Will You Teach Me… ?
Hi there! It seems you guys really liked the previous chapter and I'm GLAD! Now that our two lovebirds have had a good fight and Stephen has tighten things up again, he expects to pick up their old routine, but returning to good old habits might not be as pleasant as he expected… As for Brianna, new opportunities will be emerging and she is determined to seize them!
Thanks Rath101 (I believe the anon guest was you?), SirenWolf28, LykkeF, Imembarrassedthis, AngelinaGaye for the reviews as well as CearaEinin and dgorski556 for hitting the follow/fav button!
Anonymous (Rath101, I guess?):ahahahahah Bree freaking out and threatening him with that knife was soooo pleasant and sexy! He 100% deserved everything that happened to him and even his most faithful employees agree on that! As you said, fake it until you make it isn't gonna work this time. Stephen is going to be MISERABLE and will literally crawl and beg. Thanks for your comment!
SirenWolf28:thank you so much!
LykkeF: Stephen is going to give Bree some time to heal. He hates what happened and he surely doesn't want it to happen again. Prepare to be amazed: Stephen has learnt a lesson….
Imembarrassedthis: thank you so much! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well!
AngelinaGaye: thank you! I also wish I had an endless supply of Brianna/Stephen plots and ideas in my mind, ahahah. I love writing about them and I don't want to stop! But don't worry, Will You Teach Me will have approximately the same number of chapters than The Clover and the Tartan (around 37). The end isn't near!
~o~
18. Love The Way You Lie
March 1974.
Despite Stephen's wish to play pretend again, Brianna's anger since Roger's visit had not allowed her to be as convincing as she had been before. She only did her bare minimum: breakfast and dinner with her husband and son (in a weird silence), letting Stephen kiss her closed lips when he came home in the evening, answering politely but shortly if he ever spoke to her. She also spent her nights with Jeremiah, and Stephen had never tried to drag her back to their bedroom. Although he tried to pull up a front, Stephen also failed to keep his illusion of a perfect marriage intact and he spent as little time as possible in River Run.
Over the weeks, however, what angered Bree the most was no longer the dirty trick Stephen had played on her and Roger, but the fact that the pirate had been right about one thing. Now that she had gotten over the initial shock, she had to face the facts: losing hope of any kind of future with Roger had been liberating. Until now, every single day spent with Stephen took her further and further away from her ex-husband. Each caress, each sexual intercourse with the Irishman was an outrage to her love for Roger; a betrayal, even. Not to mention all the questions that played on a loop in her mind on sleepless nights, such as "will he still want me after months of being touched by someone else?".
Little by little, all of that had disappeared and Brianna had gradually let go. It felt like coming out of a long mourning and realizing that life just went on. The memory of her first love was still there, but less painful, less burdensome. Her mind was also clearer, for she could focus all her energy on her revenge. And it was better not to dwell on the awful memory of Roger's disgusted face anyway. She had already suffered enough as it was.
Stephen's attitude had also changed over the weeks. His looks became less stern, more questioning, as if searching Bree's eyes for any sign of forgiveness. And almost one month after the incident – as the end of March approached and with it the beginning of spring – he decided to take a chance. Brianna was about to join Jeremiah in his room like she did every night, when he grabbed her by the wrist. His fingers were putting just enough pressure to make his presence known, and if she had wanted to, Brianna could have freed herself easily. But she did not. She knew that sleeping with her son and ignoring her husband could not be a permanent solution and it was already a miracle that Stephen had allowed her to isolate herself for an entire month without complaining. The time had come to take another step toward him. But she would not make it easy for him and when Brianna turned to face the Irishman, her blue eyes were still vaguely accusatory.
"Stay with me tonight…", he whispered, almost pleading. But Brianna pursed her lips coldly.
"I don't think it's a good idea. We might yell at each other again and I-"
"I don't care…" Tightening his fingers around her hand, he pulled her closer to him, giving her yet enough space to feel comfortable. "I'd rather have you beat me to a pulp for hours than sleep another night without you."
Stephen's smooth tone, his thumb gently caressing her hand, his amorous and childish smile, everything reeked of manipulation – especially his green eyes that were analyzing her as usual. He was pulling out all the stops, even if it was useless: Brianna had already made up her mind. Squinting, she cocked her head to the side.
"For how long would you let me do that, approximately? Two hours…? Four? More than that?"
