8 January, 1770
River Run, North Carolina
MAEVIS POV
Maevis made her way to the library, where Brèagha was painting something called a miniature of Clara for Archie. Also present was Lord John, who was admiring her artistic skills, and then Maevis cleared her throat.
"Not now, I'm nearly finished," Brèagha said a bit sharply, not looking at Maevis.
"I'm not here to talk to you, I need to talk to your fiancé," Maevis answered her, looking up at Lord John, and Brèagha stopped and looked at Maevis.
"What for?" she asked her.
"None of your business," Maevis replied, and Brèagha scoffed.
"I think if it's te do wi' my fiancé, then aye, it is," Brèagha replied somewhat crudely.
"If he was actually your fiancé, I'd tell you, but he's not," Maevis reminded her. "Lord John, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Of course," said Lord John, and then he took the somewhat flabbergasted Brèagha's hand and kissed the top of it. "I shall return in a moment, my dear." Once they were out of the library, Maevis couldn't help but chuckle a little.
"'My dear'?" she asked him.
"If I do not try and force myself to refer to her as my betrothed even in private, I fear I shall give us away," Lord John replied.
"I guess that's smart. She's certainly acting like she owns you already," Maevis told him.
"I don't believe it is that. I believe this is still some sort of… manifestation of her jealousy for you," Lord John said, and Maevis sighed slightly.
"I can't help but wonder if that's going to be the rest of my life," she said, but then she shook it off. "Anyway, that isn't why I wanted to speak with you."
"No?" Lord John asked her curiously.
"I need you to take me to Wilmington, preferably sooner rather than later," Maevis told him, and Lord John got a strange look in his eye. "What?"
"Goodness," he said softly.
"You already know, don't you?" Maevis demanded from him. "That they caught Stephen Bonnet?"
"Indeed, I do. The question is, how do you know?" Lord John asked her.
"Doesn't matter. What matters is I want to go to Wilmington and face him," Maevis said back to him, and he lightly scoffed.
"I most certainly will not bring you near that monster," Lord John told her.
"Why? Because you think I'm this delicate little flower who'll break if the wind blows the wrong way?" Maevis demanded, crossing her arms over her swollen belly.
"You are with child. Your father would have my neck if I allowed you to do such a dangerous thing," Lord John replied. "Please, Maevis, do sit down."
"No," Maevis told him defiantly. "Besides the fact that if I do, I might not be able to get back up, I am perfectly capable of facing Stephen Bonnet. Have you forgotten who's child I am?"
"Your father most certainly would not-"
"I'm my mother's child, too," she interrupted him. "The Red Witch, you all called her. Don't you remember?" He paused, then subtly nodded. "Did you know she was pregnant with Brèagha during all that? Did you know she was carting Archie around with her while fighting off the English?"
"I… I did know about Archie, but… I… was not aware she was with child," Lord John said a bit meekly, taking the seat for himself. "But surely, her pregnancy was not nearly as advanced-"
"It was when she rescued my father from Wentworth," Maevis said back to him stubbornly, and Lord John sighed.
"Dealing with Jamie is one thing, and your mother another… but both of them together is quite the handful," Lord John said with some exasperation. "I cannot bring you to Wilmington to face Bonnet, but I can tell you what charges have been brought against him." Maevis let out a frustrated growl and turned away from him. "I cannot say how he was apprehended, but I can say that the charges that have been brought against him include smuggling, piracy, and… murder."
"I suppose it's too late now to add 'rape' to that list?" Maevis asked him with her back turned.
"It would only bring shame upon you," Lord John replied.
"Shame already has been 'brought upon me'," Maevis told him, turning around to face him again. "I can't hide this. I'm very obviously pregnant and unmarried."
"A situation, I am told, you have been too stubborn to rectify," Lord John reminded her, and she scoffed again. "And besides… it would be of no consequence."
"No consequence?"
"He has already been sentenced for his previous crimes, and he will soon pay for all of them. He has been sentenced to hang next week," Lord John told her, standing up again.
"Then all the more reason for me to go now," Maevis said again. "I have family there. My step-brother, Fergus. Or I guess adopted… Marsali is definitely my step-sister."
"Maevis, even if your condition allowed for your travel to Wilmington, which it assuredly does not, attendance at an execution could not but have the worst effects on the child," Lord John told her firmly.
"My mother was at a friend's execution when she was pregnant with Ginnie. She was fine!" Maevis spat back at him.
"And you are not your mother!" Lord John told her with a firm, authoritative tone. "And if I know your mother, she will have done everything in her power to ensure that you would never know even a moment of the life she has lived!" Maevis didn't say anything for a moment, but instead turned around to refrain from slapping him across the face, as she was so tempted to do.
"She may have done everything she could have to make sure that didn't happen… but shit still happened to me," she told him calmly, placing one hand over the little foot that was pushing into her abdomen. "I was still raped. She couldn't have protected me from that."
"She would have if she could have, and I imagine she would be distraught if she heard you had gone to see the man who violated you this way," Lord John said to Maevis.
"Well, my mind isn't changed," she told him, turning back around and crossing her arms again. "If you won't take me, then I guess I'll have to go by myself."
"You most certainly will not," Lord John told her firmly.
"So you'll take me?" she asked, and she watched with mild amusement as Lord John's face scrunched up and he sputtered in an effort to come up with a response.
"Your father entrusted me the task of looking after you," he eventually said. "I am not sure that involves taking afternoon tea with a murderer."
