Will You Teach Me…?

Hi there! I hope Halloween was great and you're now filled to the brim with candy! Last time, we left Brianna deep in her thoughts after discovering a cruel plot against the Regulators. But the party at the Governor's is not over yet...

Thanks Rath101, emilou12, LykkeF and SirenWolf28 for the reviews!

Rath101: Stephen is desperate for her attention, her love, her respect and after the "Roger incident", he will do everything in his power to achieve that. And not by force anymore… The feelings you're gonna have for him will be more conflicted than ever. Yep, James Norrington is a funny reference to POTC. I was looking for a name that made me thought of an boring English nobleman and I don't know why his name came up in my mind. Lololol. If you think William Tryon is a douche now, just wait for it… -_-

Emilou12: eheheheh there will be more banter and cute moments between Bree and Stephen in this chapter. But also… well, Stephen being Stephen but in a much cuter and tragic way… Enjoy!

LykkeF: ahahah someone is paying attention to the small details! Yes, the bed is fixed and it is mentioned in a later chapter. Oh Lady Tryon is definitely a friend… with her own shit to deal with. Saving Brianna means also saving herself in a lot of ways, as you'll soon find out.

SirenWolf28: Thanks a lot! But technically, I didn't humanize Stephen… Brianna did. Ahahah. And you'll see that again in this chapter…

~o~

19. Return To Sender

The sun had set over New Bern and the garden party had gradually turned into a dinner dance in the governor's reception hall. To the sound of three violins, the guests carried out contredanses, allemandes and minuets amid bursts of laughter and loud conversations. Brianna had kept staring gloomily at the door in the corner of the room, which opened on a corridor leading into the bathroom and ultimately Lord Tryon's office. Margaret's words had been playing on a loop in her mind since early afternoon and she was sure that all the evidence she needed would be in this office or in Stephen's in River Run; But she had already tried to check this one out without much success.

However, the opportunity to creep out of the party never came up. She had managed twice to go to the bathroom, but there had always been people to prevent her from snooping around. And Tryon's eyes had almost never left her. She was playing all alone in a corner of the room with her fork and the last crumbles of her apple pie, when Stephen left Mr. Norrington and walked towards her. Holding out his hand.

"What?", Brianna grumbled, her mouth full.

Stephen was not put off by her grumpy attitude and raised his eyebrows. "Would you like to… dance with me?"

"Absolutely not." Bree rolled her eyes at her husband's offended look and added: "It's not that I don't want to dance with you… I don't want to dance at all. I don't know the steps", she added in a low voice.

"Frank didn't teach you?", he asked.

Brianna jumped as she heard him say her adoptive father's name so casually. It was not something she was used to with Jamie, Claire or anyone else in the family to be honest. But it was quite nice to be able to mention him without hurting or saddening anyone.

"He liked… other kinds of dances", she said, as she remembered them dancing a crazy rockabilly jive in their living room in Boston. The Irishman seemed to relax a little bit and dropped into a chair next to her. "You can go and dance with other women, though. I promise I won't be jealous…"

Stephen sneered before leaning towards her ear. "Well… I was countin' on you to guide me. I don't know the steps either."

At these words, Brianna chuckled loudly, and Stephen soon imitated her. He then sighed and leaned against the back of his chair, spreading his legs in a very ungentlemanly way.

"We are the worst aristocrats in this room."

"Probably in the whole town", she added sarcastically.

Before she had time to realize that she was smiling, she saw Stephen smugly staring at her. He loved those rare moments when she acted totally natural and she felt her cheeks burn under his intense gaze. After letting his green irises linger a little longer over her pink cheeks and lips, he nodded at the exit. "Shall we go?"

Nothing could have made Brianna happier, despite her frustration of not finding the evidence she was looking for, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, please."

Stephen smirked and jumped to his feet. "I'll ask for our carriage, then. Wait for me here."

