The Clover and the Tartan
So this is already the penultimate chapter of this story. Many of you have felt it coming, it is not going to be a happy one but I hope you will forgive me… xD
Thanks Guest, weheartnoelle, supernatural318 and Rath101 for your reviews!
Guest: I hope you got your tissues ready, I cried writing this chapter. And then correcting it. And another time when I translated it. And again when I corrected the translation. Enjoy ! lol
Weheartnoelle: Months of mysteries and secrets, he had to expect something really unusual. And the baby helped a lot as well!
Supernatural318: I am indeed working on another Brianna/Bonnet fanfic (already 8 chapters are written and 2 translated), but I will not update as regularly as this one (with the baby coming and soon we'll be moving into a new house, I won't have time to write as much as I did). I hope you'll enjoy the next story, though!
Rath101: You will also be devastated before it's over, believe me… ahahah Thanks for you review!
oOo
36. Téir abhaile 'riú, a Mhéiri (Go home, Mary)
Over the weeks, the small community of Cajo Babo had kept expanding. Sailors with wives and children in the Thirteen Colonies or in Ireland had repatriated them to Cuba, and soon the sound of hammers and tools was replaced by that of children playing on the beach. Almost all of the major repairs had been finished before the beginning of the rainy season, the fields were yielding their first harvests, and O'Brien regularly reappeared with the Gloriana to unload food, mail and new inhabitants. He had also taken over some of Bonnet's former clients and continued to smuggle alcohol and other products in the North. The crew had gained about forty new members, as most of the former members had left after their stopover in Fort-Dauphin or wished to stay ashore at Cajo Babo, but O'Brien systematically left them on Hispaniola before he got to Cuba. Sailors from the original crew were strictly forbidden to reveal where they were taking the ship next, in case any of Lord Tryon's spies would hide among the new recruits. And it was on one hot July morning that the ex-first mate chose to reappear at lunch time.
"Any seats left for last minute guests?", Boyle said as he entered the dining room. From the chair she had slumped on, burdened by her round stomach, Brianna let out a cry of joy when she saw Boyle, O'Brien and Doherty on the doorstep. In other circumstances, and in another century, she would have jumped to hug them after long weeks of absence, but the mere idea of extricating herself from her seat dissuaded her to do so.
"Just add a few chairs", Murphy replied, helping Mary set the table. "Flanagan always prepares meals as if we were still eighty on the Gloriana. I'm wondering if he even noticed that we're not aboard anymore... Fortunately other people came to live here, otherwise we would all be as big as barrels."
"Or as Miss Brianna…", Boyle mocked, eyeing the young woman's plump stomach. She grabbed a napkin and used it to whip the thigh of the former sailor – now first mate – who burst into laughter.
"That's Mrs. Bonnet, for you, Mr. Boyle", Stephen growled, bursting into the room. "I was wondering why I suddenly felt like killing somebody, but that was just your voice I heard..."
"Friendly as ever…", Boyle whispered, winking at Brianna, as Stephen greeted O'Brien and Doherty. The quartermaster placed his bag on the table, causing a stemmed glass to rattle dangerously under Mary's exasperated gaze, and pulled out a box which he handed to Bonnet.
"We went to Havana on our way back from Charleston, I brought you some cigars…" Bonnet thanked him with a smile and Doherty put his hand into his bag again before heading to Brianna with a nice, finely-worked Spanish fan. "I thought you might appreciate a bit of fresh air..."
"Oh boy, yes!", Brianna exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm. She immediately opened the fan to wave it in front of her face and neck. The humidity of the Cuban summer was unbearable and the pregnancy was obviously not helping.
"All elegant women have them in Havana, I had to bring you one back...", the quartermaster said gently, aware that a few compliments never hurt a woman in her situation.
"Thank you, Mr. Doherty, but I think I'm anything but elegant at the moment…"
"Have you ever been elegant...?", Murphy muttered with a smirk. Brianna opened her mouth, outraged, and expected Stephen to call the old man to order, but the pirate chuckled quietly at his former carpenter's remark. With a theatrical sigh, she therefore chose to turn her attention back to O'Brien.
"Do you have any mail for me?", she asked without much conviction. Since she had written her letter to her mother at the end of February, it remained unanswered and Brianna was beginning to think that Jamie had simply decided to deny his own daughter for getting married to a fugitive criminal. But O'Brien slipped a hand into his jacket with a smirk.
