Andrews’ dock was on the north shore of his property, and I sailed straight for it. The sun was just graying the horizon, plenty of light for me to sail by. Once my ship was secured, I opened the secret compartment under my bunk that held the beautiful embroidered dress and caressed the threads, admiring my work again. Carefully, I rewrapped the dress and petticoats in the clean fabric.

My hair had lost some of the sheen and lightness Guillaume had beaten into it. I brushed it out and reviewed myself as best I could in my broken cabin mirror. I was sleep-deprived and thin, with bags under my eyes and hollow cheeks, but at least my hair was acceptable. I shook out the velvet dress Mom had given me. As I sailed back here, I’d reworked the design into a simple A-line pattern semi-appropriate for the time. It was not as full or decorated as the other women’s were sure to be, but it would do. Time to get dressed. I sighed. Today I was to be a lady.

I layered on a freshly-laundered shift and corset and added petticoats. Together it all shaped and billowed out Mom’s rich velvet gown until I was confident and “wedding-ready” for a day in 1649. I put on my soft designer boots and remembered how, just a few weeks ago, they had squeezed against my swollen calf. That wound was mostly healed now. With all the weight I’d lost in prison and on my solo boat rides through the portal, the boots were more than roomy enough. In fact, everything was too roomy. I’d need to see what I could do about getting better nutrition before I lost too much more muscle.

Time to get off the ship, Anne, I pressured myself, but my feet were acting stubborn. It’s not like I could hide here. Before long, the household would wake up to the sight of my oh-so-familiar ship docked in its oh-so-familiar place, and I’d be found out. Move, Anne.

How was it that I walked free and easy into taverns loaded with pirates and danger and yet this bright manor in the sunrise caused me distress? I gritted my teeth and lifted the embroidered wedding dress in one arm. In my other arm was the sack that held the many presents from my mother and the one very small one from me – something for her to borrow. Izzy was somewhere up there. Andrews was up there too. I was confident about neither reception. I silently promised my ship that I would be back soon and took a step away from assured safety.

How many times can one person leave a place? How many times can she come back? I knew every inch of this estate, my feet knew each and every footfall. I did not have to think about where I was going. I was going home. The dining room entryway flew open, and Amelia beamed at me from the dimly-lit interior.

“Auntie!” The beautiful girl wrapped me in a hug. “I knew you’d be back.” 

She might as well have knifed me in the gut. All too soon there’d be a time when I left and would never walk through these doors again. I held her tight.

“I had some trouble in St. George’s,” I told her. 

She helped me put my items on the table and led me into the kitchen. Just as my sister would have done, she brought me a mug of coffee and a little plate of food. She and Angelica were just warming the ovens for breakfast. Soon the whole space would be filled with loaves of bread, pastries, and doughnuts for the whole estate to come and break their fast.

“Auntie Von told us you were in prison there.” She lightly ran her fingers over the bandages of my still-healing wrists.

“I wish you had stayed here. We would have taken care of you.”

“I know, Amy.” They need you to say yes just as much as I do. Amelia was a gentle soul. She was kind to all the spiders in her kitchen and to the butterflies on her flowers yet could butcher a chicken without blinking. “I hope I didn’t worry you.” I held her hands till she could meet my eyes and put a small smile on her face.

“I know you are strong.” Her eyes drifted back to my wraps.

“Almost as strong as you.” Now she smiled in earnest. “This,” I held up the small pastry, “is delicious. Did you make it?”

“Yes! The lady staying with us – she’s getting married today – she taught me about using figs in the pastry. She had so many good things to say about the knives you gifted me.” Amelia got up and was dancing about the kitchen much the same as I remembered Izzy doing at about her age. The sudden allusion to my sister knocked the wind out of me. Izzy had been right here. Izzy had been in this kitchen, using those knives, teaching this girl about pastries.

Izzy was upstairs.

Andrews was upstairs.

I owed both of them explanations.

“The gifts on the table, they’re for her wedding,” I told the young chef.

