Will You Teach Me…?
Okay, I hope you are ready because the next three chapters are going to be a real emotional rollercoaster. We will start on a sensual note, in line with the end of the previous chapter, before moving on to the drama. Beware, there might be a cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. Hahaha.
Thanks to Rath101, SirenWolf28, Godblesslaci, emilou12 and LykkeF for the reviews, as well as Colinodonewithyou for hitting the follow/fav button!
Rath101: ahahahahahah yeah Brianna is still digging and there might be some kind of explosion in the next chapter (but a rather pleasant one…. Good for her, lololol). But she's not ready for what's coming in chapter 16 (and neither are you). Thanks for the comment!
SirenWolf28: thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Godblesslaci: ahahah be patient, darlin'. You'll get what you want. ;)
Emilou12: Thank you so much! I hope I won't disappoint with this chapter!
LykkeF: what better day for an orgy than Christmas? I mean… Isn't that the day we're supposed to share things? Love, food, …. spouses… lololol But Stephen isn't the kind of man who likes to share… as you'll see below in a few minutes…
~o~
15. The Wanderer
February 1974.
Staring at the pale moonlight filtering through the half-open curtains, Brianna listened to Stephen's slow and steady breathing – envying her husband's ability to fall asleep as soon as his marital duty was accomplished. Every now and then, she felt him fidgeting, closing his fingers around her breast or exhaling on her bare shoulders. These small movements did not even wake her up anymore; they were therefore not the cause of her insomnia. No, what was keeping her awake was far more personal…
Her husband's behavior had changed since that fateful kiss, on that memorable night of December twenty-fifth. Stephen Bonnet knew perfectly well the difference between a stolen kiss on coerced lips and a (con-)sensual kiss – and this one had left no room for doubt, flattering his already outsize ego. Brianna had been expecting him to brag about it for weeks, but he had never mentioned it again. On the other hand, his caresses and solicitations had become bolder and more intimate, but also so much softer that Brianna could not help but flinch every time one of his fingers touched a sensitive part of her body. These twitches were nothing like those she experienced during their first weeks together when she was still reluctant to any physical contact between them… and he had felt it.
As if the pirate's sleeping brain had picked up her thoughts, he stirred in his sleep and his hand slid down her waist to her pelvis, the tip of his middle finger brushing past her pubis.
…an irrepressible need to possess you…
Bree's left leg twitched and a shiver ran through her from head to toe. She had realized it since their return from New Bern: Stephen's words had troubled her, enough to be etched in her mind. It had taken her nights of self-psychoanalysis to figure out why, and several more to accept her conclusion.
She had always blamed Roger for putting her on a pedestal. This had almost destroyed their love story at the Scottish festival when he had started an argument just because she would not marry him after only two days of romance. Because she mentioned that she would hypothetically date other men if things did not work between them. Brianna had not appreciated being scolded like a teenager and insulted for something she had not even done yet and might never even happen. But she had wiped a clean slate (something she would do quite often with Roger) and given each other a second chance. A chance that he had almost ruined when hearing about her rape and pregnancy... And even if he had come back and married her, the way he looked at her had changed. She was 'damaged goods'; she would never be pure again in his eyes, and she had suffered from it. In silence.
Stephen had brutalized her, defiled her, had taken control of her body and her mind without even caring about the trauma he would leave behind. Years later, he had come back for her but far from considering her as impure, she remained as beautiful and perfect in his eyes as she was on Day One. No matter what she had been through, no matter how she behaved, the way he looked at her never changed. Until a few months ago, she thought this was a bad thing, but today… she was not so sure anymore.
Brianna was perfectly aware of that paradox: she liked being a priceless gem in the eyes of the man she hated, but she hated that the man she loved wanted her to be pure as a diamond! There was no logic in all this; just a plain, unexplainable feeling.
Still, with the recent authenticity and sweetness of their interactions combined with the absence of other dreadful social events, River Run (and Brianna) had entered a comfortable and reassuring routine. She still felt guilty about enjoying this welcome respite… But the more Stephen believed she was seduced, the more freedom and trust he would grant her.
