Chapter One

Authors Note: This book follows The Duke's Daughter, by Jaidesmama (with permission), and does contain spoilers. I suggest reading DD first, as it is a wild ride and it tells the tale of how these two meet. It has been published and is available everywhere! Ebooks and physical copies can be found at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, I books Itunes... etc.

(Editing)

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The sea breeze felt as a warm caress upon Elizabeth's skin as she stood on the white sands absorbing the heat that radiated down upon her upturned face. Her eyes closed, her mind at peace, she finished her prayer before opening her eyes to gaze about her, revealing the pirate standing across the beach, leaning against a palm tree, his gorgeous, iris eyes trained firmly upon her. Elizabeth quickly dropped her shy gaze to the sands, wondering if God could possibly bless a relationship between herself and the stunning, pirate captain. Uncertainty crept in, as Elizabeth's lady had repeatedly advised against such a thing, yet, Elizabeth felt strongly drawn to the man in spite of her lady's repeated warnings.

Knowing she should respect Lady Arianna's wishes, Elizabeth looked up at the pirate longingly, before setting her mind to carry out her duties and trust God to lead her where He would. The winds that buffeted the island continuously created small windrows upon the sand, causing Elizabeth to drag her eyes from ogling the gorgeous man to watch where she trod as she set out to procure fresh water for her lady's evening rituals. As maid to her lady, Elizabeth always tried to anticipate Arianna's needs, though that was proving more difficult as the days went by, every day seeming to pull her away from her tasks and push her towards the gorgeous pirate that had sailed into her life so recently.

Firmly setting her mind to her chores, Elizabeth lifted the skin she would fill with freshwater, making her way into the jungle's lush growth to seek the pool hidden within. Her skin cooled as she entered the canopy, now being shaded from the warm sunlight, she purposely sought out patches of brightness that shone through the trees here and there along the path. Feeling a delicious warmness creep over her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the occasional radiances, Elizabeth felt eerily as though she were being watched. She stopped and looked all about her, smiling slightly as she saw the pirate stealthily making his way towards her through the thick growth of the jungle.

Elizabeth waited on the pathway, feeling joy at the chance to spend a few moments alone with him, yet feeling also a small bit of trepidation in knowing her lady would not approve. Her excitement and joy overtook the trepidation as he neared, his engaging smile brightening, spreading to his eyes as he came closer to where she stood. The pirate took the water skin from her hand to carry it for her as they began walking side by side on the trail in the direction of the stream fed pool they both knew to be out ahead of them. Not one word was spoken between them until reaching the clear water, whereupon the pirate filled the skin for her before setting it down on the ground at their feet. He gestured to a smooth boulder at the water's edge and once she was seated he went down on one knee before her. Taking her hand into his own, the handsome pirate pleaded, "Betsy, Betsy, come away with me."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to agree, but to her frustration, he then began to fade as a wisp in the wind as she tried her best to hold onto the intoxicating dream. She called out to him desperately, seeking all around her, but alas, he had faded completely away.

A deep feeling of loss coming over her, Betsy woke to the sound of Cook industriously banging his pots and pans, the smell of frying pork already permeating the tent where she slept. Carmelita was there, pulling her away from the dream that had left her feeling bereft.

"Betsy, Betsy." Carmelita spoke entreatingly, shaking Elizabeth's shoulder, she attempted to gently wake the sleep tousled maid.

"Mmmmm?" Elizabeth rolled to her back, looking sleepily up at her friend, noting the frown that marred Carmelita's beautiful visage. She sat up awkwardly, sweeping her hair from her face, rubbing her eyes awake with a thumb and a fingertip, she queried, "What is it, Carmelita?" Betsy continued to blink the sleep from her eyes, as a regretful Carmelita sat beside her and placed an arm around Betsy's shoulders.

"He has gone, Betsy." Carmelita held the maid comfortingly, hating to tell her the latest development, knowing Elizabeth would be very disappointed.

"Who is gone?" Betsy asked, confusion marring her brow as she looked inquisitively at the beauty beside her.

"The pirate is gone," Carmelita informed Betsy regrettably. "I am so sorry, Betsy. Violet Petals has gone, not only that, but he has dared to take the Green Eyed Lady."

Betsy bounded up in confusion, her mind scrambling for a denial while she dressed just as quickly as she could. Barefoot, she weaved her way around the other's things, sweeping the tent flap open forcibly. Betsy stepped out into the early morning sunshine to urgently search the coast in front of her.

Following Betsy from the tent, Carmelita's concern was evident. Her eyes searched the young maid's face as Betsy searched up and down the shoreline.

Gone?! How could the ship be gone? Betsy's eyes burned as she stared out at the wide expanse of sea before her. Whether they burned from the glare of the early morning sun, or the sudden tears that pricked at her eyes, Betsy did not know. All she did know, was that the Green Eyed Lady no longer sat at anchor where she had rested for the last sennight. Where only last eve had been a huge, three masted brigantine, was now only a wide, empty, endless expanse of blue. Violet had stolen the Green Eyed Lady? Betsy's heart dropped to the sands, her hands came up to cover her mouth, she shook her head and stumbled backwards, "It cannot be...". Her disbelieving eyes turned to her friend. "He would not..."

Carmelita placed a supportive arm around Betsy's shoulders, she patted Betsy's arm softly and clucked her tongue. "He did, and I am sorry." It was all Carmelita could think of to say.

Had he truly left her? Looking down the shoreline in desperation, seeing the pirate's ship still at anchor beyond the waves, Betsy could see Carmelita's husband, Pedro, in a skiff, heading out to the pirate ship, the Saucy Wench. Up further, upon the beach, Betsy saw some of the pirate's crew, apparently left behind, their hands bound behind them while they sat on the sands. Nay, it can not be true! Stepping away from her consoling friend, whirling about, Betsy then searched the other way up shore to the rocks that hid a beach beyond where she and Violet had spoken privately only last night. Nay, please, let it not be true!

Hoping for answers, Betsy lifted her skirts and hurriedly made her way over to the crew. "Where is your captain?" She asked the first mate desperately. Her skirts bunched up in her fists, she was hoping that Violet Petals did not make a habit of abandoning his men.

"I believe the horse's ass was headed southerly the last time I saw him." The first mate was frustrated, he blew a strand of ebony hair away from his mouth while his baby blue eyes were narrowed in annoyance.

Backing up in dismay, Betsy could not believe that Violet would capture her heart only to then abandon her, as she could have sworn that he cared for her, just as she knew she cared for him. Why else would he have asked her if she would leave with him when he departed? She shook her head dazedly, then looked southerly to the way he had supposedly gone, she then looked back out to sea where the ship was no longer. Bewildered, she turned and began stumbling away from the angry crewmen and Carmelita, confusion clouding Betsy's mind in that he apparently had left her behind, right along with his own crew mates. Betsy dashed at the tears blinding her eyes and looked down at the sand she traversed in consternation. Would he, mayhap, come back for them? Betsy felt a tiny spark of hope. He could. He could come back, and if she prayed hard enough, mayhap, he would.