“Lady Isabelle will love them, I’m sure! Perhaps when she’s up, I can introduce you?”

“In truth, I know Isabelle very well. She’s my sister.”

Crash.

Amelia and I both turned to observe Angelica, just steps inside the kitchen, now surrounded by dropped pots and pans. Amelia sprang to her aunt’s side and picked up the iron implements.

“Auntie, you’ve never mentioned family. I wish we had known, there’s so much—”

“Amelia, go find your mother.” Angelica interrupted her. Amelia ducked her head and left the kitchen.

“Angelica—” I started.

“She didn’t tell us and we didn’t know.” Angelica slammed a written recipe down on her worktable. The writing on it was Izzy’s. She began assembling ingredients. “Yvonne told us she arrived on your ship. Andrews said she spoke with your accent, she knew your words. We are hosting the lady’s wedding – ”

“Angelica, please—”

“She didn’t tell us. She didn’t tell us because she didn’t know about us. Just like we didn’t know about her.” The woman aggressively refilled my coffee. “Do we mean so little to you? Does Andrews?”

“Angelica, please. It’s not like that. You know you all mean the world to me.”

“But just don’t tell the world we are here, is that it? Where in heaven’s name does she think you’ve been her whole childhood?”

“I visit her as often as I can.” Angelica scoffed at my response and put a plate of sausages and crepes in front of me. Ah, guilt and pastries; it was good to be home.

“And of course Andrews behaved atrociously.” Angelica began beating her frustrations into a mass of dough. “If he had known she was your relation – he might have at least saved that plate. I loved that set of dishes.” She was upset, and I knew it wasn’t entirely about her dishes. Angelica was affected deeply by her family’s behavior. She took our behavior as a reflection on herself. When Yvonne, myself, and Andrews were particularly uncouth and wild, Angelica would spend every meal lecturing the three of us and do little things out of spite like refuse to make pasta for a month.

“I’ll replace the dishes,” I assured her. Clearly the broken dish was my fault – how, I didn’t know yet (I was sure Angelica would let me know as she loved blaming me for things). Whatever, I’d replace it anyway.

“The ones with the tiny flowers and birds.” Angelica was still pounding away.

“I know.”

“Anne.” Helene summoned me from the dining room entry. The principal had arrived. I left my plate and coffee and went to take my medicine.

She sat in her chair at the table, and I went to mine.

“You may not ruin this wedding.” She leveled a finger at me.

“I don’t ruin—”

Helene scoffed and sat back.

“I brought gifts.” I gestured to the items in front of me. “I mean to make this affair as pleasant as possible.” As stupid as this wedding was, I wasn’t going to ruin it for my sister. She would look back on it fondly.

“You will be perfect. You will ensure Andrews comports himself as the consummate host and gentleman. When you sit down for breakfast, you will be the picture of charm and grace.” What the hell had Andrews done that I was in so much reflected trouble because of it?

“I will,” I assured her.

“The household is waking. Make your way upstairs or make your excuses and leave. If you choose to stay, promise me that you will be a credit to this family.” The formidable woman didn’t wait for my response. She stood and made her way back to her house in the early morning light.

Izzy would be upstairs in the west wing of bedrooms in the room Andrews reserved for visiting noblewomen. If I turned right at the top of the staircase, I could climb into bed with Andrews and delay being face to face with my sister for an hour...or two...or three. There was still the chance that she would refuse to have me anywhere near her and send me away. If that was the case, there was no need to wake Andrews from a sound sleep.

Left. I turned left.

I steeled myself to accept any verbal abuse Izzy intended to rain down on me and knocked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I should leave.

A small woman answered the door. “May I help you?” The young woman was still in her night clothes and partially hid herself behind the door.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Lady Isabelle. Can you direct me to her room?” I knew this house inside and out, and this was supposed to be the room for celebrated guests. Maybe Izzy had opted for one of those ridiculous tents outside. I knew how she felt about this place.

