Chapter Four

Violet whistled his way down the hallway, his step was light and his mood was even lighter, as he approached his cabin door. He tapped upon it lightly, as a courtesy to his bride, then he leaned against the wall to await her answer while he held her tea and finished his tune.

Betsy heard him tapping and alit from her perch in front of the window. She had been watching the men and the boys on the beach. Some had been piling wood around a cauldron that others were filling with seawater. She was extremely curious, hoping it was not the beginnings of their next meal.

She crossed the room, opening the door to find her gorgeous husband leaning against the hallway wall, patiently waiting for her to answer while a smile played about his lips. The tune he had been whistling stopped abruptly when his twinkling eyes connected with her own.

"Hello, Kitten." He straightened from the wall and walked to her. Lifting his free hand, he slid it around the back of her neck, while taking possession of her mouth with his own.

His lips were soft, but insistent, they were slightly parted, giving her the option of deepening the kiss.

His touch was gentle, yet demanding, Betsy felt as though she splintered into a thousand pieces as he searched for her answer. She gave him the answer he wanted, as she purred against his mouth.

Suddenly self conscious at her boldness, she started to withdraw, but he would not let her. His hand stayed behind her neck, keeping her there, deepening the kiss once again. Betsy melted as her arms slid around his shoulders and her body pressed fully against him.

He was, of a sudden, not in complete control anymore. And he liked it. His little kitten wanted to play as much as he did. He pressed himself into her even closer, grateful she was warming to his kisses, he encouraged her to join him more fully at this sport.

'Twas one of the most thrilling things Betsy had ever done. Her body felt as it never had before. She was taken to a place where he and his touch were the only things that existed.

She did not know whether to climb him like a monkey or melt into a puddle on the floor.

They both heard the approaching footsteps at the same time and broke apart, she stepped back and smoothed her skirts, darting a covert glance at him, which caused her to cheeks to blush a rosy hue.

He just stood there, grinning like a fool, she thought.

It was not until then that she noticed he had been holding a cup of tea the entire time.

"Your tea, my lady." He held it aloft and gestured towards the table pushed up into the corner.

She lifted and sashayed her skirts away from him, walking to stand at the chair beside the window.

He 'tsk 'tsked at her as he went to the other chair and pulled it away from the table. "The view from here comes more highly recommended." He told her with a deadpan face, his eyes on the ceiling, his tone flat.

She played his game and sat in the chair with her nose held high, as if she were a grand Lady. He waited behind, to adjust her chair for her, as a servant might. Betsy was very used to serving, not so much being served, however. She thought upon how nice it was, even if it happened only once in a while. She agreed on the view, as from here she could still see the beach.

"Thank you, my husband." She turned her head to smile up at him, and he winked at her, before reaching around and setting the tea in front of her.

Josh tapped on the open door and then entered with the tray. He smiled at them both as he set it down on the table. "Things are progressing well in the galley, Cap'n."

"Thank you, Josh." Vi did not encourage him to stay, even going so far as to walk him to the door, so he could close it firmly behind him.

Betsy took a small sip of the tea, finding it slightly warm, but not hot. 'Twas very welcome, however, as she had not eaten since early morn before the wedding.

That she was wed, made her smile, she looked down at the ring he had set upon her finger earlier. Made of spun gold, a fragile web of golden strands holding a violet amethyst in the center. Betsy thought it was perfect, as Violet also, seemed perfect. For her, that is.

He stayed behind her chair and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. He bent down, breathing his warm breath down the side of her neck, right below her ear. Shivers ran up and down her body, as her arms prickled and the tiny hairs stood up, begging him to move his hands more fully across her skin. Instead, his thumbs lightly caressed the back of her neck, as he started trailing his lips against the sensitive skin under her ear.

She closed her eyes and sighed, bringing her hands up to meet with his upon her shoulders, and intertwining their fingers.

"I realized something today," he breathed across her cheek, before he kissed it, and then kept kissing a trail along her jawline.

"Mmmmmm, and what was that?" Betsy lazily drawled, as she floated in a euphoric state that she never wanted to leave.

