The Clover and the Tartan
Well, here we are! The last chapter of this fiction. I had a great time writing it, making my babies meet, making them fall in love, making them live amazing adventures... I didn't want this to end T_T Hope you enjoy this final chapter!
Thanks Weheartnoelle and Guest for your reviews, thanks everyone who reviewed more or less regularly throughout this fiction, and also thank you ghost readers (you won't be forgotten)!
Weheartnoelle: it was honestly one of the most heartbreaking chapters of my entire life, but also a beautiful ending for Mr. Murphy. Hope you'll enjoy this final chapter!
Guest: don't worry, Mr. Murphy will not be forgotten! He's still very much present in this chapter… Stay tuned for more Brianna/Bonnet adventures, I'm not done with that pairing… ;)
oOo
37. Mo Stóirín (My little darling)
Claire and Jamie Fraser had arrived in Cajo Babo aboard the Gloriana three weeks later. The ship that had brought them from North Carolina had anchored in a harbor, east of Saint-Domingue. O'Brien was waiting for them there with a large smile, although he was somewhat disappointed to find that the fierce little blonde from Wilmington had not travelled with them. Brianna had spotted the ship as soon as he it had appeared on the horizon and was already on the beach when the rowboat reached the land. Claire immediately hugged her daughter, as tight as possible due to her bulky belly. The closer she was to the fateful date, the more she felt like she was swelling a bit more every day, not to mention her legs that the stifling heat of August was turning into two painful flesh poles. Her anxiety level was also going up and despite her mother's reassuring presence, Brianna kept brooding over everything she knew about eighteenth century childbirth: the high death rate, the complications that were impossible to avoid and even if she tried to hide it from Stephen, she was starting to lose sleep.
"This house is amazing!", Claire breathed as she stepped into the small flowered patio, marveling at the colorful and fragrant flowers.
"I fell in love with it at first sight...", Brianna admitted, who slowly followed them, arching her back with a slight grimace. Jamie glanced suspiciously at the inner gallery that circled the patio and its railings that didn't exactly look fresh and young.
"Ye said nobody wanted tae buy the place?"
"It's very isolated... and exposed to tropical storms, but we're getting quite good at handling those now! Come with me, I'll show you to your room."
Jamie and Claire followed their daughter upstairs to a room she had prepared for them, but as they passed the future nursery, her mother couldn't help but have a look inside. "The furniture is beautiful, where did you find it?", she asked, noticing the difference from the rest of the furniture in the house.
Brianna's smile faded a bit and she felt a lump down her throat. Three weeks had passed since Murphy's death, he was still sorely missed and the sight of his last present – in combination with hormones – regularly brought tears to her eyes.
"Do you remember Mr. Murphy?"
"The cranky old man who looks like my Uncle Dougal?", Jamie asked with a smirk. The carpenter was the only pirate who had inspired him any confidence during their meeting at Fergus and Marsali's house. Brianna let out a small laugh, her voice ready to break, and nodded.
"He passed away three weeks ago. Right after making this furniture…" Brianna put a hand on the cradle. "He was the closest thing to a father to Stephen and… things have been a bit complicated ever since…"
"What happened to him?", Claire asked with a sorry expression.
"Probably a heart attack or ruptured aneurysm... It's hard to know without a proper medical exam but... it was that kind of quick and inevitable death. In this century, at least."
"I'm sorry…", Jamie whispered and Brianna smiled when he saw that he looked sincere. "Where is he, anyway... yer... hum..."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Her husband, Jamie. Her husband." The Scot scowled at the words, but Brianna wasn't offended.
"Probably inspecting the crops or helping someone fix something somewhere... He seems to think that if he works himself to death every day, he will forget that one of us is missin'-ouch!" Brianna put a hand to her stomach and breathed in deeply, as Claire approached with a frown.
"Bree, is everything all right?"
"I'm okay! Well, I think so. I'm not exactly an expert…"
Claire turned to her husband. "How about you take a walk around the estate? You'll surely find Mr. Bonnet or someone else to show you around... I want to examine Bree."
"Is that wise?", the young woman quipped. "I am much too young to be a widow."
Claire burst out laughing and shook her head. "Don't worry about that, I've spent the entire journey lecturing him..."
