Will You Teach Me…?

No you're not dreaming, there are TWO chapters today: chapter 34 and the epilogue. So this is THE END, my friends. The end of this second long fiction on Stephen and Brianna, but not the end of my writing, I still have several things to publish and write, so I hope you will stay with me to discover them in the next weeks/months!

Thanks Rath101 for your review!

Rath101: okay please remain calm… who am I kidding, no this chapter will be an absolute disaster and you will scream and cry and freak out. Sorry about this. But the epilogue right after that will help you heal, I promise, so don't forget to read it after you murder me in your comment about chapter 4 ahahahah. And don't forget you're my favorite English-speaking reader on ffnet. If… that's any consolation. Lol. Hum… now, enjoy the- no, I can't say that. I hope this chapter will be… I don't know how to finish this sentence, sorry. Lol. But thank you for your long support and for commenting and reading all of my chapters, you're a doll, thank you so much.

oOo

34. And The Tide Rushes In

Sitting with Jeremiah in the nursery in Fergus and Marsali's house – where she had been locked up for weeks – Brianna could hear the ruckus of the mob coming from the streets. Since the crimes of William Tryon and his underling Stephen Bonnet had been revealed to the general public, a crowd of angry citizens had invaded New Bern and established their base camp outside the Courthouse where both men had been on trial for three days now. The trial – more than embarrassing for the Crown – was held behind closed doors, so that no one (besides the criminals' close circles, who received information from their lawyers) had the slightest idea of what was going on inside. Or what was taking so long.

After fainting in the middle of her dining room in River Run, Brianna had spent the following few weeks in a daze. A strange state of relief from being with her family mixed with anger, because they had ignored her wishes. Her parents had been surprised to hear that she ignored the army would take over River Run. They had passed the message in the last book they had sent and that had arrived one day before the attack, but Brianna had pretended that she never had time to decipher the message to hide the fact that the only book she had actually received was Hamlet and the others had probably been burnt by Hennessy. Like last September's book. The one that had started this whole fucking mess.

And then the anger had turned into rage when she had mentioned her letter sent in January. Her parents had also seemed genuinely surprised by the letter's existence, but Roger's face, on the other hand, had betrayed him. A quivering corner of the mouth, a fleeting smirk that had hit Brianna as hard as a truck driving at full speed. And she had understood.

This simple, tiny expression had caused her to fly into a fury of which she barely remembered anything. Flashes of her swooping on Roger with all claws out, without any explanation, knocking him to the ground before straddling him, punching and scratching every bit of his body within her reach. Someone had separated them; another voice had made a worried comment about her sanity. And then they had her locked up.

She had not been allowed to see Stephen since his arrest in their own dining room. This separation at this stage of their relationship caused the most unbearable pain in her body, and it was probably the same for Jeremiah who spent most of his days sobbing against her. But not because of the Frasers. Orders had been given to keep the families away in order to protect them. Margaret had been elevated to the status of heroine of the Colony, the one through whom the scandal had been revealed, while Brianna was said to be a victim, held against her will by Stephen Bonnet and now recovering from her trauma with her family and her child.

Jamie and Claire had also convinced themselves that her current behavior was only the aftermath of being freed from Bonnet and out of the four walls of River Run. On one evening, Jamie too had almost come to blows with Roger, when the latter swore that Brianna was in love with the pirate, while her father insisted that she had pretended for so long that she simply couldn't tell what was real and what was not anymore. And that it would take time to find her bearings in a world without constant lies. Brianna had not interfered; Obviously both men knew her feelings better than she did, since they had never directly asked her the question. So why even bother to start debating with them, just to disappoint Jamie and see Roger triumph? The last thing she wanted was to hear Roger cry victory.

Any visit to Stephen's cell had also been forbidden to her. If a guard or anyone saw them kissing or sweet talking and spread the word, the mob would surely quench its thirst for blood with her. Mr. Bellingham – who had become the Frasers' permanent lawyer since their first trial – had been very clear: no contact. And when these new restrictions to her freedom of movement had caused Brianna to burst into another fit of rage, Jamie had had no choice but to lock her up in the nursery. Again.

Her angry screams and thumps against the heavy wooden door had eventually turned into dark, almost hysterical laughter when Brianna had realized that it wasn't Stephen who was now keeping her away from her family, but her family who was keeping her away from Stephen. Oh, the irony.

