just dearly wanted to not be the ugly duckling.

Two years had past, and Lynn's business was running its ever successful course. She was captain of the ship now, which in all respects was rather odd, for she knew very little about the ocean and how to sail. She supposed it was more in respect for her position, so she took it in stride, letting Ambrose figure the coordinates while she figured the numbers.

But now, as she had turned twenty not a week ago, she was back in England, Ethereal Heights. Mrs. Ramsey was not doing as well as she generally did, and Delilah was becoming rather frustrated.

"Oh, Lynn! Thank heavens you're here! Mother has been absolutely mad with pain! No doctor can do anything for her!" The force of the hug Lynn subsequently received nearly knocked her over as she attempted to step through the door to the estate. Delilah had changed little since their last meeting, which was more than six months ago. Her blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight, her fair skin rosy with excitement.

"Hello, Del. What is mother sick with? I only got the letter two weeks ago; is she still bad?"

"Not as much so. The doctors said she had the flu, and nearly died. It was terrible, but she's a strong women, and managed to pull through it. Now, she just complains. I can still hear it ringing in my ears!"

"I suppose I am simply another ear to torture."

"While mine are recovering, yes." The sisters smiled at each other. When Delilah would feel so inclined, she could easily match wits with her younger sister, and both knew it. "I'm glad your back, Lynn."

"Me too. Business has been rather dreary."

Delilah let a small giggle escape her mouth. "You aren't much of a business type. I was surprised when you took it over. And at eighteen! You need to be worried about other, more important things!"

Lynn sighed. "Del, too many people depend on the Ramsey Company. If it didn't keep it going, it could ruin the lives of all of them."

"You care about people too much."

"That was a rude remark. You depend on it too, don't try denying it."

Delilah fell silent, but rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Lillian Ramsey! How nice to see you again!"

It was Mrs. Price, a large, homely women who had an air of elegance and pride around her regardless. Many found her intimidating, but Lynn simply found her welcoming, not doubt attributed to her being raised here since birth. The two embraced fondly, and Mrs. Price sized her up. "I daresay you grown an inch every time I see you. And that skin! Freckled all over!"

"I'm afraid neither can be helped, Mrs. Price. The growth is none of my doing, and my work demands I stay outside."

"Twenty years old, and working like a man! It's absolutely absurd! If you were a aristocrat, you would be going to balls, and probably be married by now! Twenty! You're going to be an old maid!"

Delilah blushed hard, and Lynn knew why. She was already twenty five, and not married, though she mentioned she might be engaged soon, according to the last letter she had sent to Lynn.

"I think I can manage," Lynn whispered, patting the lady's arm reassuringly.

Mrs. Price shook her head, not convinced at all. Though she would never openly admit it, Lynn did want to get married, but she wasn't about to waste her time trying to be married. The right man would come along in due time; Lynn had decided she just needed to be patient and wait.

"Let's go to your room and get your things in order. Is Ambrose going to be staying in town?" Ambrose did usually accompany her wherever Lynn went, both for protection and friendship, for they had become very close after her father's death.

"No. The Reverie needs a few repairs, and Ambrose is going to oversee that. He might show up later in a few days."

Mrs. Price nodded and motioned for the two of them to follow her up the stairs. When she had lived here, her room was in the servant quarters, but now that Lynn was officially gone and living elsewhere, she was housed in the guest rooms, a fact that irked Delilah greatly.

They arrived on the second floor, whose walls were covered with pictures of the ancestors of the Prices, ones Lynn enjoyed fawning over in spare time. But as they walked on, she noticed a new one hanging not ten feet away.

It was a picture of a young man, one who would have been in their late teens at the time of the painting. He was dark, handsome, with a mischievous grin that could melt a heart. Lynn recognized him in an instant: it was Jacob Price, the same one she had known when she was but eight.

Mrs. Price stared longingly at it. "He looked so much like his father. And such potential in every aspect of his life. If only…" she never finished her sentence. Delilah was looking hungrily at it as well, leaving Lynn to be the only one honestly musing without emotions cluttering her brain. The memories of him were nothing spectacular.

"I think he is still alive," Lynn finally said. "I don't think he would let himself die."

Mrs. Price smiled forcefully. "I just wish I knew what had happened to him. No clues, no nothing. Well, here is your room, Lillian. I imagine your mother is going to want to see you soon."

She nodded politely, but her mind was elsewhere, thinking of this new revelation. The Prices had never known where Jacob had gone; yet, he had told her, an eight year old girl, what he was going to do. Lynn laughed at her own absurd thoughts. It couldn't have been the truth, only a silly story to entertain or scare her, both done, if not intended. Indeed, she barely remembered it now, it was so long ago. Something about a ship…but it mattered no more. Twelve years ago Lynn had last seen him. What did he matter to her now? She would never see Jacob Price again.