"You mean, something like this?"
Brianna immediately held out both hands, like a child seeing one of his parents in the distance and asking to be hugged. O'Brien chuckled bringing the letter to her, and she opened it with shaky hands. "Seriously?", she exclaimed, reading the date her mother had replied. "April 27th? Two months to receive it and two and a half months to get it back?"
"It seems quite quick to me, considering all the stopovers the postal convoys had to make between Saint-Domingue and the North Carolina hinterland...", Doherty said, surprised by the young woman's annoyance. Brianna rolled her eyes and Stephen hid a smile: he knew full well how much Brianna regretted the speed of communication in her time, and all the more so now that her pregnancy hormones had deprived her of ninety percent of her usual patience. Which did not leave much of it...
"What does it say?", Stephen asked, sitting at the table.
"My mother wants to be there for the last two months, they should arrive in Fort-De-Paix by the end of July… Damn, they almost arrived before the mail…"
"I'll go get them, I'll make it an extra round trip to Saint-Domingue and bring back some fine French wines…", O'Brien said with a smile.
Stephen winced, but Brianna – being too immersed in her reading – didn't even notice. The three sailors did, though. "Why the long face?", O'Brien asked, raising an eyebrow.
The pirate growled. "Her father hates me..."
Brianna rolled her eyes, without interrupting her reading, and Bonnet went on:
"And he's a bloody giant. Can you imagine? The fellow fought at Culloden… and he survived."
"He's pretty sturdy, indeed…", Boyle reminded himself, narrowing his eyes. "And impressive. Those huge hands. I wouldn't want to get punched by one of them, for sure..."
"Your ears would probably ring for quite a while...", O'Brien said, before turning to his former captain. "Well... You will soon be able to tell us how it feels..."
Stephen was about to retort when Jimmy entered the dining room, sweating and the tip of his nose smeared with black dust. "What are you talking about?", he asked as Mary ran over to rub his nose with her apron, under Boyle's mocking gaze.
"Stephen is afraid of my father…", Brianna sighed as she folded the letter and placed it on the table.
Jimmy laughed. "Well, you can't blame him… He's a big lad. Not the kind of man you'd like to cross swords with."
"Or buy his daughter at the market..."
"Pipe down", Stephen growled as a chorus of sarcastic laughter erupted in the room. Fortunately, Flanagan soon arrived with several dishes which he laid out on the table before leaving to distribute the rest of the food to the other inhabitants of the island, directly to their homes. Mary sat down next to Brianna, to help her get some food without knocking everything over on the way – and also to chat – and Boyle decided to indulge in his favorite activity, which he hadn't been able to practice for far too long: annoying Jimmy. Walking casually to the chair next to Mary, Boyle was about to sit but the teenager rushed over and settled down, his eyes shooting daggers.
"Oooh, he bites...", Boyle cooed, pinching Jimmy's cheek. The boy was about to reply, but Mary turned to him and, seeming unhappy with her first attempt to remove the stain from the tip of his nose, licked one end of her apron and rubbed harder. Jimmy turned crimson and it was with Boyle's sarcastic laughter echoing through the room that lunch could begin.
~o~
In the late afternoon as usual, Mary walked over to Murphy's house, being careful not to be followed. However, the carpenter was not locked up in his cabin but comfortably settled in his rocking chair, facing the sea.
"Well, this is the first time I see you taking a rest before I come and ask you to...", the teenager taunted, standing in front of him with her arms crossed. Murphy lifted his nose and his sparkling eyes towards her, and she immediately understood what he was about to say.
"I'm not taking a rest… I'm finished."
Mary immediately clapped her hands while jumping up and down and the old man laughed. "Can I see?"
"What makes you think I'm going to show it to you before those concerned?"
The young girl stopped jumping and pouted. "I was the one who gave you the information before everyone else, without me this child would have to sleep in an old drawer..."
Murphy laughed again and rose from his chair, growling loudly. "I was joking… I was expecting you, actually. I need two more arms. I would like to arrange the whole thing nicely to show them tomorrow."
"At your service!"
The carpenter went back into his house, which now looked more like a workshop as the space was cluttered with tools, materials and objects of all kinds. Mary stifled an exclamation. "Oh, this is... This is fabulous! You did all of this?"
In front of her eyes was a magnificent wooden crib, topped with an arched support intended to fasten a thin veil to protect the child from insects. But that was not all: Murphy had also made a tiny chair for when the child would be old enough to sit down, a drawer cabinet and a cute tub, just big enough for the infant but not big enough to allow it to roll over or move in the water.
