Will You Teach Me… ?
Hello everyone ! I hope you enjoyed the cute little chapter last time, because the vibe in this one will be quite different! Brianna is getting sick of playing perfect wife and the situation becomes a little bit tense…
As always, don't forget to give me your thoughts on the chapter! It keeps me happy and motivated! And thanks to Rath101 and LykkeF for the reviews!
Rath101: the power play has just started, my dear, I hope you enjoy it! :)
LykkeF: Hmmm Roger will show up, but not just now…. I can't wait for your opinion on what happens in this chapter ahahahah it's so intense!
oOo
9. Hurt Me Tender
Two days before leaving for Wilmington, Brianna could barely hide her excitement. The thought of being allowed a semblance of freedom out of the plantation – maybe even send a message to her parents in secret, and especially buy some abortive plants – somewhat lifted the heavy burden of the last few weeks. So much so that she even caught herself smiling at the sight of Jeremiah running after Blue in the garden. The gentle late summer heat, the pleasant warmth of the sun on her face, the smell of dry land and flower beds… she could almost imagine Jamie stepping out on the porch to come and laugh with her at the sight of the child playing with his dog.
But instead of her father, it was Bonnet who interrupted her daydream announcing that they would have dinner earlier tonight, and Brianna's smile faded. That change was not lost on the Irishman, who glared at her disappointedly and disappeared inside the house again. Until Phaedre completely burst Brianna's bubble and brought her back to reality.
"Jeremiah? Would you please go to your room and change? It's nearly dinner time!"
"Already?", Brianna wondered, looking down at her left wrist, before rolling her eyes. Four whole years in the eighteenth century, and she still had that damn reflex to search for her watch when she needed to know the time… "Isn't it a little early?"
"Mr. Bonnet's order…", Phaedre muttered with an apologetic look. Brianna frowned. Bonnet obviously wanted to rush supper and bedtime, but why? Had he planned something special? As long as I'm not that special thing…, she shuddered as she watched Jeremiah run up to his nanny, Blue yapping happily on his heels. "Did he say why?"
Phaedre shook her head and hurried home with the child, while Brianna started to feel anxious. The sun was not yet about to set, but its golden color and its angle in the sky told her it was probably around six o'clock. Bonnet was a night owl, they rarely had dinner before eight, sometimes even later. He had even given up on getting Jeremiah to eat with them, as the little boy literally fell asleep in his plate after seven-thirty. The curiosity was killing her, and Brianna ran to the magnificent bronze and gold clock (one of the many too heavy and useless pieces of furniture that Jocasta had not taken with her) on the mantlepiece. The hands barely indicated five-thirty. That was more than thirty minutes ahead of the time when Jeremiah was usually asked to get ready for dinner.
In the dining room, the footmen were already busy setting the table for two, debunking her theory of a last-minute guest. Maybe he has to be somewhere after dinner? Two hands suddenly slipped around her waist and she jumped. Too absorbed in her assumptions, she hadn't heard Bonnet approaching behind her.
"Are you going somewhere, tonight?", she asked casually, trying to escape his wandering hands. But he held on, pulling her back to him as easily as a rag doll.
"No."
Without giving more information, he leaned towards her neck to cover it with kisses, as if to let her know that the conversation was over and that he had other plans for her mouth. Wincing, Brianna squirmed, craning her neck backwards. If she kept on asking questions, maybe he would lose all desire to grope her. Or not… It's hard to know with him. "Then why are we eating so early?"
"You always complain that we eat late…", Bonnet breathed against her skin.
"I know, but I've gotten used to it... and now it's way too early, so I'm wondering..."
This time, Bonnet let out a loud groan and straightened up. He looked so exasperated that Brianna had to hide a triumphant smile. Stephen struggled for a moment to stay calm, as his wife waited patiently for answers.
"We eat early so you can go to bed early as well", he explained with a fake smile. "Satisfied?"
Brianna blinked, analyzing the answer and everything it involved. Stephen was indeed trying to dismiss her for the evening, either because he was planning on sneaking out... or because someone was coming here and he didn't want her around. And above all, he had said "you", which suggested that he would not go to bed with her, and just for that... Thank, God, she thought with a sigh of relief.
"Fine."
Now, it was Bonnet's turn to blink stupidly. He certainly hadn't expected her to come to terms with the situation so quickly and frowned as he noticed the happy look on his young wife's face. "Good." Considering the subject dropped, he relaxed and leaned over her again, but this time Brianna had anticipated his move and backed up sharply towards the stairs.