She nodded and watched him walk away, thinking intently. What if this was the opportunity she had been waiting for? Turning her head towards the dancers, she caught sight of Tryon making Miss Scott twirl all over the dancefloor. Margaret was talking to Josiah Martin in a corner of the room and no one was paying attention to the young redhead finishing her cake. Putting her plate on the nearest table, she stood up slowly, smoothing the tails of her dress and pretending to head for the bathroom. As she reached the corridor, the odds were finally in her favor: there was not a soul around.

Brianna trotted to the last door down the corridor and put her ear against the panel. Nothing. At worst, if she came face to face with a guard inside, she would pretend to be a little tipsy and looking for the exit. The knob turned immediately when she seized it and she rushed into the empty room, closing the door behind her. The governor's office was all that could have been expected from a man of his standing. Beautiful carved and varnished wooden furniture, a huge map of North Carolina on the wall, hundreds of books and rich carpets on the floor. The centerpiece being the mahogany secretary in the middle of the room and its multiple drawers adorned with brass locks. Brianna walked around it, looking at the carved leather desk pad, the precious quills and inkwells, the letter opener that looked as sharp as a razor blade, and some paperwork casually left all over it.

Brianna carefully turned a few documents, flipped through a notebook in an open drawer, but nothing seemed suspicious. Several drawers were locked and after spending a few minutes feeling every corner of the desk in search of a key, she used the letter opener but to no avail. The drawers did not move an inch and she put the blade down with an exasperated sigh. What did she expect? That the notebook containing all the details of Tryon's crimes would be in plain sight, stored between the last signed decree and a copy of the New Bern Gazette? She had no time to go through the whole bookcase or find something to pick the lock with, and her reckless adventure suddenly seemed very stupid.

Especially when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Footsteps that were getting too close to be a guest heading for the bathroom. Fuck, Brianna swore, looking for a hiding place. No piece of furniture was big enough to disappear behind it and the door was the only way out. The windows. Opening one of the French doors, Brianna leaned over the railing to assess the height. They were on the ground floor, which was above the semi-basement where the servants worked. There couldn't be more than eight feet between her and the lawn below. Pulling up her dress, she got to the other side of the railing and just as she was about to hang from it and let herself fall, the door to the office swung open on Tryon's counselor.

Brianna stifled a cry, but it was too late. Josiah Martin had looked up at the window, meeting her frightened eyes just when her bulky dress made her lose her balance. As in slow motion, Brianna felt the stone scrape her palms as she slipped and fell to the ground. She tried to brace her legs for the impact, but as her feet touched the ground, a searing pain shot through her left ankle and she moaned loudly. But she had no time to lose: straightening up, Brianna hobbled as fast as she could towards the entrance, hoping to make it back to the hall and find Stephen before someone gave the alert.

Her ankle was burning horribly with every step, but she made it to the entrance hall unscathed. Stephen, where are you for fuck's sake?, she grumbled, looking around.

"Mrs. Bonnet?"

Brianna was so tense that she almost screamed in terror when she heard her name. But that was nothing compared to the fear she felt as she turned and saw Josiah striding towards her. She was screwed. In a few minutes, she would be arrested for espionage or treason or witchcraft – or whatever they could find to lock her up – and probably executed. Her breathing quickened and she felt like she was about to faint.

"Look, it's not what you think…", she began in a voice that was barely audible over the din of her heartbeat.

"You forgot this…", Josiah said with an enigmatic smile. Brianna frowned and looked down at the object he was handing to her. The Rudiments of English Grammar, by Joseph Priestley. Margaret's book...

Frowning, she looked up at the counselor and was opening her mouth to ask him for an explanation when a warm hand slipped around her arm.

"There you are, darlin'… I told you to wait for me inside…"

Stephen placed his own jacket on her shoulders and Brianna pulled the fabric around her in a state of semi-consciousness, wondering why Josiah had not denounced her already.

"Lady Tryon wanted to give you this, for your son... It is an excellent grammar book", Josiah said, smiling broadly. Stephen nodded silently, while Bree was gradually recovering her composure.

"Would you thank her for me?", she asked the counselor, her voice still slightly shaky. Josiah stared at her, and she suddenly knew that her secret expedition would be a well-kept secret. Whatever was going on between Margaret and Mr. Martin, Lady Tryon seemed to trust him and right now, Brianna had no choice but to trust him as well.