Two months later, however, she had to face the facts: she wasn't exactly freer – quite the contrary, since Bonnet now seemed much more interested in staying at home than going about his various occupations – and the sex, that had once been a source of distress and disgust, became more and more… normal. Pleasant, even, on occasions.
Every time she tried something to turn the situation to her advantage, the trap closed a little more around her. Bonnet thwarted each and every one of her plans – sometimes even unintentionally – or something happened and brought them closer together instead of bringing them apart. Her fake miscarriage was a blatant example of this. She had terminated her pregnancy to avoid being permanently trapped with Bonnet… but they had been more intimate than ever since that day. Both psychologically and physically – when she took out her anger on him and he retaliated by cuddling her, or when they had sex. And especially since he allowed her to be honest and authentic in his presence alone.
Stephen thrashed behind her again, more violently this time, and she turned around to have a look at him. Months ago, after he had told her about his nightmares, she had taken a malicious delight in watching him squirm, sweat, and wince while picturing him drowning in dark, grey waters. Then she had gone through a phase of weariness, annoyed when his erratic movements woke her up almost every night. But these past few weeks, she had found herself waiting impatiently for Bonnet's eyelids to open, revealing two frightened eyes frantically scanning the surroundings... before they landed on her. Just as the distress she read in Jemmy's eyes vanished the second she crossed the threshold of his room to comfort him, Bonnet displayed deep relief or a burning desire as soon as he saw her questioning gaze, parted lips, or a bare shoulder under the bed sheets. And she did her best to react in the most perfect way: with a soft reassuring smile, a cool hand on his wet forehead, fingers delicately pushing back his blonde hair behind his ears. It did not matter if they had spent the previous day fighting or pretending, as long as she was there to reassure him at that exact moment when he was most vulnerable.
However, Bonnet did not wake up that night and it was not until much later that Brianna fell asleep as well. She was sleeping so soundly that the sun had already been up for a while when she opened her eyes again, in a cold and empty bed. Considering the racket it made at the slightest sudden movement, that could only mean one thing: Stephen had been very careful to get out of the covers, get dressed, and leave the room without waking her. A few months ago, she would have suspected a meeting with a partner in crime he did not want her to know about, but not anymore. Since her pregnancy and its fateful end, he had often let her sleep to her heart's content, even if it meant having breakfast alone in the dining room. Something he wouldn't have tolerated before last November...
After putting on a simple skirt, blouse, and belt, Brianna walked up the second floor's corridor. Jem's room was empty, so she peeked out the window: her son was already outside, running after his dog under Hennessy's close surveillance. Reassured, she went down to the kitchens, where Phaedre gave her a cup of tea and some pastries to share. That kind of morning was definitely Brianna's favorite: no husband, a nice conversation with a friend, and a hearty breakfast, while her son was having fun in the great outdoors. Both young women had just swallowed one last scone with jam when Happy burst into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, looking as friendly as usual. Phaedre immediately jumped out of her chair to clear the table and as Hennessy drank his glass in one gulp, Brianna frowned.
"Wait a minute. If he's here, who's watching Jeremiah?", she asked, casting a worried look at Phaedre. The question was meant for the butler, but since he never talked to her, she did not really expect any explanation from him. Phaedre shrugged but, to their surprise, a groan escaped Hennessy's mouth.
"One of the footmen is watching over him."
Brianna twisted her neck to look at him, her eyebrows almost disappearing in her hairline.
"What is this? What do I hear? Did you...? Yes, you did speak to me!", she taunted, while Hennessy pointedly rolled his eyes.
The man put his glass down on one of the kitchen counters. "Orders have changed."
Interesting…, Bree thought, her eyes shining. She could have stopped there, but the temptation to tickle her mute butler was too strong. "That's marvelous! The prisoner is finally allowed to chat with her jailer… What are we going to do now? Shall we have a drink, do our nails, and tell each other some dirty little secrets?"
Near her bucket of clear water where she was rinsing dishes, Phaedre giggled as Brianna smiled at Hennessy, who remained unmoved. "Be careful what you say, Madam. I would hate to have to tell Mr. Bonnet about your insolence."
"Oh, of course... Where is he, by the way? My dear, sweet husband... the apple of my eye... sunshine of my life...?"
