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

Forty Three P. 3

Betsy jingled softly as she and Violet made their way to the King's study. Promising the King that she would come early, just in case his valet needed help with his face, Betsy smiled up at Violet radiantly, for the umpteenth time, he noticed, since leaving Lady Eleanor's guest suite. It was driving Violet crazy, truth be told, for Violet knew she was deriving pleasure from her every step bringing about the tinkling sound, the bells on her moccasins causing him to smirk his amusement. It had not been too long ago he had accosted her in their suite, setting those bells to ringing quite merrily.

Betsy swung his hand, Violet gained a small, secret pleasure in allowing her to do so, knowing she liked the fringe that hung from her wrists. The dress she wore was made of soft, bleached doeskin, accentuating the light tan Betsy still sported from her summer spent at sea, contrasting attractively with her tawny hair and amber eyes. Additional rows of fringe swayed across Betsy's breast line, dipping down in the middle, complimenting Betsy's figure and drawing one's eye to the pretty beads that ran atop it. Plaited in two braids that lay over her shoulders, Betsy's hair was tied off with thin strips of the doeskin, to which were attached hanging beads and feathers. A beaded headband adorned her brow, the beads were small, as colorful seeds, applied creatively in an intricately wrought design. A knife was secured at her waist, its sheath also decorated with the small beads, the hilt was carved from bone. Attempting to recreate a ceremonial dress her father described in one of his letters, Betsy hoped she and Katherine had come close to the real thing.

Luckily, Betsy's mother had been a fair artist. Rough sketches, depicting the Native Americans as Mary saw them, accompanied the letters, lending to the task of creating the costumes. And, as luck would have it; depending on how you looked at it, I guess; the weather had been moderate when Alexander and Mary described what they saw, as Violet was dressed in fringed buckskin breeches and a fringed vest, not traipsing about half naked, dressed in the loincloth that adorned many of the tribe's warriors in the heat of the summer.

Betsy was excited beyond measure. How many times had she prepared her lady for a ball, only to then have to wait hours to hear what had happened? How many times had she wished she could go, just to see what it was like? 

The couple had passed through the ballroom, servants were still setting things aright, lighting candles while the orchestra tuned their instruments. Betsy's excitement had grown upon seeing the woodland setting, plants abounded and the candles being lit were as fireflies or stars, flickering romantically above their heads.

Betsy's smile slowly grew sultry, she released Violet's hand and danced in circles out ahead of him, her bells jingling in what Violet now was starting to consider a mating call. His eyes changed from iris to violet, darkening with desire as the length of fringe that rode to her knees swung aside, giving him a glance here and there of her silky, lower thighs. She stopped spinning abruptly and took in his spreading grin.

Returning a grin of her own, "You think I am silly. That, or you are imagining me without my clothes." She chuckled softly, amazed at another of his transformations, smirking saucily at the warpaint artfully smeared upon his cheeks and forehead. His hair unbound, it hung past his shoulders a few inches, held back from his face with a thin, leather strip tied around his brow. Where it tied on his head in the back, beads and feathers fell atop his hair to embellish his costume, his moccasins and the fringed vest he wore were similarly adorned. The bag taken to Eleanor's had contained his bow, and a sheath of arrows, which now hung across his back. A tomahawk rode at his waist, lending him a most savage appearance

"I certainly shan't have any difficulty knowing where you are." Violet assured her as they made their way down the hall.

"Nor I." The King's voice came from the open doorway out ahead of them. He had heard the jingling for the last half moment causing his approach to the door.

Betsy giggled and stepped quickly, again dancing out ahead of Violet, setting her bells to ringing merrily, she curtsied to the King at the threshold, then her hand came over her mouth and her eyes grew wide as she got a good look at him.

"What?" Self consciously, the King looked about his furry self, attempting to see if aught was amiss.

Violet could only grin at the maned Monarch.

"Oh, it is just so magnificent!" Betsy exclaimed. She looked at him aghast, knowing she had come up with a brilliant idea, but, my word, it had turned out so much better than she could have ever imagined.

The King turned and walked a few steps, giving them both a good look at his backside. He then returned, stalking forward regally, coming to stand before them, noticing both pairs of their eyes swinging in time with his tail, which, he assumed, swung back and forth behind him. Betsy's eyes lifted to his, she immediately losing her composure. Her tightly compressed lips blew her laughter out from between them, the pffting sound and slight snorting that came from her was most unbecoming. The King thought so, anyway.

"You find issue with my appendage?" He asked, feigning royal miffdom, he stood to the side proudly, pulling and releasing his string smoothly. Violet chuckled as the King set his tail to raising and lowering along with his eyebrows.

Betsy laughed harder, then shook her head while bending over slightly, holding out a hand she begged him to stop. She attempted to straighten her face of its humor, she failed, then she attempted it once again. 'Twas no use, she decided, grinning and chuckling as she made her admission. "I had no idea just how distracting 'twould be."

"I like it." The King grinned, wiggling his brows at her before looking behind himself, his royal amusement with his tail, further amusing the couple. 

"You would." Violet chuckled, shaking his head at the man ever so slightly.

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Who guessed their costumes? Tell me truly, I have been wondering if any figured it out before, when the beads and feathers were mentioned....