“The lady is not yet awake. I am her maid. I can help with anything you require.” The young woman stifled a yawn. 

Behind her a small girl – couldn’t be older than twelve or thirteen – stirred under a pile of blankets. How many people were in this room? I had planned on seeing Izzy alone, not surrounded by an entourage of strange women. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.

“Lady Isabelle’s captain has arrived and would like to speak with her.” I put some authority behind my voice to cow the young woman…it worked a little too well. The small maid’s face displayed shock...and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. At any rate, she opened the door and directed me to the nearest chaise. I was in. 

The room was chock-full of expensive wedding gifts, and suddenly my small sack of trinkets felt decidedly inadequate. I held the gown tighter. I knew what the garment meant to me, but in the midst of all this finery, perhaps she’d want something else, something less...less me.

“I have some gifts for the lady as well,” I said before the maid could disappear. I indicated my sack and she gestured to the pile. Right. Stupid. Why would my gifts need to stand out at all? I slid the small sack over with my foot.

“Anne?” Izzy's voice, rough and wary, sounded from the dark doorway to the bedroom. She moved into the light slightly. She was scared. She was scared of me. I felt like shit, but I’d committed to being here and so I’d take my medicine.

​“The lieutenant invited me. I hope you don’t mind.” I attempted a calm smile and didn’t move. Izzy still looked ready to bolt. “I’m not going to take you away.” I put my hands up, open, nonthreatening. She needed more. “I heard you when you said you were building a life here. I’m not going to leave you either. Not unless you tell me to go.” Which she might, I cautioned my expectations. 

She was choosing her new family now, and despite what Mom said about adding people to her life instead of subtracting them, there was every chance Izzy would take this opportunity to replace me with someone who could actually protect and care for her. Someone who wouldn’t kidnap her.

Izzy broke from her trance and embraced me in a hug I didn’t realize I needed. I missed her. I wrapped my own arms around her and held on for dear life.

“Thank you, Anne,” Izzy cried into my shoulder.

“I love you, Izzy,” I whispered quietly so the others in the room couldn't hear. Two more faces had appeared at the bedroom door. 

There were few people in this world who openly and willingly touched me. I spent most of my life starved for physical touch; hugs like this quickly overwhelmed me. I’d need to ease back into how effusive my sister was. I backed away for a moment to recover. 

“I brought you a dress. I didn’t know if you had one.” I unwrapped part of the gown and held it out for her. 

The four other girls in the room rushed me, and I put my instincts on lockdown so as not to strike them as they swarmed me and took the garment. The maid produced a clothes valet from thin air and displayed the entire thing, petticoats and all, for the women to admire. I recognized one of the women as Lady Catherine, the young wife of the asshole who was so fond of throwing me in prison. 

They oohhed and aahhed over the gown, and I felt oddly warm to this funny group of females for their admiration. Years of effort went into this gown. They were enthralled with the intricacy of the embroidery and imaginative depictions of faraway lands. I have to admit I got swept up in their joy and found myself smiling and pointing out different elements of the dress to them. It was an unexpected treat to have my work praised like this. I actually found myself telling a detailed story of how I acquired the thread for certain details in a middle-eastern bazaar.

Izzy stayed back behind the jumping, exclaiming girls. I turned to check on her, wondering if she was disappointed with the gown.

“Wow. You really did go home,” she accused. 

I backed away from the other girls and wondered how to defend myself. I had needed to escape, and I had seized my opportunity. Was coming back here for her significant enough of a gesture to erase that sin? I loved Izzy but not so much that I would stay chained to the wall in a disgusting prison forever for her. I’ll take my punishments, but I’ll also take my chance at living when given the opportunity – show me the person who wouldn’t. 

“Marchaud’s, right?” Izzy asked, indicating the newly-cleaned dress. Marchaud’s were our dry cleaners back home.

“You saw Mom?”