"I believe I am very, very happy being married to you, Kitten." He admitted, as he withdrew his fingers from hers and smoothed his hands over her shoulders, pulling her dress aside a bit to kiss her shoulder where it met her neck.

Her hands slid back into her lap.

She lowered her head and looked down at her hands, she could not say where the emotions came from, she just knew they came rushing over her like a tidal wave.

Of a sudden, tears welled up in her eyes, a few falling down her cheeks as his simple words touched her heart. As she had not felt it touched since her Papa died. She loved her Lady Arianna, Will, and the Duke. And now that she knew the Duchess, she loved her too. But they still were not her family, even Lady Eleanor had not been her family.

Papa had been her family, and she had missed that love so, without even realising how much.

He felt her body change, it drooped under his hands, her head lowered, and he felt her body start to shake in small irregular tremors.

"Kitten? What did I say?" He moved around next to her and knelt beside her. Taking her hands in his own, he held them to his lips, kissing them, as he tried to search her eyes for an answer.

Her eyes were tightly shut against the tears, yet they continued to flow in spite of her effort to quell them.

Violet stood and took her up into his arms, holding her tight, as her toes dangled a foot above the floor. Holding her tight until she quit shaking with grief, and she came back to him, and to what had caused her tears in the first place.

She laughed a little, one if those small, pathetic attempts to lighten the heavy mood she had created. Her face was buried in his neck as she spoke.

"I have not been told that I make anyone happy in a very long time, Violet, I thank you so much for it." She told him truthfully. Then she wiped at her tears before placing a kiss upon his neck.

Expressing her feelings almost made her start tearing up again, but before the feelings could overwhelm her once more, she smiled instead, a small, sad, yet grateful smile.

He set her down and kissed her forehead, "I think it should be me doing the thanking, 'twas me who said you make me happy, so thank you." He kissed her lips this time. Just a sweet, soft, lovely kiss, then he wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks gently, smiling at her innocent loveliness, before he handed her back into her chair.

She brought her legs up under her to sit upon her feet, as the chair was too tall and she had noticed before that her toes dangled above the floor. It made her feel like a child.

Violet holding her, as her toes dangled above the floor, however, did not.

Violet sat in the other chair as she settled herself comfortably.

He picked up a small plate, and placing a scone upon it, he set it in front of Betsy.

She gave him a smile that was reflected happily in her eyes this time, "I like being married to you, too." She stated, as her smile widened and she looked once more to her lap.

He took her left hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss, as she lifted her gaze and saw him looking at his ring upon her hand.

She smiled even wider, if it were possible, as his face showed a possessive nature she had never seen before. "You are mine." He stated, as his eyes shifted from the ring to her own.

"Aye, I am yours, Violet. And you are mine." She offered him her heart in that moment, utterly and completely. She was his, forevermore.

He grinned, a sly, swarthy grin and picking up a scone, he tore off a bite and continued to grin as he chewed.

Betsy could not understand what had just happened. Had he turned from a charming prince, into a mannerless, disgustingly, rude pirate right before her eyes?

She chose to ignore him, and his manners, hoping he was only teasing as her stomach rumbled in response to the aroma of the scones.

She decided to concentrate on spreading some jam just so, as a peek revealed he was still grinning slightly and chewing with his mouth open. She closed her eyes in supplication that her husband might show a bit more manners, as she bit into the saltiest scone she had ever eaten in her life.

She chewed it wide eyed, and closed mouthed, her mouth drying out and puckering more with every chew. Not wanting to exemplify bad manners herself by spitting it out, she forced herself to try and swallow the salty goo ball, reaching for her tea to wash it down. She took a big mouthful of the tea, to counteract the salt, as the tea was tepid now.

"So how did it go with the breeches?" He asked.

Betsy spit the tea and scone all over him. Her breath caught in her throat and the goo just flew right out of her mouth, across the table, and sprayed upon his shirt. Her hand flew to cover her mouth immediately afterwards, but by then it was too late. She looked at him in horror, before burying her face in her arms on top of the table in mortification.

Vi had looked back at her in horror. Then down at his shirt. What in heaven's name was that? Then he looked back to her. What in God's name was wrong with her?