"And a rapist," Maevis told him sharply. "You don't understand what it's like for me, and no words exist to make you understand. You just can't. You don't know what I've been through, and on top of all of that, you're a man, who could never understand what it's like to be a woman in this fucked up time."
"Goodness," said Lord John with a small, but sharp intake of breath. "Surely, it is not as difficult as you believe. Most women find themselves at ease-"
"And that is exactly what I'm talking about!" Maevis exclaimed, interrupting him. "You men think you know what's best for us. 'You can't go see an execution because your child might somehow be affected by something that isn't even happening to you', 'You're weak and delicate, you can't even listen to politics without feeling faint', 'You can't ride in a train because your uterus can't handle the speed and will just fly out of your goddamn body even though the rest of the organs seem perfectly fine'!"
"…I beg your pardon?" Lord John asked with grotesque confusion, and Maevis huffed.
"My point is that you don't get to decide what's good for me and what isn't," she told him firmly. "My father doesn't own me, and you're not babysitting me, so you don't get to make the rules - not that I'd follow any anyway. So ultimately, this decision is up to you - either you come with me and accompany me, keep me under your 'watchful and protective' eye, or… I will go alone." Lord John simply sat back down and let out a heavy sigh.
"All right," he said. "We shall leave for Wilmington tomorrow, by boat on the Cape Fear River. We should be there, at most, in about three days' time."
"Good," said Maevis, nodding to him. "I'll pack my things." She turned on her heel to go towards her bedroom, but then paused and turned back to face Lord John. "Thank you. Really. It means a lot."
"I only hope that your father does not string me up along with Bonnet," Lord John said, not callously, but seemingly tired. In that moment, Maevis briefly felt bad for him - it seemed that Jamie Fraser's children were giving him quite the runaround.
11 January, 1770
Wilmington, North Carolina
"Now, if I remember correctly, you have family living on Main Street," Lord John said as he glanced briefly at the sailors who were unloading Maevis and Lizzie's bags. Lizzie had refused to allow Maevis to return to Wilmington completely alone, and after an hour of arguing, Maevis realised that she was basically getting her karma after what she put Lord John through and accepted Lizzie's request.
"Yes, my step-sister," said Maevis, adjusting her cloak over her swollen belly. She was already getting some curious looks, although because Lord John was with her, most simply looked the other way. They probably assumed he was her husband.
"I must speak with the gaoler first before I can allow you near Bonnet, Maevis," Lord John told her. "Why don't you and Miss Wemyss find your lodgings and your step-sister."
"Sounds like a plan," Maevis answered him, looking around at the town. It hadn't changed at all in the almost seven months since she had been here last, but of course, it wouldn't have. Still, something was different about this town… Like it was shrouded in a dark, heavy mist. Was it because she and Bonnet were, once again, sharing the same soil beneath their feet?
"Are ye all right, Mistress?" Lizzie had asked Maevis when she noticed the somewhat blank expression on her face.
"Huh? Oh… Yeah, I'll be all right. Let's go and find my family," Maevis said to her. It wasn't hard to find Marsali and Fergus's home, mostly because Marsali was outside struggling to carry something into her home. "Let me help with that!" Maevis exclaimed, running over to help Marsali lift up the crate.
"Och, I'll be all- Maevis!" Marsali exclaimed when she saw who was assisting her, and she dropped the crate completely. "Crivens, what's brought ye back here te Wilmington? 'Tis a great pleasure te see ye!" Marsali went in for an embrace, but it seemed like both of their swollen bellies bounced off of each other, catching them both off guard. When Marsali saw that Maevis was very obviously pregnant, her eyes widened, and she looked up at her. "Have ye marrit?"
"Um… I… I see you're having another baby, that's wonderful!" Maevis exclaimed, trying to change the subject, but although she knew very little of Marsali, she did know that she couldn't just change the subject that easily.
"Aye, 'twill be due in May," Marsali told her, glancing down at Maevis's bump. "And you?"
"Um… M-March," Maevis replied, her cheeks turning bright red at the thought of being called out.
"Och, come inside," Marsali told her, gesturing for Maevis to enter the home. Nervously, Maevis glanced back at Lizzie, who had already started to collect the things that had fallen out of the crate Marsali had dropped. She went into the house after Marsali, who had already put the kettle on over the fire. "What brings ye te Wilmington? Fergus will be sae glad te see ye. He's doon at the docks just now."
"Um… Can't I just come and see my sister?" Maevis asked her, hoping that would be an acceptable answer, but of course, it wasn't.
"Aye, ye can," Marsali told her with a raised eyebrow. "Generally no' when yer seven months along wi' a wee bairn. So why are ye really here?" Maevis sighed softly and looked down at the table.
"Just to… visit someone," Maevis answered her honestly.
"Hmm, and judgin' by yer tone, ye arenae happy te be doin' sae," Marsali said rather observantly, and then she looked up at Lizzie. "If ye dinnae mind, bring that here te the kitchen."
"Aye, Mistress," said Lizzie in response.
"Would ye mind stirrin' the pot a wee bit? I've supper on just now," Marsali told her, and Lizzie agreed as Marsali sat down at the table across from Maevis. "Is it him?"
"You mean the man who did this to me?" Maevis asked, tired of dodging questions when it was obvious that Marsali was more on the blunt side, and then she sighed. "Yes…"
"Is he a sailor?" she asked next. "Och, wha's that song Mother Catrìona always sings aboot sailors?"
"There's a lot of those," Maevis said, awkwardly chucking softly. "But… no… He's not a sailor. At least… not a legal one."
