The King stood a little behind and to the side of Elizabeth. One side of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk, as Betsy hit the targets out in front of them. Near and far, one after the other, Betsy never missed once.
The range ran a span of twenty meters, the King wishing it were longer, as Elizabeth did not seem to be challenged at all.
"Your father and I would practice together every other morning," The King told her, "The off days were spent practicing swords."
The King remembered those days fondly, the exercise keeping them fit in body and mind. The banter and heady discussions he shared with Alex had been sorely missed.
"I am trying to learn the sword myself, I can wield the foil to a degree, yet the swords are heavy," Betsy admitted her weakness, "I can not support the weight of them for very long."
"It takes time, conditioning, and the right sword." The King imparted.
They moved back to sit upon a bench, Betsy laid the pistol down carefully on the seat next to the bag of shot that sat between them.
"The rifle the commander asked me to use was to my liking." Elizabeth's eyes shined in remembrance, "Violet, upon his own ship, tossed plates into the air as we shot at them from the Omega. I enjoy the challenge of a moving target....." Elizabeth giggled, "I have not told you of the rats, have I?"
"Rats!" The King looked upon her, horrified, yet also amused. "No, you have not, do tell."
"I suppose, if you have the time, I should start at the beginning." Elizabeth had not told him yet of her flight with Arianna that stormy night.
"I shall make time, start at the beginning." He nodded, smiling upon her indulgently, as she set forth to do just that.
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The Duke of Marlborough sat in a chair angled to the coffee table, as Violet sat upon the settee, flanked on one side by Ellie, and to William's amusement, on the other side, sat Kathleen.
William had given up trying to keep his wife from Violet. He resigned himself to the fact that she liked the young man, and there was not a darn thing he could do about it.
He could act the jealous fool over a man half his age, or he could sit and enjoy himself, watching his beautiful wife as she laughed and flirted harmlessly with Elizabeth's pirate.
William could not help but to like Vi himself, once Eleanor insisted upon telling them of the pirate's true deeds.
It was highly commendable what the young man had accomplished under his ruse these many years, William thought to himself, very commendable.
William would like to take part in such an honorable endeavor, one that not only gave the youngsters a home, but one that also trained them a trade for their future.
Having a grandchild of their own on the way, the Duke and Duchess' hearts were doubly touched by the plight of these unfortunate children that Violet hoped to give a home to.
"I would like to help you, Petals, your cause is definitely a worthy one." William noticed Kathleen shooting him a stunning smile. He could not help but to return it, "I will have to see what can be done to raise donations and assist you."
"I also, shall send a missive to the Marchioness," Kathleen added, her face glowing at her husband's interest in aiding Violet and Elizabeth, "Mayhap, Amelia could raise awareness and entreaty the other ladies to start collecting contributions, we will need a committee, so the assistance will be ongoing."
Violet smiled at Kathleen, he knew her personality, she was one to get things done quickly and very efficiently, from what he had seen in the past. "I was hoping you could help me, your grace."
Violet then looked to the Duke, "I would be honored by any help you could give."
"As I said, 'tis for a worthy cause." William nodded.
The Duke then exchanged a look with the Duchess, his eyes branding her skin, letting her know she would pay dearly for her flirtations with the younger man later.
The Duchess' eyes flirted boldly, however, they were now directed at William.
He snorted and chuckled at his brazen duchess, holding his hand aloft, she came to him immediately.
She sat upon the wide, cushioned arm of his chair, as William breathed his millionth prayer of thanks that he had her to hold again.
Kathleen smirked adorably at the Duke, and laid her hand upon his chest as she kissed his cheek.
William placed his near arm around his wife's waist and turned his attention to Ellie as she told them of her plans for the future.
William laughed, thinking upon Arianna and Betsy's escape from her charge.
He teased Eleanor that she would need to post guards around the estate, as she was not very adept at keeping track of two young girls, much less a houseful.
"Yes, well, there is only one Arianna." Ellie replied.
"Amen." The Duke, the Duchess, and Violet all said together.
Then thinking upon Elizabeth shooting at the commander, Ellie added, "And, thank goodness, there is only one Elizabeth."
Violet missed Elizabeth something fierce, he did not know how long he and Eleanor must stay here, but he would be very happy to leave first thing in the morning, if possible.
The butler came to stand in the doorway, begging their pardon, he announced dinner was ready to be served.