"Of course", Josiah replied with a nod and a friendly glance at Stephen. "I wish you both a safe journey home..."

Stephen nodded back, before gently leading Brianna towards the carriage that had just pulled into the driveway.

"Are you cold?", Stephen asked, frowning. Brianna wondered for a moment why he was asking her this before realizing her whole body was shaking. Probably the adrenaline.

"A little bit", she whispered, wrapping herself a bit more in his jacket. "It was much warmer inside…"

In front of the carriage step, Brianna took a deep breath. She would have to climb with her good foot, which meant supporting herself on the other while she lifted her leg. Gritting her teeth, she managed to get on board without moaning in pain and sat just before Bonnet settled next to her instead of in the opposite seat as usual. Before she could say anything, the Irishman's right arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against him as the carriage headed for their hostel. The steady pace of the horses, the warmth emanating from Stephen's chest, and the emotions of the last minutes soon got the better of Brianna. Slowly, her head dropped on her husband's shoulder and she closed her eyes.

"What were you and Lady Tryon talkin' about this afternoon?", Stephen blurted out, startling her. "And don't say 'diamonds' because I won't believe you... You were both pale as death."

Bree stared at him in bewilderment; she was far too exhausted and in pain to lie. Moreover, she had failed in her search for evidence and right now, a shipment of defective weaponry was making its way to the Regulators, or was probably already in their possession. And the only person who probably had the power to stop it was in front of her.

"I know everything… about the weapons…", she whispered, careful not to sound accusatory, but rather desperate. A few inches from her face, she saw her husband's eyes darken. "We have to stop this delivery, Stephen."

"It's too late..." He breathed loudly, expecting another drama, another fight, another reason for Brianna to hate and despise him. "They already got the shipment."

"I see…", she breathed softly and he gave her a surprised look when she pressed herself closer to him. "Then let me send a letter to my family. The leader of the Regulators... Murtagh Fitzgibbons... he's Jamie's godfather. He's family." Bonnet's face paled slightly and Brianna did not have to force herself for too long to bring some convincing tears to her eyes. "Please, I have to warn them. If something bad happened to Murtagh or other people I love, I would die… Stephen… I just recovered from Roger's visit…"

Telling the truth and begging him to help her was a tried-and-tested technique, and the more she begged, the more she felt Stephen was ready to give in to her every wish. He must have thought she would get angry, and this unexpected reaction was working in her favor. His green irises were analyzing her and he seemed truly worried that their relationship would take another step back after an entire month apart. Finally, after a long minute of thinking, he nodded.

"We'll write to them as soon as we get to the inn", he whispered, his face becoming more and more emotional, and Brianna smiled happily.

With the utmost gentleness, she reached out to the scar on Stephen's cheek and brought his face closer to hers. "Thank you… Thank you so much…"

Her words, moaned in a moment of extreme vulnerability, hit Bonnet's heart as violently as a bullet fired at point-blank range. Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss on Bree's forehead and hugged her. They remained silent until the carriage stopped and the coachman had to tell them twice that they had reached their destination before they decided to move. Stephen got out of the carriage first to help her get down. Despite all her precautions, the pain was still very present and when Brianna tried to set foot on the ground, her ankle gave way again and she fell forward with a cry.

"Are you all right?", Stephen asked, catching her before she hit the ground.

Brianna shook her head, actual tears rolling down her cheeks. "My ankle… I twisted my ankle", she moaned, leaning forward. The next moment, Stephen had picked her up and made her comfortable in his arms – like a bride entering the marital home for the first time – and carried her to the inn. In the privacy of their room, he then laid her on the bed and gently rolled up her dress to reveal her shoe, which he carefully removed. Then, as gently as ever, he undid her garter and slid her stocking down her thigh and calf, until he revealed the purple disaster that was her ankle.

"Is it bad?", Brianna asked, craning her neck to take a look at her foot above the frills of her outfit. Stephen's warm fingers gently seized it, wiggling it one way and then the other.