"I will ken how tae behave, sassenach. If he does the same with me...", Jamie muttered, smiling nonetheless. And after a last loving look towards both women, he went back downstairs and left the house. Although he didn't exactly like to see Brianna married to a dangerous pirate – who was wanted in at least two of the thirteen colonies – he had to admit that he had found a perfect place for them. Enjoying the soothing sound of the waves, he made his way to the first outbuildings a hundred yards away. Women and children lived there as well and he deduced that some of the sailors had asked their families to join them.
"Looking for something?", O'Brien's voice said behind his back. The young captain was smoking a cigar on the porch of a small house. "Or maybe someone?"
"Well, I wanted tae have a look at the surroundings…", Jamie began as the Irishman smirked.
"He's hiding."
"I beg yer pardon?"
"Captain Bonnet. He's hiding." O'Brien's smile widened and he tucked his cigar between his lips to take a puff. "I think you terrify him."
Jamie straightened up slightly and lifted his chin, as if someone had just paid him a compliment. "Good."
The young man chuckled and motioned for him to follow suit. They crossed the estate towards the fields, then took the direction of the hills where larger houses were being built for big families. The sound of hammers and axes echoed through the valley, as the men yelled at each other to co-ordinate their efforts. On a roof nearby, Jamie immediately recognized the cabin boy's freckled face, but the teenager had changed a lot in the past few months: a healthier diet and physical labor had considerably put some flesh and muscle on his bones. But his candid smile was still exactly the same.
"Oh! Hello, Mr. Fraser!", Jimmy said unnecessarily loudly, before casting a sarcastic look at the man who was working next to him, his back turned on the newcomers. The man jumped violently, dropping the wooden shingle he was about to nail to the frame. He made a hasty gesture to catch it, but the shingle fell off the roof and landed on top of Lowett's head a few feet below.
"Hey, watch out up there!", the sailor bellowed, rubbing the top of his head.
The clumsy workman straightened up and Jamie immediately recognized Bonnet's blond head. He too had visibly recovered his strength and a few pounds since their last meeting in River Run. Slowly, the ponytail turned and Stephen peered cautiously over his shoulder, as if he was expecting a single of Jamie Fraser's glances to burn him to ashes.
"Hello, Mr. Bonnet…", the Scot said in an excruciatingly calm and neutral voice. So calm that Stephen considered for a few seconds never to come down from that roof, even if it meant dying of hunger and thirst before the end of the month. Beside Fraser, O'Brien was puffing on his cigar with a smile that betrayed how much he enjoyed that awkward moment and Bonnet glared at him. Screwing up his courage, he climbed down the ladder and approached his father-in-law with his usual swaying gait. The two men stared at each other for a moment and around them the valley itself – as well as all of its inhabitants – seemed to hold their breaths. Except O'Brien, who blew a thick cloud of smoke with a mocking sneer. After endless seconds, Jamie reached out his right hand, stiff as a poker. Deep down, he hoped for only one thing: that the pirate refused to salute him politely, giving him a good reason to hate him. But Bonnet did not fall into his trap and took the outstretched hand in his. A brief fight ensued, during which they both tried to crush the other's fingers, before their handshake ended, under the crew's relieved faces.
"Where's Mrs. Fraser?", Stephen asked in a voice that was just as calm as Jamie's a few moments earlier. The absence of the only person who could reason with the skirt-wearing giant wasn't exactly reassuring.
"She's examining our daughter."
Of course he said "our daughter"... not "Brianna" or "yer wife"..., Bonnet thought with a fake smile.
"Mr. Fraser wanted to take a look around the property…", O'Brien interrupted, still wearing the same exasperating expression.
Stephen's jaw clenched, and he glared at his ex-first mate, wondering how he had been able to endure his perpetual sarcasm for so many years. O'Brien wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and turned to leave, sending the Scot one last dazzling smile. Suppressing a long and weary sigh, Stephen reached out to invite Jamie to follow him, which he did. But not without giving in to the urge to needle the man who had stolen his daughter.
"Such a place must be expensive tae maintain... A guid thing ye spent years increasing yer revenues on the backs of the Crown..."
"Um… Got the idea from your Regulators friends…", Stephen retorted immediately.
Jamie's face immediately darkened, cut to the quick, but the pirate's smirk reminded him that he had started that little game and deserved it. Tight as a couple of drums, both men headed for the river at the western limit of the property and Jimmy watched them walk away, shaking his head.