"Och, puir lass," said Marsali with sympathy, but Maevis just shook her head.
"No," she said. "He's not a good person. He attacked me." At this, Marsali gasped, her hand flying over her mouth.
"Good gracious, he violated ye?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, and let's tell all of Wilmington while we're at it," Maevis said a bit irritably.
"Och, I'm sae sorry, sister," Marsali told her, covering Maevis's hand with hers. "Has Da found ye a husband yet?" Maevis scoffed and pulled her hand out from under Marsali's with annoyance.
"Why is everyone so dead set on me finding a husband? I don't need a husband!" she exclaimed, standing up and pacing across the floor.
"Of course we dinnae need husbands, but trust me, when bairns are involved, 'tis much easier," Marsali told her, looking towards the bedroom, where Maevis assumed Germain was sleeping.
"Maybe so, but I can't just… dump this on someone else," she replied with a heavy sigh, and then she sat back down at the table. "This was my doing. My mistake. I was the one who was stupid enough to put myself in his path."
"Och, a nighean. 'Tis never yer fault. When a man decides he can have his way wi' ye, it… can be hard te stop him," Marsali told her, doing her best to comfort her. "It helps when it's a man ye ken who wants te help ye. 'Twas how Da marrit my mother. Because of him, we werenae tossed out onto the streets starvin'."
"I'm glad to hear it, but I don't think our situations are the same," Maevis said with a small sigh. "Actually, I met your mother, when I went to Lallybroch."
"Och, did ye? I didnae ken tha'. She didnae mention sae in her letters," Marsali replied.
"Well… She didn't exactly… like me when she saw me. She thought I was my mother at first, and the whole time, she was… Well, for lack of a better word, mean to me," Maevis told her, and Marsali sighed and buried her face in her hands.
"I'm sae sorry fer her," she said, shaking her head. "If only she'd take the time te get te ken Mother Catrìona, she would see tha' she isnae sae bad!" The kettle started screaming, so Marsali jumped up and raced to the fire, nearly shoving Lizzie out of the way. "Och, sorry, I'm puir fashed, I am!" She quickly poured the tea, then brought it over to Maevis at the table, handing her a cup. "Sae, tell me aboot this pirate."
"There isn't much to tell," said Maevis honestly. "He attacked me and now I'm carrying his child. Children, actually… There's two."
"Twins? Tha' may verra well be God's way of given ye fortune. Twins are lucky, ye ken," Marsali told her.
"Maybe for the mother, but not for the twins. Elton and I are twins, too, and we got off to a rotten start, didn't we?" Maevis asked her, taking a sip of the tea.
"Och, puir hen. Here, ye need a wee dram of this," said Marsali, and she pulled a small flask of alcohol out of her pocket and poured some into Maevis's tea, which completely shocked her.
"What are you doing? Alcohol is bad for babies!" she exclaimed, now surprising Marsali.
"Och, cannae be sae! Calms 'em right doon, it does," she replied rather nonchalantly, putting some into her own tea.
"It makes them develop wrong. They can be born… broken," Maevis told her, unsure of how to word 'birth defects' in a way Marsali would understand.
"Germain turned oot fine, he did, and sae did I, and ye as well. I cannae get through the day wi' all this sickness," Marsali told her, rubbing her own belly as she sipped from the tea. "Helps the nerves, it does."
"Well, I don't want any," Maevis told her with a small huff. "Besides, I want to be clear-headed when I see him later." Marsali spit her tea.
"See him? Ye dinnae mean te say yer goin' off te see this auld bampot?" Marsali demanded with wide eyes.
"It's why I'm here in Wilmington," Maevis told her. "I need to see him before he dies, or else… I'll never recover from this. I'll see him in my nightmares for the rest of my life and I… I can't live like that."
"Och, sae I see," said Marsali, setting down her tea. "If ye wait, Fergus will be home soon. He can accompany ye."
"I already have company," Maevis replied. "Lord John Grey. He came with me. He's speaking to the gaoler now."
"Lord Grey? The redcoat?" Marsali asked her. "Aye, suppose he's no' sae bad a connection te have… Ye cannae tell Da, though. He'll be furious."
"I'm old enough to make my own decisions," Maevis told her. "I just… I have to do this, and if I don't… I don't know what'll happen. I don't know if I'll be able to look at my children and love them without remembering what he did to me."
"Lovin' yer bairn comes natural, I've found," Marsali told her. "Then again, mine was borne out of love, no' rape… But if ye must see him, then who'm I te say ye cannae? Just promise me ye'll be careful, sister."
"I will," Maevis told her. "I won't let him hurt me again."
12 January, 1770
"Are you certain that you must see Bonnet?" Lord John asked her for probably the fifth time since they left the inn, and Maevis let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes, Lord John. I must," she said to him, trying not to sound impatient. "I know that forgiving him won't change what happened, but if I can say my piece, then maybe… maybe I'll be able to sleep at night again. I just have to try, for my babies." Maevis awkwardly bumped into someone, setting her off kilter, and she let out a huff.
"Goodness. The crudeness of some people. Are you all right, Maevis?" Lord John asked as he steadied her.
"Yeah, I just… I'm not used to being this size," Maevis told him, distracting herself a little as they walked towards the gaol. "I've always been smaller. I thought that I'd get used to it by now, but I guess not. I just get more and more uncomfortable."
"I could not imagine such a thing," said Lord John, pulling her further away from the crowd. "Although when I inquire after your well-being… I don't just mean your health."
