As soon as Violet made his plea, the rain began to taper off. The rolling sea slowly calmed and the dark clouds parted.
Betsy noticed the radiant slice of sunshine that suddenly streamed through the window warming her back.
She turned to look out the glass behind her, her eyes shining with joy, when she saw the stretch of blue skies and fluffy white clouds.
The dark, heavy, rainclouds were slowly moving out to sea.
"I am going to find Violet." Betsy stated suddenly.
The two women smiled down upon their work and nodded, though Betsy was already making her way through the door.
**************************************************
Violet sat at one end of the long wooden tables on the mess side of the galley. Marcus sat across from him, and Brutus sat to his side. Michaels completed their foursome. They were also accompanied by another two groups of men and boys, that were playing cards, and jokingly socializing as they waited out the storm.
Paulie had gone to his cabin with Jonah to nap, and Ellie had brought aboard more cider and sweets for the crew, of which they were partaking while they played.
"So what is this I heard about you kissing a penguin, Brutus?" Marcus was hoping to throw Brutus off his game, as Marcus and Vi were losing.
Brutus and Michaels had retained the upper hand so far, and it looked as if their luck would continue.
Brutus turned a scathing glare upon Violet. "Really?"
He then turned to Marcus with a grin, "Nice try, old man, you shall still lose to our superior skill." Brutus slapped down a winning card and took the hand.
"Well played, Brutus." Michaels, his teammate, praised.
"Thank ye, partner." Brutus dipped his head in recognition of his boon.
Violet knew the moment she entered the room, his back to the door and all, he felt when her presence entered his.
He smiled as he remembered the scene in the hallway a bit ago. It had taken him some moments to collect himself and be any kind of decent company at all. But now, as she came into the space where he was, he felt a completeness that had been missing when he left her.
He turned and met Betsy's eyes as she walked towards him, he rose and took her hand, holding the ends of her fingers loosely in his, he toyed with her fingertips as he soaked up the sight of her.
"The rain has stopped, Violet." She smiled up into his eyes that shone down into hers.
It was true, he had not noticed the seas had calmed, that the ship no longer rocked against the quay.
"Did you want to go now?" He asked of her.
"Yes, please, I would like to be ready to leave for London whenever you want, so let us go now, if 'tis fine with you. I am ready." Betsy's eyes were shining up into his so sweetly, he bent and kissed her quickly, leaving a smile upon her face as he withdrew.
Violet addressed his crew, "I am going ashore for a bit, men, it seems the rain has stopped and we will be on our way soon. Any last moment things should be taken care of."
The men and boys stood, preparing to clean up and make ready to sail in the near future.
Violet took Betsy's hand and they went top deck to check the temperature.
It was still a bit chilly, they would both need outerwear before departing the ship.
Going belowdeck again, to their own cabin, they swept through where the women were working, both to acquire something warmer to don. Betsy closed the door to their bedchamber behind them.
Betsy shed her dress and pulled on her breeches, tying them off, she then pulled on her boots. She went to the bureau and collected a linen shirt, pulling it over her head and then smoothing the material down, before strapping on her belt. She pulled a coat out of the hanging compartment and turned to see Violet standing near the door, his coat over his arm, watching her move about and ready herself.
His eyes were full of warmth and love, causing her body to move directly to him of it's own accord.
"Ready, Kitten?" He held his hand out to her, she placed her own within his, then they went through the ladies workroom again and then up, emerging into the sunshine above.
They shrugged on their coats as they started across the planks.
Violet followed her across deck and down the ramp, then placed his hand on her lower back, to escort her up the docks.
The shopkeepers were pushing their carts out onto the walk in front of their stores, so Vi and Betsy waited patiently for the flower cart to be set in place.
Betsy looked at the daisies and carnations, roses and irises, wandering her way all the way around the cart.
"Excuse me, Mister Rowland," she asked the shopkeeper, as he made to return into his store. "Do you by chance have any violets?"
"I do, inside, come along with me, Miss Elizabeth." The short, round, jovial man held the door for them, as Violet followed Betsy inside.
Vi smiled at the idea that she wanted violets to take to her Papa, it even touched his heart so poignantly, he felt a quick moisture come to his eyes.
Violet placed a hand on the small of her back, accompanying her to the rear of the shop, where small potted plants were lined up on shelves along the wall.
There was one short row of violets, all in small, ceramic, decorated pots. Betsy found the spray she wanted and cradled the vessel in her hands.
"Those are the one's ye be wantin' then, Miss Elizabeth?" The shopkeeper accepted her nod, refused Violet's payment, then followed them out of the store. "Tell your Papa hello for me, my dear. And come by on your way back, I shall have something special for you."