"It's going to be one very, very long visit…", he muttered, taking his hammer back in hand.
Below, Lowett chuckled and turned to another of his colleagues. "I'll put two pounds on them hitting each other before dinner..."
"Deal."
~o~
Against all odds – and much to Jamie Fraser's surprise – no one hit anyone that day. The pirate was not always polite, he certainly got a tongue of his own and his thuggish attitude did not work in his favor. But if there was one thing the Scot had noticed throughout their tour of the estate, it was the cheerful greetings echoing in their wake. No one here seemed to hate or fear the former captain of the Gloriana, in sharp contrast to the rumors that could be heard about him on the mainland. Bloodthirsty, cruel, ruthless... These were just a few of the adjectives that came with Stephen Bonnet's name along the East Coast. But here, the man seemed more respected than feared. And loved. By none other than his own daughter, an educated, clever and independent young woman. Brianna must have seen something in him that other people didn't… or didn't want to see, he added inwardly.
Something had changed in Bonnet's eyes as well. On their very first meeting in the jail, the pirate had that crazy undefinable look and he kept staring into empty corners, as if he saw things that were indiscernible to the common run of people. He had been insolent and arrogant. He had also intentionally hurt him by comparing him to Frank. The Irishman was smart, he knew how to push one's buttons. Even chained, emaciated and tortured, he had had the audacity to look down on him. And Jamie had not liked that at all.
After his escape, however, Bonnet had kept a low profile, as if he knew he was out of place in River Run. Then he had fled, as Jamie had hoped, but that was without counting on his daughter's stubbornness. Again, the Scotsman had had a hard time to accept that his Brianna – with which he had only lived for two short months – would rather run away with an outlaw instead of spending time with them at Fraser's Ridge. But he had resigned himself, secretly praying that she would eventually come to her senses and go back home.
Today, however, he was ready to give Bonnet an actual chance. Not because Brianna had chosen him, not because he had proved himself worthy of her… But just because of this tiny change, some kind of wisdom… and maybe a hint of sadness too, that he could now see in the captain's eyes. Something that had never been there before. He had left a reckless and angry teenager in an adult body. Today, he met a man, a husband and soon a responsible father.
August passed peacefully, despite the scorching temperatures and almost daily thunderstorms. Brianna's stomach seemed to have doubled in size again and she spent most of her days sitting, legs outstretched, in a peaceful water hole among the rocks, hoping to cool off and soothe the pain in her swollen calves and feet. Every evening in the cool patio, she played conkers with Boyle, the only fun activity she could do while sitting, before collapsing heavily into her bed next to Stephen, whose growing apprehension was written all over his face. As for Claire and Jamie, the turquoise waters, tropical flowers and fine sand of Cajo Babo had seduced them so much that their stay had turned into holidays – a bit like the honeymoon they never had. But the holidays were cut short, when on a particularly sweltering and muggy afternoon, a hoarse howl echoed in the house. Claire had not left Brianna for a few days – as she had been complaining more and more regularly of characteristic pain in her back – and no sooner had she let out her first scream, than the surgeon had her daughter transported to the upper floor where everything was already set up for an imminent delivery. Jamie had run across the estate to fetch Stephen, while Mary and Claire huddled around the young mother with clean towels, hot water, and instruments.
"God dammit", Brianna growled, her hands clutching the armrests of the chair she was sitting on, legs apart on the very edge. Lying on the bed was way too painful and she had given up on the idea half an hour earlier. "How has mankind... not already died out...? It hurts so bad..."
"Patriarchy? The Church's ban on all forms of birth control?", Claire suggested with a smile, but deep down she was quite anxious about the situation. Her daughter, her sweet baby girl, her flesh and blood seemed to be in agony, when Claire herself had been able to benefit from painless childbirth (even a little too much to her liking) under general anesthesia.
Brianna let out a nervous laugh, soon replaced by another throaty growl. Kneeling between her daughter's legs, Claire winced. After almost three hours of pain, the cervix was only an inch dilated. This was going to be long... Bonnet had already dropped by several times to inquire about the situation, as if he expected to have his child in his arms before dinner time. Exasperated, Brianna had soon yelled "My whole body is breaking in half; do you really expect it to do that in five minutes?" in such an aggressive tone that the pirate had retreated downstairs to pour himself a large glass of whiskey, soon imitated by Boyle who had turned dangerously pale at the sound of the young woman's screams. Soon, night had fallen and the pale moon had pierced the thick cloud layer to light up the beach. Stephen was going around in circles like a cat in a bag, from the porch to the living room, sometimes up the stairs, before he froze and went back to the porch. He had clearly understood that his incessant comings and goings were annoying Brianna and that she didn't need him and his anxieties as a bonus.