"I'll go and get ready, then. The sooner we have dinner, the sooner I can go upstairs and lie down. This day has been exhausting...", she exclaimed emphatically. If it is even possible to be exhausted playing trophy wife... Bonnet's expression was so satisfying that Brianna had to bite her lip to suppress her laughter on the way out. This was not over, though; she was determined to sneak out of her room at nightfall and discover the identity of the mysterious visitor.
Bonnet had been quite silent throughout the meal, his eyes staring at the door leading to the entrance hall, and Bree had made a point of swallowing every bite at snail's pace. If by any chance she did not finish her plate before their guest arrived, perhaps she would know who it was… In front of her, on the other side of the table, Bonnet saw right through her and regularly glared at his wife's cutlery, which didn't move fast enough for his liking. As she had barely started her dessert – a slice of apple pie – the silent guard usually assigned to keep a constant watch on her burst into the dining room, giving Stephen a simple nod.
"Well, darlin'... it is time for you to go to our room", said the Irishman, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before he remembered he had a towel for that and rubbed his hand on it.
"I haven't finished my..."
"Phaedre will bring it up to you."
Her husband's tone was final – as were his eyes – and Brianna thought it best not to insist. Besides, the guard was already stepping forward to pull up her chair. One wrong word and he would probably throw her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs like a potato sack. Out of sheer pride, she grabbed her plate to carry it herself, with an evil expression that brought a smirk to the pirate's lips. After playing for time at supper, she tried to stall on her way to the stairs but the guard was following closely, forcing her to speed up and she was soon alone in their room, while the man stood in the hallway. Damn… Gobbling up her pie, she waited for him to return to his business, but the man didn't seem determined to leave his post. After about twenty minutes spent with her cheek glued to the door panel, straining an ear for the slightest creaking of the floor that might indicate he was leaving, Brianna realized her mistake: the guard stayed there because she wasn't moving either. A normal woman would make noise taking off her clothes, then going to bed – especially with a bed as noisy as theirs. Her immobility betrayed her intentions to sneak out of the room as soon as he was gone. I must pretend I'm going to sleep...
She immediately let out a long sigh, as if she was getting tired to play cat and mouse. Then she took off her skirt and boots – dropping them heavily on the floor. Wearing only her underskirt, stockings, corset and blouse, she headed towards the dressing table, moved a few objects, plunged her hands in the water as if to spray herself, before putting on the finishing touch: carefully lifting the side table near the window, she crossed the room and placed the piece of furniture on the bed. The whole structure immediately creaked, as if she had just slipped between the sheets. Brianna leaned on the mattress once or twice – so that the guard would think she was making herself comfortable – and held her breath. Five endless minutes went by, during which she barely breathed for fear of missing the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and she had to suppress a cry of triumph when he finally consented to go back downstairs.
She waited five more minutes, keeping all of her senses alert, before turning the doorknob to crack the door open. The hallway was clear; there was no sign of the guard or anyone else for that matter. Down the hall to her right, she could hear Jeremiah sucking his thumb as he fell asleep, but that was about it. Noiselessly, she started to go down the stairs with infinite care, avoiding the sixth step which tended to creak loudly.
The closer she got to the entrance hall, the more she heard the deep tones of a man's voice; upper class without doubt and definitely English. It was when the guest suddenly burst into laughter that she immediately recognized the annoying voice of the Governor himself. He sent me to my room because of Tryon? This was not the Governor's first visit in River Run. It could only mean one thing: Bonnet and Tryon had to discuss something they wanted to keep private, and Brianna immediately felt the adrenaline rush through her veins. She had to get closer and find out what they were talking about. Suddenly, there was a noise on her left, in the corridor that led to the kitchens, and she barely had time to get into a dark corner before her guard passed by, holding two glasses and a bottle of whiskey on a tray. As he opened the living room door with one hand and rushed inside, the young woman could overhear a few snippets of conversation.
"… next spring. I doubt they will receive the crates before that and they might be suspicious if we launch an assault at the same time", Tryon said as the guard served him a glass.
"Sure. And there will be other interesting events before that..."
Bonnet's voice was suave, a bit lewd even. Brianna frowned, wondering what he meant. There was undoubtedly a double meaning to his sentence, for Tryon chuckled, soon imitated by his partner.
"This night is a try-out before December 25th. It is imperative for us to make good money out of this… and sound out our audience. If it does not work in Wilmington, it will not work in New Bern either…"
"The audience of North Carolina might not be as receptive as in France, but once they get a taste of what we have to offer…", Stephen sneered.
"I did get a glimpse of Mr. Joyce's collection last week... I was already enthralled, and then he said he was keeping the best part for New Bern. Can you imagine?"