"I had plenty of time...", Murphy shrugged, but deep inside, he was gloating. The sparkle he saw in Mary's eyes, he would see it the next day in the eyes of the future parents. The young governess approached the crib and touched it with a shy hand, as if she was afraid of damaging it.
"It's fabulous… just fabulous…", she repeated in delight. "I knew you were the perfect man for this situation." She whirled around and lifted a solemn chin. "Know that I am already asking you to make one for me."
"I'm pretty sure you're too tall for a crib this size…", the old man quipped with a smile, before pointing at an open corner of the room. "Help me move it all over here..."
The furniture was beautiful, but quite heavy and Mary was happy they only had to move it over a few feet. Tomorrow, she would let a strong team of men do the work.
"You did finish all of this just in time, you know?", she gasped once they settled the drawer cabinet near the crib, covering everything with sheets. "Madam has been harassing me for days to go to the attic and see if there is any furniture that we could use for the baby, and I kept telling her that there was still time but she was being suspicious." The young girl sighed, a broad smile returning to her lips. "I can't wait to see their reaction… I bet you do too."
"What do you think?", Murphy chuckled, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. In this heat and humidity, the slightest physical activity instantly made him sweat and he was longing to take a swim into the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea.
"You are sweating... Would you like me to get you something to drink?"
"I have water here, you know… I do not entirely depend on you…", Murphy muttered as he stepped out to enjoy the breeze on the porch.
"I was thinking of something more festive… To celebrate your admirable work!"
The carpenter smiled and shook his head. "We will celebrate tomorrow, I'm sure of that..."
"Are you sure? Not even a glass of fresh lemon juice?"
"Go home, Mary, it's late…" He was grumbling as a matter of form, but he had gotten used to the girl's stubbornness and it almost amused him now.
"Alright, alright...", she sighed as she left the house. "See you tomorrow, cranky old man."
Murphy sank back into his rocking chair with a groan and stretched out his legs in front of him, watching the sunset like every evening. "See you tomorrow, you cheeky little devil."
Mary laughed as she went back to the master's house. Further west, the sun was already starting to fall, but everything was quiet in the house. Brianna had fallen asleep on a small sofa in the patio, surrounded by tropical flowers; the book she was reading had fallen flat on her stomach and Mary picked it up gently to close it after marking the page. Flanagan was in the kitchens preparing the evening meal, but other than that there was no one there. The men were probably somewhere in the fields and she had nothing to do.
"Are there any lemons left?", she whispered to Flanagan as she entered the kitchens. The giant silently pointed to a crate of freshly harvested fruits. Murphy would have his juice whether he liked it or not. He deserved it, after everything he had done. Ten minutes later, the young girl crossed the patio, where Brianna was still sleeping soundly, and came out of the house with a glass in her hand. The orange sky was particularly beautiful that evening and she couldn't help but to thank the Lord for placing her on Jimmy's path, as she carried her laundry. She who had wandered from harbor to harbor, from taverns to brothels, could not have asked for a better place to live a peaceful life.
Murphy probably shared her opinion on the beauty of the sky, for he had not moved from his chair and was staring at the sun, which was slowly disappearing behind the mountains towards Santiago. "I know what you think… I'm a stubborn lass, but I'm just taking care of you…", she quipped as she climbed the three steps to the porch. Only the sound of the waves nearby answered her, and she frowned, surprised that he wouldn't retort as usual. She took two more steps, eyeing the old man warily. Something was wrong with his attitude. He looked relaxed, as if he was sleeping, except his eyelids weren't closed. Mary put the glass on the small table on the porch and came closer. Her heart was pounding and a shiver ran through her spine without her really knowing why. But her body had understood what had just happened and reacted before her mind.
Murphy's stare was vacant and his head had tilted slightly to one side, as if he had leaned against the backrest for a nap. The last rays of the sun had fallen on his face, his blue eyes and gray beard, as if to salute him one last time. "Mr. Murphy…?", Mary said in a trembling voice.