A dozen hours after the first contractions, Mary ran down the stairs to announce that it shouldn't take long. The young girl gave a reassuring smile, but Stephen didn't miss the brief nod she gave Jamie Fraser, inviting him to come upstairs with her. The Scotsman rushed up to the second floor, while the pirate forced himself not to follow him. But it only lasted a few seconds. Abruptly rising from the chair where he had managed to sit for a few minutes without moving, he climbed up the stairs as well, reaching the landing just as Mary said the words: "Your wife thinks there is a problem."
"What problem?", Stephen hissed, startling the governess.
Mary looked at both men in panic, rubbing her hands on her apron. "Mrs. Bonnet is in a lot of pain and although her body seems ready to deliver the baby... it does not."
Stephen had suddenly turned paler than the white walls and he rushed towards the bedroom. Before Mary could hold him back, he had pushed the door open and joined Brianna who was no longer on her chair but on the floor, half slouched against the bed end but not fully lying down either. She was covered in sweat, and looked exhausted, almost sick. He placed a kiss on her sweaty forehead, and this time, the young woman did not send him away and squeezed his hand in hers, almost crushing it.
"Is that why you wanted her to come? You were worried about giving birth here and you thought she could help?", he whispered, as Brianna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Claire glanced at Bonnet in surprise, before sending Brianna a questioning look. When her daughter opened her eyelids, she nodded.
"He knows everything, Mama."
Claire bit her lip and stared at Stephen worriedly, but also with an immense gratitude. For having accepted their family's strange history and standing by Brianna's side, regardless. "Yes, I guess she was scared…", Claire replied softly. Quite rightly…
Brianna felt a new wave of pain rise from her stomach and Claire went back to work, trying to find the reason why this child refused to leave the womb. The young woman was pushing with all her might and the top of the baby's head was now perfectly visible. But something seemed to be blocking...
Holding one of her instruments, the healer was trying to have a better view, when a shiver suddenly ran down her spine. She frowned. "Light!", she barked at Jamie standing in the doorway. He drew one of the candles closer, trying not to look at his daughter's private parts, but his eyes fell on his wife's panicked expression. And he wasn't the only one who had seen it. Brianna's and Stephen's eyes widened.
"What is going on?", she moaned, trembling.
Part of the child's head was out, purplish, and by the candlelight, aided by her instrument, Claire could now see a thick roll between the neck and the shoulder. The cord… She had to be quick. Get a clear angle to cut the cord before the baby suffocated for good, even if it wasn't fully out. Quickly, she turned to grab her scalpel and forceps, but Brianna had started to gasp. What Claire was about to say would not be pleasant to hear, especially for the young father, but the last thing she needed was Brianna's level of stress to get worse.
"Jamie, get him out."
"Wait-", the pirate began angrily.
"OUT!"
Claire's voice was so harsh that Brianna immediately let go of her husband's hand and Stephen pulled away, trembling with rage and fear. When mother and daughter were alone again, Claire took Brianna's hand in hers.
"I know you're scared, Bree, but you have to calm down and push as hard as you can. The cord is wrapped around the baby's neck, but if I can cut it in time, everything will be fine…" As her daughter's face fell, she added hastily: "It's quite common, do not panic. I just need space to cut the cord. So you have to push!"
Brianna nodded and closed her eyes, wincing in pain as she mustered the last of her strength to gain a few precious inches. Outside the room, Jamie was leading Stephen downstairs, but the pirate couldn't stand any physical contact or eyes on him anymore. He felt himself slowly drifting back into darkness and anger, two things that had left him for months and though invaded him again, more violently than ever. He couldn't lose Brianna. Not right after Murphy. He would go crazy. He was already going mad at the mere sight of her body sweating in pain. Pushing Jamie's outreached hand away, he ran down the stairs. He had to get out, get some air. Hear the sound of the waves instead of Brianna's heartbreaking screams of agony.