Carmelita and Brutus, the Wench's first mate, both watched with narrowed eyes as Betsy turned, stumbling, heading for the far end of the beach. Shaking her head in frustration, Carmelita wished ill upon the pirate captain, Violet Petals, for trifling with Betsy's feelings. Seeing the small maid's head cast down, her shoulders slumped dejectedly, Carmelita felt suddenly as a mama lioness. Her visage turned fierce, her thoughts unkind. If she could only get her hands on that damn pirate, she would skin him alive for hurting Betsy such as he had. Unknowingly, Carmelita's glare had focused upon Brutus, her mind occupied with flaying his captain.

"What have I done?" Brutus asked testily. He had not stolen the damn ship after all. Yet, Brutus knew he was seen guilty by association in the Spanish beauty's eyes, just as he had already been found guilty by her husband who had neatly trussed him up. "I did not do a damned thing." Brutus grumbled aloud. "I told your husband, and I am telling you, he will be back."

Carmelita came back to the present with his words and moved away from the frustrated pirate, understanding his ire, knowing she could do nothing save respect her husband's wishes and leave the pirates as they were. She hoped the man was right, that Violet Petals would return, if only so she could tell him he played with fire. The small maid may not have the spine to give him an earful, but Carmelita surely did, and she would if given the chance. If the trifling man dared to return after hurting Betsy, Carmelita vowed, he would have to live through her wrath after her husband's ire was played out.

Carmelita went to beseech Cook for some tea, the least she could do was follow Betsy and support her for the time being. Mayhap a cup of warm tea and firm assurances she was better off without him would help. While waiting for Cook, Carmelita watched Betsy pick her way around the point, Carmelita only hoping the girl did not go too far before she could catch up with her.

Betsy was to the rocky outcropping when she heard her lady's laughter. Looking around the point, Betsy could see her lady, Arianna, far down the beach, splashing in the shallow surf with her betrothed. Betsy looked back out to sea, just to assure herself the ship was still missing, then she looked back to Arianna and Drake playing in the waves as though nothing were wrong. Did Drake not realize that his ship was gone? Betsy wondered at this, as she began picking her way through the rocks, why would Pedro not have told him first off? Hugging the point, avoiding Arianna and Drake by keeping to the cliff, Betsy made her way to the hidden grotto she and Violet had occupied the eve before. Sitting on the rock where Violet had sat last eve, trying to remember the words that passed between them, she wondered what she could have possibly missed. He had given her no clue he planned to leave, much less that he planned to steal Drake's ship, why, Violet had even asked her if she would consider going with him when he did go. She had already decided she wanted to, more than anything, and yet, now he was gone. Had she missed her chance by not agreeing immediately? Betsy tried not give in to despair, she decided to buck up and have faith, she hoped that he would return soon whilst she earnestly prayed to God to bring him back.

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Violet Petals felt invigorated as he had not in a long time. He laughed aloud in the stinging spray, experiencing something he had never experienced before, finding himself fully appreciating the joy of steering a ship that actually sailed as if it wanted to sail. The Green Eyed Lady sluiced smoothly through the water as her wheel played out gently in his hands. She was as a horse that pulled at its bit, wanting to gain ground more quickly, yet, being held back most unwillingly. Violet reveled as she pounced upon the waves dancing seductively beneath him. Trying his best to ignore the grumbling men on deck, Violet knew his pleasurable interlude would only last a short time so he attempted to enjoy it to it's fullest.

After a few more moments, however, fearing that a mutiny was afloat, Violet called down to the Lady's crewmen. "You, men! What seems to be your debate?"

Drake's largest crewman stepped forward with furrowed brow, which he shielded from the sun with his hand, while harsh lines were etched deeply on either side of his mouth. Just because their watch had finished repairs to the wounded ship did not mean the pirate had license to test her out. "We're thinkin' it's time fer you ta return the ship to her captain." The man waited, disgruntled, wondering if they would have overtake the pirate and wrest back control of their Captain's ship.

"And if I disagree?" Violet smoothly adjusted his course to follow the shoreline.

The big man lowered his hand and squinted up at Vi.

The shortest crew member then spoke up, "Well, we was hopin' you'd agree, cause if'n ya don't were gonna havta gut cha." He too squinted at Vi, as Violet glanced down at the man with an amused expression.

"Could you reach high enough, sailor?" The sound of cocking pistols and swords being drawn was answer enough. "All right, all right." Vi sighed dissatifactorily. These men lacked a sense of humor. "I fully intend to return the ship to her captain, I am merely testing the repairs."

"The captain ain't gonna see it that way." The large man called up.

Violet smirked, his eyes lit with a purple glint, "Of that, my man, I am fully aware."

Hopefully, the Earl would wisely deduce that conditions had been just perfect to break her free of the reef, that Violet had simply gone ahead and done so. After all, Violet thought amusedly, one could not argue with the tide.

Violet looked down at the Earl's crew where they remained in a tight circle, grumbling still, shooting him evil looks while forcing the few men from his own crew to sail the ship without their help. "You, men," Violet called down, waiting until he had their full attention. "One of you go below and check the repairs, the rest of you man the lines, we shall be bringing her round momentarily and I shall need all hands on deck." Violet watched covertly as the men grumbled another few seconds before each went off to do as he commanded.

Violet smiled smugly and once again enjoyed the Lady, he searched the shoreline as it passed by, his thoughts turning to the small, adorable maid on the other side of the island.

Elizabeth...

Violet's mind wafted back to the eve before, when he had asked the slip of a girl if she would leave with him when it came time for him to go. His mouth quirked, remembering how she had played coy, not ever giving him a straight answer. 'Twas not difficult to tell Elizabeth was smitten with him, and he knew he was quite equally taken with her. However, if he were to ask her again, could she leave her lady, and all that she knew, to live an uncertain pirate's life?

Having only come across the camp of stranded travelers a few days before, Violet was just a little worried he had not had enough time to convince her. Having fallen half in love with the pixieish creature upon first sight, Violet was most eager to attempt to make her his own.

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Aboard the Saucy Wench, Pedro's disgust was evident as he walked the grimy planks. The pirate ship was filthy, a most dismal and putrid place. Worse than that, it was heavily infested with jumping fleas and scurrying rats. The Spaniard held his rapier in hand, skewering rodents one by one as they approached him fearlessly. The other men who had come aboard with him kicked out at the creatures, sending them flying across the deck only to have them group together as though planning their next attack. A few of the braver crewmen had gone belowdecks to make sure no pirates hid in the bowels of the ship, while the ship's doctor and a cook had already been bound and they now sat miserably against the rail.

"Would you kindly mind skewerin' some of these over here?" The doctor begged, as he kicked out at the beady eyed creatures. "I seem ta be havin' a bit of difficulty keepin' em off me." Luke voice rose in panic as he shook his head and upper body as furiously as he was able, sending three of the screeching critters flying off of him, only to have them run right back towards him whilst he kicked at them furiously.

"Put the men in the skiff." Pedro was not a complete sadist, the men left here had not stolen the Green Eyed Lady after all. Turning his attention to the companionway, Pedro shuddered as he contemplated descending into the bowels of the craft. Taking a moment to spear another few rats and finish his cheroot, Pedro's decision was then seemed to be made for him.

"Sir, You ain't gonna believe this." One of his crewman appeared at his side, whispering loudly.

Pedro closed his eyes in annoyance, as he had known things were progressing much too smoothly. Opening his eyes to look askance at the man, "Why ye be whispering?" Pedro answered with his own mocking whisper, choosing to answer in some amusement rather than the annoyance that had cropped up firstly. He was not overly concerned with the circumstances, for he knew after another few moments of apprising the ship, he would hoist the sails and he had no doubt he would chase the blasted pirate down with the man's own ship.

