The Reverend's Daughter (Book 2 after The Duke's Daughter)

Thirty Seven Part Two

Becoming acquainted with one another over dinner, amid much storytelling and laughter, Betsy and her great grandfather, the Duke, both noticed similarities between themselves.

At least twice, if not more, they had both interjected into the conversation the exact same reply.

Their eyes twinkling at one another, they realized they had a similar thought process, and they could appreciate that about one another.

The Duke was a fine storyteller himself, sharing a few of his own experiences, as Violet and Betsy told him of theirs.

The Duke began telling a story of a long ago hunt, when his horse had thrown him violently, causing him to suffer a severely broken leg. 'Twas one reason he needed his cane, the other reasons being, his weakness, and the infernal shaking that afflicted him.

Violet suddenly noticed that the Duke wrinkled his nose when speaking of it. This made him chuckle.

"Violet! There is not one thing amusing about Grandfather's broken leg, nor his trembling!" Betsy chastised him.

Violet began really laughing, when of a sudden, both the Duke and Betsy looked at him, both of them wrinkling their noses his way.

When he was able to speak, Violet explained, thus redeeming himself, " 'Tis your noses, you both wrinkle them up when you speak of unpleasant things." He still chortled, especially when they both replied.

"I do not." Simultaneously.

Gabriel and Betsy smiled the same crooked smile at one another, realizing that, yes, they did.

Betsy still could not believe that she had been blessed with family of her very own. The way the Duke looked at her, she knew she was loved, regardless of the fact that the man had just met her.

She had not even thought of having more family who would, mayhap want to know her, when she had been reading her Papa's journal. She and Violet had been a bit more concerned with their audience before the King at the time.

After dinner, sitting out on the veranda, watching the boys play with Violet and their new swords, Gabriel and Betsy sat enjoying one another's company.

Gabriel could not get over how much Elizabeth looked as his own daughter, Penelope.

"If I make you uncomfortable Elizabeth, please forgive me, I find I can not help myself, but to look at you in wonder." Gabriel had found himself fighting back his emotions several times over the last couple of hours.

Betsy's hand rested within the Duke's grip. He had taken her hand when they rose from the dining table, he had not let her go for even a moment since.

"I do not feel uncomfortable in the least," Betsy assured him, "I am feeling quite blessed actually, Grandfather." She smiled sweetly at him, causing the Duke's heart the sweetest pain.

"Did anyone ever tell you how very much you look as your Grandmother Penelope?" His incredibly, light blue eyes gazed upon Betsy with the utmost pleasure.

"I knew that my father did, Lady Eleanor told me so." Betsy replied.

"Harrumph!" The Duke's eyebrows came down sharply as he frowned, his nose wrinkling a titch, "Now there's a woman who has some explaining to do, why, when I get my hands on.."

"It truly was not her fault, Grandfather. If we must place blame anywhere," Betsy lowered her head looking to her lap, "The blame must rest upon my Papa."

Gabriel lifted her chin with a finger, forcing Betsy to look into his shrewd eyes, "Do you know why he kept us apart, Elizabeth?"

"I have his reasons, in his own words, and Lady Eleanor's explanation." Betsy nodded, his hand at her chin going up and down as he kept his hand upon her.