He strode across the living room as Boyle and O'Brien watched in surprise. Doherty had fallen asleep on one of the sofas and Jimmy had sunk into an armchair as well. How can they even sleep? But he didn't stop to know the answer and left the house to head for the beach. When the waves licked the end of his boots, he closed his eyes and tried to calm his heavy breathing. He had wanted this child out of pure selfishness, to be sure Brianna would stay with him. But if she died tonight while giving birth, he would never forgive himself. He would just have to jump off the nearest cliff and join her in Death.
The sand crunched behind him and he looked briefly over his shoulder. Jamie Fraser had followed him and he had to suppress a groan. The last thing he needed was someone to tell him that he had put Brianna in danger. That she would have been better off in her own century, safe and receiving medical care. He already knew all of this. He knew it because he had spent months thinking about it, over and over again, every day since he had found that damn newspaper article.
"I dinnae blame ye", Fraser said, a few feet behind him. Stephen let out a sarcastic laugh, as if he didn't believe it for a second. But Jamie didn't give up and came closer, stopping at Stephen's right. "I think I might be a bit jealous even."
This time, he had aroused the pirate's curiosity (and perhaps also his indignation), and he stared at him in amazement. How was it possible to be jealous of a man in his situation? A man who didn't know if he would still be married or widowed by sunrise?
"Dinnae get me wrong, I am terrified… that my daughter could…" He stopped before saying the dismal words and shook his head. "But I have faith in Claire. Maybe too much sometimes…", he added with a brief laugh.
"It's my fault she's still here. She didn't want to leave me and I was too weak to pull her away from me for good…", Stephen spat. Silence fell between them, and Jamie couldn't help but wince.
"From one time traveler's husband tae another, would ye allow me tae make a comment?"
Stephen rolled his eyes and let out a long, exasperated sigh, before nervously biting his thumbnail. "Please do, I don't think anything will stop you anyway..."
For a moment, Jamie found a bit of the angry young man he had met in the past and held back a smile.
"Brianna kent that if she got pregnant, she would have tae leave as soon as possible so as not tae put the bairn at risk while travelling through the stones... She decided tae stay, and offer ye something I never had: the joy of seeing my bairn being born. See her grow and raise her. She didnae want tae deprive ye of that, as I did when I forced Claire tae leave. A decision I regretted for twenty years. And still do."
"Excuse me, but I'm not exactly feeling the joy here…", Stephen retorted. "In her century, with medicine and all the… the instruments, … she would already be holding the child in her arms right now if I-." He paused for a moment. "If I hadn't been so selfish."
"Ye're reit... But she would hold the bairn all alone. She would hold him knowing that his father – the man she loves – has been dead and gone for two hundred years. Knowing that she could never tell him about ye. Or anyone else, actually. She would probably mourn ye for the rest of her life and never find someone tae be happy with. She would die old, aye, but bitter and broken, just like Claire was until she came back tae find me. Yer selfishness wisnae what forced her tae stay here... She was being selfish as well."
Stephen blinked several times. He had never thought of it that way and yet Brianna's many allusions to the pain Frank and Claire had endured, trying to save their long-lost marriage, should have tipped him off. Jamie smiled, as he saw on Bonnet's face that his words had hit home.
"If Brianna chose tae stay and suffer from pains that modern medicine could have prevented, the least we can do is respect her decision."
Stephen hated to admit it, but Fraser had almost convinced him. However, his brain still resisted, probably out of habit. "Even if she survives today… What if the next child kills her? What if she's carried off by illness?"
"It would be the same in two hundred years. But at least in this century, she isnae on her own." Jamie gently patted Stephen on the shoulder, who cringed reflexively, but the Scot didn't mind. "No one kens what will happen, here or… anywhere else. We are all at the mercy of fate, no matter how advanced medicine or technology is. What matters are the choices we make… and never regret them."
A bigger wave brought a few inches of water up to them and Stephen looked down at his wet boots. To his right, Fraser seemed quite satisfied with his little speech and stepped back slowly, probably to give him time to process it all. He was already a few yards away when the pirate turned around.
"You really don't blame me for ruining Brianna's life?"
Jamie froze and smiled, before turning around. "Of all the weeks I've spent with my daughter, I have never seen her happier than here with ye... Am I jealous? Without a doubt. Do I blame ye? I lied earlier: the answer is aye. But is it fair to say that ye ruined her life?" Jamie shook his head. "Nae. Definitely not."