Then she clapped a hand over her mouth, and looked at him horrified, before she had buried her head in her arms.

Violet barked with laughter, at her, at himself, at the insanity of his day. As if his time aboard the Lady, the wedding, and the shooting gallery by his bride had not been enough, he had now been fully spat upon by his Kitten. And the day was only half over.

And....... She was crying again, he tried to stop laughing immediately, and so ended on a snort. Her shoulders shook even harder. "Oh no," he said, trying not to continue laughing, "'Tis sorry I am, Kitten, I wasn't laughing at..."

He stopped speaking as she raised her tear streaked face to his, she was laughing too, the little vixen.

"You ssnorrtted!!" She started laughing uncontrollably as hysteria took over. The embarrassment at spitting goo and tea all over him, combined with his laughter and his snorting, hit her in just the right way to send her over the edge.

"Well..... You spit tea on me." He replied a bit sulkily.

She really lost it at that, she had to cover her entire face with her hands, she was laughing so hard she was embarrassed by what her face must look like at this level of hilarity.

He grinned, at least she was not crying, anyway. That was a good thing. He leaned forward and rubbed her shoulder as she calmed down. Trying to breathe evenly, she risked a glance at him through her fingers, then she grinned back, still chuckling.

"Tis sorry I am to have wet you down, Violet, I will wash the shirt, if you will but give it to me." She took a deep, cleansing breath, then attempted to finished her tea, wrinkling her nose when she found it was cold by now.

Violet took her cup and emptied it out the window, handing it back to her when he finished, so that she could pour a hot cup from the pot on the tray. She poured one for Violet also, then raised a brow as she indicated to whether or not he wanted sugar in his. She did not know it, but she had done a perfect imitation of her lady, Arianna, serving tea.

Vi shook his head in the negative to the sugar and took the cup from her, nodding his thanks before he threw his head back and drank it in one swallow. His eyes burned as he looked to Betsy, who sat there, horrified, at his action.

Violet squinted at her through red rimmed, tear filled eyes. "What?..... " He croaked, "I prefer my tea hot."

Betsy shook her head at the fact, that such an attractive man could have such horrendous habits.

Then he remembered to ask her again,"Were the breeches going to work for you?"

Betsy groaned and ducked her head down onto her arms once more.

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The men on the ship all around them were hard at work, they wanted to get the scrubbing done so they could go ashore and stay ashore, rather than just to fetch more buckets of sand.

Funny thing was, as soon as they started revealing the clean wood underneath the grime, t'was easier to do the next section. Most of the men were even impressed with how well the ol' girl was cleaning up. She was starting to shine and look like a new farthing. The Captain had been right, when they all pitched in together, it was a right easier job. One of the men started singing a bawdy tune and the others joined in. Soon t'was a scrubbing and a singing ship full of industriousness.

Brutus went below to the galley and grabbed a scone from the wooden table. He took a big bite and started chewing. Two seconds later he spat the goo out of his mouth. "God's teeth, man! Did ye mix the salt and sugar again, Paulie!?!" Brutus said, as he tried to spit the remaining bits from his mouth.

Josh looked at Brutus and groaned. Not again, he thought, and I gave some to the Miss and the Captain. Wonderful, just wonderful.

Josh glared at Paulie, as he thought for the thousandth time, I would make a better cook than he.

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"Come now, Kitten, it can not be as bad as all that." Violet tried to reassure Betsy as he placed a hand on her crossed arms.

She huffed a big breath and raised her head, "Oh, you do not think so?" She scrambled out of the chair, and lifted her skirts, balling them up in front of her. She turned around and looked at Violet over her shoulder.

Violet's eyes widened, mostly in appreciation, then he groaned also.

"See, do you now see why I am upset? I have gone and ruined the only pair of breeches I have!" She turned to face him and he put a hand over his eyes. "I knew 'twas bad, is it truly that horrible?" She hated to think Vi was embarrassed by her display.

He lowered his hand from his eyes and groaned again. The sight of her bum in those breeches had rendered him speechless. He had better remain sitting down so he did not embarrass them both. He shifted on his chair, trying to find a more comfortable position, as lust filled his body. Then she turned.