"I thought not," said Maevis with a sigh. "It's harder to be here than I thought. I thought I could face him without fear, but… I guess I'm not as much like my mother as I thought."
"I have heard stories of your mother's bravery," Lord John told her. "Even seen it in person. However… I do remember that on the night we met… even she was frightened. She put on a brave face, but I imagine having an enemy so near her child was… unsettling."
"Enemy?" Maevis asked, raising a brow at him. "How did you meet my mother?"
"Oh, it must have been… twenty-five years ago now, I'd say. Maybe a little less. I was just a boy, scarcely younger than yourself, and I had happened upon your father in the woods. It was during the war, and I knew he was the famed Red Jamie that we were after. I tried to… Ah, forgive me. I tried to cut his throat, but he caught me and broke my arm," said Lord John, chuckling at the memory.
"I guess I'd do the same if you tried to cut my throat," Maevis replied a bit awkwardly.
"Yes, he certainly cannot be blamed," Lord John replied. "He tried to get answers out of me about the British army, but I wouldn't give them… Not until a red-haired Englishwoman emerged defending me from him. He said he would do… vile things to her, and I was a naive fool who…" His voice trailed off as he told his story. The gaol had come into view, and Maevis was focused solely on that, as opposed to Lord John's story. "…and, as it turned out, she was his wife, and she was Scottish. I must say, she put on a damn good English accent…" He paused when he realised that Maevis was no longer listening, then stopped them. "Maevis? Are you well?"
"Yeah," Maevis said softly. She closed her eyes, and for a second, she could feel Bonnet's icy, vicious grip on her, smell his horrid alcohol breath, feel the pain between her legs… "God… It all comes back, doesn't it?"
"Memories?" Lord John asked her. "I dare not hope to know what you are seeing… I can tell you one thing. A baby is to be expected, whereas memories… are not. They simply… come." Maevis didn't answer him, and Lord John didn't push her. "Maevis, you do not have to do this."
"No, I do," Maevis replied, looking up at him. Unconsciously, her hand rested on her belly protectively. "I just… I really miss my mother. I need her strength just now."
"Hmph," said Lord John with a soft chuckle. "Your mother and I did not always get on… but I daresay I find myself missing her at times as well, particularly when I am ill. In spite of her unwaveringly direct manner, she is… quite a remarkable woman." This made Maevis smile a little.
"You don't know the half of it," she said, thinking of her mother's actions during the Second Scottish Wars for Independence. But then, her smile faded. "I just hope she returns before the babies arrive… but I don't think she will."
"Knowing your parents, they are doing everything in their power to bring Rory home to your sister, and to come home to you," Lord John told her. He cleared his throat and offered his arm to her. "Shall we?" Maevis felt her stomach drop, but she nodded anyway.
"Yes… Yes, we shall," she said softly, and Lord John led her towards the gaol. As they approached, Maevis took note of some of the broadsheets, and she softly gasped when she realised a familiar face was looking back at her: Murtagh. He'd mentioned something about Wilmington when he had dropped Maevis and her siblings off at Jocasta's, but that was months ago. Surely, he wouldn't be stupid enough to show his face in a town where his face was on broadsheets?
"Maevis?" Lord John asked. "Ah… Mr. Fitzgibbons."
"You know him?" Maevis asked, turning her head to look at him.
"I am… acquainted with him. Through your father, mainly," Lord John told her.
"Well, why is he wanted? What did he do?" Maevis asked him with some urgency.
"For disrupting the peace," Lord John told her. "He has been gallivanting about the Colony with the Regulators, and is suspected of leading them. For the sake of my friendship with your father, I hope he is not foolish enough to show his face here."
"I had the same thought," Maevis told him, looking back at the broadsheet, and then she let out a breath of air she hadn't realised she was holding. "Let's just… get this over with."
"Of course," said Lord John, leading Maevis inside. The gaol looked like something out of an old west movie, right down to the swinging doors. There were some cells that were visible with prisoners that had committed less offensive crimes inside, but apparently, Stephen Bonnet was being held in a secure cell in the basement, of all places - the warden or gaol master or whatever he was called actually called it 'the dungeon'. "I can assure you, sir, that such accommodations are nothing like a true dungeon," Lord John said to the man while Maevis took in her surroundings. One man in one of the cells whistled at her, but she simply turned away and pretended she didn't hear him.
"Aye, 'tis my dungeon," said the man with a thick Irish accent. "Spend a wee night at O'Doyle's and ye'll come te see it my way. What did ye say yer name was again?"
"Lord John Grey of Lynchburg," Lord John told him, and the Irishman raised a furry brow at him.
"Virginia?" he asked him, and then he eyed Maevis curiously. "And the lassie?"
"My name is Maevis Fraser," Maevis told him before Lord John could speak for her.
"Miss Maevis Fraser is the sister of my betrothed," said Lord John as O'Doyle looked Maevis up and down.
"Her sister? Ye dinna mean-" he began to say, but Maevis cut him off.
"Whatever our relationship is doesn't matter here," she told him a bit firmly, surprising both of the men, and she continued to ignore the whistles and whoops behind her. "We're here to see one of your prisoners."
"You?" O'Doyle asked her, and then he cackled. "You?"
"Yes, me," Maevis spat at him.
"Ah… Governor Tryon has arranged for us to have an audience with one Stephen Bonnet," said Lord John, interrupting the conversation before it got out of hand.