Both men laughed. Brianna was wondering what kind of collection they were talking about, when Stephen's voice rose again. "Close the door." There were footsteps, then the guard's massive hand fell on the handle to close the panel and Brianna found herself again deprived of light and sound. Cautiously, she got a little closer, walking through the shadows until she slipped behind a thick curtain. Bonnet and Tryon were definitely talking business, but without context, she couldn't understand a thing. She needed to know more.
"… -ervous?"
"I'd rather meet somewhere else. But you insisted…", Stephen growled before clearing his throat.
"I wanted to make sure you knew how to keep your wife in check... Did she complain when you confined her to your bedroom?"
"Barely. I have to say she is getting a little more... pliant every day."
The tone he had used made Brianna feel nauseous as she knew perfectly well what he was referring to. Bonnet's voice was so sweet and lustful that it left no room for imagination.
"As every good wife should be", Tryon said with a smug laugh.
"I like them best with a little more bite."
They laughed for a few seconds at this tasteful joke (by their own standards), until Tryon went on in a more confidential tone:
"Between you and me, my dear Bonnet, the only advantage of marriage is that we can legally do to our wives things that would send us to the gallows in other circumstances."
Motherfucker… This was too much for Brianna. Their sweet tone contrasted with the violence of their words and she no longer felt able to listen to them without screaming.
"Speaking of your wife… Guess who offered me to fight for the Crown against the Scottish rebels?"
There was a silence, during which Bonnet probably shrugged.
"Her father. Jamie Fraser himself almost begged me to join the ranks of our army. That giant fool thinks I don't know that he is looking for information about his daughter or my involvement in this whole thing… But I must admit that it is quite entertaining to see him betray his Scottish brothers… for nothing." Another silence. Tryon emptied his glass and put it back on the table. "I think I will ask him to wear a red coat, one of these days. A crushing humiliation for him, and an immeasurable delight for me."
Behind her curtain, Brianna clenched her teeth, her fists, her eyelids… She would definitely explode and throw herself at the governor's throat if she stayed there listening to them. The sound of a chair being pulled finally convinced her to leave, in case one of the three men inside the room decided to go out. Back in their room, she leaned over her dressing table, her fingernails digging into her palms and breathing heavily. She needed to calm down, make a mental list of everything she had learned during this conversation. Her father was looking for information. Two events were scheduled: one in Wilmington – probably the thing Bonnet had mentioned when she had begged him to go there – and another one in New Bern on December 25th. They were talking about something else when I arrived… Something that would happen next spring? But Brianna no longer knew if she had forgotten the information or if she had simply not heard it.
Another one of Stephen's sentences played on a loop in her brain, obscuring everything else and making her blood boil. She had let him take possession of her body for one night. One single night. She had played perfect wife for Jeremiah's sake... And here he was, claiming that she was becoming pliant. Truth be told, he had been far too happy to see her ceding ground. She had seen a flame in his eyes. By losing one battle, she had rekindled his sick fantasy of seducing her by any possible means. And if there was one thing that was hard to smother, it was the fire that burned within Stephen Bonnet – no matter what had started it.
About half an hour later, she was still fuming and pacing in front of her dressing table, when the bedroom door opened. Brianna glared at the mirror and noticed Stephen looked surprised to see her standing there half-dressed. But surprise very quickly gave way to the puckish expression he always wore when he played perfect gentleman with her. Soon she felt his hands grab her waist and Brianna closed her eyes, disgusted by the idea of feeling him inside her again, so quickly after his last assault and even more after what she had just heard. She tried to push him away and felt his fingers dig a little deeper into her flesh. Message received: he would never give her a moment's rest. He wouldn't stop until he had bent her to his will. Until she had lost all will to rebel.
There was a slight metallic hiss when Bonnet removed his knife from its scabbard to cut off the laces on her back, and Brianna suddenly remembered Phaedre's tears while she was mending the last dress he had torn up, on that night. The man did not seem to know how to remove a garment without ripping it apart. He destroys everything he touches…, Brianna thought as her blouse and corset hit the floor. Bonnet rested his knife on the dressing table, staring at her defiantly. His eyes were literally challenging her to take it, so that she would know what would happen to her if she was stupid enough to use it, but Brianna stood still. Without further ado, he released her from her undershirt, exposing her bare breasts in front of the mirror. Immediately, he covered them with his hands, squeezing and kneading, while pulling Brianna against him so that she felt his desire against her buttocks. Leaning into the crook of her neck, he bit the skin there, gushing over its softness and purity, which he had (according to him) "never seen in any other woman before her". He felt her shudder under his fingers, but nothing more. Silence means consent… as was Stephen Bonnet's motto when it came to quenching his thirst for flesh. Still stroking her with his eager hands, he then proceeded to pull her hips backwards and force her to lean over the dressing table.