Now she was facing him with her skirts bunched up and it looked as it she were carrying a babe. Well, that took care of the lust part of his problem, for the moment anyway. He suddenly thought of what would happen if he got her with child while they were at sea. He wondered if she suffered from sea sickness, he hoped not, but a babe would not help that matter any. Also, he had not married Betsy to get her with child, then leave her on land while he sailed the ocean. He was going to have to think on this a bit.

"Violet, what shall I do?" Betsy whined at him.

She looked so forlorn, he laughed, "I have a solution, Kitten." He grinned at her and stood, now that he could, and went back to the trunk by the wall, opening it and rummaging inside.

"Nothing can repair the damage I have wrought on these poor breeches, and I really could not ask for another pair, Violet, it was so kind if you to give me these." She dropped her skirts and laid a hand on his shoulder as he straightened.

At full height he leaned forward, bending down he kissed her nose again, it was just so cute, he could not resist, as she had it all scrunched up in displeasure again.

He handed her one of his very old shirts and even a pair of boots, "Go in the other room and try these on, I shall find you a belt while you change."

She did as he bid, going into his bedroom and setting the things down upon the bed. She turned and closed the door and gasped. The hugest sword she had ever seen in her life was hanging on the back of it. She reached up and touched the hilt. 'Twas breathtaking how massive the thing was. Surely it was too large to use. It must be something Violet had stolen from a giant. She blinked her eyes and shook her head, nay, he certainly could not use the mammoth thing.

As she unbuttoned the tiny buttons running down the front of her dress, she hoped his idea would work, and she could lose the skirts for good. She pulled the dress over her head and picked up the shirt. He must have worn it years ago, as it was too small for him to wear now, yet still too big to hand down to the boys. It was similar to the one he now wore, the only difference being t'was white linen, not buff. It even had lace that ruffled to her fingertips. But more than that, praise The Lord, it covered her backside!

"Oh Violet, 'tis perfect!" She exclaimed, as she opened the door and stepped out to pirouette in front of him.

He could still see her bum in his mind, and it gave him pleasure to think that voluptuousness was his. He knew his grin was lecherous, he just could not help himself. Shirt or no shirt, he would see that bum every time he looked at her. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, thanking her God above, for his new gift.

He could not wipe the grin from his face, so he just resigned himself to wearing it for a while as he stepped to her and wrapped a thick belt around her middle, hooking it in place for her.

She pulled the tails of the shirt down and ran back to his room to see in the looking glass. Oh, joy! Now she could wear the breeches! She was so excited she grabbed the boots and tossed one his direction as she hopped into the other one while coming his way. She then picked up it's mate and donned it too. The boots were not as high as Violet's, the cuff ending right below her knees, but other than being a little loose, they were fine. They worked with her breeches exactly as she had hoped they would.

She pulled the ends of the shirt down again and stood ramrod straight in front of him. "How do I look, Captain?" She asked him in a hopeful voice.

He laughed at her, as he pulled his own soiled shirt off, lifting it over his head and tossing it on the trunk, until the tea and goo could be laundered out.

Betsy felt her mouth go dry as he revealed the most beautifully tanned muscles she had ever seen. His loose, flowing shirt had been deceptive, hiding bulges and brawn that she never could have imagined. She was so mesmerised by the sight, she even forgot she awaited his answer. She did have her wits about her enough to realise, this man could definitely wield the sword that hung on the back of his bedroom door, and another one besides if he should so choose.

Betsy's gaze lifted to his face, no easy feat mind you, but she felt she should quit ogling his body as if he were a sweet treat she would like to devour.

He had his eyebrow quirked at her again, as his laugh turned soft and sultry, knowing from her eyes that she liked what she saw. He growled and picked her up, biting her neck softly, as he said, "In yer pirate finery ye look good enough to eat, lovey." He made funny little noises, as if eating her neck.

She giggled, as it tickled, and because she had been thinking the same about him. She grew bolder with his play and grabbed his head between her hands, pulling him back from her neck so she could kiss him soundly.