This time, Phaedre let out a high-pitched chuckle, earning a murderous look from Hennessy who answered anyway. "A potential buyer came to visit the western parts of the land…"
He did not have time to finish his sentence. The kitchen door had just swung open and Jeremiah appeared, tears streaming down his crimson cheeks and closely followed by the footman. Holding one of his arms against him, the child ran straight towards Brianna, whose smile instantly fell.
"What is it, Jem? Are you hurt?"
The child did not answer, frantically sucking on his thumb, his face buried in his mother's skirts. She and Hennessy looked up at the footman questioningly, but the butler probably looked more threatening than she did, because the young man turned pale and took a step back.
"I don't know what happened, Madam. He wanted to play hide and seek and as I was trying to find him… he came out of the stables, crying his eyes out."
Brianna slowly moved away from Jeremiah to squat and look at him, her eyes scanning every inch of the child in search of a detail, a bruise, a bump, or anything that could tell her what was going on. That's when she spotted a red mark on his wrist, just below his sleeve.
"Can I have a look at your arm, Jem?", she asked, taking his wrist between her fingers. Brianna felt the arm very carefully, but nothing seemed broken and Jeremiah did not flinch. She then slightly moved his hand, and let out a sigh of relief. "I'm going to roll up your sleeve, all right?" It was now time to investigate this redness...
Her heart pounding, she opened the two small cufflinks on Jeremiah's wrist and rolled up the fabric to the elbow, suppressing a surprised gasp. There, on Jeremiah's pale skin, was imprinted the characteristic shape of five fingers and a palm all around his frail arm. Someone had obviously grabbed the child violently. But who? And why? Brianna made a mental list of potential culprits and their motives. Stephen? No, in spite of all her grievances against the Irishman, she knew deep down that he would never raise a hand against Jemmy. Not without an excellent reason (like to prevent him from getting hurt or something) and above all, he would have brought the child home himself. Hennessy was with her and Phaedre in the kitchen, and the servants would never have done such a thing, as they knew full well they would lose their job (or a limb) if they touched a single hair on Jeremiah Bonnet's head.
Her son was in the stable. Perhaps the groom had grabbed him a little too hard to save him from an angry horse? But then, why hadn't he brought the child back home and explained the situation? No, none of the people who lived in River Run could be responsible. It could only mean one thing: an intruder had entered the stable, someone who had wanted to take Jeremiah away against his will. Brianna stood up and headed straight for the back door.
"I'm going to the stables, maybe someone there will be able to explain what happened..."
"I'll go get Mr. Bonnet...", Hennessy retorted, but Brianna had already left the room and did not hear him.
Running across the yard, she rushed into the stables — which were empty except for the horses in their stalls. The animals seemed a little nervous and she approached the first horse to put a soothing hand on his muzzle.
"Is there anyone there?", she called, squinting in the darkness. A horse snorted and she suddenly started to panic, as a gloomy shiver ran down her spine. She had rushed here thinking she would find a member of her family, which would explain Jemmy's attempted kidnapping, but she wasn't so sure anymore. Abandoning the horse, she took a few steps into the stable, her heart racing, when a dark figure suddenly jumped from a stall and clasped his dirty hand on her mouth. Brianna let out a muffled cry – while her assailant's arm grabbed her waist – and thrashed around like a madwoman... until the stranger's voice rose, and a strong Scottish accent echoed in the stables.
"Fur God's sake, Brianna, it's me!"
The young woman stopped moving and turned her questioning eyes towards the intruder, soon identifying Roger's features despite the shaggy beard darkening his face. Her ex-husband had lost weight, looked like he'd been wearing the same clothes for a whole month, and probably had not seen a comb for as many days. The grimy hand left her mouth and she took a step back to get a better view of the Scotsman. "Roger? What are you doing here?"
"I came tae get ye!"
Brianna blinked several times, torn between relief — that Roger had not abandoned her in the eighteenth century — and anger. Not only because this attempted rescue mission was totally stupid, but also because Jemmy seemed more traumatized than anything. Roger suddenly lunged forward, but she backed away again out of his reach.
"Was that you? Did you hurt Jeremiah's arm?", she spat angrily.