The Irishman chuckled and shrugged. Brianna could read in his eyes that he already thought he had won, and she would not prove him wrong. After all, he was not the only one who had mastered the art of manipulation. "As many hours as you want, darlin'. Nothin' would be more painful than lyin' alone in that big, ice cold bed."
Bree let out a long sigh and nodded. "I'll tell Phaedre that I'm changing rooms."
"Don't. She's a clever lass, she'll understand."
Brianna suppressed a sigh. He would not leave her out of his sight tonight, and she half-heartedly followed him into their bedroom. Nothing had changed since the last time she had slept there — on that night — and yet everything felt strange to her. It was like coming home after a long trip: the traveler had changed but the place had not. And everything seemed smaller or bigger, reassuring or inadequate. This room that once terrified her now also stirred sensual memories, and paradoxically the more terrible pain she had ever experienced.
In order to dispel her uneasiness, Brianna walked behind the screen to undress but as she reached behind her back to untie her bodice, Stephen's hands came up to rest on hers and the young woman stiffened.
"Let me help you…"
Her arms fell back on each side of her hips as Stephen's fingers worked to unlace the garment with unusual slowness and gentleness. One by one, her clothes left her body. Every now and then, her husband's hands brushed her skin, caressing without ever insisting, just enough to make her shiver. And when the Irishman's mouth placed a trail of feather-light kisses down her right shoulder, Brianna closed her eyes. After all these weeks of uncertainty about her future within these walls, of anger, sadness and other negative feelings, these simple displays of affection – like the hand he used to rest on her left breast every night before their argument – were quite reassuring… Still, she felt the urge to call him to order.
"What you did was terrible. You know that, right…?"
"I do…", he breathed against her skin between kisses.
"This must not happen again. I might not survive it..."
Everyone had a limit. A point of no return before sinking into madness and Brianna had come very close to it a month earlier. Taking her hand, he spun her around to look into her eyes, and her eyes only – which was quite an achievement considering she was completely naked.
"I know, I shouldn't have…"
"Promise me…"
She saw him bite his lip, think and then grin. "I promise you. I will not do it again…" He paused long enough to let her savor her victory, then went on: "The next time I see MacKenzie, I will not play with him: I will shoot him in the head."
Bree cringed and stared at him in horror, before noticing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, followed by a chuckle.
"You're hilarious...", she grumbled, pretending to walk around him to go to bed, but he stepped aside to stop her and cupped her face between his hands. An entire month of forced celibacy had mellowed him out, and Brianna knew he was doing everything in his power to seduce her. That's why she did nothing to stop him when he leaned in to kiss her. This first real kiss since that night was a perfect reflection of the last few minutes: delicate and sensual, and Bree instantly hated herself for finding it comforting. She was not supposed to enjoy these moments, and she had managed to feel nothing for several months. Until her miscarriage, when Stephen's arms had gradually become a strange but safe haven… and despite their quarrel, despite a whole month of rare and cold contacts, that had not changed.
The sex was brief, slow and a little awkward, as if neither of them knew how to behave with the other. It was not unpleasant, not amazing either, but Bree wasn't complaining: she could not let Bonnet make her feel pleasure anymore. Even for pretense. Pleasure blurred the limit she had set in her relationship with him; and she did not want to cross it. Not anymore. One final kiss, one final thrust, and Stephen finished his business before rolling onto his back on the crumpled sheets. Without a word, Brianna lay down as well, pulling the covers up to her chest.
"Oh, by the way, I just remembered...", Stephen said in a tone suggesting that he had actually thought for a moment about what he wanted to say. "There's a feast at Tryon's Palace in two days. We'll leave tomorrow."
Bree's loud sigh said a lot about her desire to return to New Bern. "Did you have sex with me just to tell me that?
"No!", Stephen protested vehemently. Brianna gave him a wary look and he added: "…maybe. We had to bury the hatchet first."
"You could have just told me at dinner…"
Stephen chuckled. "Tonight's dinner was nowhere near good enough to sugar that pill…"
"Well, the sex wasn't great either, and yet…", Brianna blurted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She waited for an outraged retort, a growl, maybe even a slap on her butt, but nothing happened. Turning her head, she saw that Stephen did look offended, which made the lack of retaliation even more puzzling. After a few seconds, he let out a long sigh.