Violet stood, turning to assist Ellie in rising from the settee.
The Duke remembered the envelope that Violet arrived with, "Mister Petals, if you would please accompany the ladies," The Duke handed his wife off to the young man, "I shall join you all momentarily, I would take but a moment to see about the King"s business."
Violet inclined his head to the Duke, accepting Kathleen's hand upon his arm, he followed the butler, leading the ladies to the dining room.
William went to his study and sat behind his desk, the envelope in front of him.
Slitting the seal, he opened the packet to first find an invitation to a masquerade. T'was a ball the King was hosting in honor of Kathleen's return.
Of course, they would not miss that for the world.
Trent and Arianna would be there also, as would Will. T'was a great honor the King was bestowing. All a part of his campaign to make sure the peerage knew that the duchess was in the Monarch's good graces.
The other papers in the packet were legal forms. William skimmed over the pages, realizing they brought his holdings back to him that Admiral Miser had stolen.
Using the missing duchess as bait, insinuating he would help the Duke get her back, the Admiral had extorted all William had had to give.
Now that the man had hung upon the gallows, the King had seized Miser's holdings, taking back what was his, and returning to the Duke, and other peers, the monies they had lost to the man.
When William saw the papers for what they were, he laughed aloud, "I can build an entire wing of an orphanage if I so desire!"
William went into dinner an extremely happy man. Taking the invitation with him, he set it next to his wife. He bent and kissed her forehead, before taking his own seat and making an announcement, "You shall have your first donation, Mister Petals, as soon as we have enjoyed our meal with these lovely ladies."
The Duke set to eat his noon meal, as a richer, hungrier, and extremely grateful man.
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Betsy reached the part in her tale that told of when Violet had received his miracle. She spoke excitedly as her hands fluttered about in the air, "And after Violet saw the ship disappear, he knew he had experienced the grace of God," Her hands stilled and she looked up at the King, "He accepted the Spirit, and he was baptized, and everything." She spoke matter of factly.
"And everything?" The King asked, humor touching his voice.
"Yes, everything." Elizabeth smiled up at the King brightly, before bowing her head again to humbly explain.
"Now he prays," She watched the path below her feet, as they walked in the rose garden again, "He reads my Papa's bible, and he truly is a most wonderful husband to me."
The King could see her cheek blushing a lovely shade of rose.
Betsy continued to talk of Violet, whom she missed terribly, "He is very kind, he has a good heart, he is strong and he cares for others..... and he takes very good care of me."
"But he let you shoot at one of my men?" The King queried.
"Nooooo..... He did not." Betsy angled a saucy look up at him, "He did not know I hid in the nest."
"You hid in the nest? And you shot the commander's pistol from his hand at that distance?" Normally, he would be shocked, but he had now seen her shoot for himself.
"Oh posh," Elizabeth waved a hand in the air, "That was nothing, you should have seen the next one," She grinned up at him, "Right off the deck next to his boot, into a water barrel that sprung a leak on his leg."
The King snorted, then chuckled, "No one told me about that, that I would have cared to see for myself."
Elizabeth chuckled also, "It was funny," She sobered quickly, "Until he arrested me."
"I would have liked to have seen that also." The King grinned.
"Violet's crew, our men, would not let him near me," Elizabeth preened, remembering how their men had tried to protect her, "They were wonderful." Her grin convincing the King, that they were indeed wonderful men, being she thought so highly of them.
She went on to tell him of the group baptism, and then about Marcus and Chauncey, Brutus, Katherine, and Paulie. He had heard about Pete and Sam, Michaels, and Luke when she had recanted their brush with Redbeard.
She shared about Violet insisting on a sanctified wedding in her Papa's church, and then told him all of their encounter with the commander.
When her tale reached the end, the King had a better understanding of the ship, and also a better idea of the men who sailed her.
"Now you know all of me, and what I have done, and with who, I would like to hear about my father, if it pleases you." Elizabeth smiled, thinking of Violet as she phrased her request.
The King's eyes were warmed by fond remembrances as he shared stories of Alex and himself.
Close calls, jokes played upon one another, then he abruptly stopped walking and stood in place, as he told her about the day her father almost died.
They resumed walking, as he then told Betsy about the day Alexander had shared he found a woman he loved, and how he would like to travel to America, as a pastor. How Alex's brush with death had made him reassess his life.