"Aye," said O'Doyle once he'd calmed down. "His Excellency's secretary sent word apprisin' me of yer arrival. I just didna ken ye had a wee lassie wi' ye. Come wi' me." Maevis scoffed a little as she and Lord John followed the little round Irishman and fought off the urge to call him a leprechaun.
"Come back for a visit, sweetheart!" shouted one of the men in the cell, and others whistled along with him.
"Quiet, you!" shouted the other guard, and Maevis caught his eye. There was a strange look in it, but she didn't have the time to digest that. As O'Doyle led them down into the basement, he belched rather loudly, and Maevis had to cover her face with her hand to refrain from gagging.
"We moved 'im here, chained 'im te the wall," said O'Doyle as they continued down a long corridor - long enough to likely extend way beyond the borders of the gaol up above them. Maevis assumed that, as the only gaol in Wilmington, it needed quite a few cells and must have expanded into the basement. It also reached the river, so perhaps it was used for storage occasionally. "For yer protection, wee lassie."
"I'm not a 'wee lassie'," Maevis said to him somewhat irritably, and O'Doyle made a gruff sound.
"So I see," he said, and then he coughed and belched again. "If ye'll be needin' me, I'll be above."
"Playing cards and drinking probably," Maevis muttered softly as O'Doyle left them in that damp, cold and dark basement, and then she let out a small huff. "I want to see him alone."
"Goodness, Maevis. Surely, you must know that I cannot allow such a thing," Lord John tried to reprimand her, but a firm look from Maevis shut him right up.
"We've talked about this. You don't own me, you don't control me," she said to him rather sharply.
"And… if anything happens?" Lord John asked her, clearly uncomfortable with this.
"He's in chains," she replied. "What's he going to do? Rattle his chains at me until my ears bleed?"
"Goodness," said Lord John with a sigh. "If your father-"
"My father is miles away from here. What's he going to do?" Maevis asked him. "Just… wait here. I need to do this alone."
"Why must you do such a dreadful thing alone? Is it because your mother once faced her adversaries alone?" Lord John asked her a bit irritably, and she huffed.
"Seeing as you can't stop reminding me that I'm not my mother, no," she snapped. "This isn't about some chivalry thing and I'm not trying to emasculate you, so stop taking it so personally. I was alone when he hurt me, and I want to be alone when I face him." Lord John, quite taken aback, didn't answer her. "I'm not asking you to go outside or go back upstairs with Sir Doyle Belch. Just wait here." Finally, the stubborn Englishman gave a firm sigh.
"Very well. But I will stay within earshot," he told her firmly.
"The definition of 'alone' means 'just me'. Wait here," Maevis told him, and then she turned on her heel and started down the brick corridor before he had a chance to argue with her. The first few cells were empty, and she started to wonder if Stephen Bonnet was here at all, but then she heard the sound of chains rattling softly a few cells down and froze, gasping softly. So he was here. God… Brigid, whoever was listening. Why was this so difficult? Someone, anyone… Give me strength. Maevis had never really been a religious person. Her first few years, she was pagan, along with her mother, but she grew up in northern New Jersey, where a lot of Roman Catholics lived. Stephanie was Roman Catholic, so until she was old enough to make her own decisions, Maevis went to a Roman Catholic Church. So whoever was listening, whether it be God or one of the Celtic deities, she prayed silently. She felt her feet moving forward, slowly but surely, and she approached the cold, dark and damp cell. Like the rest of O'Doyle's dungeon, it reeked of mildew and must, but this cell featured the stink of an unwashed male - a familiar stink. A stink that haunted her dreams.
"So merry, so merry, so merry are we,
No mortal on earth's like a sailor at sea…"
It was him. Maevis recognised that cold, hateful voice anywhere. Husky and relaxed, as if he lived so well, he was never on edge. He sounded as if he didn't have a care in the world… Lucky him. He lived his life as if he were above the law, above everyone, doing as he pleased with no care for what happened to others. He stole Mama's ring and killed their friend, he all but locked Brèagha and Elton in their cabin on his ship because they had red hair… and he raped Maevis. Well, the tables certainly have turned now. Now Bonnet was locked in chains and soon, he would hang for his crimes. Did Maevis care? In her time, she had attended a couple of protests with Gaia, Lilibet and other friends in Philadelphia opposing capital punishment when a conservative Pennsylvania governor brought it back, but in this time, there was no question. Piracy, murder, theft, even rape… All of it was punishable by death. The Maevis of the twenty-second century would care. She was innocent, naive, unharmed… But the Maevis of this century had been harmed, raped, shown that the world is a darker place than she had once thought… This Maevis didn't bat an eye at the knowledge that Stephen Bonnet would soon be hanging from the end of a rope.
"So merry are we as we're sailing along,
Give a sailor his grog and then nothing goes wrong…"
Maevis stepped into the cell and Bonnet, who was crumpled up uncomfortably on the floor, stopped singing and glanced up at her. Recognition flashed in his eyes - he knew who she was. "You're not locked in a cell," Maevis observed, looking around at the brick room with no door. "Guess you don't need it when you're chained to a wall."
"Hmph," said Bonnet, chuckling softly. "Easier te feed the prisoners."
"It can't be easy… Eating while chained to a wall," Maevis told him with a hint of firmness. He chuckled again, but didn't say anything, and several moments passed before Maevis spoke again. "Do… Do you know who I am?"
"The Queen of Sheba?" Bonnet asked, chuckling at his own joke. "I don't think ye were after telling me your name, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that," she snapped at him, and Bonnet lifted his head to look at her, a sly smile stretching across his lips.