"I guess I deserved it…", he mumbled before rolling onto his side and waving at her to do the same. "Turn around…" Bree frowned, but complied and turned her back on him – one second before he curled up against her and took her left breast in his palm. "By Danu, I've missed this..."
Brianna's brain desperately looked for another disparaging remark, a joke, or just an unflattering way to say that no, she had not missed this at all. But she could not find anything and simply closed her eyes, doing her best to ignore the incredibly sweet warmth of her husband's hand.
~o~
"Tell me about you."
Rocked by the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves, Brianna had dozed off in the carriage when Stephen's voice startled her. As promised the day before, they had left the plantation for New Bern in the morning, leaving Jeremiah at home with Hennessy and Phaedre. Brianna blinked several times, stared at Stephen and his joyful smile, and wondered if her brain had been playing tricks on her. He could not have asked her that question, she must have been dreaming. He was not exactly one to care about people if it did not concern him directly.
"Did… did you say something?", she asked, rubbing her sleepy face.
"Aye, I would like you to talk to me. About yourself."
I wasn't dreaming, Brianna thought, staring at him in disbelief. Her husband must have sensed her skepticism because he rolled his eyes and nervously readjusted the tails of his jacket.
"You said somethin' that was quite true durin' our last… argument. I don't know anythin' about you", he shrugged. "I know what you mean to me. I know how you make me feel. But those things are not you. They're not what really defines Brianna Ellen Bonnet, aye?"
Brianna's eyes quickly scanned her surroundings, searching for a sign that she was dreaming or had traveled to another dimension. Had she been in the twentieth century, she probably would have searched the carriage for a hidden camera. Meanwhile, Bonnet was patiently waiting for an answer and she eventually muttered an unconvinced "I guess…?".
"Then, please, tell me everythin'. Let's start with the day you were born and... your childhood in the Highlands, with the skirt-wearin' giant."
"The what…?", Bree said before realizing he was referring to Jamie and his traditional Scottish kilt. "He's not a skirt-wearing giant…"
"Really? Does he wear breeches too?", Stephen joked before immediately shutting up at the sight of his wife's glare. He pursed his lips to suppress a mocking smile and with one hand, pretended to turn a key into an imaginary lock in front of his mouth and motioned for her to continue.
In a slow and soothing voice, she started to tell him an acceptable version of her childhood, withholding information about time travel and just telling him Claire had had a lover that had disappeared on the battlefield. She told him about Frank, a teacher and history buff who had raised and loved her like his own daughter. About everything he had taught her since she could not tell that she had been to school and even graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. She told him about bed time stories, playing chess and board games on cold Sunday afternoons, and trips to Cape Cod in the summer. Frank had taught her everything, had made her the woman she was today – no offense to Jamie – and she missed him dearly. Especially since he had barged in her dreams, one month earlier. She was about to start telling Stephen about Frank's accidental death, when she saw him frown and fidget in his seat. He was obviously dying to talk.
"What now?"
Stephen seemed to think intently before he spoke, and Brianna was almost getting impatient when he finally opened his mouth.
"What about your mother?" Brianna stared at him for a moment in amazement, and he went on, "You're inexhaustible on the man who raised you, but where was your mother the entire time?"
Bree's jaw dropped slightly to her chest and she frowned. "Mama… was very busy. She was studying medicine and then she had her patients…", she mumbled, and he squinted at her obvious embarrassment. "All right, if you must know, she'd rather spend as little time as possible at home. Because at home, there was me reminding her every day of Jamie, and Frank… who was not Jamie. This is what happens when two people who love each other more than anything are separated against their will. They suffer."
She had hoped to draw an obvious parallel between her parents' situation and her own since she had been forced to divorce Roger – but Stephen did not seem to make the connection – or if he did, he chose not to show it. A chuckle came from the opposite seat and she stared at her husband in amazement.
"Well, well, well… It seems like we have somethin' in common… you don't know what a happy couple is any more than I do. That explains a lot, when you think about it…"
Brianna blinked, annoyed by his insightful remark but even more by the fact that she had already come to the same conclusion before the trial and her marriage to Bonnet. After everything she had endured and forgiven – Roger's insults at the Scottish festival, his lies, his reaction to her rape and pregnancy, the recurring arguments and so many other things – she had often wondered if she would have accepted such a situation if her parents had been in a wholesome and happy relationship. If she had not spent her childhood hearing her parents yelling at each other, catching Claire's sad, bitter looks when Frank entered the room instead of Jamie. The answer had come to her: no. She could not have taken it all without a flinch.