Miles Rowland had known Betsy all of her life, he loved the little miss, as all who had attended her Papa's church did. She had helped Miles in the past, along with her Papa, when need be. Such as the few days she had sold flowers for him, when he had suffered from the gripe, or other times when there had been a wedding or death.
The miss had lent him an extra pair of hands, as she had a knack with arrangements and colors. And she had lent him her company, while they worked together, then her Papa would come, to help deliver the flowers to the church. When Miles had been sick, he had not had to shut his doors and lose business, he had even been able to make an additional donation to the church, on her behalf, because of her help.
Violet had seen the look in the shopkeeper's eyes when he had addressed Betsy, and it warmed him to know his wife was such a beloved part of this community.
"Lead the way, lovey, as I do not know where we are headed." Violet set his hand on her far shoulder, as she carried the little pot of violets in front of her.
She turned up a lane that lead away from the docks, yet it still followed along the shoreline. The ground sloped slightly uphill as the shops turned to residences, then all gave way to an open area around a little, white church. Violet could see there was a small cemetery nestled behind it.
Betsy turned her gaze to look up at Violet, as he noted the quaint, white chapel on the rise, with it's small stained glass windows that were edged in a simple, carved wood trim. Grasses surrounded the steepled structure, a few mature trees dotted the landscape here and there.
"This was my Papa's church." Betsy saw a peaceful look upon Violet's face as he saw where she had lived as a child.
There was also a bit of sadness in his eyes, that she knew came from his heart, that she knew was a feeling he felt for her, and her loss.
Lying to the left of them, towards the shore, was the parsonage where Betsy had been raised by her Papa.
Smoke rose from the chimney, indicating that a new reverend now lead this flock. Yet, Violet could picture a young Betsy, with her fresh, heart shaped face, her adorable freckles, and pigtails flying behind her, running along the well worn path between the cottage and the church.
"Do you think we could go inside for a moment before we leave?" Violet asked of her, as his gaze returned to the small chapel.
"The door is always open." Betsy smiled up at him as he walked by her side.
They continued on around to the back of the church, to where the gravestones lay in random rows. Some stones had sunken, lying a bit off kilter, but her Papa's was straight and plain.
Bernard Alexander Southerland
He led his flock on the narrow path
And that was all it said.
Violet took note of the ornate stone beside it, twice as big as Bernard's, carved with fancy curved letters and roses, it left testimony to Bernard's love for his wife.
Lady Penelope Hastings Southerland
Loving angel in life
Perfected in death
Violet was surprised, he had not known Betsy's grandmother was a Hastings, much less, that she had been a Lady.
She must have loved Bernard very much to live a simpler life than the Hasting's name, and wealth, allowed.
Betsy walked around Bernard's grave, holding the violets in the palm of one hand, she placed her other hand on the stone.
"Papa, this is Violet. I know that you already know who he is, but I wanted him to come and meet you." She looked up at Violet a little bashfully for a second, before setting her little pot of violets on the ground in front of the stone. She then came back around to take Vi's hand before she continued.
"The surprising thing to me, was that you had met Violet already, long ago." She turned serious eyes Violet's way for a second, before turning back, "Oh Papa, Lady Ellie told me what you did, and I may not have understood your actions then, but I do now, as Violet is very much like you." She felt Violet squeeze her hand, she gave him a smile, before squeezing his hand back and looking back to the marker. "We are married Papa," she whispered. "And very much in love."
She felt all of the pain of speaking to the ground and not to her Papa himself. She missed him so, the loving, gentle, wise man who had raised her, caring so much for her, and treasuring her all those years ago.
A tear traced it's way down her cheek, as she continued speaking so softly, Violet had to listen carefully to hear her words.
"I found him, Papa, I found the one you always told me to wait for," She breathed the last, "The man who cares for my soul."
Violet could not stop the tears that fell slowly from his eyes. He knew this man had, at one time, been everything to her. Now, he knew he held that honor, and he vowed right then and there to be worthy of her love. To always protect her and keep her safe. To always love her and do all in his power to make her happy.
He raised a hand and brushed the tears from her cheeks, then he turned her towards him and kissed her softly.
She reached up, and with a tremulous smile upon her lips, she used her thumb to rub the wetness from his own cheeks and chin.
Violet kissed her forehead, then held her head to his chest, as her arms moved around his waist. He turned his face to the marker where her grandfather's remains rested. He spoke softly and reverently, "I, Sir, am Violet Petals, and I adore your granddaughter. I thank you for the gift of her, for helping her become the truly wonderful woman she is. I love her more than I could ever have imagined, and she," Violet pulled back a small space, taking Betsy's cheek into his warm palm, as he gazed into her warm, honey eyes. " ......is simply everything to me. I make a vow to you here and now, that my every thought and decision will be including her, and how she may be affected. I promise to treat her as the gift from God that she is, and to never forget that."