The next day, when Claire had finally unlocked the door, Brianna had not even tried to leave. She had no desire to see them, no desire to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe. The only thing she wanted was to see Stephen, to tell him the truth, that she had finally accepted her love for him, and that her delayed revenge was just an unfortunate combination of circumstances. She also wanted to tell him that she was finally expecting their second child. But all of this had been denied to her. Well, if she was not allowed to see her husband, she would not see her family either. She would stay locked up here, with Jeremiah and his future sibling, until things settled down. And then she would go back. To her home, in Boston, in the twentieth century.

To Hell with her family, to Hell with this century that she could not even stand anymore, to Hell with betrayals and violence. She had had enough.

The only person she had been happy to see – although the feeling had been somewhat marred by the situation – was Phaedre. The maid had come to visit her shortly after their arrival in New Bern and both young women had fallen into each other's arms, tears streaming down their cheeks. Phaedre had told her everything: the Catawbas' attack, how they had taken her in, her trip to the Ridge to deliver the ledger. Then her banishment from the tribe, when she had returned with Wohali and the others. The chief had severely punished her accomplices for stealing the horses and disappearing for several days, before ordering her to leave. Wohali had told her to go back to the Ridge while he would try to convince the chief to give up on the punishment. And if he didn't, he would leave the tribe forever and meet her at the Frasers'.

One last kiss, and she had walked all the way back alone for days. She had been captured by a family of settlers who thought she was a runaway slave, before finally convincing them to bring her back to the Ridge by early March. Being declared dead in the slaves registries, the Frasers had welcomed her as a free woman and she had been given Bree's old bedroom until Wohali had arrived and taken her back to the tribe. She had then only made the trip to New Bern to see her former mistress after hearing the news of Tryon and Bonnet's arrest.

Brianna did not blame Phaedre for accomplishing her mission. The only thing that mattered was that Phaedre was alive. Delivering the ledger was not the cause of her misfortune. Roger and his shenanigans, on the other hand…

Three knocks on the door startled her as well as Jeremiah, who was frantically sucking on Stephen's scarf, his tired little eyes red from crying. Brianna didn't say anything. Why even bother? The people who wished to enter, entered. It wasn't like she had a choice anyway. But when the door swung open on Josiah Martin's affable face and droopy eyes, Bree's blood immediately ran cold.

"Jeremiah… Would you please go downstairs with Grandma for a while?", she whispered in his ear and the child gave her a pleading look. He did not want to go downstairs with Grandma. He wanted to stay with Mama. But the flame that he had only too often seen dancing in Mama's eyes lately frightened him a little bit and he understood that she was surely going to get very angry with the man who had just walked through the door, so he nodded and trotted down the hallway and stairs. Josiah stared at his back with a smile he probably meant to be nice but Brianna knew it was fake. Like the rest of the man, actually. But she could not provoke him: there was one last card to play and she could not screw up. The new Governor was the only person who could save Stephen now.

"How are you, Miss Fraser? Have you been able to adjust to the new situation?"

Josiah's joyful tone and the way he had stressed on her maiden name immediately made Brianna's hair stand on end, but she forced herself to stay calm and gave him a crooked smile.

"Oh you know, being locked up here or at River Run... it's a matter of habit. How is Margaret?"

"She and her daughter are doing well, thank you for asking. Their future is secured. We plan to get married in a few months."

"Congratulations." Brianna's voice was ice cold. "Can we leave the niceties at the door and get to the heart of the matter?"

Josiah let out a chuckle. "That is why I'm here for. I thought you might want some explanations."

Brianna took a quick breath and crossed the room to close the door. Before turning to Josiah with a determined look on her face.

"I didn't want to get revenge anymore. I love Stephen and I will do anything to be able to go home with him. I'll testify at trial, I'll soften the jury. I'll tell them what a fabulous father he is, I'll tell them-"

"Miss Fraser, this is not a travesty of trial for a family matter. Stephen Bonnet is accused of embezzlement, among the many crimes committed on behalf of William Tryon."

But Brianna wasn't listening. "Make him pay back his share of the embezzled money, put him under house arrest, sell River Run if you want! I will accept any punishment if it can save his life." Josiah rolled his eyes, visibly annoyed by her demands and she decided to swing for the fences. "You could pardon him. You are the Governor of this Colony, you have the power to-"

A dry laugh echoed in the room and Brianna fell silent, offended to hear him sneer at her suggestions.

"It would be incongruous if my first action as Governor of North Carolina was to pardon such a criminal. Stephen Bonnet has always been a plague on society: first as a pirate and smuggler, then as my predecessor's henchman. It was time for someone to stop him. These almost two years that you spent away from everything have made you selfish, my dear, if you really think that your love is worth more than justice and more than the well-being of the citizens of this Colony…"

Josiah's last sentence came as a blow to her. This was about more than her and Stephen; this was about more than a family affair. Living in a world exclusively made of a husband, a child and their household staff, she had almost forgotten the extent of the Irishman's other crimes. Crimes that had plagued thousands of families over the years and for which he was being tried today. The situation was beyond her, but somehow she had not fully realized it. Or had not wanted to realize it.