Roger groaned and rolled his eyes. "He didnae recognize me, I tried tae take him tae safety but he kicked me..."
"If you jumped on him from behind without any warning, like you just did to me, I can't blame him!", she hissed, while Roger glared at her. "He hasn't seen you in ages and you're unrecognizable... What did you expect?"
Roger did not answer and looked around nervously before grabbing her arm. "We have nae time tae lose, we must go…"
"What about Jem? He's inside the house and with the jitters he got, I doubt he'll come out anytime soon..."
"I'll come back fur him another day. For noo, we have tae get ye tae the stone circle and-"
"No way!" She freed herself from Roger's grip and gave him a venomous look. "Didn't you learn your lesson at the trial? I. Will not. Give up. My son. I will leave with him or I won't leave at all. End of discussion."
"Christ, ye and Jamie make quite a pair… He wants tae go through the legal path too, saving ye both at the same time… But it's been seven months, Brianna, and we're still at square one!"
Silence fell in the stable as the ex-spouses glared at each other. Brianna crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "You left the Ridge, didn't you? That's why you look like a wanderer. You thought you could just show up here, even if that could make matters worse… and my father did not agree. Is that right, Roger?" As he remained silent, she shook her head. "Do you have any idea of all the things I have to do so that my daily life isn't a living hell? Do you imagine how fragile the balance between danger and safety is in this house? And you… you turn up just like that… Putting Jeremiah at risk? Putting me at risk? And you dare… you DARE to ask me once again to follow you and abandon my baby?"
She saw Roger's nostrils flare; he did not like being lectured like that, especially when he knew he was wrong. Unable to find words, he grabbed Brianna's arm again and pulled her towards the exit.
"Let go of me... Let go of me, you selfish prick!", she growled, digging her fingernails into every inch of accessible skin. But Roger did not seem to feel the pain and kept dragging her on the damp straw covering the ground. After a harder punch on his nose, he immobilized Bree's second arm and pulled her against him to subdue her.
"Goddammit, Bree, stop that nonsense. Ye'll get us caught!"
The stable doors swung open, flooding the stalls with light and causing them both to squint. Stephen, Hennessy, and two men usually posted at the gates entered the building and despite the backlight, Brianna could perfectly see Bonnet's facial features. He was furious, obviously, but there was also a hint of pure disappointment and sadness in his eyes, and for a second Brianna wondered what was causing it. Until… it hit her.
Looking down, she became aware of the position she was in: trapped in Roger's arms, in a dark building, her cheeks most certainly pink from their heated conversation. But if Stephen had heard nothing of their argument, the picture he had in front of him could be interpreted in a very different way. At the sight of Bonnet and his minions, Roger instinctively let go and Bree pulled away from him with a pleading look at Stephen. "This is not what you th-"
"Seize him", the Irishman interrupted abruptly, nodding at Roger.
The Scot whirled around to run away through the back door, but one of the henchmen drew a flintlock pistol and pointed it at his skull, forcing Roger to give up on any attempt to escape while his sidekick twisted both his arms behind his back. Sensing the danger of the moment, Brianna rushed over to Stephen. "Wait, let me explain…"
Stephen's hand grabbed her right arm and pulled her violently to him. "Explain what, exactly? That this is all just a misunderstandin'? That MacKenzie is not standin' in my stables, on my property, with his hands on my wife? After hurtin' my son?" His voice grew hoarser and more threatening with each new possessive pronoun and Brianna found herself panicking. "Does he come here often?", he hissed, bringing his face closer to hers. As she stared at him in amazement, he shook her slightly and repeated, a little louder: "How many times did he come to visit, Brianna?"
"Never!", she yelled, shaking her head. "I... I didn't even know he was there when I walked in..."
"Balderdash…" With a growl of annoyance, he pushed her away, focusing on his men who were now gagging and tying up Roger like some big roast beef.
"I'm telling the truth! This is the first time I've seen him since the trial!" As Stephen still refused to look at her, she grabbed his face with both hands and forced his gaze into hers. "Stephen-"
"What was the plan, huh? Runnin' away with me son?... No... He does not give a damn about Jeremiah…", he added contemptuously. Another flash of sadness crossed his eyes, and in other circumstances – if a man was not pointing his gun at Roger's head – Bree would have been touched. "No, he's here for you… God knows I can't blame him."
