The Reverend's Daughter (Book 2 after The Duke's Daughter)

Chapter Eight Part 3

Violet gave Betsy nigh onto an hour to bathe. When he returned to his cabin, he could hear nothing coming from inside, he wondered if he should knock or just enter. He lifted the latch and opened the door slightly to peek in. The babes were still sleeping peacefully, their angelic faces bore no trace of turmoil, which he was very relieved to see.

Nightmares were a common occurrence after one of these ordeals, that is why Vi encouraged Davey to sleep in the cabin with the boys. Davey had a way with them that Vi was ever grateful for. Violet did wish Davey had not had to grow up so quickly, but the fact that most of these children had lost at least one parent, if not both, Davey could understand, and he was a very good listener. It did please Vi when Davey could seem to forget his prior burdens, and run amuck with the other boys. Everyone was entitled to their childhood, and Vi did not want Davey to miss out on his.

Vi had just left the boy's cabin, all was well, Jonah had fallen asleep, his thumb in his mouth, content in having his brother near him. Timothy and Davey were speaking softly, exchanging life histories, so Vi had left them to talk themselves to sleep.

Most of the crew had rowed ashore, choosing to sit around the campfire, glad for a chance to relax after their very hard day's work. Vi was extremely pleased with their efforts, as the Wench looked better than she ever had before. His ship had a different feel already. Vi realized, he too, had a different feel already, as all he wanted to do was to find and hold his wife. He found it interesting, how something he had not even had yesterday, was now so vitally important to him today.

He entered and closed his cabin door very softly, then he tiptoed to the bedchamber door, where he knocked quietly upon it. After a minute or so with no answer, he gently pushed it open, to find his Kitten curled up on the bed. She had her bible open next to her, however, her eyes were closed in slumber. Violet smiled ruefully, noticing that her nightgown covered every inch of her, from neck, to wrists, to ankles. His little puritan had fallen asleep reading her good book. He picked up her bible and very carefully, so as not to disturb her, he stretched out beside her on his belly, propping the book up on a pillow in front of himself. He turned it over to see what she had been reading, He almost laughed, he put his fist to his mouth so no noise would escape, as he began to read the Songs of Solomon.

She had been studying. Vi did chuckle, softly, deep in his chest. He looked beside him, at his sleeping beauty, he was pleased that her last waking thoughts had been about him, and love, and wanting to learn more about passion. He read a few of the chapters himself. He was not sure how much information she had actually acquired from these writings of gazelles, and goats pouring down mountainsides. At least she was interested enough to try to find out. He was glad the book was not more detailed, as he planned to keep her in the dark just a little while longer.

As he read, he realized it was not a bad book to read for the wooing he was planning on doing, yet he could only imagine her laughter if he were to tell her that her hair was like a flock of goats, her teeth like shorn sheep. He shook his head as he smiled. Mayhap he should read some more and see if he could find some better illustrations. He turned back to the beginning. Kisses and wine, now that was better. That he could do.

He closed the book and set it beside the bed on a small chest. He rose and donned a nightshirt, he was glad he had one, as he normally slept in the nude. He could only imagine the lesson she would learn if she awoke, and got a peek at the rest of him. He was relieved after his talk with Brutus, he could not wait to start wooing his own wife. First off, he would suggest the swimming lessons, as that was vitally important for her to know. Wine, water, what was the difference? Kisses and water would work just fine for him.

He blew out the candle and lay on his back beside her. She stirred in her sleep, her hand reached out, settling low on his belly. His eyes darted furtively to her hand, then to her eyes, as to assure himself she still slept. He then raised her hand, placing it on his heart. He held her hand and closed his eyes. He had not realized how very tired he was after the day's events. The day had carried so many emotions with it, he was physically and emotionally drained. All that remained was her hand in his, thanks in his heart, and he found he was looking forward to the morrow, after a good night's rest.