"'Thar be ghosts down there, Sir." The man still whispered, his face was pale, he was gulping in air, shaking as a leaf, and the front of the man's breeches seemed to be a mite wet.

Pedro quirked a brow at the man in amused disbelief. "Ghosts, ye say?"

" Aye, sir." The man's voice warbled and he shook off the heeby jeebies before answering. "We can hear them down there in the in the hull of the ship, but we can't find nothin', Sir.'"

Pedro laughed, not in the least bit nervously he assured himself, as he did happen to be a slightly superstitious man. He sobered quickly, returning to the job at hand, as his Captain's ship was still needing chased down. Pedro turned away from the quaking man, ordering the others to raise the anchor and hoist the sails. Pedro sheathed his sword before pulling his pistols, preparing himself to investigate a haunting.

The cabin boys on the Wench knew when they had played out their hand. Elias quieted the chain and Davey stopped moaning as though he were ill. Hidden as they were behind the false hull, if they kept quiet now, hopefully, they would not be found out.

Pedro descended the steps quickly, holding his breath, as he could smell the rot from the galley coming up from the companionway. Coming to mid ship he paused, cocking his head to listen for the ghosties the crewman insisted he and the others had heard. Pedro heard nothing. After several moments he turned and shrugged his shoulders, vaulting back up to the top deck. He breathed in the fresh air gratefully before proceeding to give orders to have the ship get under way. Pedro knowing he needed to be about hunting the damn pirate down before he got too far.

Waiting what seemed forever for the sails to catch wind, Pedro saw as the Green Eyed Lady came sailing around the northern end of the island just as the Wench had been coaxed into moving. Ordering the sails dropped, the Wench sat down in the water immediately, seeming to rather be at rest. Pedro's lips turned in a sneer, looking about himself in further disgust, he was glad that he now did not have to attempt to chase the man down in such a decrepit vessel.

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Carmelita waited impatiently while Cook steeped a pot of tea. She turned and looked at the camp around her. Seeing Lady Arianna come from the direction Betsy had just gone, the Spanish woman's eyes caught sight of something swimming out in the water behind the duchess's daughter. It looked to be the Earl captain, and he was swimming very impressively out to sea.

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The long stretch of fine, white sand between Violet and his goal was spent quickly, his determined stride taking him to that which he desired in a matter of mere seconds. As he gained ground on the threesome that stood conversing on shore, the women turned to mark his approach. Betsy looked at him with utter adoration in her eyes, before lowering them demurely to the sands at her feet, giving Violet some hope he had not blundered too badly. The beautiful and feisty Duchess of Marlborough smiled appreciatively at him, her emerald eyes sparkling with pleasure, making Violet glad he had at least one ally in the group, while the younger version of the duchess scowled at the interruption his arrival caused.

Glaring at him, in a way that gave Violet the distinct impression he had been the topic of their conversation, the duke's daughter gave an impatient huff of displeasure. Violet had not really expected anything less from the beautiful and haughty Lady Arianna, as her behavior towards him had not changed one whit since they had met. In the few days he had known her, she had been rude to him, judgmental of him, and if truth be told, Violet had found her to be an all around, haughty little... Well, we shall just suffice it to say that she had not invited him to afternoon tea. Violet chuckled at that thought while he wondered briefly how two women looking almost identical, two who were so closely related, could have such differing attitudes towards him as a person. Raking the duchess with a look that would make a younger woman blush, Violet grinned swarthily, as she only preened at his flirtation, he then turned his full attention upon Betsy.

"We are pulling anchor, kitten." Violet coaxed the small imp that stood between the two ladies with an outstretched hand, he spoke deliberately, his eyes roaming over her small, heart shaped face as she gazed up at him adoringly. "Are you coming with?" Violet subtly snubbed Arianna as inconsequential, while he smoothly attempted to steal her maid out from under her. His hand reaching out to Betsy, he gallantly offered her a life devoid of humble servitude. Violet chuckled at Betsy's expression, her eyes flying wide, she gasped softly, opening her mouth to speak. Before a sound could issue forth from the young miss, however, Lady Arianna scoffed with sarcastic laughter, both Violet and Betsy's attention being drawn to her, their gazes regretfully leaving one another.

"The only way my maid leaves my employ is wedlock, Pirate." Lady Arianna lifted a haughty brow and tucked back a strand of raven mane that blew across her face with the breeze. The same hand then came to rest on her cheek, her face taking on a questioningly innocent mien, her voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness as she queried, "Are you therefore proposing?" Knowing the pirate only dallied with her maid, as he had attempted to dally with her also, Arianna felt confident that she had just found the surefire way to rid them all of his annoying presence once and for all. Arianna again smirked at the man, her elegant brow challenged him, her emerald eyes sparked with pleasure as she waited to see how he would wheedle out of this one. The damn pirate had just stolen her betrothed's ship and now he dares to attempt to steal my maid?! I think not, Pirate. Arianna was curious as to what sorry excuse would pour from his lying lips like honey before he made his smooth escape.

The duchess chuckled at the two of them. At Violet, who was doing his best to annoy Arianna, and at Arianna, who had yet to check the reins on her temper. The duchess was not quite sure that the challenge issued by her daughter had been a wise one. Having grown quite fond of the pirate over the last few days, Kathleen found him not only to be seductively attractive with perfect face and form, but she had found that he was also quite a bit of fun and very charming to boot. She certainly did not share her fiery daughter's low opinion of the man. He was most reckless however, she thought to herself, for not only was he an admitted thief that recklessly pirated the seas, but the stunningly, gorgeous man had just dared to steal her future son in law's ship. The duchess grinned at Violet, waiting to see what he would do next, thinking that her daughter may have just lost her maid to the stunning, pirate captain.

Violet thought upon the lady's challenge for a moment. He was prepared to offer commitment to Elizabeth, that was not his issue. He had, however,  wanted Elizabeth to come with him unfettered, in order that they could spend more time coming to know one another before committing to a lifetime together. Also, Violet needed to know after some time spent thusly, if she would even care to live a life such as his. He previously had no intentions of locking her into his lifestyle if she found in time that it disagreed with her. Elizabeth and her future happiness were his only concern. Violet saw Lady Arianna gloating at the perplexed look he had let slip upon his brow. Throwing caution to the wind, Violet knew what he must do.

"I thought not." Arianna could not help but to laugh at him. Now he could slink away and they would not have to put up with his annoying presence any longer.

Good God, I hate that laugh. Violet frowned at her, and her sarcastically, annoying laugh.

The lady lifted her chin, tossing her ebony tresses back while looking down her nose at him, clipping her words dismissively as she spoke them. "Please be on your way then, Pirate."

Violet returned his attention to Betsy, who was looking at her lady. Her face somewhat stricken, Betsy turned her gaze Violet's way dejectedly, before looking in consternation to her lady once more. Violet had made his decision last eve, and while he may have questioned it once or twice over the last few hours, even mayhap, in as much as the last few seconds, when it came right down to it, he knew in his heart what he desired and now the rest would be up to her. Looking again to the duke's daughter, Violet raised his own brow haughtily, he barely bent as he pretended to swoop up an imaginary gauntlet, holding his empty hand out to her. Violet chuckled, and had been prepared, binging his hand back quickly as Arianna attempted to swat at it in annoyance.