"Sir…?", Hennessy asked with a questioning look at Stephen. The Irishman's eyes went from his butler to the gun his henchman was still holding, then back to Brianna. Gently grabbing his wife's hands, he tore them away from his face and before she could react, snatched the gun from his man's hands and stuck the barrel to Roger's temple. The Scot tensed under the ropes that kept him tied.
"Don't!", Brianna implored, holding out her hands. The pirate's cold irises landed on her.
"Why?"
"If you kill him... I'll never forgive you."
Stephen's hand twitched around the butt. "You still love him…"
Brianna shook her head and moved closer to him again, putting her hands on his chest and not giving Roger a single glance. "No. He lost my love the day he wanted me to abandon Jemmy…", she breathed, her eyes watering, but the pirate did not seem the least bit impressed. "Believe me, you have been much more of a father to him these last few months than Roger has ever been in three years…"
Roger could not believe his eyes and ears and he was staring at Brianna in such disbelief and anger that it was better for her not to see his face. The young woman played her role perfectly, mixing truths and persuasive lies; she had to if she wanted to save her skin, but also Roger's... and preserve the hard-earned quietude of these last weeks. Trembling, she raised a hand to caress the pirate's cheek tenderly.
"But whatever my feelings for him today, he was dear to me once. He's part of my family, whether you like it or not. So please, don't kill him."
Stephen stared at her in silence. Nothing moved except his chest, rising and falling regularly with each breath. Brianna pressed her body against his, begging him, reassuring him, and punctuating her sweet words with caresses. She tried not to look too relieved when she saw him lower his gun. With a delicate and cautious hand, she grabbed the pistol and immediately felt Bonnet tense. He must have expected her to try and turn the gun on him, but Brianna had no intention of doing so. She wasn't that stupid. Slowly, she disarmed him and placed the pistol near a stall to her right before returning to the Irishman, without a single glance at Roger.
"He never touched me, I swear... I wouldn't let him", she whispered against Stephen's lips. "He wanted to abandon Jemmy again…"
The green irises briefly glared at Roger, his filthy outfit, his shaggy demeanor… Nothing suggested this encounter was actually a lovers' tryst, but rather MacKenzie's attempt to retrieve what he had been stupid enough to lose.
"Handling things with violence… was the old Stephen Bonnet's way", she whispered pleadingly. As always when the subject of his transformation came up, Brianna knew she had caught his attention. "I know you don't want to be that man anymore. Let Roger go, he's learned his lesson."
About ten centimeters above her, her husband narrowed his eyes as he did every time he was assessing her honesty. But Bree was getting good at this game now and she suppressed a sigh of relief when he took a step back. Did he really believe her or was he just pretending to give in? She did not know. Placing both hands on his chest, Brianna smiled flirtatiously at him and pushed him towards the exit. But at this exact moment, Roger managed to expel the handkerchief stuffed between his teeth.
"What d'ye think ye're doing, Brianna? Have ye gone bonkers?"
It took less than half a second for the young woman to turn around and slap Roger's cheek with all her might. To silence him mostly, because opening his big mouth was not the best method to convince Bonnet to spare him. But also…
"Don't ever... call me crazy", she growled, while all the other men around them exchanged snide looks. You have no idea what I had to do…, she added in her head. Turning away from the Scotsman, she went back to Stephen. The latter had narrowed his eyes and was staring at Roger with an imperceptible smile, his scar barely quivering. What else is he up to? Willing to get him as far away from Roger as possible, she grabbed Stephen's arm. "Come on, these gentlemen will walk him out."
"Go ahead, I'll be right behind you..."
Brianna gulped. He had spoken gently, far too gently, and she feared for a moment that he was only sending her out to spare her the sight of a bullet going through her ex-husband's skull. But he must have sensed her fear, for he immediately added:
"Fear not, darlin', I just want to have a word with Mr. Hennessy."