Another chuckle snapped her out of her thoughts. "You know I'm right… You're just too proud to admit it", he sneered before leaning over, elbows resting on his thighs. "But that's all right, darlin'. I quite like it when we fight. We used to make love much more often this winter, when we weren't playin' perfect Mr. and Mrs. Bonnet, remember?"
Cut to the quick, Brianna pretended to think and shrugged. "I don't... It must not have been very memorable."
She expected him to scowl, but he chuckled a third time as if appreciating her sense of humor. "You should be glad, anyway…", he went on after a few seconds. "It didn't take me two decades to be part of your life again."
Bree stared at him silently for a moment. He had indeed drawn the parallel between her parents' situation and theirs, but not in the right way. Or – and this was the most likely option – he had switched roles on purpose.
"Let me be clear, Stephen…", Brianna began with a smirk. "You're not exactly Jamie in this story."
"Gods, no." He flashed her a bright smile. "I dress much better than he does."
She was tempted for a moment to correct him but there was no point in playing his little game. Stephen knew full well that he was not the great lost love of this story, but he would never admit it. The way he obstinately tried to steer the conversation away with jokes proved it and she just shook her head with a sigh. Not really knowing what to say, she leaned back in the corner of the carriage and rested her chin in her hand, watching the land on the other side of the window. Unaware that Bonnet's expression had darkened...
…with infinite sadness.
~o~
Far removed from the formal Christmas dinner, the day at the Tryons' looked more like a garden party, much to Brianna's relief. This time, there would be no single huge table, no controversial subjects and boring conversations: the garden of the governor's palace was dotted with small round tables for one or two people maximum, and she soon regretted not bringing any good novel to read in the sun, while ignoring the other people around. As they walked down the aisle, Brianna recognized many guests from Christmas' Eve (as well as from the other party on the following day) and among them, Josiah Martin and Margaret Tryon, who came to greet the Bonnets with broad smiles on their faces.
"Mr. Bonnet… Brianna… I am so happy to welcome you again in New Bern. Did you have a good journey?", she asked a little too cheerfully, as Josiah and Stephen shook hands. Bree was about to answer when a booming voice interrupted her.
"Aaah, Mr. Bonnet!", exclaimed tax collector James Norrington, as Margaret rolled her eyes. "Always a latecomer…"
"You know me, I can't resist a big entrance…", Stephen replied, shaking his hand.
"I have heard you've been making some changes, lately? How is it going with your property?"
Stephen's smile became so sarcastic that Bree instantly knew the answer was not going to please her. And she was right. Wrapping an arm around her lower back, he let out a brief laugh.
"My lovely wife is doin' fine, as you can see."
Bree's murderous look did not go unnoticed. Margaret shook her head disapprovingly, while Josiah coughed in his fist to hide a fit of laughter, and Norrington's eyes went from Stephen to his wife in panic. What should he do ? Laugh and incur Mrs. Bonnet's wrath or not laugh and risk offending her husband? Luckily for him, Stephen chuckled loudly, thus putting a welcome end to his dilemma.
"Oh, you were talkin' about River Run!'
'Of course…", Norrington muttered with a nervous smile. "I would never…"
"I'm teasin' you, Mr. Norrington. Try to relax, you seem a little tense…" Giving the tax collector a manly pat on the shoulder, Stephen then turned to Josiah. "Where is Lord Tryon?"
"Near the buffet, with his… niece."
Brianna saw Margaret stiffen imperceptibly, and cast a questioning look at the counselor who just grinned at her.
"Oh, we met her earlier", Norrington went on, turning around towards the buffet. "A delightful young lady. I think she is my son's age. Perhaps Lord Tryon would allow me to introduce him to her…"
As they all turned towards him, Tryon spotted their small group from afar and – after waving at one of the servants – came over to greet them, followed by a very young woman who looked kind of familiar to Brianna. The young lady, who was barely eighteen or nineteen years old, wore the most beautiful attire but strangely lacked of elegance and it was when she slipped her arm around Tryon's – looking as arrogant as a beggar on horseback – that Brianna recognized her. And the reason it had taken her so long… was because she had never seen the girl with so many clothes on. The young woman was none other than Tryon's "purchase" at the auction, and Bree almost gasped. How dare he appear with her when his own wife was there? And that poor Margaret, was she aware that this so-called family tie was a lie? Judging by her clenched jaw and downcast eyes, she probably was. With a polite smile, Brianna grabbed a glass of white wine from the footman's tray and took a sip as Tryon stopped beside them, the courtesan still parading on his arm.