Violet then turned to Betsy and smiled teasingly as she frowned back and forth between him and her lady. "What say you, Kitten?" Violet spoke softly, encouragingly, laughter evident in his voice as Betsy finally, dazedly, took his outstretched hand. "Would you like to be my bride?"

Betsy's jaw dropped. Good Lord! Truly?! Betsy was barely but seventeen years old, she had never yet entertained the thought of marriage. There was no doubt that she wanted to be with Violet with all of her heart, she only needed to know he was serious. He seemed to want her to say yes... But, she did fear a little bit that he had only really asked her in answer to Arianna's challenge. Did he truly care for her enough to speak vows? Betsy already cared for him greatly, however, he did have to care for her in return if she were to do this thing. "Do you mean it?" She searched his stunning, violet eyes, hoping deep down that he did.

Violet did. He meant it with his entire being, while still being somewhat, admittedly terrified at the same time. Not wanting their relationship to start out on a lie, Violet dropped the pirate persona he wore for the benefit of her lady, and he gave Betsy the real man. "Aye, Kitten." He assured her, smiling warmly, his fingers rubbing her own softly, his heart in his eyes, "Say yes, come away with me." Violet's devilish grin could not be helped, as he was pretty sure that was what she was hoping to hear.

"Yes." Betsy breathed.

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Drake Mederios, Earl of Trent, and Captain of the Green Eyed Lady, had anchored his ship securely and checked her over thoroughly. She seemed to him none the worse for her theft early this morn. She was sound, watertight, and now she could take them all home just as soon as her cargo was stored back aboard her and the crew had filled her supply of freshwater. Drake frowned annoyedly as he climbed down to the skiff that would take him to shore. The damned pirate, Petals, had given him a very rude start this morning. Drake shook his head in annoyance, the blasted pirate had caused him to swim out to sea to chase down his own damn ship. That foolhardy lark had not warmed Drake to the pirate to any degree, by any means. Not to mention that the thievery had happened right in the middle of time that Drake had been enjoying his betrothed. He and Arianna had not had much opportunity for spending time with each other lately, and the fact that the pirate had unwittingly interrupted what little time they had found, well, that raised Drake's ire even further.

Searching the beach as the skiff made its way in, Drake saw the pirate with the ladies, and he grew even angrier. He knew his betrothed loathed the pirate, that his beloved loathed the way the pirate had been chasing her maid's skirts causing her to worry for the younger girl. Wanting to support his Angel, Drake launched from the skiff as soon as it scraped the sands, his long stride eating up the distance between them quickly. Coming to Arianna's side from behind her, slipping a hand supportively about her waist, Drake addressed the man he had ordered gone from these shores.

"What is the meaning of this, Petals?" The pirate looked to be courting the maid, and Drake was sure that Arianna could not possibly be happy about it. Drake looked down to see Arianna's apple green eyes shooting fire at the pirate captain. That made two of them that were furious at the man, "Why are you harassing the ladies?" Drake did hope that Arianna would start to feel better now that he was here to oust the troublemaker and send him on his way.

"It seems you will be performing a wedding, Trent." The duchess spoke up, amusement tinging her voice.

Drake's brow furrowed, "A wedding?" Surely the pirate had not? Drake looked to Betsy with consternation written all over his face. Having spent months at sea with the small maid, Drake knew Betsy was mostly shy, a timid, little thing until she came to know you. It had taken he and his first mate, Pedro, weeks to get her to come out of her shell. But when she had... Drake amused himself momentarily with the remembrance. His arm had been hurting terribly, as he had been shot most recently attempting to stop Arianna's abduction. He had not stopped it, the bullet had stopped him, but that is not the point. When they set sail and set out after her lady, Betsy had kept to her cabin, for the most part, staying out of the crew's way. They had hit a dead space, no wind and no current, and the endless bobbing finally got to her, he guessed, and had prompted her to seek out the top deck. He and Pedro had been bored, as afternoon turned to evening, with no action, or way to proceed, so they had been enjoying some rum on the helm deck, sitting with their backs leaning up against the rail. Betsy had walked by, and Drake, loosened by the rum that took his pain away, called her over and attempted to gain knowledge of Arianna from her maid. Long story short, after a while of telling stories about Arianna, Betsy finally got around to one involving her lady's singing voice. Drake could still remember the breathless tears that had coursed down his face as Betsy warbled and screeched, while Drake and Pedro laughed till they cried, begging her to stop. After that evening, Betsy had joined them more regularly and her shyness had been visibly reduced. Drake trusted that the girl knew her own mind, as she seemed fairly intelligent and level headed. What he could not understand, was what Violet Petals was thinking, nor how Betsy would fare as his wife.

"Aye," The duchess replied, "Betsy has just agreed to be the pirate's wife."

Drake's eyes connected with Arianna's, his holding confusion, hers filled with fury.

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Betsy stumbled somewhat blindly across the sand. Mild shock and disbelief clouded her vision, making the tent they headed for look like a large, fuzzy blob ahead of her on the beach. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, trying to clear the buzzing in her head. One of her hands was held firmly to her heart in an utterly futile attempt to slow its rapid beating, her other arm was wrapped tightly about her midriff where Betsy pinched her side, wincing slightly, affirming she was not dreaming.

I am most definitely not dreaming... Betsy rubbed at the offended spot on her waist, as her vision cleared and her reasoning powers returned. She looked up to Violet who walked sedately beside her, escorting her to her tent to gather her things.

Married! Betsy ducked her head in wonder. The, as to now, unheard of thought, caused the inside of Betsy's head to again buzz as a hive full of bees. Betsy's mind spun with the implications, while realizing that this was really, truly happening, that she was really, truly going to marry Violet in a few moment's time. Realizing that she had just committed to living an entirely different, not to mention, entirely unchartered life, within only the span of a few heartbeats, Betsy tried to still her now chattering teeth from what she assumed was nerves. And while the marriage proposal she had just accepted had come most unexpectedly, in her own mind, there really had never been any doubt of her answer.

She tried to calm her jittery nerves, rubbing her upper arms with her hands as if chilled, while making her way hazily down the shoreline. Beginning an inner dialogue, she gave herself a bolstering talk to dispel the quaking coming from deep inside her body. 'Tis not as if you would say him nay. From the moment your lady dragged you out from behind her skirts and you looked into his eyes, you knew he was the one. What else could you have been hoping for? Certainly not marriage! Her inner voice warred.

Betsy glanced up at Violet again, smiling somewhat tremulously when she found his concerned eyes upon her. A swarthy, possessive smile grew slowly upon his visage at her attempt to show her gladness. Betsy blushed and lowering her gaze to his chest coquettishly, she suddenly pitched forward, stumbling awkwardly on a small rise of swaying grasses. Betsy gasped, her arms churning as a windmill for a second before Violet slipped a hand around her waist, bringing her full up against him. Having no room to gasp in air upon feeling his warm frontside come in full contact with her backside, Betsy hiccuped as she jumped at the contact and she squirmed away quickly from the unfamiliar feeling, while she returned her eyes quickly to the ground before her.

