Chapter Two

Lillian sat alone at the breakfast table, knowing that the rest of her family would take a while to wake up. Buttering a torn corner of her toast she thought back to the events of the previous night. She hadn't heard Joanne come back, and she waited up till all hours of the night for her. Looking out the opposite window she saw the sky had cleared with only streaks of clouds left lining the blue morning sky. Taking a sip of her water one of the many servants came and poured juice into an empty crystal glass and placed it in front of her. She thanked her and turned back to her toast. She smiled in admiration of the cook at how she could heat individual slices of bread with out making it turn to ash.

Her thought then drifted to the memory of her father. The first time the cook entered the house all she could make was toast. She was young with two children who became servants in the Bentley manor. When she made toast for breakfast the first morning Mr. Bentley exclaimed:

"My! I have never seen anything like this before! You must be a fabulous cook," he was thoroughly disappointed at dinner that night, however he kept her just because of her breakfasts. Lillian was five at that stage and Joanne was four, Katherine was two and Amelia was just born. She sighed at the thought that was one of the happiest times in her life; when her father and mother didn't fight.

Looking around the ornate breakfast room she was looking for something just a hint of something that would tell her why her father left. But looking into the brass decorative plates, the dark wood floor, white panelled windows she saw nothing. Closing her eyes she hoped to open them and find that it was all just a dream, that her father would be sitting at the head of the table her mother would be at the opposite end, Joanne next to her, Wendy and Peter next to their mother then Amelia and Katherine in the spare spots. They were all laughing and talking, one happy family. But when she opened her eyes all she saw were empty chairs. Standing up after draining her juice (in a very unlady-like manner) she brushed any crumbs from her nightdress and began to exit the room.

"Lorraine tell mother I have gone for a ride, I should only be an hour," she said stopping the servant who had hurried in to clear her plate, "Oh and do you know if Miss Joanne returned last night?"

"Yes, miss. She came in very late, Nacye put 'er to bed, I 'ear she 'as a fever," the little maid said clothed in red and white. Lillian nodded in thanks then rushed up to Joanne's room second floor on the right, the dark wood doors. Creaking the large doors open she peered into her sister's room and found the curtains were drawn and the room was dark. Tip-toeing across the floor to the four-poster bed she peered inside the hanging.

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Katherine placed her brush down on the table of her vanity and examined her reflection in the mirror. She was still in her white nightgown. Her room was neatly arranged everything had a place and if it was taken it was always put back. She had already made her bed and drawn her curtains to reveal the clearing morning sky. Her gold painted mirror seemed to look back into the past. Peering over her shoulder was her father, his blond hair pulled into a low ponytail. He leaned over Katherine brushing her hair.

"Do you like you new vanity my darling," he said. Katherine nodded.

"Yes Father, but to be vain is not a good thing. But I can't help looking at myself!" She exclaimed her eyes glazed over with happiness. Mr Bentley lent down and kissed her on the cheek. Closing her eyes Katherine opened them to find herself ten years older in a cold, empty room. The warmth of her father's presence was nowhere to be found. Walking to the window she ran her fingers through her long blond hair and sighed at the memory. He papa wasn't coming back.

&

Somewhere below Katherine's second floor window Amelia was walking with the gardener hand in hand. She was all in black as if in mourning.

"Oh Philip, I can't bear to be in that house anymore. Reminds me too much of my father," Amelia said as they walked by the roses. Philip the handsome gardener picked one and handed it to Amelia.

"It is alright, if we continue with our plans you won't have to be here anymore. You can live in town with me," he said trying to comfort her. Amelia shook her head. A tear slipped from her eye as she looked at the red rose.

"This is where I am going to plant my roses Millie, will you help me?" Mr. Bentley said picking up his seven year old daughter all dressed in pink.

"Yes papa! It will be so fun!" Amelia cried with excitement.

"They will be the most beautiful flower in the garden, but not nearly as beautiful as my little Amelia Rose!" he said as they rubbed noses. Amelia wiped away the tears and held the rose so tight that the thorns broke her skin and bled. Turning away from Philip she proceeded to the back entrance of the house leaving him standing without any explanation.

&

Peter stood behind Wendy as he tied a bow in her golden brown hair. They had always done everything for one another. Some say that there is almost a psychic connection between twins. Well Wendy and Peter were perfect examples of this theory. Without words they seemed to know what the other wanted done or to say. In their brightly coloured room the communicated without words. However, it was quite obvious what they were thinking. Both just wanted to comfort from the other.

"What are you two up to?" Mr. Bentley called to the two toddlers as he burst into their bedroom. Both jumped with fright but faces gave them away.

"Nothing Papa," Peter called as Wendy covered her mouth with her hand giggling.

"I don't believe that, you two trouble makers are always up to something!" He said running and grabbing his twins lifting them up making them cry with joy. Peter tied the bow big then rested his hands on his twin's shoulders. She reached and put her hands on his as they looked at each other in the mirror saying nothing.