"Bonnet! Now that you're finally here, the four of us shall meet in my office", William Tryon said without even bothering to say hello or anything polite to Brianna, but she was getting used to it. Then, he let go of the harlot's arm and turned to his wife. "We'll be back in a moment."
"I feel like we've met before", Brianna said to the girl, who looked a little taken aback. "Were you also here on Christmas' Eve, Miss…. ?"
"Miss Jane Scott is my niece and she arrived from England in February", Tryon interrupted her sharply. "Therefore, it is impossible for the two of you to have met in December."
Brianna shrugged with a stupid smile, ignoring Stephen's right hand which had left her lower back to pinch the skin of her arm, just above the elbow. "My apologies, I must be thinking of someone else. I see so many new faces every week that I sometimes get confused. »
Beside Margaret, who was still oddly silent, Josiah coughed to stifle a laugh, but Tryon said nothing. Waving his hand, he invited the other three men to follow him; Josiah and Norrington immediately did while Stephen glared at Brianna, squinting as if to tell her not to cause any scandal. Bree squinted back, perfectly mimicking the Irishman who frowned at her, more threateningly this time. She frowned in turn, unimpressed, and they were both shooting daggers at each other when Tryon himself put an end to their gesticulations by grabbing Bonnet's arm and dragging him along. A few seconds later, the three women were left alone in an uncomfortable silence and Brianna took a sip of wine to hide her embarrassment. The way the young courtesan stared at her made her very uneasy.
"It sure is hot for the season, isn't it my dear Brianna?", Margaret blurted suddenly, waving her hand near her face to cool it down. "Shall we sit down in the shade?"
Bree smiled and nodded. "Good idea." Margaret immediately walked over to the smallest empty table she could find, with only two chairs around it. Taking the hint, Brianna hurried to sit down on one of them while Margaret dropped on the other. Miss Scott clenched her jaw and looked around, but all the other chairs were taken and she had no choice but to remain standing.
"Isn't Jeremiah with you?"
Brianna shook her head. "We thought he would be better off at home. After all, we'll only be gone for three days. The journey to New Bern and back would have been exhausting and boring to him."
"Of course. I just happened to have a present for him, you see? Oh… I think I left it inside the house…" With an extremely convincing sigh, Margaret closed her eyes for a second. "Silly me. I wanted to give it to you now lest I forget. He's getting to an age where he has to learn how to read and write correctly and I have just found one of my daughter's manuals. The Rudiments of English Grammar, by Joseph Priestley. It is an excellent book, very clear, especially for the little ones…"
Leaving her words hanging and still fanning herself with her right hand, Margaret cast a pleading look at Miss Scott, who stared at her darkly.
"If only I had the courage to cross the whole garden again in this heat…", Margaret added, as she seemed determined to get rid of the unwanted 'niece', but the girl seemed to ignore her on purpose. "I think I left it in my boudoir, on the drawer cabinet…"
Brianna looked up at the young prostitute, quite impressed with her ability to remain unmoved when given a near-direct order by the governor's wife. Either this girl had a hell of a nerve, or she had been ordered not to let the two other women out of her sight. What if I offered to go?, Brianna thought, staring at her.
"Jane, dear…", Margaret went on, "you would be a darling if-…"
"Would you like me to fetch it for you, Lady Tryon?", Bree offered, and as she expected, the courtesan straightened up and put on a fake smile.
"Don't bother, Mrs. Bonnet, I won't be long", she asserted, and Brianna wondered for a moment if that was a promise or a threat. Margaret thanked her with a weary smile, eyes shining victoriously, and Miss Scott walked away as quickly as allowed by decorum. Silence fell between the two women, until Margaret sat up slightly in her chair.
"Is she gone?", she mumbled. Brianna nodded and Lady Tryon let out a sigh of relief. "That should keep her busy for a while; the book is actually in the entrance hall, ready for you to take when you leave."
"You seem happy to be rid of her...", Brianna chuckled. She had no idea whether Margaret knew about the courtesan's true identity, it was therefore better not to speak too bluntly at first.