Betsy smiled through her tears and hugged Violet tightly.
He swung her slowly from side to side, before swooping her off her feet. "T'was lovely meeting you again, Bernie, but I need your granddaughter now." Violet could swear, as he carried her off, that he felt the squeeze of a hand on his shoulder. He instantly knew when he looked down, and only Betsy's arm was draped over it, t'was Bernard's presence that he felt upon him.
Violet strode to the church, holding Betsy in his arms, as he shouldered the chapel door open, and crossed the threshold, going inside.
It was small and cozy, with only six pews on each side. The small windows allowing the light to shine through in muted pastel colors.
Violet walked to the front of the chapel and set her upon her feet in front of the alter. "Tell me where you used to sit for your Papa's sermons." Violet kissed her quickly and then raised his brow.
Betsy had giggled when Violet had swept her up, her tears all but forgotten, as she had looped her arms around his neck and breathed in his unique scent. He was always so spicy and good smelling.
When he put her down and asked to see where she had sat as a child, she was going to show him, until he kissed her. But once she had his lips on hers, nothing else mattered. She gripped his biceps, pulling him back, and kept him there.
She purred under his lips as he groaned.....
"Hhrruummpphh!" A throat clearing announced another presence in the room. "I know the door be open, but ye kinnot be usin' me church fer that."
Betsy laughed, as Violet turned and raised a brow at the outraged pastor.
"Reverend Mahoney, 'tis me, Elizabeth," Her laughter could be heard in her speech, as the reverend came forward, laughing gustily himself.
"I seen ye come in Missy, 'tis glad I am to see ye. Ye had Ellie all up in arms when ye disappeared like that." He took Betsy into his arms, and then stood back, eyeing Violet.
Violet's face radiated happiness as he looked between the two, and the parson was intrigued.
"Have ye wed, Missy?" He looked upon Betsy questioningly, she being so young, and quite unmarried months ago, made him wonder, yet the way they comported themselves led him to believe they were.
Betsy nodded and smiled at the familiar face that she loved. "I am, this is my husband, Violet, we have been wed more than a month now. I came up to introduce him to my Papa."
"Ah.......I see, an ye weren't even goin' ta come introduce him ta me?" He teased her.
"You have saved her the trouble it seems, I am very glad to meet you, Reverend." Violet bowed slightly, and when he stood tall again, the reverend hugged him and slapped him upon the back.
Violet grinned. He liked this man. He almost wished they could stay here and wed in this church.........in this town, with all of these people who loved her.
Wait! Why could they not? Katherine and Marcus, and the crew, save Josh, were all here, there was really no reason.....
"Violet, ......Violet?"
Betsy waved a hand in front of his face.
Violet saw her hand, but he did not register that she was trying to tell him something, his mind was totally focused on his revelation. On her. On being truly wed by a man of God she knew and loved. In her Papa's church!
He could do this thing, he could be making her his wife in truth all of the time after that. "I think that 'tis a right fine idea."
Violet said this aloud without realizing he had.
"What is a fine idea, Violet?" Betsy was confused, Reverend Mahoney had just asked Violet if he had met the Lady Eleanor yet, but Violet had been worlds away.
"Forgive me, I was thinking on something else." Yet, it was a good idea if ever he had one. There was only one hitch, the pardon from the King. Did he really want to risk her purity, if, in the end, the King hung him for piracy?
Well, yes,..........he thought in that moment, that he did. He did not think she would mind either, really, if she knew there was more, and that he had been holding back from her.
"Violet!" Betsy admonished him once again.
Violet grinned at her, "I just had a brilliant idea!"
Betsy shook her head at her husband, a slight frown upon her face, as she looked to the reverend apologetically. "I am so sorry Reverend, he is not usually like this."
"A really, really good idea!" Violet interjected.
"Fine, are you going to share it with us, or are you going to float away again first?" Betsy was a bit miffed at his rudeness.
"I am not sure....." Violet answered, he wore a perplexed look upon his face.
"Violet! Violet! Whatever is wrong with you?" Betsy asked shortly, as he once again, drifted away.
Violet had just promised her grandfather, to weight and measure every thought concerning her carefully, and here he was, trying to rush into a decision. He needed to pray and await an answer, he supposed. Is that not how you work? Violet asked his maker.
Pretty much. Yes
Then that 'tis what I shall do! Violet still found the idea extremely inspired, and he thought he may have even been led by Bernard in the thinking of it. Would it not mean so much more to her to have the wedding here?
Betsy turned to Reverend Mahoney and huffed out a resigned breath, "Excuse me, Reverend."
She then took Violet's face in her hands and kissed him, until he grabbed her tightly, kissing her back, with all the passion his brilliant idea had inspired.
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