The butler stiffened somewhat, unsure if Bonnet was going to hold him responsible for the incident, or if he actually had instructions to give him – and Brianna internally sneered. She was not the only one to walk on eggshells with Stephen Bonnet in this house. Her guts churning, she nodded and slowly walked out of the stable, expecting to hear a gunshot at any moment. But after less than a minute, Bonnet walked out as well – his men still dragging Roger with them – and she suppressed a cry of relief.
"I have to finish showin' the land to me buyer... I won't be back before mid-afternoon", he smiled, a little too happy for this situation.
Brianna cast a worried glance at his minions, who were still restraining Roger. "Promise me nothing will happen to him."
The Irishman chuckled, his mischievous gaze flicking briefly towards his rival before resting on her. "I'm not sayin' that he won't take a few well-placed blows on his way out…", he quipped, stroking his wife's chin, "but we're not plannin' to have him 'attacked by savages', if that is your question." The hint about how he had covered up Forbes' murder was not even subtle, but Brianna did not comment. "I would love to find a way to hurt him without hurtin' you in the process… but I'm afraid that's impossible."
He smirked at her again and Bree chose to smile back before placing a quick kiss on the corner of his lips. Behind them, Roger cursed loudly at the sight and she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. You idiot, did you really think that after all this time I would still be screaming in terror at every physical contact? She was way past that. But the Scot seemed to think that she had spent all these months just staying there, whimpering and waiting for Prince Charming to come and rescue her...
"Will you be all right if I leave you alone? I mean... Mr. Hennessy will be with you, of course."
Like Saint Roch and his dog…, she thought before nodding. "Everything will be alright. I should get back to Jeremiah. He got really scared…"
Stephen's features hardened slightly at those words and he nodded before riding his horse back to his guest. When Bree went back to the house with Hennessy, the footman who had escorted Jeremiah was waiting for them with a pang of anguish.
"Miss Phaedre is upstairs with Jeremiah, Madam... He's a bit shaken, but hopefully more frightened than hurt...", the footman stammered, fiddling nervously with one of his cufflinks. "I... I'm not getting fired, am I?"
Brianna opened her mouth, glancing at Hennessy – who seemed ready to answer that it was indeed a possibility – and shook her head with a reassuring smile. "Absolutely not. Nothing that happened is your fault."
The footman's relief was palpable and she gave him a final encouraging nod before heading for the stairs, Hennessy standing on the landing as usual. In his bedroom, Jeremiah was curled up on his bed, his hand clutching Stephen's neckerchief. When she saw her, Phaedre – who had been stroking Jem's hair – stood up cautiously.
"He fell asleep…", she whispered as Brianna lay down on the bed next to him. "What was in the stable?"
Bree frowned, a sudden urge to cry causing her nose to sting. Now that the adrenaline was slowly leaving her bloodstream, other emotions were taking over. "Roger…", she said simply and Phaedre clasped a hand over her mouth. "Jeremiah didn't recognize him and put up a fight. He tried to convince me to run away with him again…"
"But… Jeremiah was inside…", said Phaedre, noticing Bree's darkening eyes. "He wanted you to leave without him?!"
"Are you really surprised…?" The servant did not answer and Brianna rested her head on the pillow, her fingers gently stroking her son's blonde hair. "If only Jeremiah had recognized him, we could have…" She stopped mid-sentence. Even if the child had known it was Roger, the options were still limited.
"You would have had to flee, leave the grounds while avoiding the guards, travel for days… and for what, exactly? Getting caught by Lord Tryon's soldiers and losing your son? With all due respect to Mr. MacKenzie, Madam, what he did was stupid", the girl said vehemently. "He could have put you in a more precarious situation. More than it already is."
Brianna did not bother to answer. She already knew all that and that was precisely why she had yelled at Roger in the stables. Wincing, she curled up around her son's small body, and understanding that she needed to be alone, Phaedre slipped away. Bree closed her eyes, shutting herself in a quiet cocoon of darkness and silence, and only realized she had dozed off when a small hand moistened with saliva landed on her cheek, waking her with a start. Pleased to see her open her eyes, Jeremiah pulled his hand away and immediately put his thumb and neckerchief back in his mouth. How long had she slept? Judging by the incredibly long time it took her to come out of sleep, it had probably been several hours.