&

Joanne rolled over in her feather bed moaning with the annoyance that she was sick. Thinking back to the previous night she regretted running out into the storm and staying there for most of the night. However, she knew she couldn't stand being in the house, in the house with her 'calm' mother who was poisoning her sisters and brother with the notion that everything was all right. She knew the reason her beloved father left was all her mothers fault – Joanne just didn't know what she had done.

Joanne and her mother never had a particularly good relationship. They were too similar in the temper. Her cool, calm father was always the one who smoothed out any arguments as her siblings were always too timid to get involved. There were numerous times that Joanne felt the need to run away just to get away from Mrs. Bentley but it was always her father or Lillian that brought her home. She was surprised she had the will and discipline to come home the previous night.

She was twelve again and her mother was trying to tell her that it was more important to marry young rather than gaining all the possible insight into life as one could. The result was Joanne running off in tears after her mother threw her favourite book into the fire saying she only had to know how to read to impress but nothing else, she didn't need the knowledge.

"Jo! Jo! Jo… there you are my precious, why are you hiding out here all by yourself. Mama is crying because she is so worried," Mr. Bentley said cradling his muddy daughter in his arms.

"I…I f-f-fell…in-into the m-m-mud papa," Joanne said sobbing, "Now m-m-my dress is d-d-dirty and m-m-mother will be angry," she said holding her father tight.

"Oh she will be happier to have you safe and sound in her arms," he said lifting her up with great strength. Joanne clutched her pillow tighter and squinted her eyes, it was her mother that sent her away the first time, and it was her mother who sent her father away too. Angry tears welled up in her eye she needed to get out.

"What do you want," Joanne slurred sensing her sister creeping across the floor. Lillian climbed into the bed with her little sister making Joanne roll over.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered.

"Like a dead dog," Joanne groaned.

"Well you shouldn't have run out into the storm," Lillian teased making Joanne groan. There was a heavy moment of silence, "Joanne, the house seems empty,"

"Yeah, a lot different without Papa waking us up in the morning isn't it," she said rolling over to face her sister. "I was reading about this place a couple of weeks ago. It is a colony in the Caribbean, apparently it is quite established and very beautiful,"

"Where did you read that?" Lillian puzzled, her sister did read and awful lot.

"Oh in one of Pa's…" she trailed off and there was another silence.

"Why did he leave?" Lillian breathed, tears choking her voice. Joanne closed her eyes.

"I can't stay here, not in this house I feel suffocated. Leave with me Lillian, please come away," Joanne whispered, scared.

"What about Katy, Millie, Wendy and Peter?" Lillian said sobbing.

"We will take them away too, all of us setting up a new life. Just I know, it will never work here not after what happened," Joanne said with more force looking at her sister. Lillian began shaking.

"And mother?" she asked, Joanne said nothing, "But we have grown up here in England, we will never fit in anywhere else. In anywhere in Europe or in the Caribbean," she said closing her eyes.

"We have to try," Joanne said clasping her sister's hand. It was evident to all of the Bentley children that they couldn't stay in the manner, and for some in the country. Whether or not to leave their mother behind was debateable, but to continue a normal life in that house was impossible. Money wasn't a problem but the memories were detrimental.

&

Will sat in his study writing as neat as possible on yellowing parchment. It was an invitation. He had taken the task of handwriting every single one and if there was the slightest fault he would scrunch it up and start again. Despite his unanimous popularity as governor he was still concerned and the need to impress was heavy on his heart. As he finished off the final curve of a letter Jack slammed the door open creating a grand entrance causing Will's hand to slip and create an ink line all over the page. Closing his eyes in frustration he looked to Jack, conjuring the sourest look he could muster.

"What?" Jack said flinging his hands in bewilderment. Will just shook his head and half-grinned at his friend.

"Jack to what do I owe this entrance?" He asked turning to the invite and assessing the mess.

"Well," Jack began wandering over to Will in the way he does, "I am telling you my plans for the next couple o' months. There is a ship comin' from … wha' do we have 'ere?" he asked swiping the invitation from Will's rough hands. "You are invited to celebrate William Turner's twenty-second birthday! By god are ye really tha' old? If you wish to join him come to blah, blah, blah Notify his house by the 24th of October. That's in eight weeks!" Jack said examining the words very closely. Will snatched it out of his hands with a look on his face.

"Yes Jack I am throwing a ball for my twenty-second birthday. And no you are not invited; people are not ready for you to come out with me in society. If people found out I was housing a pirate – there would be hell," Will said turning back to the invite.

"I am offended Mr. Turner! And now I know the details ye will see me anyway! Ha! Oh be ready for tha'! But I came to tell ye tha' I am sailing to meet an English carrier which is arriving in two months. 'Eaded for 'ere, so be prepared for some annoyed new citizens," Jack said making Will groan in annoyance.

"Jack I have to deal with these people!" he said.

"Yes an' I 'ave to deal with pirates! We won't take tha' much stuff, an' we won't 'urt 'em. Promise," he said extending his hand. Will shook it reluctantly knowing there was no arguing with Jack.

"You still can't come to my birthday party!"

(Thanks to all those reviewers! Here is another chapter up for you the Bentley's will be getting to the Caribbean soon– tell me your thoughts. Please review!)