She pulled back from the kiss and remembered his kindness in finding her something better than skirts to wear aboard ship. "Thank you again, my hero." She said warmly, as she held his cheeks in her palms.

Of a sudden, things got serious.

Her hero, Vi liked that. His eyes turned fierce and warm and held her lips in their sights. He took them in a deep, warm kiss that stole her reasoning power. He lifted her and walked slowly, still kissing her, until he stumbled into the bed. He lay her back first, then he lowered on top of her, kissing her again, and letting his hands wander.

She realized where they were, and what they were doing, and rather than being timid, as he was her husband after all, she explored him, too.

Her hands ran over his bare chest and up his sides, over his shoulders and down to his biceps where she held on for dear life. He rolled on the bed bringing her on top of him and settled his hands on her bum. Oh my!

She gasped at the pleasure this brought, backing away from his kiss so she could look him in the eyes. How could she forget from one moment to the next, how absolutely stunning they were, she would never know. She did know that she had come to realize, he was beautiful inside and out, she saw him as a whole person now, not just his mesmerizing attributes.

Violet knew of a sudden, if they did not stop, she may very well end up looking like she had earlier with her skirts bunched up around her belly, and right now, that would not be convenient. He lightly swatted her rump, breaking the spell they had woven, and he rolled to his side bringing her with him.

He stroked her cheek, with the back of his fingertips, as she gazed into his eyes.

"Thank you for bringing me with you." She breathed.

"Oh lovey, the pleasure is mine." He said, as he wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her gently, rocking her side to side, with the motion of the ship. "What say you we go ashore, now that you are suitably attired?"

She felt light as a feather in his arms, and her mood was just as high as she realised this was going to be the best adventure ever. And if the last five minutes were to repeat themselves often, she would be as content as cat with a bowl of cream.

"Are we going to drink rum and sing bawdy songs around the campfire?" She asked him, as she heard the men topside singing, and she laughed at the thought.

"You really are an impertinent wench, are you not?" He laughed his answer, as she surprised him with her teasing, yet again. "I will have you know, I was joking, and my men know it. I do not allow drinking on my ship, other than medicinally, and that is mostly done by my cook as he is forever injuring himself. Whatever my men do on land is their business, but on the ship, I need their wits about them."

She looked at him seriously, but happily, as she replied, "Good, 'tis glad I am to hear that. My Papa called it the devil's brew and I have seen the effects myself. I would hate to be amongst a large group of drunken men and me be the only female in the vicinity." She had been pleased with his answer, and it showed in the approval in her eyes.

"Yes, Violet, let us go ashore for a bit." She moved to rise off the bed and he grabbed a quick handful of the back of her breeches as she did.

She squeaked and jumped a bit, as he laughed his pleasure at her reaction.

Then he too rose, going to the wooden locker in in the corner next to his desk, he opened it and pulled out a folded shirt. Much to Betsy's dismay, he donned the shirt, hiding his beautiful build. He then straightened his clothing and reached for her hand.

He was pretty sure he was going to enjoy this husband business, once he figured out a few snags. He smiled at her adorable face as he led her topside to ferry her to the beach.

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Pete followed the narrow path that meandered through the jungle growth, and all of the boys followed Pete.

"Stay back a bit men, I may have to do some scything if'n the trail is blocked." Pete spoke over his shoulder to the gaggle of cabin boys following in his wake. He spied what he was looking for and stopped. "Harpy, ye better run back and get Sam to help with this one, it's a big bugger."

Harpy took off running back the way they had come, to fetch Sam and have him help Pete with a log. They were looking for larger ones now, as the boys had piled up all the wood they could find that was within their capabilities to carry. It was up to the men to gather the bigger pieces, but the boys still swooped up a branch or a stick, if one was found on the trail.

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Sam was on the beach, making sure the kettle was filled with enough seawater, as the boys had grown bored with that chore half an hour ago. They had been gathering kindling since, so Sam filled the kettle the rest of the way, poking the clothing and linens back down under the water as he added more. He had already found a few smaller downed trees, which he had dragged over by the kettle, and Pete was out looking for more.

