Forty Two P. 2

The King paced his study, impatience and a bit of frustration ruling his mood.

All around the King was being prepared for the ball to come. Any task that could be done a few days in advance was being carried out, thus to lighten what would need to be done when the event actually took place. The grand ballroom was undergoing a transformation, swags of fabric were being hung ceiling to floor while selective lighting was being placed to replicate stars in a night's sky.

The gaming rooms, where guests would play billiards or cards, were also being draped in frothy fabrics, while potted plants were being dispersed throughout the rooms abundantly. Everything was being prepared, all was progressing smoothly, yet, the King had a dilemma. The ball was to be three days from now and he still had no idea what his costume would be. He had enjoyed impersonating a pirate, he wanted something equally as spectacular for this occasion. The King thought over his recollections from previous masquerades. From past experience, the King knew there would be guests dressed as does, and stags, boars and bears. There were usually a good assortment of birds, and someone always seemed to manage to coerce a lesser peer into being the second half of a horse. Though he would like to know exactly how one could become coerced into being the horse's ass. Forgetting his mood for a short moment, he smiled at that last thought. He, for one, would never... The King chuckled softly before returning his attention to his quandary.

Elizabeth had told him his King costume, which consisted of the royal robes, was boring, and, how had she put it... uninspired. Having accused Trent and Moonhurst of close to the same, he could not be found lacking when it came time to dress for the festivities.

Hmmm... What to do... What to be?

He was at least inspired to ask Elizabeth, she had done so well with his pirate garb that he had not even been recognized by most. And while he could not be unrecognizable this time, as he was hosting the event, he still wanted something equally as fine as his pirate costume had been. Upon concluding his business that morning, he thought to have a missive sent out to Shelly requesting Elizabeth's assistance. After eating his noon meal, he had wrapped up his royal business and now he waited, none too patiently, for her reply.

His pacing ceased as he sighed and approached the window. A cardinal alit from a branch, its bright color gaining his attention. Flying out across the grounds, the scarlet bird chose a different tree, one with an obviously better view. The King was instantly reminded of crimson skirts and bright, golden, shining eyes. Musical laughter and a pleasant form joined his musings. She would be at the ball, the golden eyed woman. He knew she would be, as he had gone out of his way to insure that Ashton would bring her. His gaze darting to the door, the King thought he had heard something. When a moment passed uneventfully, and he heard nothing and no one came, his patience lost out and the King approached and yanked on the cord that would bring about his man. Glaring at the portal where said man would appear, the seconds dragged by as the furrow upon his brow grew more pronounced.

The King's man answered the summons within a moment's time, yet, to the King it felt too long, as he scowled at the man and queried shortly, "Has she arrived?"

"No Sire," the man answered, shaking his head, "the rider has had barely enough time to reach Shelly, it will still be a good while before she has time to answer." The man answered regretfully, seeing the frown marring the King's visage. Unaware that Elizabeth was already in town, the King resigned himself to waiting a good while longer. The King waved his man from the room, the man bowing and retreating gratefully while the King resumed his pacing.

"Blast it!" He suddenly exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of his desk. He sighed heavily and looked down at the puzzles lined up along the front edge. Smiling wryly, the King picked up the sphere and rounded the desk to sit behind it. Leaning back, his legs extended and crossed at the ankles, he began with the globe puzzle and slowly went down the line, thus occupying his mind, and his hands, as he bided his time.

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Gabriel waited a short time before finally having had enough. Hefting himself to his feet, he entered the foyer and nodded to Brady, Eleanor's butler. Gabriel looked up, cocking his head to the side. He could hear Eleanor, just barely, and a small smile grew upon his face. "Elizabeth," Gabriel called up, "you tell Eleanor to bring you down here right now or I am coming up."

Brady stood at his post between the front portal and the parlor door. Having announced the Duke, he had done his bit. He was not in any way responsible for actions attributed to peers of the realm.

Upstairs, Betsy giggled at Lady Eleanor's shocked face, as hollering throughout the house was simply not acceptable. Eleanor went out the door to the landing, finding Gabriel standing below leaning solidly upon his cane.

"Behave yourself, old man." Eleanor scolded in a low voice. "I will be down in good time, no one told you to come so blessed early!"

Betsy, ensconced in an overstuffed chair in Eleanor's sitting room, chuckled at the pair.

"I am old and I do not have time to be wasting Eleanor! If I expire in your parlour it will be on your head not mine!" Gabriel scowled playfully at Eleanor, as she 'pshed' and turned away.

"Patience is a virtue, your grace." She called over her shoulder while returning to Betsy.

"Patience be damned woman! You have ten minutes and then I am coming up." Gabriel turned and began making his way back to the parlor, "I am not getting any younger down here, you know." He threw up a parting shot, his favorite, hearing Eleanor huff at him before she closed the door soundly.

"Now, where were we?" Eleanor looked to Betsy, who attempted to tamp down her amusement while Eleanor pretended the exchange never happened.