Brianna found it increasingly difficult to stay calm and detached; he could feel it by the way her back heaved and fell to the rhythm of her erratic breathing. He was working on his breeches when she finally let out a threatening growl. "Stop that. Now..."
With a quick and firm motion, he wrapped one arm around her, his fingers tightening around her jaw while the tips of his index and middle fingers gently played with her lips. "Shhh, darlin'… remember what I said last time… it's up to you whether you want to make things harder or not, Brianna…"
The young woman closed her eyes, disgusted by the way her pretty name rolled on Bonnet's tongue. She took a deep breath through her nose, smelling the scent of cold tobacco. Probably a cigar he had smoked with Tryon earlier. Thinking about Tryon – and his way of insulting her father – only enraged Brianna a little more. She clenched her jaw, eagerly awaiting the moment when Stephen would divide his attention. As she wasn't moving, Bonnet's hand slowly left his wife's mouth. He wasn't quick enough, however, to avoid the young woman's teeth, biting his index finger. Hard.
Cursing loudly, Bonnet first tried to free his finger from the trap that had closed in on it, to no avail. With his other hand, he then spun Brianna around and grabbed her throat to suffocate her. She eventually opened her mouth before his fingers could do any damage to her windpipe and he immediately took a step back. His index finger was bleeding on both sides, where Bree's teeth had left small purple dashes.
"I thought you liked them best with a little more bite?", she spat with a cold smile. The expression she wore right now was in no way inferior to the cruelty she had witnessed on Bonnet's face years ago. And her evil smile widened as she thought that he was only reaping what he had sowed.
Stephen's eyes widened with fury, wandering from Brianna to the blade resting on the dressing table. She had brought out the demon. It was almost better that way, as the little number he pulled to North Carolina's high society literally made her sick. His green irises darkened as he realized she had overheard his conversation with Tryon and he became even more impressive, more terrifying, than a second earlier.
"There we are…", Brianna hissed between her teeth. "The beast is back, in all its glory... The real Stephen Bonnet."
He grabbed the back of her neck with his unharmed hand and brutally pulled her face to his. "Seems to make you happy..."
"Honestly? It does... This gentleman masquerade, it doesn't suit you at all… Makes me want to throw up…" Joining her thumb and forefinger as if she was grabbing a grimy rag, she pinched the collar of his waistcoat and winced. "All the finest clothes, all the money in the world, all the title deeds in North Carolina won't change that… I know who you are. You're the maggot inside the apple; the fleabag disguising as a King." She felt his fingers squeeze the back of her neck, but rather than scaring her, it made her want to hurt him even more. "You are the scumbag who beat me and raped me in a tavern. I didn't know someone could do so much harm in barely a minute, by the way. I guess that's one of your personal bests..."
"You better control your mouth, Brianna", the Irishman growled, undoing his breeches with his injured hand.
"Or what?" She let out a dry laugh, throwing her head back, before pressing her forehead against his. "You're going to rape me?" She raised her eyebrows, as if that threat didn't scare her anymore. It wouldn't be the first time, after all... and probably not the last. He pulled her petticoat up over her thighs and was about to penetrate her when she grabbed his face with both hands and whispered against his ear – her voice dripping with sarcasm: "By all means, my love… Do it. Help me remember every day who… you… are."
Each and every one of Bonnet's muscles tensed at the last three words and as she pulled away, Brianna saw in his emerald eyes the same pain as when he had mentioned is fear of drowning. She had hit a nerve: his desire to change was only matched by his fear of being unable to do so. And now, he would give free rein to his fury; he would take her violently and prove her right.
Seconds passed, as quickly as the panel of emotions in the pirate's gaze: doubt, fear, excitement, anger, fascination… and Brianna prepared to pay the price for her act of rebellion. But he still wasn't moving.
"What are you waiting for?", she barked, her eyes widening with anger. She felt he was doing everything he could to control himself, for the sheer pleasure of making her lie and proving her wrong. But she was not wrong. He was and would always be the worst louse in her private hell. And it was that immutable fact that kept her from losing her mind in the insane dollhouse that was now River Run. Bonnet didn't answer and let her go to pull up his breeches – with a now neutral and indecipherable expression.
"No…", Brianna breathed, feeling sick. He couldn't prove her wrong, not now, not like this. She pushed him brutally, her face distorted by hatred. "You won't get away with this. You are a monster. Act like one."
But all anger had definitely left Bonnet's eyes and he let her mistreat him like a dropped puppet, undisturbed. "It is time for you to accept the new me…", he said simply as he walked over to his closet, probably to put on a shirt for the night.