A painful lump formed in her throat and she felt her eyes water, causing the man in front of her to sigh in annoyance.

"Well… I was expecting different questions from you. I would be lying if I said I'm not disappointed. I'll leave you to your sorrow, then…"

But as Josiah was about to open the door again, Brianna leaned against the panel, looking up with teary, angry eyes.

"Was that your plan from the start? Inviting me to the auction? Keeping my intrusion into Lord Tryon's office a secret? Seducing Margaret and getting her to tell me about her nightmarish marriage? You wanted me to see who he was, what he was doing and with whom, the dark side he was trying to hide from me. All of this so that I would go all the way in my revenge... and help you become Governor?"

"Ah, finally… Here's the Brianna Fraser I met all those months ago, in all her glory…", Josiah hissed, squinting. His expression almost reminded her of Stephen's snake-like look whenever he was up to no good.

"Wasn't it easier to expose Lord Tryon to King George yourself? To steal the ledger and send it straight to London? Why would you go through me? Why would you wait all this time?"

The smile that played on Josiah's lips irritated her to no end. He looked like all the movie villains who are about to reveal how they committed their crimes behind the heroes' back.

"People who have money, and power, like to know that their little secrets are safe. If I had exposed my immediate superior, the King would never have chosen me to take his place. Who says that I would not find another scandal – involving people in higher places this time – and thus discredit or even heap the opprobrium on the Crown…? No, no, no… no one would have trusted me after that. It had to be someone else. You, your parents and especially Lord Grey have done a fabulous job, I must say…"

"You could have just exposed Tryon-", Brianna interjected, but he cut her off again, this time with a look of contempt and arrogance she'd never seen on his aristocratic face before.

"Stephen Bonnet is a street rat, who thought he could find a place among us. It was rather entertaining to watch him extricate himself from the filth he was born in. Strutting around like a peacock in a world that was not his. I let him make himself comfortable. Until… you arrived, my dear."

"You used me…"

"Margaret was far too weak to help me with this at the time and even if she had helped from the start, I could not resist killing three birds with one stone. Annihilate William, take his position as Governor as well as his wife and… rid North Carolina of Stephen Bonnet. At first, I thought that being betrayed by the only woman he ever loved would be the chief attraction of the show. But being betrayed by the only woman who ever loved him...? It was so... Shakespearian, don't you think?"

Brianna was literally shaking with rage, and if the reasonable part of her brain had not kept her still, she probably would have pounced on Josiah to commit her first political murder. But she had to contain herself, if only for Jeremiah's sake. And she just groaned:

"Get the Hell out of my room."

Josiah pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind his back as she turned the handle to let him out. Unable to bear the sight of this man any longer, she walked across the room to the window, pointedly turning her back on him. But just as he crossed the threshold, with one foot in the corridor, Josiah turned around one last time.

"Thank you for your help, Miss Fraser. I promise you North Carolina will be a less corrupt colony than it was in the hands of William Tryon... if that's any consolation."

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. In three seconds, Brianna whirled around, her face contorted with fury, and lunged at the Governor, but he slammed the bedroom door and turned the key—that was always on the outside—in the lock. The young woman's fists pounded the panel with such strength that Josiah worried for a moment about its solidity, before she started to yell.

"Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking bastard!"

Inside the room, Brianna continued to scream and rant for a few minutes, before realizing it was pointless. Josiah was long gone and she had no more cards to play. No matter what happened now, Stephen Bonnet would be hanged alongside Lord Tryon after the verdict. And she would be alone again, with her heart in shambles.

~o~

The next morning, Claire had brought her some food but as usual, Brianna did not even look at her, pretending to be asleep. She knew she should not, but she resented her mother for not helping her move heaven and earth to save Stephen. Claire herself had faced English soldiers and broken the law many times to save Jamie, so why couldn't she do the same for her own daughter? It was an unfair thought, though, and Brianna hated herself for it. Claire had played tricks on one small regiment in Scotland. Not an entire mob and army. That was why she had never said it out loud, and just inflicted silence and indifference on her mother.

The verdict would be announced shortly and Mr. Bellingham had already told them a few days earlier that both criminals would not be hanged publicly but out of sight, in the courtyard of a government building. Therefore, Brianna already knew that she would never see Stephen again. She had tried her last chance with Josiah the day before, without much success. All she had to do now was to accept the inevitable. And live with it.