Betsy did noticed Lady Eleanor glance at the timepiece on the mantle, and at that, her grin could not be contained.

"We were discussing beads." Betsy beamed at Eleanor.

Eleanor ignored the impertinent imp, becoming thoughtful for a moment. "I believe Madame Rosalle would be useful in supplying most of what you require." Eleanor nodded and went to her writing desk. Penning a quick recommendation, and her request, she then folded and sealed the note, placing her stamp upon it. She rose and walked towards where Betsy sat waiting. Eleanor's eyes again darting to the timepiece.

Betsy looked also, noting it had been seven minutes. Taking the recommendation from Eleanor's hand, Betsy stood. "I do wish Katherine were here, 'twould be so much easier with her assistance."

"I am sure you shall do just fine, you always were excellent at your stitches, my dear." Eleanor glanced at the clock once more, "I suppose you must be on your way, Keeting will take you as far as the castle... Unless, of course, you have some time to stay and visit?" Eleanor asked, false hope tinging her words.

Betsy held in her laughter, amusement lighting her eyes. It was obvious that Eleanor wanted to be alone with Gabriel, as she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying refusing his suit. "I promised Violet that I would return early," Betsy assured her jovially as they walked to the door. "I still have other errands also, so I regret I really must be going now." Betsy and Eleanor made their way down the stairs as they conversed.

"Brady, tell Keeting to take Elizabeth wherever she needs to go." Eleanor addressed her butler, who nodded respectfully, before then exiting the foyer to inform Keeting to bring the coach around.

"Is that you, Eleanor?" Gabriel spoke from the parlor where he insisted that the door be left open. "I was just getting ready to come up there."

"Goodbye, grandfather." Betsy could not contain her indulgent smile as she approached the old man. She waited patiently while he stood, allowing for a warm embrace.

Patting her back softly, Gabriel pulled back to kiss Betsy's brow bringing a slightly trembling hand to her cheek. "You must go?" He asked, a small bit disappointedly.

"Yes, I have many things to do, procuring items for our costumes and such. Do you know what you shall be?" Betsy asked curiously.

"I do not care to dress for masquerades and I never have." Gabriel scowled. "Your great grandmother used to dress me up to go along with whatever she was, I would always be hot and damned uncomfortable. I do not choose to participate in such an annoying practices, I will attend, but do not think to have me participate."

"I see." Betsy's mouth twitched with humor, as Eleanor adopted a look that said, 'Is that so?'.

"It was lovely to see you." Betsy kissed Gabriel's weathered cheek, her eyes sparkling with mischief, Betsy then repeated the familiarity with Eleanor before taking her leave. Brady moving before her, he opened the door passing her off into Keeting's capable hands.

"Where to Miss Elizabeth?" Keeting was glad to be back in town and it showed upon his face. Though he usually did not mind traipsing about to Marlborough and such, this last trip had been a small bit harrowing there for a bit as he was unused to being waylaid by highwaymen. He was grateful to be back at home working in his own stables and sleeping in his own bed.

"I have been directed to Madame Rosalle's, Keeting," Betsy and Keeting were old friends. A good many afternoons that Bernard and Eleanor had spent at cards, Betsy had spent in the stables with Keeting, there had been many more such afternoons once Bernard had passed away. Whether Betsy was there to give the horses affection or to play with a new bundle of tumbling kittens, Keeting, also, had done his part in raising the young miss.

"Madame Rosalle's it be then, Miss Elizabeth." Keeting handed her up carefully, before he closed the door and climbed up to his perch, setting the team in motion.

Betsy watched the buildings go by as they moved slowly along the lane. Absentmindedly, Betsy worried a loose thread on her dress, not quite sure how to go about her conversation with Margaret. Should she try to find out how Margaret felt about Brutus, or should she approach her as Brutus suggested, giving her his plan as a business proposition? Pulling the thread loose, Betsy cursed mildly as a length of it unraveled. "Drat!" Noticing the pretty pink piping was coming loose, she wrinkled her nose at what she had done. Why could she not have done this while at Eleanor's? She could have availed herself of needle and thread and at least stopped the piping from dangling as it now did. Growling softly at herself for wreaking havoc on her dress with her nervous habit, Betsy rapped on the top of Eleanor's carriage to stop Keeting with a change of plans.

Once the coach slowed to a stop, Betsy stuck her head out the window, halting Keeting from coming down. "May we stop at the Duke's first, please?" Betsy ducked back inside at his nod, deciding her shopping would have to wait. She would not want to show up at a dressmaker's with her own apparel coming apart. She may as well stop and repair her dress, and hopefully, speak with Margaret, thus getting the cause of her anxiety out of the way. Betsy said a quick prayer as the coach slowed to a stop front of the duke's residence. She prayed the Lord's will be done as she waited for Keeting to hand her down. Keeting took her to the front portal and knocked upon it for her.