“She sent you something.” No sense denying the proof of my homegoing. I opened the small sack of gifts and pulled out the ridiculously extravagant card Mom had written Izzy. I had argued with her over the stationery choice and begged her to choose different paper, different ink, less silver, but she’d have none of it. She was writing her daughter this card, this way, and that was the end of it. I’d relented, banking on the assumption that when I delivered it to Izzy, she’d be alone. This clown car of a bedroom would make it much more difficult to hide and subsequently burn this damning evidence of the future.

Izzy took the card back to her bed in the early morning sunshine and welled up reading each word. I stood in the doorway watching her. She shouldn’t be here. This was wrong. She should be with her mother on her wedding day, not four strangers and a murderer, four hundred years before she was even born. The journal didn’t lie, though. I had been blown to times and tides I was unprepared for and suffered greatly for it. The brand on the back of my neck was only the start of it. It was wrong to take her, it was wrong to leave her; it would have been worse to let her face all of this alone and unprepared.

All that was left to me was to work with what I had. I was here now, and I would stay just as long as I could. Today that meant watching my sister marry a ghost. The young lieutenant had given me my marching orders, and I was going to follow them. I would behave, and I would be there for my sister, to support her through this and catch her when it all fell apart.

I walked into the room with the sack of trinkets and sat next to her on the bed. “Come on. There’s more. Let’s get all the tears out at once.” I pulled out the gifts, one by one, which Mom had labeled “old,” “new,” and “blue.” There was a veil, a pair of shoes, and some earrings. They each dropped like bombs on her. I sat patiently as she absorbed the impacts of these items and squeezed the last gift in my hand. She wouldn’t understand it. I knew there was no way she would understand. In order for her to understand, I would have to crack open secret vaults so sunken and protected it might kill us both to dredge them up.

“This one isn’t a gift. It’s something for you to borrow.” I opened my hand and pulled out the small seashell with a tiny hole drilled through it and laced with tough braided grass. It wasn’t pretty enough for her, but I tied it to her wrist anyway. I’d only tied it on one other person, and it wasn’t pretty enough then either. “I got it a long time ago. I thought maybe you’d think it’s nice.” 

I watched the small shell dangle from her wrist and worked hard to pull my hand away. Regardless of whether I ever saw it again, this tiny thing should not hold such sway over me. Maybe I should have just given her my silver helmet instead. I almost reached for it back but checked myself just in time. Izzy would take good care of it. Still, my stomach flipped as I parted from the small shell. Izzy politely nodded her thanks. It paled in comparison to all her other gifts, I’m sure. I was stupid. I should have given her a jewel or something.

The skinny little girl who I'd mistaken for a pile of blankets earlier interrupted the moment to pull Izzy away from me to admire the gown. The oblivious little urchin, couldn’t she see we were having a moment? Izzy was too polite to refuse her, so she let the girl lead her into the sitting room and point out various pieces of embroidery on the gown. I stayed back by the doorway to the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. This wasn’t my crowd. I didn’t belong with them.

“Anne,” Izzy turned back to me, “this is incredible! Did you do this?”

“Yeah. I had some time on my hands.” I grinned and shrugged. I brought that gown out almost every time I sailed and added more details to it. Stitched into it was my life story in pictures and thread. If you looked closely, you could see elements of every place I’d been, everyone I’d met, the important moments, and the small and wonderful ones. I didn’t have a journal, I had that dress.

Izzy’s maid brought out refreshments. My sister sat me next to her on the chaise and made me participate in the conversation. If it weren’t for all the dressing gowns and lack of electricity, we could have been sitting around the pool house after one of her massive sleepovers. 

Lady Catherine’s handmaid brought in a round of drinks and coffee, and I loosened up a little and offered stories about the dress. They were fascinated when I told them the fabric came from a port in Shanghai and that I’d saved it in my rowboat after a storm capsized my ship off the coast of Jakarta. I’d been so pissed at Zheng that day. It was my ship, I was captain, she sucked at taking orders.