Bonnet pursed his lips, his eyes staring at the white sand. But when he looked up, Jamie saw a genuine smile on his face for the very first time. Jamie couldn't help but feel a hint of pride, and walked back to the house.
Upstairs, the situation had sped up and once Claire finally managed to clamp a piece of cord and free the child's neck, Brianna pushed again to help her mother get the motionless child out of her. But the silence in the room was even more frightening than the hours she had just spent screaming.
"Why isn't he crying? Why isn't he crying?", she yelled as she saw her mother bustling around the child's airways. With her fingers, she took away some mucus, before flipping the baby upside down and slapping him on the buttocks, as she had been taught when she had studied medicine. The child's skin was purplish, which was normal in this situation, but it was crucial for him to breathe on his own quickly. Long seconds passed, during which Brianna felt ready to burst into tears, but after a second slap, a little harder than the previous one, the child opened his mouth wide, expelling more slimy mucus... and let out a hoarse cry.
"Oh… thank God…", Claire groaned, setting the child back upright. On the floor, Brianna's arms were outstretched, fingers spread out, and Claire hastened to introduce her to the tiny, still slightly bluish little boy she had just brought into the world. "You can't keep him, Brianna, there will soon be the placenta to expel and I also have some stitches to do..."
"Five minutes... Just five minutes...", her daughter pleaded, tears now rolling freely down her cheeks. The last minute of silence had scared her more than anything else in her entire life.
"I'll go get Mr. Bonnet!", Mary said with a broad smile. "He'll take care of the baby while you finish working, Mrs. Fraser!"
Claire nodded with a smile and allowed herself to take a deep breath for the first time in hours. When the governess came back, she was followed by an overjoyed Irishman whose smile disappeared as soon as he discovered the state of their bedroom. A war seemed to have been waged here, and judging by Brianna's tears and crazy smile, this was certainly the case. He then looked at the baby's weird colors and turned to Claire in alarm.
"Why is he…?"
"And that is the reason I asked you to leave, Mr. Bonnet…", the healer replied, wiping her hands covered with various fluids on a clean cloth. "The umbilical cord was wrapped around your child's neck and was strangling him. The color will be back to normal very soon, now that he is breathing normally."
Stephen turned pale and looked back at Brianna with a newfound respect for her. How could women survive all these atrocities and still smile so widely a few minutes later, as if nothing happened? He approached cautiously and sat down next to her on the floor to gaze at the tiny human being they both had created. Tiny but surprisingly noisy...
"Mary is going to clean him up a bit and swaddle him in a blanket. After that, you'll be free to go and introduce your son to everyone who has been kind enough to wait downstairs…", Claire told Stephen, but Brianna opened her eyes wide and shook her head frantically.
"No, no, let me have him a little longer..."
"Bree…", Claire grumbled, motioning for her to let the child go. "I told you, it's not over yet..."
The floor creaked loudly and both women stared at Stephen in surprise. The Irishman had shuddered so violently that the house itself had protested. "You mean… there is another baby?"
"Good heavens, no", Brianna muttered, horrified at the mere thought of having to go through this twice. But Stephen's puzzled expression told them he genuinely didn't know what was going to happen next. Chuckling, Claire passed the baby to Mary and Mary rolled her eyes.
"Believe me, Sir, there are things that men don't even know exist and it's better that way. Come with me, let's clean up this little bundle of joy!"
Claire pursed her lips to suppress a mocking smile, as Brianna watched her son leave the room, with a heavy heart. She vaguely felt Stephen's hand go through her sweaty hair and his lips kiss her forehead, then resigned herself to abandoning the baby to her husband and governess, while her mother went back to work.
~o~
After a first arduous feed, the newborn had fallen into a peaceful sleep, lying flat between his parents. Stephen couldn't look away from him, both fascinated and terrified. How could such a small and frail human being survive in this cruel and ruthless world? Those tiny fists were still unable to defend themselves, and those legs didn't know how to run away from the enemy. For months, and even years, their son would entirely depend on them for food, protection... And to say he wasn't feeling equal to the task was an understatement.
On the other side of the bed, Brianna tried to shift on the mattress, but the slightest movement of her pelvis or legs made her wince and grunt. As each time he saw her in pain, guilt washed over him and he clenched his teeth. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault childbirths hurt, you know that, right?" Brianna whispered, smiling through her greeted teeth.