"I remember your face… that striking fire on your head… and a few other things… But not yer name," Bonnet replied. Maevis was glad of the limited lighting, because she did not want him to see the heat on her face when he mentioned the rape. Although despite the lighting, he seemed to be able to see her clearly, and his eyes rested on her swollen belly.
"My name is Maevis," she told him. "Maevis Fraser."
"Maevis? Now, tha's a name… Like Queen Maeve of Connaught… Famous fer her beauty and her… sexual prowess," Bonnet told her, giving her a hungry look, and she stamped her foot.
"My parents are Jamie and Catrìona Fraser. They saved your life, and you robbed them," she said to him sharply.
"Yes," Bonnet admitted with confidence.
"And Elton and Brèagha Fraser are my brother and sister. You locked them in their cabin on your ship for months because they have red hair," she continued.
"Oh, sweetheart, everyone knows what horrible misfortunes befall those who cross the path of individuals with fire fer hair," said Bonnet in a taunting tone.
"I said don't call me that," she snarled at him.
"Hmph," he said. "Well, if ye've come in hopes of retrieving your father's jewels, then I'm afraid you left it too late," he told her, and then he leaned forward against the chains, as if to tell her a dirty secret. "I sold them to buy a ship."
"I'm not here for that," she told him.
"Hmm… There was a trinket you were after when we first met," said Bonnet, pretending to recall, but he knew. Bonnet was the sort of man who never forgot anything. "A ring?"
"My mother's ring, which you stole," Maevis spat at him, and Bonnet chuckled.
"Ah… but you got that back," he told her vilely, and Maevis took a quick, deep breath and closed her eyes to calm herself.
"I'm told you're going to hang," she said to him.
"I'm told the same thing," said Bonnet. "Ye'll not have come from pity, though, I shouldn't think."
"No," she spat back. "I'll rest easier when you're dead."
"Bonny and fierce. You remind me of someone I met, on the Cape Fear River some… three years ago now," Bonnet taunted her, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What is it ye want from me, darlin'?"
"Don't call me that, either," she said.
"Very well, Queen Maeve… What is it ye want from me, then?" Bonnet asked again.
"Nothing," Maevis replied. "I want to be the one to tie that rope around your neck myself, but I know that won't happen. I know that won't make what you did to me go away… So I came to give you something instead." It was Bonnet's turn to scoff lightly.
"I've had whores try to foist their spawn on me before," he told her, and Maevis had to force herself to take another deep breath. If someone called her a damn whore one more time… Forget it. That's not what you're here for.
"I'm not a whore… and I have no reason to lie," she told him, looking up at him again. "I don't know why I'm doing this, because you certainly don't deserve it… but I want to give you my forgiveness." She paused for a moment. "I forgive you - only because I want to be able to close my eyes and not see your face." He made a noise of amusement. "Don't laugh at me. You are a man. You get to go through your life with no consequences, meanwhile, I get attacked and raped and I'm the one at fault. But I'll be okay, because you're the one who's going to die… But my mother is a healer, and she doesn't believe in holding grudges, and she instilled that in me. So I forgive you, and if knowing that a piece of you will be left on earth when you're gone makes that easier for you… then you're welcome to the knowledge." Bonnet didn't say anything, but he did have a strange look on his face. Maevis scoffed lightly. "I'm finished with you now. Let's go, Lord John." She turned on her heel and let out a small scream when she saw someone - the other guard from upstairs - standing in the doorway of the cell behind her, and she took a step back. She screamed again when someone grabbed her from behind and forcibly covered her mouth with their hand.
"Took your time, Murchison. Somethin' more important than I?" Bonnet asked the man that had been standing in the doorway rather maliciously, and Maevis bit Bonnet's hand, causing him to hiss.
"You bastard!" she shouted. He hadn't been chained up at all! She made a run for the door, but this time, it was the man called Murchison who grabbed her.
"You won't be going anywhere, little lady," said Murchison, shoving her back into the cell, and she fell down onto the ground.
"Easy on her, will ye? 'Tis my brat she's carrying," said Bonnet as Murchison handed him a lantern.
"You're not planning to take her with you, are you?" Murchison asked Bonnet with a somewhat disgusted look on his face.
"Need te lay low after this. Maybe I'll settle down, with a wife and child. See what the lure for such a life is," said Bonnet, looking down at Maevis with a maliciously amused look on his face, and then he reached down and grabbed her "Get up!"
"John!" Maevis shouted, knowing that Lord John was close. Why wasn't he here? Bonnet dragged her out into the corridor and Maevis gasped again when she saw Lord John's limp form laying at the bottom of the stairs. "You killed him!"
"Killed who?" Bonnet demanded, looking at Murchison. "Who the hell is that?"
"A busybody," Murchison growled. "Hurry now, no time to waste! I've taken care of that fool O'Doyle and the fuses are lit. This whore will only hold us back." Maevis struggled against Bonnet's arm and tried to kick them both.
"Uh-uh-uh," said Bonnet in a taunting tone. "Yer comin' with us, Queen Maeve."
"Man!" Murchison exclaimed.
"Ye heard me!" Bonnet snapped at him. Maevis had to think of a way to escape. She couldn't allow herself to be kidnapped by Bonnet, of all people! Oh, she should have just listened to everyone who told her not to come! This was a foolish mistake! Lord John had been right, Maevis wasn't her mother, so why did she think acting like her would be such a good idea? She couldn't fight like her mother could, she didn't grow up fighting in a war. The closest she had ever come was karate lessons when she was ten. Wait…
"I'm telling you, there's no time, I said," Murchison snapped at Bonnet. "No one will find them!"