“And you’re going to let me wear it for my wedding? That’s amazing. Thank you so much,” Izzy asked, somewhat breathless.

“I’m going to let you have it. It’s yours. You deserve it,” I told her. Izzy had accused me that even my secrets had secrets. Well, there they all were, every secret I ever had was sewn into that gown. Even an abstract map of the portal current wound around and through all the pictures. Until I could bear to speak my secrets out loud to her, this was the best I could do. She hugged me again. I guess I could get used to this. I hugged her back.

Loud, pounding footsteps sounded outside in the hallway, and a muffled bass voice demanded, “Where is she?” Then more running. I held my breath. He’d seen my ship. The doors to Izzy’s sitting room flung open, and Andrews, disheveled and wild, shouted, “Nanette!” His face broke into a blinding smile.

“Graham,” I whispered, physical relief engulfing me just at the sight of him. 

He had me in his arms in two steps and swooped me up. We landed on Izzy’s recently vacated bed, and he laid me down and covered me with his long, strong body. He kissed me. His arms were tight around me, full of pressure and desire. He nuzzled into my neck, kissing every part of me his lips could reach. His hands ran up and down my arms and chest, hitched my leg up around his hip. 

I had spent the better part of two months in lonely torment on a prison cell floor. How many times had I had to let him go? How many times had I tried to say goodbye? Graham held my face for a moment before kissing me again, gently at first and then deeper and with intention. I let the world spin away as we delighted in having each other so close and wanting. I missed this man so much when I wasn’t with him, and it was electric to hold on to him now.

Izzy cleared her throat dramatically from somewhere over Graham's back. “Mr. Andrews, if you wouldn’t mind? You are interrupting! And we are none of us dressed to receive men at this hour.” He paused only a moment and grinned down at me.

“She doesn’t like me,” he breathed into my ear.

“My sister doesn’t know you like I do.” I smiled and lightly kissed his lips.

“Sister?” He groaned and dropped his head to my chest and crawled off me. “I’ll wait for you outside. Not too long, Nanette, yes?”

I kissed him again and sent him out. “Not long at all.”

Izzy stood there incredulous and irritated. “I know,” I told her, trying to forestall an argument. “But you aren’t the only one I left. I’ll be right back.” My heart pounded as I quickly walked out of the room, eager to finish what we’d started. Graham caught me round the middle and pushed me up against the wall, kissing me firmly and keeping me in place.

“Dammit,” he said, taking a breath. “Sister?”

“Sister,” I confirmed. He growled and pulled me towards our bedroom. Graham had me unlaced and in our bed in record time. His clothes had barely made it down the hall and through the door. Only when we were both stripped bare and lying skin to skin on the sheets did he relax and begin to take his time. “May I stay here for a little while?” I asked as I clasped my hands behind his neck.

“Stay here forever.” He breathed the words against my lips as he raised himself over me. “Open those legs for me now, Nanette.” 

And I did.

​

****

​

The sun was high in the sky when we finally finished. I lay satiated next to Graham in bed, letting him trace circles on my areolas with one hand and listening to the wedding preparations in the garden below. I leaned in and kissed him, wanting more of the closeness I had lacked for so long.

“Marry me, Nanette,” he hummed in my ear as he softly ran his fingertips over my wrist wraps.

I turned my head so that my lips were to his ear but said nothing, just took his ear lobe gently in my mouth, nipping it just a little.

He pulled me up and astride him and held onto my hips. “You’re not saying no,” he said.

​

“How about, for just this very moment, I keep not saying no?” I leaned in and kissed him lightly, knowing he’d be frustrated with that answer. He brushed his hands over my skin, but we were both sated and didn’t take it farther. I relaxed next to him, and we listened to the crash of the waves and the birds and the wind and all the preparations below.

“Just for this moment then,” he agreed and brought me into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I held him too, feeling as at home and calm as I did on my ship. I loved him as I would a husband. Graham closed his eyes, and soon his breath came steady and deep.