Thinking upon his swarthy smile that stole her reasoning and had caused her stumble, Betsy hiccuped again and let out a frustrated huff, scowling at the ground. Well, really, how in the world was one ever supposed to get used to that? Now her teeth chattered, her body uncontrollably shivered and she had the hiccups. Good Lord! Betsy looked at him covertly through the curtain of hair that fell past her cheek wondering how she fair once they were away from here.

Betsy sighed, in between hiccups, knowing Violet Petals was undoubtedly, the most beautiful man that she had ever laid eyes on. His smile rendered her senseless, his thickly lashed, violet eyes captivated her, speaking somehow, directly to her heart. His perfectly formed, patrician nose was framed on either side by equally prominent, perfect cheekbones, which were softened by the sensualness of his youthful jaw and irresistible lips. He had a perfect brow with the most perfect eyebrows. Worn long, his chestnut colored hair, shot through with sun bleached, lighter strands, seemed oiled lightly, to coax it to stay tied back with a thin strip of leather. Tall and perfectly built, he appeared to Betsy to be utterly perfect in every single way. She shot her eyes back to the ground as he turned to look at her. Frowning in frustration as another hiccup escaped her, Betsy could think of only one thing that marred Violet's perfection factor, as she did have a small bit of concern over his chosen profession. Being not quite sure how she was going to manage that part of her new life, Betsy did know that whatever came her way, she ultimately trusted in God to care for her. For even through repeated adversities, Betsy and her lady were safe, whole, and sound. She did wonder why God had led her to want a man that was an admitted pirate, yet she chose not to dwell on that overlong. Covertly watching him from the corner of her eye, when they were halfway to the canvas dwelling, she let her eyes roam up his side from toe to head. His russet, leather boots came up over his breeches and past his knees, cuffing right above them. His buckskin breeches that corseted in the front fit him as a glove, while an ornately jeweled rapier was sheathed at his waist. His linen shirt billowed slightly in the breeze, the lace flowing at his neck and that which poured off the cuffs, giving him a costly appearance, even without a jacket. While Betsy knew she could never have conjured him up in her imagination, not even in her most outlandish dreams, she knew she must stop worshipping his attributes if she were going to keep a clear head. But first, she indulged, drinking in the sight of him, sighing romantically as her gaze gained his face, and though he was looking straight ahead, she saw a smile quirk the corner of his mouth. Her eyes returning to the sword at his waist, she did not see that he was slowing, she did not notice his beautiful eyes widen in caution, nor his graceful hand start to raise in warning, as she walked directly into the canvas of the women's tent. Feeling suddenly as though she had run into a giant cloaked evil, Betsy spontaneously reared back from the canvas, throwing her hands up in front of her while tripping on the hem of her skirts, ungracefully landing soundly upon her bum in the sand. "Ooof!" Oh good Lord! Immediately, acutely embarrassed, Betsy squeezed her eyes shut tightly, wishing the sand could swallow her up. Her fists clenched the sand tightly where they were on either side of her body. Taking a deep breath in through her nose before then blowing it out forcibly, Betsy frustratingly opened her eyes and scrambled up quickly, swatting away Violet's offer of assistance. Brushing at her skirts, she risked a sheepish glance at him, seeing Violet's concerned expression turn to amusement, as he began chuckling at her and shaking his head from side to side.

He had tried to stop her, he had wanted to catch her, it had just happened so quickly that there had not been much he could do. Seeing Betsy wrinkle her nose at him in displeasure, Violet quickly adopted an innocent mien, looking widely around himself. His gaze raised skyward, then meandered back behind them among the treetops. He started to whistle, thought better of it, then just continued exaggerating his distraction for her amusement, just as though he had never seen her faux pas at all.

Betsy giggled, relaxing, as he had intended, and she swatted his arm, which he looked down to and raised a brow.

Betsy looked a bit fearful for a moment, afraid he did not take her playful swatting kindly, until he laughed and took her hand, turning it over, he brought it to his mouth and kissed her palm. Betsy snatched her hand back as if it burned, while he chortled at her prude behavior.

Betsy turned, shaking her head at herself, and him, in amusement, smiling wryly at Violet's antics as she entered the tent. Betsy rubbed her hand up and down the side of her skirt as her palm still tickled from his stubbly whiskers.

Violet chuckled softly, watching Elizabeth duck under the flap and disappear into the tent. He stood stoically, having just made the most important decision of his life, realizing he was quite pleased with the way things had worked out. This time he did whistle, as he relaxed, knowing she soon would be his and they would be on their way.

Betsy rubbed her posterior as she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkened interior of the structure. She knew better than to move before she could see clearly, as she did not think favorably upon bruised shins to compliment a bruised bum.

Once Betsy could see well enough to move safely about, she wove her way around the trunks and other beds to her own bedding, and she knelt down to retrieve her shawl to receive her belongings. Spreading it upon her blankets, she smoothed the wrinkles away quickly and reached for a dress to wrap her Papa's bible in. Betsy shook her head and sat back on her heels at the suddenness of this all. She had never before in her entire life done anything this reckless nor spontaneous... Other than to follow my lady in the first place, Betsy thought ironically. She had fled England with her lady months ago, boarding a ship and sailing for America. They were on their return trip home, aboard The Green Eyed Lady, when a storm had violently shipwrecked them, tossing them upon this island. The gorgeous Violet Petals and his crew of pirates had come along to pillage them not long after that.

Always having lived a fairly sheltered life, Betsy certainly had not thought of finding a husband on their journey, nor had she thought she wanted to, she had simply never entertained the thought of her own marriage before. In her duties as lady's maid to Arianna, she rarely had an opportunity to meet any eligible men, the duke's other employees were either elderly or those she considered friends, and when Betsy had ever been around any other men, she could not recall any man showing the slightest romantic interest in her at all. Not until she met Violet.

Well, wait... To be completely fair, there had been Will... Betsy smiled wickedly in remembrance as she thought of Will, her Lady's brother. A true rogue, ever on the hunt, Will was very handsome, and wickedly charming. Betsy giggled remembering the numerous occasions Will had waylaid her and teased her to distraction. While Will usually did like his ladies a bit more worldly and much more experienced than Betsy, he was not the sort of man to turn down an opportunity when one arose. He would catch her most often whilst going about her duties in the hallway outside of her lady's room, pinning her back against the hallway wall, he would swoop down upon her and attempt to kiss her. Always managing to evade him, twisting her head this way and that, Betsy would laughingly swat at him, repeatedly, until he jovially allowed her to escape. She knew that Will only teased her out of boredom. And while Betsy enjoyed the attention, and his teasing of her, she knew that it meant nothing but fun to him.

Betsy had been saving her kisses for a man who was interested in more than just teasing and having fun with her. She smiled wryly to herself, as her thoughts returned to Violet, to when they had stolen away from camp to then talk about everything under the stars for a few hours, while spending the evening under God's midnight blue skies. Violet had shared her regrets in never knowing her parents, as he had never known his own father, the man sadly drowning at sea before Violet was born. Violet had smiled sweetly when he spoke of being raised by a very loving mother however, and when he had spoke of the woman Betsy could tell Violet loved her very much. They had shared of adventures experienced in childhood, laughing at the similarities of children's games until Betsy had felt at ease with him. He had shown Betsy a different side of himself, one that had captivated her, yet also, the time spent with him had left her with an admittedly strange feeling, a feeling that Violet needed her.