When Bentley came, Keeting announced his mistress, handing her off to a happily surprised butler. "Miss Betsy! 'Tis glad we are to see you, are you expected?" He asked curiously, as the family was not at home at present. "Her grace and the marchioness are out shopping..."

"No Bentley, they were not expecting me, I seem to have torn my dress, I hoped to beg use of a needle and thread." Betsy held the limp piping up for his inspection.

Bentley tsked at such an unfortunate fate for her dress to come to. "I am sure you know as well as any where to find what you need."

"Thank you, Bentley." Betsy, having lived in the duke's residence for years, bounded up the staircase to the ladies sitting room where she knew a basket of sewing supplies could be found. Looking about, she found what she was after and sitting down, she placed the basket in her lap to match her thread.

'Twas only a moment later that a maid joined her, after greeting each other warmly, the maid set out for a cup of tea and to find Margaret for her.

Betsy threaded her needle and applied herself to her task. It was not long after, Margaret brought Betsy the tea.

"Miss Elizabeth, you asked to speak with me?" Margaret asked humbly, but also with a bit of curiosity.

"I did," Betsy smiled warmly, patting the seat next to her. "I do not care for any tea, mayhap you will sit for a moment though and enjoy a rest?" Betsy let her hands rest in her lap as Margaret took the seat next to her, setting the tea on a small table.

"I was asked to speak to you." Betsy admitted.

Margaret blushed, knowing immediately who had asked, her gaze dropped to her lap.

"He wants to offer you a position." Betsy informed her.

Margaret's eyes shot to Betsy's, "He would ask you to..." Margaret shut her mouth quickly. Just because she assumed the only position he had to offer was one as his mistress, did not mean that was what it was.

"Yes, he did. Brutus asked me to tell you his idea, so you could think on it for a while, as he is busy rebuilding the ship." Betsy understood that Margaret may think it strange that Brutus had not come himself.

Margaret chastised herself for thinking as she had. And why had that been the thing that had come to her mind? Because she had entertained thoughts of such while watching him at Shelly. While she knew that she could not marry him, she had entertained thoughts of what it would be like to be with him. It was a little difficult for her to imagine, as she had only ever known pain and degradation at the hands of a man, but she had tried to imagine what she may feel being with a handsome, kind man such as Brutus. Closing her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, Margaret was glad he was not here, that he had sent Betsy in his stead.

"What sort of position did he have in mind?" Margaret asked sheepishly.

"Well..." Betsy began to map out what Brutus wanted as she finished sewing the piping back into place. "So you see, Margaret, you have options." Betsy concluded.

"I shall have to think on this, for there is Daniel to consider also." Margaret replied. She tried to stop her head from spinning in all the different directions it wanted to go. She shook her head slightly, looking at Betsy bewilderedly before adding, "Please tell him I will consider it well."

"Perfect!" Betsy thought this had gone as well as could be expected. "I know he was worried you would not even listen, much less consider it, so at least I have done my part." Betsy snipped the thread as Margaret's mind reeled.

"Yes, you have." Margaret agreed, she was not even aware as she lifted and began drinking the tea, absentmindedly realizing her need for fortification of a sudden.

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Ensconced in the King's carriage, Betsy traveled home once completing all on her list. After speaking with Margaret, she had procured the items she needed to compliment her and Violet's costumes.Swinging by the docks, Betsy had stopped to update Brutus and see the progress made so far on the Wench. At present the old girl was a mess, she was being torn down in many areas and Betsy was amazed with how different she looked without her bow.

"You will have to come back once we start to rebuild her," Brutus had been hopeful, "if you think you do not recognize her now, only wait until the refurbishments are in place." He had said with pride and expectation of what would be. Betsy was glad to see his spirits lift when she told him about her conversation with the maid. He seemed relieved that Margaret was at least considering his offer.

Next, she visited the castle. The King's costume had only taken a moment's thought and Betsy assumed the King's seamstresses were already hard at work.

Her tasks complete, Betsy headed home. Leaving the lane and approaching the drive, Betsy saw the love of her life aboard ship. Waving a wooden sword in hand, Violet directed his crew, the children swarming the rope ladders, and sliding down the slides, to then engage in mock battles with their foes. Betsy felt incredibly blessed, her heart was warmed with the image of Violet playing with their own child one day. Placing a hand on her belly, she smiled, glad she had not been sick since that one morn, as without that she could fully appreciate having Violet's child growing inside her. Hoping for a boy with violet eyes, she did not know that Violet secretly hoped for a little girl that looked just like her.

Violet swung down from the helm by a rope, rappelling down the side of the ship, he walked quickly to meet her on the drive.

"I missed you, kitten.' Violet swept Betsy up in his arms, kissing her soundly before placing her down and helping to gather her things.

"I missed you too, Captain." She assured him, taking her purchases from his hands.

Betsy went to put her things in the manse and to change into her breeches and boots. Plaiting her hair as she descended the stairway, Betsy tied off her braid while making her way back outside to the ship. It seemed, as she got closer to the craft, Violet just may need her help fending off the marauding pirates before supper was served.

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