"The broad I can do without. But the child…" said Bonnet curiously, and suddenly, the corridor became overwhelmed by the scent of gunpowder. While Bonnet and Murchison briefly argued about whether to leave Maevis or take her, she quickly took inventory of what she could use in her immediate reach. Murchison had a gun on his left hip, which was close enough for Maevis to grab. She quickly made a grab for it and swiped Bonnet across the face with it, forcing him to stumble and let go of her, and then she forcibly kicked Murchison in his balls, causing him to let out a shrill scream. When Bonnet corrected himself, Maevis stepped back and pointed the gun at him, and Bonnet made a mock of raising his arms in the air and taking one step towards her. "Yer a clever one, Queen Maeve."
"Get away from me," she snapped at him.
"You don't mean to kill me, surely?" Bonnet asked her. "Come, now… you don't seem that kind of girl." Freedom might be hard-won, but it was never the fruit of murder.
"You don't know me at all," she spat back at him. He took another step toward her and she cocked the gun. All she needed to do was put a little bit of pressure on the trigger and it would all be over for Bonnet, and he knew that.
"The gaol is laid wi' gunpowder and fuses," he told her cautiously. "I can't say how long, but soon, it's goin' up with an almighty bang. I'll be dead… and so will you and the brat."
"What do you care?" Maevis asked him.
"Well, I'd sure hate te see such a fine woman dead," Bonnet told her, and she scoffed at him.
"So you do have a conscious?" she asked.
"For God's sake, woman, let us out of here!" shouted Murchison with desperation, but Maevis ignored him.
"Ain't you afraid of death?" Bonnet asked her, now genuinely curious.
"Man!" whined Murchison.
"Aren't you?" Maevis asked him, and he smiled.
"Death always comes knockin' at my door," he replied. A small noise could be heard behind them - it sounded like Lord John waking up. He wasn't dead!
"Help me get him out of here and I won't shoot you," Maevis growled at him through gritted teeth, making a show of putting her finger on the trigger and making Bonnet flinch a little. It felt so good to see fear glaze over his snake-like eyes, even for a moment.
"For Christ's sweet sake, woman, there's twelve-hundred weight of pitch and turpentine overhead!" Bonnet snapped at her, his cool composure that he'd kept now cracking.
"Help him!" Maevis demanded, and Bonnet growled and pushed past her to grab Lord John. With the pistol still pointed at Murchison, Maevis joined him to help lift Lord John up. "You'll be okay…" She had been distracted only for a moment, but that was all he needed. Bonnet kicked her wrist which contained the pistol and her finger pushed on the trigger, firing it. The bullet ricocheted off the walls until it struck Murchison in the neck, and Maevis gasped with shock. "No!"
"Leave him!" Bonnet shouted as he started dragging Lord John and Maevis through the corridor. Truth to be told, Maevis wasn't exactly sure what happened after this, as she seemed to enter almost a dream-like state. She was dragged through the corridor and as sunlight appeared on the other side, there were several loud consecutive booms, indicating that the gunpowder had exploded, and the three of them were forced out the door and onto the grassy hill by the blast. They rolled down the hill limply, Maevis doing the best that she could to protect her belly, until she lay on her back looking up at the sky. Her ears were ringing and her vision was cloudy, until she felt herself being jerked upright and shaken, then heard the muffled sounds of someone speaking to her. "…MAEVIS!"
"Huh?" Maevis asked, turning her head to see more clearly that Bonnet was the one shaking her.
"I've a ship waiting, a little way up river. Will you come with me then?" he asked, surprisingly out of character. She was still dazed as she looked at him, struggling to comprehend what he had said. "Maevis!"
"No," she said finally, quietly and calmly. "No, I won't go…" He let out a growl and turned to look up at the gaol, which had been engulfed in flames. He then looked back at Maevis, his green eyes shifting down to look at her swollen belly.
"It's true, ain't it?" he asked, laying one hand on her belly, and she smacked it away. Though she felt numb, there was fire in her eyes, and Bonnet saw that clearly. He chuckled with mild amusement, then reached into his mouth to unlodge something. He grabbed Maevis's hand and placed in her palm a black diamond, and then he closed her fingers around it and kissed her hand. "Fer his maintenance. Take care of him, sweetheart." With that said, he got up and ran towards the river, diving in and swimming away to whatever ship he had down river.
14 January, 1770
River Run, North Carolina
BRÈAGHA POV
Brèagha, Jocasta and Clara all shared tea together in the parlour, as it was a frigid day and none of them wanted to go outside. The silence was broken by Geordie Severs bursting into the parlour out of breath and frightened out of his mind, alarming the three women. "Geordie!" Brèagha exclaimed, and Jocasta clicked her tongue.
"Geordie, whatever could it be?" she said with mild disappointment.
"T-Twas an explosion, m-ma'am!" Geordie exclaimed. "At th-the gaol in Wilmington!"
"An explosion?" Clara demanded, standing up. "That's close to my father's bank. What happened?"
"T-Twas the pirate, St-Stephen B-Bonnet," Geordie continued. "H-H-He escaped… B-but Maevis was there!"
"Maevis?" Brèagha demanded next. "What do ye mean? She said she just wanted te go and visit Marsali…" Geordie shook his head.
"Sh-she… and L-Lord Grey both… In the blast," Geordie continued.