Elizabeth had listened raptly, laughing at their antics, her eyes misting when the King was touched by a particularly strong emotion, then commiserating with the Monarch when he had lost his best friend.
It helped the King to ease his pain over the loss to be looking upon Alex's daughter. He had not spoken of these things to anyone, he had held his memories close to his heart and only brought them to mind occasionally.
He had not let anyone come close to him in a very long time, it hurt too much to lose someone, once he came to care so deeply.
Yet, he had become lonely. Lonely enough to strike up a conversation with a lowly Baron at the fencing master's studio.
Marcus was the first friend he had allowed himself since losing Alexander.
There had just been something in Marcus' demeanor, something also, had been in his eyes.
Marcus had needed a friend, it had been written all over his face and in his body language.
Before the King knew what he was doing, he had entered into a friendship that he ended up enjoying very much.
And Elizabeth was his friend's daughter in law. That part he liked.
He also liked Elizabeth, very much. She was a balm to his soul, she brought with her a fresh breeze that blew through the castle.
"I should get to my business, my dear, I shall see you later, early this eve." He escorted Betsy back to the castle, leaving her to her chocolate and cakes, as it was teatime.
He went to his inner sanctum and requested a man to summon Brutus Marks, of the Saucy Wench, to come pay homage to him and receive his pardon.
Elizabeth retired to her room where a tray of chocolate and cakes awaited.
Betsy stripped off her gown and the confining corset. Pulling the chemise over her head, she then padded in her pantaloons to fetch a pair of socks. She pulled on her shirt that once belonged to Violet, breathing a sigh of relief and comfort, as she sat to enjoy the chocolate she had become so fond of.
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Marcus entered Jude's study where Gwen lay upon the chaise.
He sat in the chair Jude kept by her side, as she closed her eyes to block his image from her sight.
"I know you can hear me, Gwendolyn, so I shall say my piece, regardless of whether you want to hear it or not."
She opened her eyes, the hatred that burned there was returned angrily by her husband.
"I can understand your wanting me dead, Gwen. I have come to the realization you are an evil woman only concerned with herself."
Gwen could think of nothing in response to that, as she had wanted him dead, and she still did.
"I can not understand, however, your desire to have my brother and nephew dead, also."
They were in the way, 'tis simply that, and no more.
"And how you thought to get away with it, that is something beyond my realm of comprehension." Marcus shook his head slowly, "I had not realized how very wicked you had become."
If you only knew the many times I fantasized about attending your funeral, the freedom I would have, the freedom to be with a man I loved, who loved me in return.
"I only came here to tell you good riddance, my dear. I will not be coming back, you will never have to look upon my face or hear my voice ever again."
Good, go away Marcus, and stay away, I have Jude here and would have you gone.
Marcus stood, "I am giving Alfred anything you have of value at the estate, all your other things will be given to charity."
Marcus looked down upon this nasty woman he had been chained to all these years.
"Die quickly, Gwen, and may God have mercy upon your soul, but I have a life to live, no thanks to you, and I will be about it as you leave this world."
He turned and left the room, feeling he had finished an ugly chapter in his life, more than ready to begin a sweeter, happier chapter with Katherine.
Gwen piled curses upon his head, calling him every name she could think of as he took his leave of her.
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Lord Ravenwood rode his steed, making good time to Marlborough without the encumbrance of a coach. Will preferred traveling by horseback, the sun upon his face, the breeze blowing upon him, cooling the effects from the sun's bright rays. He had set out early this morning, and had just come upon a scene in the wet earth that gave him pause.
He could tell a coach had stopped here recently, many hoof prints surrounded the ruts left by the conveyance. If he allowed his mind to picture what may have happened, it seemed the coach had been delayed by a very large group of riders. He dismounted and tried to get a better sense of what had occurred.
The hoof prints were large, and dulled, meaning the hooves had been muffled by cloth. The boot prints were many, most very large, and sunken, meaning the men had stood there a while. Will looked up and down the road, then mounting his horse once again, he tried to find where the riders had left the lane once their mission had been completed.
Highwaymen, if his instincts served him correctly, lawless men picking the bones of travelers, thieving and terrorizing the innocent, swooping in and catching them unawares. Will scouted as he rode, knowing the criminals were long gone by now, yet hoping he may find a clue as to where they went.
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:) Have a blessed day my lovely readers!