Brianna laughed sarcastically, but couldn't stand the sight of him turning his back on her. She grabbed the knife on the dressing table and swept her arm in front of her, feeling a slight resistance as the tip hit its target. A slash a few inches long was now visible in Stephen's sleeve, gradually dying red with his blood. He looked down at the wound, disconcertingly slowly, before walking towards Brianna again.
"Come on... make me pay, I know that's all you want..."
She could hear her own voice coming out of her throat, without recognizing it. She sounded just like the snake from the Garden of Eden persuading Eve to eat an apple. But surprisingly enough, Bonnet delicately took the blade from her hand and put it back on the dressing table. Brianna was so dejected by this new failure that tears immediately filled her eyes. "If I didn't know you better, my love, I'd think that's all you want…", he whispered, using her own words to mock her.
"So that I can keep on hating you..."
"Why? Are you scared of forgetting your hatred in favor of something else?" He grabbed Brianna's hips to pull her against him.
"Not even in your wildest dreams", she replied harshly.
He traced his hands up her waist, until his thumbs brushed the delicate skin of her breasts. The anger and the ambient coolness in the room had made them stiff and he had to resist the urge to press himself against her.
"You are nothing if you don't hate me... And you are terrified to discover who you could be if I became the sweetest of husbands..." As he punctuated his sentences with kisses along her left shoulder, Brianna's skin covered in goosebumps.
"Stop…"
"See? I too can say things that hurt…", he whispered against her ear.
She pushed him back and slapped him violently, hoping he would retaliate. But once again, he didn't. Even better: he gave her a smug smile and she felt her last mental barriers break down. "What the hell are you waiting for?!", she yelled, her eyes full of tears.
A second slap caught him on his left cheek and instead of losing his temper, he blocked her arm and drew her gently to him. Brianna let out a sob. He had got over his anger and she knew she had just lost another battle when Bonnet's lips brushed hers, as softly as the wings of a butterfly. Desperate, Brianna tried her best to provoke but he held on, responding to every attack with more gentleness, more chaste kisses. She was ready to crack up, on the verge of hysterics, and she began to struggle – scratching, biting, hitting the Irishman's body with her fists and knees. But the more she beat him, the tighter he hugged her and any movement was soon impossible. Brianna thus used her last bodily function available and let out a long, heart-wrenching cry as she burst into tears, her forehead resting against Bonnet's shoulder.
As he slightly loosened his grip, his arms – like two dangerous pythons – slipped around her back: one hand going up behind her neck, and the other down to the small of her back. This embrace disgusted her, but it also had the surprising effect of calming her down and Brianna slowly regained control of her breathing.
"Do you want me to go back to my old self?", he whispered into the crook of her neck. Squeezing her eyelids shut, Brianna nodded. He pulled away from her, just enough to look her straight in the eye, and shook his head. "That will never happen."
"You won't be able to play nice forever, it's just not in your nature…", she snorted.
"Maybe…" He smirked, pushing back a red lock that was stuck to her damp cheek. "It's a good thing I have you here… every day… to remind me why I am doing all this."
Brianna's lower lip began to tremble. If he got his daily dose of motivation just by laying eyes on her when he woke up, then there was no hope left for her. He would never slide back into violence as long as she was at his mercy. No one would ever see who he really was and she couldn't leave him without losing Jemmy forever. It was a vicious cycle, a never-ending story. Or rather a never happy-ending story.
Suddenly, Stephen took a step back. The warmth of his body disappeared and Brianna shivered, crossing her arms over her breasts to hide them. Not that she still had any modesty in front of him, but after being pushed to the limit like that, she felt vulnerable. Naked in every sense of the word. And ashamed.
"You should go and sleep with Jeremiah tonight… You could use a little rest. And while you're at it, think about your situation…" He leaned towards her and without touching any other part of her body, he placed an innocent kiss on her forehead. "What you could win... Or lose…" Then, bending down to grab her dressing gown from the back of the chair, he handed it to her. "And when we leave for Wilmington, I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Bonnet will undoubtedly be happy and very much in love again."
Brianna didn't answer. Clenching her teeth and wrinkling her nose, she snatched the dressing gown from Stephen's fingers and rushed for the exit.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
What did you think of Brianna freaking out like this? And of Stephen's reaction? He tries to hold on to his fantasy of the perfect family, but he knows deep down that it can't go on forever...
In the next chapter, Brianna goes out of River Run for the first time as Mrs. Bonnet! And she might try to communicate with her family... But will it work? You will find out in three weeks! Until then, I look forward to reading your comments. Have a lovely April!
Xérès