"Oh, goodness!" Jocasta exclaimed.
"Are they hurt? What happened?" Brèagha demanded again.
"B-Both hurt… b-but all right," Geordie told her. "Th-they're b-bein' seen… b-by…"
"Oh, Geordie, spit it out, fer Christ's sake! How badly is she hurt?" Brèagha demanded, getting up and backing him into the wall.
"I-I-I…" Geordie stammered, and then Ulysses entered the parlour with a letter.
"A letter for Mistress Cameron from Lord John G-" he began to say, but Brèagha snatched the letter from his hands.
"Give me that!" she exclaimed, grabbing the letter and ripping into it.
"Read it out loud, dear," Jocasta told her as Brèagha scanned over the letter, a firmly worried expression on her face.
"'It is with displeasure tha' I must inform ye I deceived ye aboot my visit te Wilmington wi' yer niece, Maevis. We came te allow Maevis closure, as the pirate Stephen Bonnet was the man who attacked her, and all would be well if it werenae fer deceitful tactics used by a man thought te be trustworthy by the Crown. Bonnet's escape was orchestrated by a Sergeant Murchison, who was lost in the conflagration. It seems tha' our visit was ill-timed. I was attacked by the Sergeant, and Maevis was nearly kidnapped by Bonnet, but eluded capture'."
"Och, I should hae known not te trust that Sergeant Murchison," Jocasta chimed in with disgust.
"We are both bein' tended te by a physician and are both doin' well. Maevis's child is unharmed and we shall return in due course'," Brèagha read, and then she smacked the letter against her thighs as she huffed and paced about the room. "How could she be so foolish? She verra well could have gotten herself and Lord Grey killed!"
"But she didn't!" Clara interjected. "How could she have had any idea that this was going to happen?"
"It doesnae matter, she shouldnae have gone!" Brèagha snapped back at her, and then she let out a firm growl. "She never thinks! No' thinkin' aboot her actions is what got her wi' child in the first place, and now, she verra nearly got herself and Lord Grey killed!"
"It doesn't matter now. They're both unharmed and that's all that matters now," Clara said, trying to reason with her.
"But it does matter, because this isnae the first tha' harm has come due te her makin' foolish decisions!" Brèagha snapped back. "'Tis no use speakin' te her. She will continue te make foolish decisions and get us all killed someday!" Furious at her sister, Brèagha slammed the letter down onto the table and stormed out of the parlour, going outside to cool down her fiery anger. She remembered the news that Maevis brought with her, that sometime in 1776, a fire would destroy their home at Fraser's Ridge, taking everyone with them. Would Maevis cause that fire? She had to do something about this… but what? What could be done to stop her sister from causing more harm than she already had?
21 January, 1770
MAEVIS POV
Maevis and Lord John, still bruised and battered, but healed from the explosion at the gaol, arrived at River Run cold, exhausted, and in desperate need of rest. Clara met them at the river, quick to embrace her new sister. "When we heard, we were so worried!" Clara said to her. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"We will be," said Maevis, giving her a small smile.
"I must warn you, your sister is quite furious," Clara told her as they made their way to the house. "Perhaps you should share my room, for a time."
"I can just stay in Caoimhe's. I don't want to invade your space," Maevis told her calmly. "I'm sure Brèagha's mad. Everything I do pisses her off."
"I did try to convince her that this was not your fault. You didn't cause the explosion, and you didn't know it was going to happen, either," Clara replied, and Maevis sighed slightly, still quite shaken up. The explosion itself hadn't rattled her all that much - after watching Glasgow get nuked, she didn't think that any explosion could compare - but it was the fact that she had accidentally killed someone. Lord John told her that it was of no harm, that it was an accident and Murchison would have been hanged for his crimes anyway, but that didn't make Maevis feel any better. Regardless of whether Murchison deserved it or not, Maevis was still the one that killed him. "Oh, let us get you inside to rest, poor thing…" As Clara led Maevis inside, Ulysses was seen standing in the doorframe to Jocasta's study.
"At your earliest convenience, your aunt wishes to speak with you," Ulysses told her.
"She needs to rest first," Clara told him firmly, and Ulysses nodded.
"Mistress Cameron agrees," he replied. As they started up the stairs, Brèagha emerged from the parlour and scoffed when she saw Maevis. At first, she seemed as if she would simply go outside to greet her 'fiancé', but then she stopped and turned to face her sister.
"You are a reckless fool," she said to her. "Ye could have gotten yerself killed, and then what would we have done? What would Mama and Da have done? Ye and Archie both are sae lucky neither of them were here te see ye both be damned fools! Yer both lucky yer alive!"
"I appreciate the concern, Bree. Really," Maevis told her, giving her sister a small smile, and Brèagha huffed and turned on her heel to go outside.
"She might be angry, but I think it's because she was scared," Clara told her. "I know you and your sister don't get along… but blood is blood. She was worried about you. Don't tell her I told you this, but many times, I found her watching the river for the arrival of your boat when she thought no one was looking."
"Really? That's surprising," Maevis replied, genuinely surprised by this news. "I thought she might try to have me committed or something."
"I don't know your sister all that well, but I believe it was genuine concern," Clara told her. "Come, now. You need your rest. I'll have tea sent up as well." Clara aided Maevis up the stairs, getting her settled comfortably in her bed. Little Juniper, the kitten that Geordie had given her, jumped up onto the bed and curled up beside her, purring softly as she ran her fingers through his silky black fur. All was well… for now.