"That girl is by no means William's niece…", Margaret growled contemptuously. "She's his mistress. He doesn't even bother to be discreet anymore, you see? I even suspect he's using her to keep an eye on me and…" She fell silent, suddenly afraid of talking too much. "Never mind, I'm not here to pour my heart out about the dereliction of my marriage. I wanted to talk to you about something."
"What?", Brianna asked, leaning a little more over the table.
Margaret's lower lip wobbled and she looked around nervously, but no one was paying attention. She lowered her voice anyway. "I have to send a message to your Aunt Jocasta. And through her, to all Scots fighting against my husband for a fairer system…"
"Why don't you write to her?", Brianna asked, surprised that Lady Tryon might be on the Regulators' side.
"I did. Multiple times… But I think William is intercepting my mail." She bit her lip again and shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, Brianna, I do not support the rebellion... but what is coming is so terrible... I can't condone it, even on behalf of the Crown."
A cold shiver ran down Brianna's spine. Whatever Tryon was up to, it had not achieved unanimity even within his own family. What about Stephen? Was he also part of this? Bree hoped for it about as much as she feared it. Knowing more about his activities would always be progress, but everything she learnt about him was always both terrifying and disappointing. "What is it about?"
"As you must already know, your husband uses his ships to deliver weapons from Europe to the English soldiers here in the Colonies. As a former pirate, I imagine that none of his fellows dare to attack his fleet…", Margaret began. Little did she know that Brianna was not aware of that fact. However, she did not let her ignorance show. "Anyway. I heard my husband talking about a special shipment, recently. Rifles that are not intended for our army. The weapons will be handed over to men infiltrated within the Regulators…"
"Wait a minute... you're saying Stephen is supplying guns to the Regulators?", Brianna repeated. With her mouth wide open, she must have looked like a fish out of her bowl, but the idea of the Governor and Stephen teaming up to betray England was absurd. Yet, Brianna felt her heart beat a little faster in her chest at the thought of her husband working in the shadows for the independence of the United States, and she unconsciously smiled. And it was when she saw her smile that Margaret realized Brianna had no idea what she was getting at.
"Brianna… these guns… they've been rigged", Margaret whispered, her eyes watering. "Sabotaged, even. Anyone who tries to fire one of them will end up killed or crippled."
The corners of Bree's mouth fell immediately and an icy chill crept up her spine. Of course, she thought. How could she have imagined any other explanation than this? Slowly, her brain started processing the information when a name suddenly came to her mind. Murtagh… And not just him. All the Scots who had joined him, some of whom were friends and relatives of the Fraser and MacKenzie clans. All were now in great danger.
"We have to warn them… or stop this delivery… or place our husbands under arrest… we have to… There must be something we can do!", Brianna whispered, as a wave of panic washed over her.
Margaret looked around nervously, but no one was paying them any attention. Yet, she placed a soothing hand on Brianna's fingers, startling her.
"Place them under arrest? If you think they are acting illegally, you are wrong, my dear. This trick was most certainly approved in high places. Perhaps by King George himself. The only way to outflank them would be to warn the rebels."
"Unfortunately, I don't have any more means of contacting them than you do", Brianna mumbled. She had no idea of the expected delivery date, but by the time she convinced Stephen to go to Wilmington, visit the apothecary to pass a message on to the Frasers, then to the Regulators… it would most certainly be too late. And Stephen would never let her write a letter without checking its contents. "We have to find something else against them. Something reprehensible, even illegal… Considering Stephen's past, that shouldn't be too hard to find…"
Margaret's pout did not go unnoticed and Brianna sat up quickly. "Do you know something?"
"No, I... these are just guesses, I have no proof...", Lady Tryon stammered, before waving at a footman for a drink. A tense silence fell between both women the whole time it took for the footman to come, fill their glasses and leave, but Brianna would not let go. As soon as the footman was far enough to her liking, she grabbed her glass and leaned towards Margaret again.
"What does my husband do for yours, exactly? And don't tell me you don't know because I won't believe it... Not after the face you just made..."
Margaret stared at Brianna, stunned by her pressing and familiar tone that was far from the rules of decorum people usually followed around her. "I already told you, I'm not sure...", Margaret whispered, blushing. "Transporting weapons, for sure. Josi- Mr. Martin also told me about obscene parties, but these are not offending anyone, except maybe our Lord Jesus... And then..."