One more step. At that distance, she could no longer ignore that the old man's chest did not move and she felt her lower lip tremble. "No…" The teenager dropped to her knees by the chair and patted Murphy's cheek to force him to lift his head. Without any effect. "Not now… I'm begging you, not now, not like this…"
Tears had started to roll down her cheeks but she didn't try to wipe them away. Leaving the carpenter's limp face, her hand rested against his left pectoral, where she would feel his heart pounding, proving to her that Murphy was so tired he had fallen sound asleep and just couldn't hear her. But there was no pulse. Under her palm, only absence and silence. The cruel nothingness of Death. Trembling and sobbing, Mary got up and ran her fingers over the carpenter's eyelids to close them. The sound of her shoes on the floor faded away as she ran towards the house. The sun disappeared behind the cliffs, plunging the small porch into darkness. Sean Murphy had passed away. His last work accomplished and his gaze forever on the ocean.
~o~
It had been decided that Sean Murphy would rest on their land. A beautiful location had been chosen a little higher up the mountains, on a section of hill that was unusable for crops and facing the beach he loved so much. After a couple of hours spent digging his final resting place in the morning, Stephen and a few sailors had wrapped his body in his old hammock before burying it. Then one by one, they slowly went back to the beach, with heavy hearts. Only Stephen refused to go and following O'Brien's advice, Brianna left him by the grave of the only vaguely parental figure he had ever had.
Boyle had escorted Brianna home, helping her down the hill so she wouldn't fall and hurt herself, closely followed by Jimmy and Mary walking hand in hand.
"I wish I had spent more time with him the past few weeks…", Jimmy whispered, his eyes watering. "Since we're ashore, everyone has their home, their tasks, life was different than on the ship and I..."
His voice broke and he closed his mouth, unable to finish his sentence. Mary shook her head and smiled weakly. "He was pretty busy himself…" She bit her lip and slowed down to let Boyle and Brianna get ahead of them. "I need to show you something. I need someone else's advice, because I am too upset to make a decision on my own."
Jimmy frowned but followed the teenager to the beach, where she headed for Murphy's house. Making sure no one was watching, she opened the door and stepped inside, while the boy remained on the porch. The thought of entering a dead man's house so quickly disturbed him and he wondered what the young governess was hiding.
"Come in, damn it! Before someone asks us what we're doing here!", she hissed and Jimmy obeyed uncomfortably. Murphy's house was a mess, filled with tools and wooden boards of all sizes; the only clear space was his bed where the men had laid his body for the night before the burial. In the opposite corner of the room, some oddly arranged furniture had been protected by sheets. And it was towards them that Mary walked. Jimmy wrinkled his nose and the girl pulled back the sheets, revealing a crib and several other pieces of furniture specifically designed for a nursery. Jimmy's lower jaw dropped to his chest and he was speechless for a few moments, unable to utter a word.
"Mr. Murphy finished the last one yesterday and… we wanted to offer them today, but now… I wouldn't dare… I don't know if…" It was Mary's turn to be unable to finish her sentence and she shrugged nervously, her eyes filling with tears.
Jimmy cautiously approached the crib, examining the details carved into the wood. "That's what he's been doing for months? We were wondering what he was up to because we didn't see him working on his house..."
"Yes... and with the recent events... I don't know if I should show them..."
Jimmy ran a hand over the drawer cabinet, elegantly lacquered, and shook his head. "You have to. It's a wonderful gift, but… We should wait for a day or two… Today would be too much…"
Mary nodded. Jimmy's eyes filled with tears again and she walked over to hug him. Before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately regretting her gesture when she saw the young man's surprised look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…"
But Jimmy didn't give her time to apologize and awkwardly crushed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately for the very first time.
~o~
As agreed, a few days later as life slowly resumed its course in Cajo Babo, Jimmy showed up for breakfast, glancing at Mary. She raised her eyebrows, as if to ask him if it wasn't too early, and he nodded in response. Too absorbed in their silent conversation, they didn't see Stephen, Brianna and O'Brien staring at them both.
"Is there a problem?", the young woman asked, startling the two teenagers. Stephen just looked up, expectantly. He had hardly said a word since Murphy had been found lifeless in his chair.
"Not really… but…", Mary stammered, looking at her boyfriend, who rushed to help her.
"Mary has something to show you. Would you please follow us?", he asked before glancing at Brianna. "It's in Mr. Murphy's house, you won't have to walk far."