"Then I'd rather not take any more risks and never touch you again"
The young woman chuckled. "You wouldn't last ten days. And just because it was difficult this time doesn't mean it will be for the others."
"The others? How many times exactly do you plan to scare me to death?" As Brianna stifled a laugh, he shook his head and added: "No, next time I'll take you back to Inverness. You will go back to your century and… then you will come back here. Safe and sound."
Brianna instantly stopped laughing and stared at him. "And leave you both here? Not knowing if I or our child will be able to come back?"
"Your mother could."
"Nobody knows how it works… it could very well end overnight and I would be alone, in a world where you would be dead."
Stephen looked down. "You wouldn't be alone. MacKenzie would take care of you."
The young woman sighed and reached out to stroke her husband's cheek. The movement exerted a slight strain on her stomach but she ignored it. "When I left River Run… I told Roger that if he was to find any other documents like this article... he should not come back to save me. Even though I hadn't made up my mind about us yet, I think at that moment, deep inside… I knew I was here to stay. That my life, or a big part of it, would be here by your side." The Irishman opened his mouth to protest but she didn't give him time to interrupt. "I don't want to live in a world where you don't exist. Not even for nine months, nine weeks, or nine minutes. I'd rather face danger here a thousand times than lead a safe life there. I want to fall asleep with you, wake up with you, make love and share every moment of my existence with you." Looking down at the infant, she added in a low voice: "Watch Sean grow up with you…"
As expected, Stephen flinched and stared at her in amazement.
"Sean Alexander Franklin Bonnet...", she went on, looking down on her son. "After three amazing fathers. Alexander is one of Jamie's middle names. Franklin was Frank's full name. And Sean…"
"Mr. Murphy was not my-"
"He was." She nodded, as her throat tightened slightly in emotion. "In his own way he was."
The Irishman shivered slightly and turned his attention back to their son, who didn't seem bothered in the least by their conversation. Weak. Vulnerable. That was how the fierce Captain Stephen Bonnet felt right now. So weak that he was utterly incapable of refusing anything to the woman he loved, despite the many dangers that threatened her in this unhealthy century. Vulnerable to this new small being which now depended entirely on him. And if Sean only inherits a tenth of his mother's stubbornness, I shall be wretched...
Stephen Bonnet smiled at the thought. Brianna had barely planted the idea of the name in his head and he had already adopted it. The second she saw the pirate's expression soften, she knew she had won, and ignoring the painful protests of her bruised body, she leaned over their son to place a tender kiss on Stephen's lips.
~o~
Oxford, 1985.
Sighing wearily, Professor Roger MacKenzie crossed out an entire irrelevant paragraph from one of his students' essays. He had corrected a dozen copies on that Sunday afternoon, and he could already feel his concentration melt away as the enticing smell of the traditional Sunday lamb leg rose to his nostrils. His stomach growled loudly and he was about to close his red fountain pen when his office phone rang, echoing the other terminal in the entrance hall. "I'll take it!", he yelled, his voice echoing throughout the house, before he picked up the receiver. "Wakefield residence?"
"Roger? It's Paul."
The Scot's face broke into a friendly smile. Paul Miller was a professor and historian at Harvard University. The pair had met a few years earlier at an international conference. They had immediately got along and now visited each other once or twice a year, on either side of the Atlantic during the holidays. "Hi, Paul! How are you? And how are Jenny and the boys doing?"
"Everyone is perfectly fine. But I don't have much time, Pete has a baseball game today and I wanted to talk to you about something before I go. Is your fax on?"
Roger twisted in his seat to check that the device was indeed turned on. "It is."
"Great, I'll send you a document shortly. I know we had given up on research a bit, but there is some news about your Bonnet guy."
Roger stiffened and stretched the spiral cord of his phone to push his office door shut with his foot. "What news?"
"Well, the University recruited a Cuban historian who fled the dictatorship and sought political asylum in the States. An incredible man, with an incredible life too… Anyway. He saw one of the post-it notes I had pinned on my corkboard about Bonnet and the name was not unfamiliar to him. He said a pirate named Bonnet had founded a colony at the southeastern tip of the island, but he needed to check it out and I waited until he found any evidence before telling you about it. It took a little while; you know how complicated it is to get any information about this country... but he did it."
