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

Chapter Twelve

After taking over the ship from Chauncey, Violet had fallen into a lifestyle he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with. He knew his crew risked hanging, if they continued on in this way and he did not want to push their luck any longer. These men were his family, and they were all risking their futures, not to mention their lives, if they were caught or killed while carrying out their present way of going about things. Bailey was dead, Violet now owed no man anything, he could mayhap break free of the chains that had previously bound him.

He knew that Betsy had been praying diligently that he could find a way to still help the orphans without the need to pirate. Timothy had brought a few things to the table, that Violet had spent a lot of time trying not to think about. The fact that his luck had ran well for so long, did not mean he had to push it to it's limits. He had not lost a man yet, and he sure as hell did not want to.

Betsy had naturally turned to prayer. She prayed that God would show Violet a way he could still help the unfortunate, without stealing or lying.

She knew her commandments, the laws handed down to Moses, and those were two that were written in stone.

She also knew that God saw Violet's heart, that He would forgive, yet Violet carried a growing burden in his heart due to the way he accomplished his goals. She prayed her husband could find another way, one that did not include risking his, or his men's lives, or her morals.

She was content to pray, trusting that something would happen to show them that way.

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They had been out to sea for a fortnight now, a routine had been established with the children, including the boys, that made the days run smoothly.

Violet rose in the early morning, checking in with Brutus at the helm, he then picked up the girl's breakfast from the galley, delivering it to his cabin. He would fetch Lila and Sarah from the children's cabin, tossing them into the furs with Betsy, where they usually shared their last night's dreams with her.

Their dreams were most often childish, happy ones, yet once in a while, they were not. Betsy would listen to their subconcious thoughts and laugh at the silliness, or soothe their fears. Sometimes they dreamed of their deceased parents, or of being back in that filthy cabin with the rats, aboard Redbeard's ship.

Betsy imagined it would take a while for the nightmares to dissipate, until the experience was but a distant memory. Like Zack and Phillip, she could only hope that time, and a sense of ongoing security, would help them to a full rocovery. They were also so young, she hoped they would eventually, not remember it at all. She knew she did not remember the voyage to her grandfather at three years of age, her earliest memories she did retain were at around five or six years.

Of course, she prayed about that also, it seemed that there were so many things on her list these days, she often fell asleep in Violet's embrace while still about her supplications.

The girls would rise after the dreams were shared, breaking their fast together, then readying themselves for the day ahead.

Once the mess tables had been cleared of the men's breakfast, Betsy and the children took over the room until dinner was served.

Using the dough, or drawing, Betsy would incorporate learning into their play. Counting, shapes, and basic letters were being learned by the wee ones, while the cabin boys went about their morning duties.

When their chores were done, Paulie took over the younger ones, while Betsy tutored the boys for a couple of hours. They worked on their grammar, and the basic subjects, reading, writing and numbers, once Betsy had assessed what they already knew.