Lady Tryon stopped talking again and Brianna grew impatient. "The Crown doesn't care if the Regulators are alive or dead, just like they don't give a damn about their little swinger's club. Give me something I can use! Think, please!"
Margaret looked around before pursing her lips. "Taxes…", she whispered. "I believe… your husband makes sure everyone pay their taxes… plus an additional charge."
Brianna frowned. "What do you mean, an additional charge?"
"Well… I believe the amount set by King George is lower than the amount William is asking for. And your husband makes sure everyone pays without question."
"They're stealing the Crown…", Brianna breathed, her eyes wide. She was definitely on to something. Squandering and misappropriation of public funds – the King of England would certainly not like that, especially now that every penny was needed to cover the monumental debt caused by the latest war. The good news was no one could commit such crimes without trace: forged ledgers, unregistered money transfers, codes… "There must be a paper trail, a system to launder the stolen money…", Brianna muttered, while Margaret seemed to panic.
"I shouldn't have shared my assumptions with you... I'm just an idiot woman who doesn't understand business and is imagining things", Lady Tryon stammered with tears in her eyes, and Brianna knew these weren't her words but probably Tryon's every time his wife voiced her opinion about something. Margaret modestly turned away in her chair to wipe the underside of her eyes with a tissue… and froze in horror. Near the porch leading to the palace, Miss Scott had just appeared with Tryon and his partners, and she was whispering something in the governor's ear. "I'm begging you, Brianna, forget what I just said. We are lucky to have wealthy husbands taking care of us and our children. And that's all that matters."
Brianna blinked several times before following Margaret's gaze. Tryon and Stephen had just left Norrington, Miss Scott and Josiah on the porch, and were striding toward their wives. By the time they reached them, Margaret had regained control of herself, greeting the two men with a wide smile.
Stephen immediately stood by Brianna and like a perfect gentleman, took her hand in his and kissed it gently. "What were you ladies talkin' about?", he asked in a sweet voice, causing a few warning lights to blink in Brianna's brain. But Margaret hastened to answer emphatically, one hand clasped just below her cleavage.
"Oh, I was showing Brianna the wonderful diamond William got me last week", Lady Tryon gushed, giving her husband a loving look and smile.
"And I was wondering why my husband only gets me plain and ordinary emeralds…", Brianna added, with a ridiculous aristocratic tone.
"Emeralds look better on you, darlin'…", Stephen quipped, before turning to Tryon. "And now she wants diamonds."
The Governor laughed sarcastically. "They all do. Diamonds are what keeps women smiling, and in return we men have peace."
"Isn't a feigned peace more harmful than a formally declared war?", Brianna spat before she could even stop herself, and despite his casual smile, Tryon's eyes became as cold as ice.
"Then it is fortunate that women are incapable of waging a war. At worst, you just give us the silent treatment and we pretend to be bothered, when it is in fact a fucking relief."
Hearing him use such a rude word, Margaret jumped in her chair and Bonnet tensed imperceptibly, while Brianna and Lord Tryon both glared at each other in silence. Their mutual contempt was electrifying the ambient air, so much so that Stephen grabbed Brianna by the waist and forced her to look at him.
"A delicious buffet is waitin' for us over there...", he whispered, his face dangerously close to hers, but from an outsider's perspective, he looked just like a man whispering some sweet words in his wife's ear. "You'd better eat somethin' before the alcohol and the heat have an unfortunate effect on your audacity, darlin'."
Brianna forced herself to smile and leaned closer to him. "He started it."
Stephen discreetly rolled his eyes and glared at her for a split second. Just enough to beg her to behave herself. And this time, she would. At least for now. She knew where Lord Tryon's office was, since last Christmas. All she needed to do now was to disappear for a few minutes. And find his damn ledgers.
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What did you think of this chapter? I don't know about you, but I love seeing Stephen with his tail between his legs (no pun intended), begging Bree for some intimacy.
He's also taking interest in her, he's starting to actually like her true personality... and even if Brianna claims otherwise, these small gestures will progressively move her...
What did you think of Margaret's revelations? And what do you think Brianna is going to do to try to warn the Regulators or to find evidence?
The next chapter will be published on November 6th, but until then I can't wait to read your comments and your theories about the next chapter!
Have a lovely Halloween!
Xérès
