The guards certainly were puzzled to see Tavington return Will Arden unharmed. There had been whispers here and there throughout the yard that he awaited a fate worse than death for stealing from the vengeful Colonel. So, you can imagine everyone's surprise when they learned that Tavington permitted Mr. Arden to keep the notebook on his person in the cell.
"I am giving Mr. Arden the opportunity to write any information that he might be withholding from us," he explained to one of the guards, "should he comply, he might gain back his freedom. If not, I'd like the item returned to me after his execution. The choice is his."
After giving Annabelle one last glance from the other side of the wooden bars, Tavington headed for the stables and could be seen riding off shortly after.
"What's in that thing, Arden?" Asked the always gruff John Billings as he stabbed the outside of the notebook with his finger.
Annabelle opened to a section of the book she was certain would be blank and lifted it high for all to see. Nothing. Shortly after, their curiosity died down. She thought about hunting through the pages to uncover whatever it was that Tavington wrote, but decided against it. Having something to look forward to tends to bring a sense of levity to the spirits when one is cooped up, after all. Instead, she focused her energy on composing his poem. She remembered the Shakespeare reference he'd made earlier and decided to work in iambic pentameter. This kept her occupied for the better half of the day.
She didn't look up from her work until John Billings and Reverend Oliver initiated a group prayer. They were nearly successful in pulling Annabelle's hat off of her head, when Benjamin Martin himself arrived at the gate with two large Great Danes to negotiate their freedom with Lord Cornwallis.
The tension amongst the men was heavy. Not a word was spoken until he was spotted exiting the building. The order was given and the prisoners were granted their freedom once again. Annabelle was the last to leave. But when everyone else was reuniting with their valiant savior, she saw to it that she was the first to the stables where, to her relief, she was permitted to have Rascal back. She was not entirely antisocial and even flashed Benjamin Martin a thousand-watt smile as she came forward to mingle with the rest of her companions.
"A boy and his horse, I guess." Benjamin chimed as Gabriel laughed in agreement.
It was around this time that the gates were opened, allowing passage for the last person Annabelle wanted to see. Tavington looked right past her, staring daggers at Benjamin as he dismounted. He strode across the lawn and confronted O'Hara. Annabelle and the others were ushered out through the gates and they stared in disbelief as Tavington revealed just what he had done to Benjamin Martin's poor son. Annabelle knew that he had killed him, but hearing it from his own mouth and with such a lack of empathy was horrific.
The two men shared a final, hostile exchange of words and Tavington's eyes moved to Annabelle. This was the first time she'd ever seen him look defeated.
"We're not done here quite yet." Tavington hissed before they parted ways. "I will be keeping the girl."
Annabelle felt as though the ground had been swept out from underneath her. He had, in a state of weakness, reached out and pulled her into the waves to suffer, to drown alongside him. There was nothing she could do in that moment to save her from this terrible, sinking feeling- except, perhaps to speak.
"You hold no claim on me, Colonel Tavington. I have been freed with the rest of these men." Annabelle declared with volume. She urged Rascal forward to where Benjamin Martin stood looking both stunned and disappointed all at once. "I am sorry that I deceived you."
"Deceived me?" He nearly lost his footing in the process, but managed to pull Annabelle from Rascal's back in one clean sweep. "Me?! Do you even realize the severity of what you have done!?"
She looked up at him from her place on the ground. "Of course I do, Sir. And I guarantee you that I will take full responsibility for my actions. But don't you remember why I joined your cause in the first place?"
This didn't seem to help her case. "You haven't only deceived us- you have made a mockery of me, of these men, of the entire nation!" He exclaimed, kicking a puff of dirt in her face as he removed his pistol and took aim.
"I suppose you're just too proud to admit that your best marksman is a woman." Annabelle managed to produce a tiny smirk. If anything, her comment had stayed his hand for a moment longer. But the truth was, Benjamin had seen too many similarities between Will Arden and his boys and even now, he witnessed channels being crossed between Annabelle and his daughters. She was clever, headstrong, full of wit and curiosity… and did not deserve to die.
"You were a fair marksman at best. I am sorry that you lost your loved ones and I hope that you find the closure that you are looking for. But there is no place for you in my Militia." He offered his hand and pulled Annabelle up from the ground before turning his eyes to Tavington. "This woman is a citizen of the American Colonies. She is therefore under our protection. Should you inflict any harm on her, my men will be forced to open fire." His voice then lowered to a whisper. "Get back on your horse and ride as far away from here as you can."
She could not stay. Now that Tavington had uncovered the identity of his "Ghost", she would be bled dry for answers. Her little home in the woods was no more than a day's ride away and although she knew that it would do her good to return to her hometown, too much time had passed and she feared more than anything having to explain her disappearance to anyone.
Above all, Annabelle hadn't spoken to her father in nearly a year and there was a very real possibility that he had been killed in battle. To return home, to stand in the same place where she had seen her loved ones murdered in cold blood, and then to learn that the war claimed the last of her family, would destroy her. So, she fell back into her usual pattern of running away from her problems and living in denial.
It was for this exact same reason that Annabelle refused to investigate the passage that Tavington wrote in the notebook. She managed to convince herself that it was exactly what she'd hoped it to be: an apology. That combined with the expression on his face as the shots that killed her sisters sounded through the air was enough to aid her in the ongoing process of forgiving him. A simple recollection of the words that she'd heard him say earlier about Benjamin Martin's son, however, slowed this process down significantly.
They gave her enough time to vanish out of sight and Annabelle remained clear of the highways all day, staying true to the narrow veins of deer trails that stretched throughout the forest. This slowed her journey to a crawl, but ensured a safe crossing to her lovely little home that she missed dearly and thought of often. Her long day's ride came to its end when she heard the gentle sound of familiar waters lapping against even more familiar stones. At long last, she'd returned to what she believed in secret to be her own little country, tucked carefully aside from all of the rest of the world. Annabelle was home.
This sentiment was short lived. The voice of the stream was not entirely unaccompanied. As Annabelle coaxed Rascal to move closer, she could see the glow of a small fire in the pit beside her garden. Beside it, two or three Continental soldiers were crouched. "They must be using it for a campsite," she thought to herself. As she weighed her options, a middle-aged soldier with a receding line of golden curls and circular spectacles burst out of the front door with a book in his hand. He found a place beside the fire and began to read. Annabelle watched him closely, but she knew by his every movement, from every line on his fair face, the man who was seated only several yards away was her father.
Author's Note: Again, I just wanted to insert a quick thank you to those who have been reading this story. Going into the Stats page and seeing that people all over the world are looking at your work is nothing short of incredible. As you can probably tell, this story is nearing its end. There are roughly three more chapters to go. I will be setting aside a weekend in the near future to conduct a revision before the final chapter is posted. I will also be conducting a search for a beta very soon. If you have been following this story and are interested in assisting me with editing, I would be thrilled to work with you. New chapter tomorrow! Humbly, L.S.