Having gathered all of her clothing, Betsy placed her Papa's bible safely in the center and laid her hand upon it. She said a swift, yet heartfelt prayer, asking God to bless her marriage and guide her on her journey. She lifted the pillow from her blankets to remove a pistol and bag of shot that resided there.

Slipping the pistol in one of her dress pockets, the bag of shot in the other, she picked up her spare shawl and looked around to assure herself that she had everything. Betsy patted her pocket with the pistol in it, wondering if Violet might have another one she could keep once she had returned this one to her lady. Betsy had grown quite fond of the weapon since learning to use it recently, and she really would like to have one of her own. Hopefully, since she was marrying a pirate, he would allow her to do so. Realizing she had a lot to learn about Violet Petals and the life they would lead, Betsy hefted her bundle and took a deep, cleansing breath grateful her fall had knocked the hiccups right out of her. She was nervous enough already, and knowing her lady was not pleased, and it did perplex her to know Arianna was mad, Betsy knew however, that she must follow her own heart just as her lady had followed hers. Betsy left the tent more hopeful than nervous, coming out into the bright sunshine, straightening her spine and setting her jaw she let her eyes adjust to the light as Violet held out his hand to her.

Betsy smiled brightly up at her betrothed while Violet looked adoringly down upon her.

Mayhap, it was a small smidgen of her late parent's adventurous souls she carried inside her, but suddenly, Betsy found herself fearfully excited, wondering just where her heart was going to take her this time.

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Elizabeth Dorothy Southerland had been born in America, the first and only child of an adventurous reverend and his equally adventurous wife. The newly married couple left England before Elizabeth was conceived, both of them wanting to spread the good word, both of them agreeing they wanted to do so in the new country across the seas.

Elizabeth was loved and cherished by her parents, until she was two years of age, when an unfortunate carriage accident stole them both from her in an instant. Having also been in the carriage the day the accident took their lives, as a toddler, she had been flung free of the wreckage to land in the soft, marshy earth to the side of the road. The driver had landed in the mud not far from her, both of them surviving the tumble with only bumps and bruises. Her parents had not been as lucky. As unfortunate and devastating as that was, God took care of Elizabeth. She was blessed that her small family had settled in the same town where her Great Aunt Millie resided, and her grandfather's sister had been able to claim her. Aunt Millie sent word to her own brother, Bernard, Elizabeth's Papa. He, in turn, sent enough passage for Elizabeth's elder cousin, Polly, to bring Elizabeth safely to him. Once there, after a short visit, Polly had returned to her family, and Elizabeth had then known a new home with her grandfather in England.

Elizabeth was adored and loved by her Papa, he sheltered her and cared for her just as long as he lived. He was a minister of the Lord in the small, seaside town that he had made his home. He loved his God, his flock, and he especially loved his granddaughter, Elizabeth. Betsy had accompanied him almost everywhere, going along with him on his pastoral calls. Betsy had mostly watched the younger children once she had grown herself a bit, playing games with them, telling them bible stories, while her Papa had tended to the needs of his flock. Betsy had done dishes, dusted knickknacks and changed bedsheets, she had prepared meals and washed clothes. When a community member needed help, they could always count on the minister and his helpful granddaughter. Betsy's Papa had taught her to care for others, and it had brought her joy to use her hands for God's work. She knew a vase of flowers could brighten a room and also a person's outlook. That a clean house, and a pot of stew on the stove, gave a new mother the little bit of help she needed to make it through the day, especially if she had been awake with a crying infant all night.

Betsy had been happy and content to brighten other's lives, as it brightened her own to do so. As she grew older she had learned how to listen, how to comfort and console, she had learned to recognize if someone expressed a need. Betsy was naturally a bit timid, having to come out of her shell a bit to help others, she found herself humbled and happy, and grateful for the work. Her Papa taught her to love, fear and trust in God, to help others whenever God gave her the opportunity, and to look for Him in every situation, giving her a strong foundation for her life. Her Papa had given her the fundamentals for living, to do unto others as you would have done unto you, and to do her work as if unto God, not man. He taught her that God was with her always, that He cared for her always, that He loved her very much, even more than her Papa did. It was only after her Papa's death, when she had been ten and two, that she had needed to trust God to find a way to sustain her. She had needed Him to help her find a way earn her keep.

The Lady Eleanor had been on Papa's social call list every Saturday afternoon. Papa always went over his sermons for the next day with Lady Eleanor, the two had known one another for years and were the best of friends. The only time Elizabeth had ever seen her Papa misbehave was with Lady Eleanor. Betsy would be coaxed to go see the new litter of kittens in the stable, or to go and see if Cook had some cakes, while the elder two played noddy for stakes. It was the only vice her Papa indulged in that Elizabeth was aware of. More often than not, Elizabeth and her Papa had dinner on Sunday, after church, at Lady Eleanor's. Elizabeth had noticed that the two did not gamble on Sundays, however.

Elizabeth had naturally gone to Lady Eleanor after her Papa had passed on to his heavenly reward. Lady Eleanor was a blessing, she was kind enough to insist on taking Elizabeth in, training her as a ladies maid until she was old enough to be referred to the lady's own brother, the Duke of Marlborough. The Duke took Elizabeth into his home to serve his own daughter in that capacity, and Elizabeth had been with the Duke's household ever since.

Until today, that was. For today, everything Betsy had ever known would change.

*****************************************************************

Lady Arianna was mad enough to spit nails. She had expected the pirate to bumble through some sort of excuse and be on his way. After all, they had only met the pirate three days hence, and that had been while he was trying to steal the Lady's cargo! Yes, Arianna could concede that the man was stunning to look at, but he was still a damn pirate nonetheless. Arianna narrowed her eyes upon Violet as he waited for Betsy, whistling and rocking back upon his heels most happily, outside the tent. Arianna just knew that he only proposed to Betsy because of the challenge to his honor. She groaned aloud, receiving a comforting embrace from her beloved. Burying her face in Drake's shirtfront she chastised herself. Why had she allowed herself to be angered enough to challenge the pirate with wedlock? She could have simply denied his suit until Betsy came of age, but now it seemed there was nothing more she could do. As Betsy had readily accepted, the knave had won. The damned, black hearted pirate had stolen her Betsy.

*******************************************************

The first thing that struck Violet, when first spying Betsy peeking out from her lady's skirts, was that she reminded him of a mischievous, woodland fairy. Betsy's huge, fawn colored eyes, the sprinkling of light freckles across her nose and cheekbones, her pert little nose and her dark silky hair, combined to make her appear slightly impish. All Betsy lacked was wings, or she could easily pass for the illusive creature of his boyhood imaginings. Violet loved the look of her. He loved the way her doe eyes following him around camp, gazing at him adoringly. Violet could not wait to be away from here to adore her back without censure. His hands, meanwhile, itched to feel the silkiness of the thick, chocolate colored tresses that cascaded down past her backside in waves. It was beautiful. Elizabeth was beautiful. After coming to know her better the eve before, Violet had found more things to love about the timid maid. Such as, he loved the funny, little quirk she possessed wherein she wrinkled her small, straight nose when she spoke of displeasing things. He found it utterly adorable. He found Elizabeth utterly adorable.

He also found that he was repeating himself.