"It doesn't look broken, just twisted. Don't move…"

Brianna watched him walk over to their trunk and pull out a clean shirt. He tore the garment into long strips of fabric and plunged them into a porcelain basin that had been placed in their room by the staff. Once the makeshift bandages were soaked in cold water, he quickly wrung them out and started wrapping them around Bree's ankle. The cold water was doing her a world of good, and as Stephen finished his work, she couldn't help but ask.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Stephen smirked, obviously delighted by her keen interest. "When you spend most of your life roamin' the ocean, you have to learn how to heal a few wounds..."

Brianna nodded with a knowing smile. "Maybe you were mistaken about your true calling and should have been a healer instead of a pirate...", she joked. "Have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?"

At those words, Stephen's expression changed completely – the tenderness of his smile only matched by that in his eyes – as he looked up at her.

"Aye. When I saw you all round with me child…"

Silence fell in the room, and they stared at each other for a long time — as if lost in their bubble — until a horse neighed in the street below, startling Brianna and bringing her back to reality. She looked down, nervously smoothing her dress and clearing her throat.

"The letter…", Stephen remembered as he got up to look around the room. There wasn't the slightest bit of paper, pen or ink to write a message. "I'm going to ask the staff for something to write with. Stay here."

Bree nodded – thinking she wouldn't get too far with a bad ankle anyway – and watched as Stephen left the room, her heart pounding. She could not believe he had allowed her to write a letter to her family. Was he craving for love enough to sabotage one of Tryon's operations? Apparently, he did. Either way, not getting angry or accusing him of anything had worked and she had to keep acting that way. When Stephen returned a few minutes later with a quill, an inkwell and a sheet of paper, he put it all on the small table and before Brianna could get up, he picked her up and carried her in his arms to the chair. She knew that it was useless to protest. Apart from the incident with Roger, whenever she had been hurt or unwell – both emotionally and physically – Stephen had always pampered and cuddled her even more than usual.

In a very neat and not too modern handwriting, Brianna started to write a brief introduction, ignoring Stephen's staring eyes. She knew he was dying to know what she was writing but would not dare reading above her shoulder so as not to start an argument. This is why after a few minutes of torture, Bree looked up and – looking more innocent than ever – she asked:

"Do you know when they received these weapons? I need a date or any information that would help them identify the shipment if they received more than one at the same time…"

Stephen's gaze shifted to the floor on his left, as he always did when he was thinking, and then frowned. "Tell them that Murchinson is a traitor and that everything he gave them must not be used."

Brianna nodded and wrote the information down immediately. "That man, Murchinson… they will kill him when they find out…", she said apologetically, in case the man was one of Stephen's friends. But the Irishman just shrugged.

"He knew the risks."

Without another word, Brianna finished her letter and put the quill down, blowing on the paper to dry the ink. And to Stephen's surprise, she read it aloud.

"My dear parents", she read, glancing quickly at Stephen to get his attention. "I have recently been informed of an act of sabotage against the Regulators that could cost many of them their lives. Stephen joins me in telling you that any equipment or weapons that were delivered by a certain Mr. Murchinson have been tampered with and could injure or kill anyone using them. I hope this letter reaches you in time for you to pass the information on to them. Jeremiah is doing fine and so do I. Stephen gave him an adorable puppy who watches over him day in day out. Take care and hug Marsali, Ian and Fergus for me. Your daughter who loves you."

She took a breath and looked up at Stephen. She knew her parents would be surprised at the way she talked about him, but not mentioning him at all was not a good idea either. The Irishman seemed quite moved by her thoughtfulness and stared at her, making a weird face.

"Stephen joins me…?", he repeated in disbelief.

"You gave me valuable information, so yes you join me in passing it on." She smiled encouragingly. "You're on our side now, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not on the Regulators' side…", he protested, before she interrupted him.

"No, you're on my side and Jeremiah's. The Fraser-Bonnet clan, if you like."

Oh, how he loved the sound of that; she could tell by the way his eyes were glistening in the candlelight and his breathing was faster than a second earlier.

Still smiling, Brianna folded the sheet in three and flipped it over to write "Claire & Jamie Fraser, Fraser's Ridge, North Carolina" on the back.