Satisfied with the water level in the pot, he then grabbed up a machete and started hacking at the trees that needed to be chopped up into smaller logs.

"Saaaamsoooon!!!" Harpy screeched.

"Gor, the child must still be ten meters away and 'tis as if he's screechin' directly in me ear!" Sam shook his head in disbelief. That boy and his screeching never failed to amaze him. A person would think the child would go hoarse after a while, but he never did.

"Samsoooon!!!" Harpy screamed again as he came into view, he came running back up the trail Pete and the boys had taken but a few moments ago.

"Eh, Harp, I hears ye!" Sam ruffled the boy's hair as Davey came to stand in front of him, the boy was panting so hard he could not even spit out what he wanted to say.

"Pete," pant, pant, "needs," pant, "help!" Davey grinned at Sam as he panted and pointed back towards the jungle. "He found a big un!"

"Well, let us just go see how big it is, boy." Sam scooped Davey up and tossed him on top of his shoulders as the boy grinned and accepted the ride.

It was like riding a bear to be on Sam's shoulders. He was almost as wide as he was tall, a virtual mountain of a man. His father had been large, and so he was, too. Sam's father had also been a pirate, and when his mother passed away from the pox, he had gone along with his father, serving as a cabin boy himself, until he grew too large to be called a boy anymore. T'was the only life Sam knew, so he lived it without guilt, happy to have a home, and the other men whom he considered family.

Davey looked back to the ship and noticed that the Cap'n and the Miss were getting into a rowboat and coming ashore. He hoped the Miss had her pistol and that she remembered what she told him about shooting practice. He waved quickly when he saw Betsy's eyes turn their way, and he kept his grin as she waved back at him. Another moment and he could not see her anymore through the jungle, so he directed his gaze forward as he set his hands atop Sam's head.

"It can not be very far Harp, you boys were not gone but a few moments." Sam spoke up to the boy riding atop him.

"Nope, not far Samson." Davey was curious about something and it seemed a good time to ask the man a question. "Sam, will we still be pirates if'n we havin' a lady aboard?"

"Well, I am thinking so, Harp. Funny thing is, that little slip of a girl, shoots a pistol better'n any man I ever seen. Mayhap she was born to be a pirate, too." Sam mused. "As far as if she will be pirating with us, we will just have to ask the Cap'n, will we not?"

Davey considered this, and figured Sam was right, Violet would be making that decision, he guessed. He shrugged his shoulders as if it did not matter, but he was a bit worried, he really liked the Miss and he would not want her to get hurt. As it was, he and the other cabin boys had to wait in the galley when they were pirating. Violet had told them that when they could swing his claymore they could then stay above deck. As it was, none of them could even lift the huge sword that was hanging on the back of Violet's bedchamber door.

'Twas Vi's special sword and everyone on the Wench knew it was the bringer of death. If Violet had that sword ready, it would be a bloody quick fight. Davey liked it better when the opposing ships were not so heavily armed and they just gave up. He knew the crew could wage a good fight, but he never wanted anyone to get hurt, or possibly die.

His parents had died, not too very long ago, and he had sat by their beds as the fever consumed them. They had passed away right in front of him, one following the other. After that, he had spent a fortnight wandering the docks, begging for scraps to eat, before Violet found him. Davey had been trying to sleep under a dinghy that was turned over on the sand next to the wharf. The sight of Violet's boots next to the boat had frightened him, he had tried to scramble out the other side, but Vi had stepped around and caught him. Good thing too, as Davey had not eaten for three of those days, and was feeling poorly.

Violet took him aboard the Wench,, fed him and clothed him and now he had a home, brothers, a whole family. He tended to worship Violet no small bit, as the man had been his savior in his hour of need.

They came up on Pete and the others and Sam lifted Davey down to the ground. "Well, what have we here? You were right Harp, 'tis a big bugger." Sam agreed.

Pete grinned at Sam, "You up to the challenge, Samson?"

"Bah, between ye and me there is no challenge to be had, my friend." Sam smiled at all the boys, who were looking back and forth between the two men and the log, they were always impressed with the strength the two men exhibited, but this time they were not so sure.

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Until next time :)