Well, truly, a man did not offer marriage every day. So, mayhap, he was a small bit nervous. He shook it off as Elizabeth stepped from the tent, smiling at him, restoring his confidence in his decision.

Betsy had slung her other shawl around her shoulders, hoping her wrap would help dispel the shivers from coming back, but upon entering Violet's presence again, she also began shivering again. She attributed the tremors to excitement, and straightened her spine, hoping false confidence would do the trick. Making her way back across the sands with Violet, he only allowed her two steps before taking the bundle from her. Switching it to his far hand, he held her hand in his as they walked side by side. Betsy's face lit up as she shot him an appreciative glance, liking that he carried her things, loving the feel of his hand holding hers. When they approached the others, Violet let her hand slip from his as he lowered her parcel to the ground. The duchess placed her hand on Betsy's arm and looked at her inquisitively. Betsy smiled at the woman timidly , not quite sure how the lady felt about her impulsive decision.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Betsy?" The Duchess asked, though they both knew that she did.

"I would like to hear you say it is what you wish, also." This came from Drake, for he too wanted to hear her assurances.

Betsy looked to Drake, then her gaze shyly shifted to Violet, this man she was about to promise her life to, and immediately the now familiar warmth began infusing her body. Even slightly angry, as he was now, he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. Violet's jaw was clenched in irritation at Drake's question, but it was the most beautiful jaw she had ever seen. Even stubbled with a day's growth of beard, it did not detract from his loveliness. If she must be honest... Betsy liked it just as well that way, as it defined his face in a more masculine manner. His piercing, violet eyes looked to her in question, as she felt the shivers come from inside her again to softly wrack her body.

Betsy nodded enthusiastically in answer to Drake's question, Oh yes, she definitely wanted this! She watched as Violet reacted to her answer with a small quirk of his mouth before he then looked down to his shirtfront. Reaching a hand inside his shirt, Violet looked up at her through thick, sooty eyelashes, that, truth be told, Betsy envied slightly, but because they framed his eyes so wonderfully, she admitted she would rather look upon them than have them for her own. His elegantly formed eyebrow had this wonderful habit of raising questioningly at her, just as it was doing now, and Betsy was amazed at how one quirk of a brow could make her insides pull together with this most strange feeling. Violet pulled a chain from inside his shirt, looked from her to it and broke it with one swift tug. He slid a ring down the length of the chain, removing it, and putting the chain into his pocket. He smiled reassuringly at Betsy as he held the ring up on his fingertip.

Betsy looked to Arianna, hoping for her acceptance of the situation, but her lady was glaring viciously at Violet. Arianna clenched her fists and snorted a very unladylike snort before turning abruptly away. Betsy heard her Lady muttering angrily, as Arianna strode quickly across the sands, heading for a path that led into the jungle.

Betsy's body continued shaking with light tremors as she watched Arianna march off. Betsy tried to clamp her teeth tightly together to keep them from chattering, she was so intent on her lady;s leaving that she barely noticed when Carmelita joined them. She did manage to focus and unclench her teeth long enough to squeak "I do" when prompted, then she found she had to quickly had to clamp her teeth back together again.

What was this malady that had overtaken her? She had never shivered so much in her entire life! Her body thrummed with energy and adrenaline. Her hand was suddenly shaking so much that Violet had to chase her finger around to get his ring on it. Betsy had no idea what happened in the next few moments as her nerves overtook her. Her sole worry was to hide her body's shaking. She got herself barely under control just as Drake pronounced them man and wife. Betsy took a deep, cleansing, yet slightly tremulous breath and smiled tentatively at her new husband.

Violet placed his hands upon her upper arms, drawing her in close, he lowered his head to kiss her.

Quite shyly, Betsy closed her eyes and puckered her lips, pecking his lips with her own quickly and softly, just as she might have done with her own dear Papa.

Violet found himself frowning a mite at the briefness of their wedding kiss, yet his dissatisfaction quickly turned to amusement as he realized the implications of her simple, sweet kiss. He raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"A bit shy, kitten?" Violet asked softly.

Betsy flushed, her skin turning a wonderful shade of rose right before his eyes, as he was assured that she was not simply shy, realizing it had been her first kiss ever! The knowledge thrilled Violet more than he could have imagined, for she truly was as innocent as he had thought upon meeting her. Violet, being just the lighter side of a score and eight, had known many women over his lifetime, most of whom he had found he could charm in a trice. Yet, even the women who had acted and seemed most innocent, had never actually been so.

Violet had assumed the same of his new, young bride. He had assumed she had at least had a beau before once in her life, that she had previously been smitten and that she would have at least been kissed once or twice. He now knew that wasn't the case and it pleased him greatly.

Drake stepped close in a slightly threatening manner, gaining Violet's attention. "I give Betsy into your care, Petals. However, know that I will be keeping my eyes and ears to the sea to see how she is being cared for. You would not want to disappoint my lady and have me hear of anything I should not like. I will hunt you down if that is the case, do not doubt me for a moment."

Violet believed the man. Violet leveled his gaze at Drake as he slipped an arm smoothly about Betsy's waist. "You have no need to worry, my lord, she will be cared for and protected. You have my permission to hunt me down if you hear otherwise." Violet slid his arm from around Betsy, sliding his hand down the back of her arm to her fingertips, he clasped them in his own. Holding her hand tightly, yet gently, Vi bent and picked up her bundled shawl before he began leading her away from her friends towards the surging surf. After only a few steps, Violet stopped abruptly, bringing Betsy up short before he turned back to Drake, "I will need the marriage papers before we depart, Trent, if you please."

Violet continued holding Betsy's hand as he walked with her down to the water where a small skiff waited to take them out to the Saucy Wench. The couple reached the shore and Violet bent and scooped Betsy up into his arms. She made a small squeaking noise, and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly.

"I can not breathe, kitten." Violet whispered hoarsely.

Betsy squeaked again, but loosened her hold, as her tensed form relaxed ever so slightly. As her head backed away from his neck and rested more on his shoulder, Violet lowered his head and kissed her again. Softly, but longer than the last time, giving her, her second kiss. Violet did not try to seduce her, he just wanted her to be more comfortable with his kisses as he planned on kissing her a lot. She was so sweet and innocent, the first innocent thing he had ever had in his life and he didn't want to muck it up. He lifted his head and smiled at her, satisfied that she was warming up to him, and his kisses, if even the smallest bit. He could feel her shivering all over in little spasms, nerves, he supposed, though she did have her jaw clenched a little too tightly for his liking.

Violet kissed Betsy's nose and grinned at her, hoping she would relax a bit and not take this so seriously. She would come to know, once they were away from here and these people that he was not overly familiar with, that he was not an extremely serious fellow. Violet was always far more prone to laughter than he ever was to anger.

Violet turned and placed Betsy gently in the boat, holding her steady as she became accustomed to the slight rocking the waves created as they rolled slowly into shore. Violet turned her away from him so she was facing the sea. Lifting her shawl from her elbows up to her shoulders, he placed his arms around her from behind, trying to still her shivering. "I will care for you, kitten, always, to the very best of my abilities." He whispered this against her silky tresses. He rubbed his face against her hair, loving the way the wisps caught in his stubbled beard. "You are simply the sweetest thing I have ever held in my life and I am very glad you agreed to wed me."