"I'll have it sealed by the staff downstairs", Stephen said as he came to retrieve the writing equipment and the letter. Bree handed him the letter with some apprehension and she searched the Irishman's gaze for the slightest trace of lies or malice indicating he would not send the letter. But for once, she saw nothing but tenderness in his green irises and sweet smile. Her little scheme had worked well, beyond her expectations even.

"Thank you…", she whispered, as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. A moment later, he had left the room.

~o~

Stephen closed the door behind him and walked down the corridor towards the main staircase leading to the first floor, the letter clutched between two fingers while the others held the quill and inkwell. With his still swaying gait – despite his efforts to correct himself – he went down the stairs (passing by a couple who stiffly stared at his scar and attitude) and soon found the man who had provided him with the paper and quill in the small living room.

"I'm returnin' this to you."

The man thanked Stephen politely and raised an eyebrow at the letter that was still in his client's hand. "Would you like me to send a messenger, Sir? We have our own postal service for our customers. Discretion assured, of course."

Stephen opened his mouth, his hand ready to give the paper to the employee, but stopped his gesture.

"Would you pour me a glass of whiskey? I'll be over there by the fireplace...", he said, pointing at a comfortable armchair in front of the hearth. "Oh and… please have our basin of clear water changed in our room."

"Of course, Sir."

The man disappeared, and Stephen walked slowly to the armchair, dropping into it with a sigh. With his elbow bent on the armrest, he tilted his head towards his left hand while his fingers unconsciously played with his own wedding ring. In his right hand, the letter was there, taunting him. He was still staring at it when the employee returned with his drink and he nodded vaguely as a thank you.

What should he do? Should he take sides with his sweet Brianna, betray Tryon and risk losing everything he had built in the past four years? Or should he burn that damned letter and endanger his new marital bliss? He could not bear sleeping without her warm breast in his palm anymore. Without her red curls tickling his face on the pillow. Without the extraordinary sight of her curves under her thin nightgown in the early morning. Without her smile when she joked or simply talked with him. For all of these things, he almost felt ready to ride all the way to Fraser's Ridge and deliver the letter in person. He lifted the glass to his lips and gulped half of it down.

But warning the Regulators meant betraying the Governor and their successful partnership. It meant endangering himself, but also Brianna and Jeremiah, because he knew Tryon would not do things by half if he decided to get his revenge. Stephen and all his descendants would suffer. But wasn't it worth it if that could bring him Love...? The love of the woman he had been coveting for more than four years?

Drinking the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, Stephen got up and put the empty glass on the armrest behind him. No... even Love was nothing compared to the threat of seeing Brianna and Jeremiah at Lord Tryon's mercy. After all, letters often got lost, were received too late or were simply destroyed when the mail coach was attacked by the Catawba tribes. Besides, even if they sent the information today, the next assault on the Regulators was expected to happen very soon... so there was little chance that they would be warned early enough anyway.

Clenching his jaw, Stephen leaned toward the flames and with a flick of his wrist, threw the message. Stuck between two logs, the paper immediately caught fire and he watched it burn for a while, with a painful lump in his throat. And then left the living room without even looking back.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Ahahah Stephen counting on Bree to teach him how to dance is one of my favorite moments between them in this chapter. They are really the worst couple of the party, but also the best.

Let's talk about Josiah… He covered for her after her intrusion into the Governor's office and made it clear that he wouldn't say anything by pretending nothing had happened. What do you think about this ?

But let's talk about the real subject here… Our little Stephen, taking care of his beloved wife and complying with all her wishes, wasn't it adorable? As for the reasons why he burnt the letter… how do you feel about that? I mean, it wouldn't have made much difference to send it (if Outlander taught us anything, it's that great events in History can't be changed), but for once, Stephen first thinks about the consequences of his actions (for the others before himself) and that… is a huge step forward. Even if in the end he betrays Brianna's trust. But don't you wanna forgive him, this time? I bet you do… Come on, just a little bit…

The next chapter will be posted on November 27th! Until then, I look forward to reading your comments and I wish you a happy month!

Xérès