Lynn was freshened and in a peach day dress, ready to attended to her waiting mother, whom Delilah had come numerous times to remind she was begging for Lynn's presence. Stepping though the door, she saw her dear mother lying there, white and a little chalky, but none the less healing.

She had changed since father's death. Before she was calm and considerate, both of which she retained, but she seemed to have a certain…fetish, one might call it…with marrying off her daughters. Annabelle had married right before Mr. Ramsey past away, and this might have had something to do with the sudden personality change. None the less, she was still a sweet and caring mother, if not a little more forgetful.

"Lynn, my darling! I am so glad to see you! I have been in the utmost pain, and could barely stand it any longer!"

"I am sorry, Mama. But I daresay there is very little I can do for you."

"No matter, dearest. Come, so I may see you. I do believe you have grown twice as lovely from when I last saw you!"

Lynn smiled, automatic and thoughtless, at the comment. She had heard this phrase countless times in her youth, beginning from when her sisters where blooming in their teenage years, while she was still stuck as a gangly girl. It continued into Lynn's own adolescence, where it remained nothing more than a booster of her self-confidence. She was never pretty as a young women, and was quite aware of the fact that she remained more or less plain now.

"Thank you, Mama. Delilah said you were feeling better."

"Hardly. But the doctors said it would pass. I pray they are right." She looked at me a bit longer. "How is Ambrose?"

"Well." Lynn shifted uncomfortably. Mama had asked her three different times if she thought him a good marriage choice before, a topic Lynn was not willing to listen to again. He was almost fifty, a widower, with children who were older than her own twenty years. In her perspective, he was a good friend and good business partner, nothing more.

Thankfully, Mama said nothing and nodded her head thoughtfully. "And the company is going well, my dear?"

"Yes." Another comment that brought back memories, though this time bittersweet. Mama had asked that same question to Papa when he was still alive, and to hear it again made Lynn feel like a little child once more.

"Good, good." She glanced out the door before turning to Lynn again, motioning to come closer. "I've been hearing some odd things from the servants, things about the Price's estate in the Caribbean. They say some people are trying to seize it."

"Seize? The estate? What claim do they have?"

"I don't know the details, but from what the butler tells me, there is a man, a Derek Conway, who has been trying to take it, by force if necessary."

"Force? Who is this man?"

"A rich fellow with a plantation on the same island. He convinced the governor to give him troops to take it, but he's been thwarted three times already."

Lynn frowned, both at the terrible news and her mother's keen interest on this subject, which really was none of her business. "Who is at the estate to 'thwart' this attack?"

"No one really. The only person who lives there is the aging aunt of Mr. Price, and the house servants. A mysterious stranger has been helping, with a group of his own. Spooky, if you asked me."

"Strange, indeed," agreed Lynn.

"I thought so too," answered a different voice.

Lynn and her mother jumped at the intrusion, to see none other than Mrs. Price standing in the door way, looking annoyed. Mrs. Ramsey blushed furiously and sat up quickly. "Please pardon my loose tongue, Mrs. Price. It was not my place."

"Just remember in the future, Mrs. Ramsey," answered Mrs. Price, approaching the bed quickly.

"You see, ma'm, I thought my Lynn might be able to offer some advice. She's a clever girl."

"I know. In fact, I was thinking the same thing."

Lynn raised her eyebrows, but showed no more of her surprise than that. "What can I do to be of assistance? I hardly have a ship load of soldiers to help fend off another attack."

"No, but you do have a ship full of money, and the Ramsey Company is very influential, especially in the Caribbean, something I'm sure you're aware of."

"Indefinitely, Mrs. Price. But I fail to see your point."

"I was hoping you might, on your next trip by Antigua, be able to talk to the governor there. Tell him to not lend the troops to Mr. Conway, and explain the situation to him. Threaten him with the Crown if you must; we have the connections to send its wrath to him. Or bribe him, if that is easier. Consider the bribe part of the money you owe us."

That was an undisputed fact; Mrs. Price had not needed to remind Lynn. Half of what she earned went to the Price family, for they hadn't paid their debt off yet, and anything she did in their behalf was always their money.

"I was planning to go to the colonies in four months," Lynn explained, "and stay here for as much time as I could before that. But as soon as the Reverie is repaired, we will go to Antigua and talk to the governor. You do realize it would be Ambrose talking."

Mrs. Price laughed. "I hardly expected a twenty year old women to be taken seriously. And Ambrose is already well known in that part. I will write a letter as well, giving my own explanation."

"Of course, Mrs. Price. I will help you. Promise."