Behind Roger, the fax machine came alive with the characteristic sound of paper being caught by the system as printing began. His heart pounding, the professor stared at the device with the unpleasant feeling that it had never been so slow and that it was surely doing it on purpose.
"What are you sending me?"
"There are several things… A deed of property in his name, birth certificates, just routine. Ernesto also wrote a brief summary about the Bonnets and their presence in Cuba..."
A first page had just come out of the fax machine and Roger grabbed it. It was a deed of property for an estate in Cajo Babo and his heart skipped a beat when next to Stephen Bonnet's handwritten signature, he noticed Brianna's. Brianna Ellen Bonnet… They had ended up getting married, after all. A second sheet began to run through the machine and he took a deep breath, pulling the receiver away from his mouth to show none of his confusion.
"To sum it up, Bonnet was indeed married to a Brianna, just as you had told me, but I didn't find anything about her before that. As if that girl's life had started the day they bought this piece of land at Cajo Babo… They had two children: Sean Alexander Franklin, born August 28, 1771 and Gloria Anna Claire, born June 17, 1774. According to Ernesto-" Paul suddenly fell silent and Roger heard someone talking to him somewhere in the room. "Damn… Uh, I have to go. The game… You should be receiving the last two documents soon. I'll call you back later, okay?"
Roger wanted to answer but his voice grew hoarse and he had to clear his throat first before he could make a sound.
"See you soon, pal."
"Wish Pete luck from me…", he managed to say before hanging up with a shaking hand. There it was. The fateful day he was to learn that Brianna would never come back. He had suspected it for a few years, but he had always had the shameful and selfish hope that she would reappear. He grabbed the second document Paul had sent. The birth certificates of both children. His gaze fell on the little girl's names and couldn't help but smile. Gloria Anna...
When the third document was printed, he saw that it was the summary written by the Cuban historian. After founding their small colony in the south of the island, the Bonnets had actively supported the slave rebellions in Haiti, and had helped the French owners exile to Cuba after being kicked out of the French colony by free slaves in the 1790s. In the early 1800s, the Bonnet family and especially their son, developed trade with the Republic of Haiti, proclaimed by the ex-black slaves of Saint-Domingue. Until the death of Stephen Bonnet in 1811 at the venerable age of 74. Brianna had then joined him in the grave six years later, in 1817, at the age of 70.
A drop of water crashed onto the document and Roger wondered for a moment where it was coming from, before realizing it was a tear. His tear. He had just realized that fact, when a second tear joined the first and he pushed the paper away from him with a trembling hand. He didn't really know why he was crying. For the past fourteen years he had tried to live on the assumption that she would never come back, as she had asked him to. However, a tiny part of his heart had kept hoping that they would meet again one day, even if he had found love himself and got married as well. But this time, he knew for a fact that Brianna Ellen Randall, his first true love, had been dead for 168 years.
Though he also knew that she had been happy, living a life of adventure, giving two children to the man she loved, and working for a cause close to her heart. He couldn't decently be sad. He had to be happy. Out of respect for her and for her own happiness.
"Roger? Dinner will be served soon!", his wife said in the corridor.
Roger jumped and quickly wiped away his tears, preparing his voice to sound as normal as possible. "I'll be there in a minute."
Listening, he waited for the sound of Diane's slippers to fade toward the dining room and sniffed loudly. Gathering the documents, the deed on top, he searched for a drawer and opted for the first one from the top. He opened it, put the papers inside, and sniffed again. Placing his trembling fingers on Brianna's signature, he caressed it one last time. They weren't meant to meet again in this world, but maybe in the next. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.
THE END
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
So many emotions in this chapter. T_T I already tend to cry when I finish a long job like this, and this time was no exception!
Anyway, if you don't have enough of Brianna and Stephen, I'm already working on another fiction (totally different and much darker) called "Will you teach me...?" (this line should ring a bell… Hehehe) and I shall start to publish it in a little while (no rush, Droughtlander is incredibly long this year due to the pandemic). However, it will not be updated as often as The Clover (pregnancy + moving to a new house soon + work), but I will do my best not to make you wait too long between chapters!
See you soon for this new story and in the meantime, I look forward to reading your comments on this final chapter and on this fiction in general for those who have never commented before! Love you, guys and thank you again for your incredible support!
Xérès