"How are you feeling, Jem?", she muttered, sitting up on the mattress.
"Fine... We sleeped a looooong time!"
Bree smiled. She considered telling him the truth about the incident: explain to him that he should not have been afraid, that the man in the stables was not a stranger and meant no harm... But then, as she was about to speak, Hennessy's head appeared through the half-open door.
"Mr. Bonnet is back, Madam."
"Daddyyyyyyyyy!", Jeremiah immediately yelled as he jumped out of bed and rushed down the corridor. Bree ran a weary hand over her face, muttering a "Great" that did not fall on deaf ears.
"Is there a problem, Madam?", Hennessy asked coldly.
The young woman stood up, smoothing down her dress with an annoyed look. "A problem? Please, I could give you a list…"
The butler glanced at her sarcastically and followed Jeremiah, who was already running down the stairs, his right hand gliding on the balusters. Bree appeared at the top of the stairs just as a smiling Stephen lifted her son off the ground.
"Well, son? How's your arm? Do you need to see a doctor?"
Jeremiah shook his head with the cutest of smiles. "I don't hurt anymore. Is the bad man gone?"
"Yes, he is. Daddy got rid of him...", he answered, glancing at Brianna, "...with dignity and decorum, of course."
"Does it mean you kick'd his arse?"
"Yes, that's exactly what it means", Bonnet added before noticing Brianna's furious face. "…But I chose to be a tad more polite."
"Is he all right?", Brianna asked, her voice unfortunately too low and covered by Jeremiah's.
"Can I have some cake like when I fall?"
Stephen chuckled. Phaedre always comforted the boy with a big piece of pie when he scratched his knees or hands as he played, and suspected that he sometimes intentionally hurt himself to have a delicious treat.
"Oh, you surely have your head screwed on right… Phaedre gives you cake when you're in pain. And I thought your arm wasn't hurtin' anymore…"
"Just a little bit", Jeremiah lied, rubbing his arm.
"Is he all right, Stephen?" Brianna had raised her voice, as he was obviously begging her question. The Irishman looked at her and his face hardened.
"The more you ask, the more I regret it… Yes, he is doin' fine."
Brianna took a deep breath and nodded.
"What did the man want?"
Again, Bree felt the urge to tell him the truth, but besides the trouble it might cause her with Stephen, reminding Jemmy of his other life, his other father – who seemed now out of his mind – would only confuse him more. She was about to answer vaguely or with a simple 'I don't know', when Stephen spoke up.
"What do you think about your mother, Jeremiah? She is very beautiful, isn't she?"
The little boy nodded, smiling broadly. "Most beautiful Mommy in de world."
"That's true. Daddy also thinks she is...", the Irishman agreed with a smirk. Before he went on frostily: "The problem is… daddy is not the only one."
Bree opened her mouth, outraged by his almost accusatory remarks. She was in no way responsible for Roger's nonsense, let alone being caught in his arms when she had pushed him away repeatedly. "Could we not have this conversation in front of Jeremiah?"
Stephen's jaw tensed slightly, but he had the same eerie glint in his eyes as when they had left the stables. "You're right... Go see Mr. Fitzpatrick in the kitchen, he'll give you a slice of pie", he added to Jeremiah, who scampered off as soon as his two feet touched the ground. Without another word, Stephen headed for the stairs, and if Brianna had immediately spun around to follow him, she would have seen the brief, knowing nod he gave to Hennessy. But she did not. Instead, she listened as his heavy riding boots climbed each step of the staircase until their bedroom door slammed shut. And it was only after a deep – very deep – breath… that she decided to follow him.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Hmm, it seems that Stephen's declaration has somewhat aroused our dear Brianna, hahahaha.
Let's get to the point: Roger. Normally, at this stage, reading his first name should make you want to destroy some walls with a sledgehammer, and if that's not the case, I've failed in my mission. But what do you think Stephen did with him? He's planning some bad trick, obviously, but what? What are your theories?
The next chapter will be released on September 4th and I strongly advise you to turn a fan on, pour yourself a cold drink or dip in the pool if you have one because chapter 16 is gonna be very… very hot. I look forward to reading your comments and I wish you a wonderful vacation!
Xérès