Stephen had stiffened at the mention of the carpenter's name, but after exchanging a knowing look with his wife, the two of them stood up, soon imitated by O'Brien. The latter raised his index finger, asking if he was allowed to go with them too, and Jimmy nodded. They all set off for the beach, Brianna intertwining her fingers with Stephen's. The closer they got to Murphy's house, the more he looked ready to run away. When they reached the porch, Mary opened the door and motioned for them to enter. Brianna stepped forward but was held back by her hand, still caught in Stephen's. The pirate wasn't moving, as if he couldn't bring himself to enter the small cabin now that its owner was gone. Jimmy saw her whisper something into her husband's ear and he finally approached the entrance, Mary leading the way to the corner where she and Murphy had placed the children's furniture.
Brianna's eyes widened at the sight of the carpenter's work and she let out a surprised and painful moan. Behind her, Stephen had let go of her hand and was staring at the furniture with an undefinable expression.
"He was just finished when… He wanted to give them to you the following day", Mary whispered, as Brianna placed a shaking hand on the crib, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I did not know whether I should tell you, but Jimmy said-"
"You did the right thing", Brianna interrupted, sniffling. "He wouldn't have wanted us to leave it here… This… This is amazing." She turned to Stephen, who was still frozen by the doorway and her heart instantly broke. The pirate's face, which had remained incredibly neutral and cold for days, expressed a pain that was beyond comprehension and before she had a chance to stop him, he had turned on his heel and ran out of the place. "Stephen!"
Brianna was about to follow him, but O'Brien raised a soothing hand and disappeared after him.
"I'm sorry… It was too soon…", Jimmy whispered, glancing worriedly at Brianna, but she shook her head, drying her wet cheeks.
"No, don't apologize. I'm not sure his reaction would have been different in six days, six weeks, or six months…" She sniffed again and ran her hands over each piece of furniture with a weary smile. "It's a wonderful gift..."
"Do you want it to be brought up to the baby's room or would you rather wait?", Mary asked.
"Bring them up", Brianna replied abruptly. "I don't want to risk them being damaged or destroyed by a storm."
"I'll send some men...", Jimmy said before leaving the house. A few minutes later, he was back with about fifteen men and in less than half an hour, all the furniture had been carried to the house and set up in the nursery. Brianna dreaded Stephen's reaction when he would come back, but she just couldn't let this wonderful gift gather dust in an empty house. Murphy wouldn't have liked that.
The pirate did not reappear all day. Not even at sunset, when Flanagan and Mary served dinner. Boyle, Doherty and Jimmy had kept Brianna company, trying to take her mind off things and assuring her that O'Brien would not let his former captain down and they would eventually come back, wherever they were. The last candles in the dining room were about to give up the ghost when Brianna decided to go to bed, alone and exhausted. She was sleeping soundly when the thunder rumbled in the distance, higher up on the mountains, and she awoke with a start, sweating and her mouth dry. The humidity had increased suddenly during the night and she winced as she felt her nightgown unpleasantly stick to her back. Extracting herself from the bed, she walked over to the pitcher and glass of water that they kept in their room, but it was empty.
With a sigh, Brianna lit a candle with a flintlock lighter, grabbed the pitcher and left the room. The nursery door was open and she paused for a moment on the threshold, admiring the dark silhouette of Murphy's furniture. Suddenly, a blue bolt of lightning flashed through the cloudy sky, illuminating the room for a few seconds through the shutters and the young woman suppressed a cry of surprise. Sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall and his arms resting on his knees, Stephen cowered among the shadows, as silent as a mouse. Another lightning lit up the room just before the thunder rumbled, confirming to Brianna that it was indeed her husband. Putting the pitcher on the floor in the hallway, she silently entered the room, unsure whether he was sleeping or not. But when she got close enough to his face, she could only see that his eyes were wide open and staring at her from the wooden floor. A wave of relief seized the young woman as she knelt down in front of him; she wouldn't have been comfortable knowing that he was outside with the approaching storm. But Stephen's expression was so painful she felt her nose sting and her lips quiver.
"I didn't know if you wanted them here, but I thought this was the right thin-", she began, soon interrupted by a sudden movement. Stephen had grabbed her thighs with both hands to pull her towards him, before resting his warm forehead against Brianna's round stomach. And despite the silence and absolute immobility of the Irishman, she knew without even seeing him that for the very first time, he was crying.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Okay, I know you hate me right now, but you can't really enjoy a happy ending if you don't cry a lot first. Yes, believe me. Anyway, I can't wait to read your reactions (even if you're crying hard) to this chapter and I look forward to seeing you next Monday for the final episode of this adventure. (But not the last story I write about this couple, don't worry!) Have a nice week!
Xérès