Sometime in the morning, when the screams of the mob had died down in the surrounding streets, Jeremiah had come to snuggle up against her and they had sobbed together, hugging each other and crying themselves to sleep. But despite the background noise and the occasional shouting of her family downstairs, the only thing that woke Brianna up was the opening front door and Bellingham's voice. Her heart pounding, she carefully slipped out of bed without disturbing Jeremiah, and crept down the corridor to hear their conversation.

"-ver Run has been legally returned to your Aunt Jocasta, she'll be able to move back into her home as soon as we square away the paperwork…"

"Dat's guid news", Jamie said darkly somewhere in the room.

"The marriage between your daughter and Mr. Bonnet has been annulled. I would also like to speak with her to know if she wishes to marry Mr. MacKenzie again or…"

"Of course she wants tae...", Roger said presumptuously and Brianna clenched her fists, so hard that some of her fingernails painfully dug into her palms. "She would still be my wife if that small-time crook had left us alone."

Bellingham cleared his throat. "I'd rather talk to my client about it first, if you don't mind."

"What about the sentence? Are they… ?", Claire asked, not finishing her sentence for some reason. Much to Brianna's relief.

"Tryon was hanged earlier this morning, in the presence of a few representatives of the Crown and the new Governor. A public execution was unthinkable: the crowd would have lynched him before the executioner even had time to do his work."

"And… Bonnit?", Jamie growled.

"Only a matter of time, now. A few hours until high tide..."

Brianna's eyes widened in horror. High tide?

"High tide?", Claire wondered, unknowingly expressing the thought of her daughter who was spying on them from upstairs. "He won't be hanged?"

"Death by drowning is the rule for pirates, and he has been one for most of his despicable career. In order to avoid a stampede, he was secretly taken to a small secluded cove at the mouth of the river, near the bay. And tied to a post until the water… takes him."

The pain in Brianna's chest was so strong that she thought for a moment she would just die there, at the top of the stairs, heartbroken. Between hanging and drowning, she would have preferred him to hang. The mere thought of him all alone, watching the water inexorably rise, was unbearable – especially knowing his phobia – and Brianna's whole body started to shake. But one sentence gave her the strength to get up and start thinking. A few hours until high tide. A few hours. This was all the time she had left to try and save her husband. The father of her children. She had to think of a way out of this house. Stephen, for one, was already outside, which greatly simplified things. All she had to do was to find him and save his life.

She had already considered jumping out of the nursery window before, but it overlooked the cellar entrance and a steep stone staircase that led down under the house. The fall would be too dangerous and she could end up with a broken leg, or worse. On the other hand, Marsali's and Fergus' room, at the end of the corridor, overlooked an eave on the street side. If she was careful, she could escape that way. As she walked past her bedroom, where Jeremiah was still sound asleep, she froze and took one last look at his small, curled up body on the mattress. Brianna opened her mouth wide to muffle the sound of her breathing and sobs, before wiping away her tears. I will come back for you. I will find a way, baby. You stay here and be a good boy.

Without further ado, she entered Fergus' room, where their own children's cribs had been temporarily moved. Their youngest son was sound asleep and Brianna internally swore. She would have to be extra careful not to wake the child. If he cried, someone would come up and notice her absence. Jamie and Roger would catch her before she could even reach the end of the street. Slowly, she opened the window and leaned over to assess her route. The eave was higher than she thought, so climbing on it wouldn't be a problem, but the fall to the ground could easily twist her ankle. I have no choice, anyway. Gathering the tails of her dress, she climbed onto the windowsill and slipped outside, pausing halfway to wipe away her tears and clear her view. She then pushed the window from the outside without locking it and let herself fall on the eave. A few seconds later, her feet touched the muddy cobblestones and she scampered off toward the river.

She ran breathlessly through the streets of New Bern. Once at the port, she would only have to walk up the bank until the outskirts of the city and find the small cove Bellingham had talked about. She had to try. It was her last chance. On a street corner, her gaze was drawn to a craftsman's workshop – more specifically to the small hatchet that he had left on an outdoor workbench – and she seized it, running again despite the craftsman's angry yells.

About ten minutes later, she reached the end of the port and paused to catch her breath. Move it, Bree. You have to find him. Lungs burning, she set off again at top speed, further and further away from the city. The vegetation soon became thicker, and the ground muddier, causing her to slip several times and scrape one of her elbows on a sharp stone. But just as she was losing heart – when the idea that they had brought Stephen on the opposite side of the river threatened to trigger an anxiety attack – a man screamed, scaring the birds that were quietly resting on the water.