Betsy squeaked again, a tiny little noise that he almost didn't hear, and wouldn't have, except his eyes were closed, and he was fully engrossed in the moment. He laughed a little bit just under his breath and hugged her a little more tightly, kissing her crown and inhaling the clean, fresh scent of her hair while sliding his hands to her upper arms. "Go to the stern, kitten, and turn this way with your back to the wind when you gain your seat." He then steadied the craft as she scrambled to the back of the boat and sat down.

She folded her hands and looked down at them for a moment, before looking back up to search the beach where her lady had disappeared into the foilage.

***************************************************

Drake shook his head as he watched the couple walk away, hoping Betsy knew what she was getting into. Drake then went to his tent and found the necessary papers in his sea chest. He quit the tent and went to Cook's table to fill them in and have them signed by the Duchess and Carmelita, who had been witness to the nuptials. Drake hoped Arianna would not be too upset about losing her maid, as Betsy seemed to be at peace with her decision. He picked up the now signed marriage papers and walked sedately to join the newlyweds down at the shore. Betsy was sitting in the back of the boat, Violet was waiting for Drake, before intending to push the small craft out to sea.

Drake handed Violet the parchments and caught Betsy's eyes roaming the beach. Looking for Arianna, he assumed. He felt a little disappointed in Arianna for not being here to at least see Betsy off. He opened his mouth to speak a few kind words to the maid, when her eyes lit up and she stood in the rowboat.

Violet steadied the craft as Drake turned to see Arianna running towards them. Betsy bounded out of the boat like a gazelle, a few more bounds, and she was in her lady's arms. Both began crying and talking at once. Drake turned to see Violet standing there, looking just as uncomfortable as he, turning to look at him as well.

"So where do you think you will be heading.....?" Drake asked.

"So when do you think you'll be leaving?" Violet asked, at the same time.

They both grinned a little sheepishly at each other, then glanced at their women who had their heads bent in earnest conversation. Feeling like eavesdroppers, they committed to speaking civilly to each other while waiting out their women.

"I believe I will be sailing to introduce my new bride to my mother. She would have my head if I did not." Violet grinned. "My mother, that is." Violet kept grinning, just thinking about his mother did that to him. She was all a mother should be, loving, supportive, proud of him. Funny that, proud her son was a pirate. Having never known his father, still newly wed, the man had died at sea when Katherine found that she was pregnant with his child. She had no one to help her raise Violet, but a good man, a solicitor of sorts, came to visit him and Katherine once a year with funds that kept them comfortable, a settlement supposedly, from his father's estates. There had not been money enough for a commission, however, and that was why Violet was captain of a pirate ship, instead of a privateer.

He had been wishing lately he could sail a different course, carrying legitimate cargo and making his money the honest way. There were only a few problems with doing something like that as he needed to continue on as a pirate to attain his goal, and who, by the by, has ever heard of an honest pirate...?

Drake wondered at the emotions he saw crossing Violet's face, he saw honesty there, strange that. An honest pirate. Drake chuckled, and strangely enough, Violet was also chuckling at the same thought. For one, Violet had never intended stealing the Green Eyed Lady, he had simply wanted to feel her fly.

Drake realized that for himself, that Violet had been returning with the Lady when Drake had instinctively jumped into the surf to reclaim her. He had jumped in the water just as quickly as he had jumped to conclusions.

Drake sobered quickly, deciding to ask Vi a question, hoping this honesty thing would continue. "You seem a decent man in every way save one," Drake stated, as Vi raised an eyebrow at him. "Why, Captain Petals, did you goad my first mate? Why did you tell him the ugly truth of what the bastard, Bailey, made Carmelita do when she was his slave?" Drake truly wanted to know, as the pirate had seemed an almost gentleman before he had done that. Well, other than the whole trying to take his camp by force three days ago, that is. But when Drake had climbed aboard to retrieve his ship, and had confronted the man at the helm with a sword to his neck, Violet had proceeded to lash out at Pedro instead.

"You have Bailey at your mercy, Trent, yet he lives," Violet replied, in reference to the prisoner Drake had bound upon the beach. An evil man, the man who had kidnapped Lady Arianna, a man who had made many people's lives a living hell, Violet knew Bailey deserved to be dead. "I merely gave your first mate a reason to kill him he could not resist." Violet was not proud of the fact that he had spouted off to Pedro, hurting the man in a way he wish he could now take back. However, it would get the deed done and if any man deserved to kill the evil Bailey it was the Spaniard.

Drake stared intently at Vi as he answered him, "You think he needed a better reason than that his wife bears scars from being beaten?"

Violet sighed regrettably, he probably would not have done it if he had not felt so insulted by Drake thinking he would outright steal his ship. "I think he needed the additional knowledge to make him angry enough to kill in cold blood." Vi stated honestly. "He seemed a bit too honest to do it otherwise. Bailey has lived too long as it is." Violet looked Drake in the eye, challenging him to refute his statement.

Which Drake could not, the man needed killing. However, it was the English King's desire to hand down the decree himself. Drake was under the King's orders to apprehend and return the man alive for sentencing. It was the only thing keeping Bailey alive to this day, quite honestly.

Violet then turned to their women, having had enough of defending himself from that which he rued, calling out to Betsy, "Kitten, we must depart now, if it pleases you."

Drake looked closely at Violet. There was something about him that reminded him of someone he knew. He just could not place who that was. He wracked his brain, but still did not know why Violet seemed so familiar. Drake was certain they had never met before this encounter, mayhap it was just some form of déjà vu. Drake shook his head slightly, if not, it would come to him sooner or later.

Betsy and Arianna promised to write when possible, and both expressed hopes of seeing each other in the near future. Arianna had made Betsy promise if the life Violet lead was too much for her, she would contact Arianna and allow her to help her return home.

Betsy turned when Violet spoke to her, then turned back, hugging Arianna one more time, then the Duchess was there holding her, and Carmelita also. These ladies were her friends, she loved each one of them very much. Leaving them was very difficult, but Betsy knew she belonged with her new husband. At the last moment she remembered. "My Lady, your pistol." she said, as she reached in her pocket.

Arianna stayed Betsy's hand with her own, "No Betsy, please, I have Drake and Pedro now, they will keep me safe, you keep it. You will need it more than I." Arianna told her, as she hugged her one last time, glaring at Violet over Betsy's shoulder. "I will pray for you Betsy, Godspeed."

Betsy tightened her arms around Arianna. "Godspeed to you also, my lady. Take care and be happy." She let go of Arianna, giving her a dazzling smile before turning, and with tears in her eyes, she returned to Violet. He swung her up into the boat and held it steady as she again took her seat. Betsy was feeling the loss as she looked at the friends she would leave behind, then she looked at Violet, and she knew she was doing the right thing. She realized the shivering had stopped, and she felt her lady had banished it with her support. Betsy looked back to Arianna as Violet pushed them off, seeing Drake stop and speak to his betrothed for a moment, giving her a kiss, before he headed off southerly, down the beach. Arianna turned and smiled at Betsy, giving her a small wave as Betsy returned the gesture. Betsy then grabbed onto the sides of the boat to hold herself steady as Vi was turning them about.

Violet manned the oars that would take them out to the Saucy Wench. I really ought to change the name of my ship, he thought. Why Violet had kept it thus for this long, he did not know. He had not named it, after all, the name had simply come with the ship.

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