"Stephen…", Brianna whispered, straightening up to look around, but no one was there. At least not in this part of the river, the rest being hidden by thick trees and bushes. Beneath Bree's feet, the ground had been trodden, indicating the presence of a large group of people. Stephen wasn't far away.

Another scream echoed and this time, Bree managed to locate it. Going around the thick bushes, she came to a small creek and her gaze immediately turned to the water. Stephen was there, less than three hundred feet away, his arms bound in thick irons above his head and with water up to his waist. His green, astonished eyes on her. Brianna dropped the hatchet on the sand and hastily unfastened her dress, keeping only her stockings and bodice before diving into the water with her tool. Advancing despite the current, the seaweed and the mud was not an easy task, but she managed to reach the post... and desperately flung her arms round the Irishman's neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I'm sorry…" Tears were streaming down her cheeks again, and as she placed several nervous kisses on Stephen's dry lips, the latter kissed her back with equal eagerness.

"I know, mo fíorghrá, I know…"

"No, you don't know, I didn't want this, I didn't want it anymore, I-"

"Brianna, Brianna…", he whispered soothingly, and she froze in bewilderment at the sight of his soft smile. Too soft considering the circumstances. "Phaedre wrote to me in the jail, after she visited you and saw that you were not allowed to see me. I know…"

Relieved that she no longer needed to explain everything to him, Brianna burst into loud sobs and hugged him for a few seconds, before the weight of the hatchet in her hand reminded her of her mission.

"Let's get you out of here…" Sniffling, she showed him her weapon and immediately began hitting the huge wooden post to which he was shackled. With several hours ahead of her, she would manage to overcome it, she was sure of it.

"Brianna…"

"Don't worry, you will be free before the tide is high…"

"Brianna, stop…" But she ignored him, hitting the wood harder with her tiny hatchet.

"No, I don't have time to stop! I only have a few hours. And then we'll have to go back and get Jemmy and-"

"Brianna, I have shackles around my feet too."

Brianna froze and looked down at the unfathomable muddy waters around them.

"Even if you manage to free my hands, it won't save me."

He was speaking in a much too calm voice that only freaked Brianna out a little more. "B-but… that doesn't mean it's impossib-"

"You won't be able to use your hatchet underwater like you do now. The water will put up too much resistance."

At this point, Brianna started to panic. "I-I'll find a solution… If I can't cut the pole then… m-maybe I can… maybe I can saw your feet off? To g-get them out of the shackles?"

Stephen burst out laughing and when he looked back at his bewildered wife, his green irises were overflowing with love. "Saw my feet off? So that I can bleed out and die on the beach? Brianna…" He moved an arm, probably trying to caress her face soaked with tears, only to remember he couldn't. "I'm glad you're here, mo fíorghrá. Let's just enjoy the time we have left together… Tell me… how is Jeremiah doin'?"

Through her tears, Brianna gave him an accusing look. How could he give up so quickly? Without a fight? The situation could not be that desperate, right? They had finally found each other, they loved each other, they had to find a way to liberate him?! It could not end like this, not now. Not after everything they had been through together.

"I can't abandon you here. I want to go back to Ocracoke with you and Jeremiah", Bree sobbed, pressing herself against him. "Everything has become so hard. I don't know what to do and everyone around me keeps screaming all the time, everything is so loud and violent, and I can't hear myself think anymore, I can't fucking breathe anym-"

"You'll be all right, mo fíorghrá…" Unable to touch her with his hands, Stephen tilted his head to rub his face against hers. "If there's one thing I learned as your husband, it's how strong you are. Today, you just have to be stronger... and let me do the right thing for once."

"The right thing?", she shouted herself hoarse, on the verge of hysteria. "How is this the right thing? For me? For our son?"

"I have done far too much harm to escape justice forever…" His lips stretched into a sad smile. "I know it, you know it, everyone knows it."

"I forgave you", Brianna moaned, stroking his cheeks. Against her abdomen, another wavelet raised the level of the river by an inch or two, soaking half of her corset.

"I know... and that's all that matters to me, darlin'. Once I'm gone, everythin' I've done to you will be gone too. And you can be free again."

"Stop", she whined, a new stream of tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Let's just enjoy these last hours. Just the two of us, mo fíorghrá…"

Brianna looked up. His quiet, soothing tone contrasted with her own uncontrollable sobs and quivering lips. But he seemed determined and at peace with what was about to happen to him. Especially since she had arrived. Crying, Brianna lowered the hand that held the hatchet and slowly opened her fingers. The tool slipped from her hand, disappearing into the muddy waters, and she clung to Stephen's dirty blouse.

"Just don't leave me, all right?", he whispered against her forehead and Brianna shook her head frantically.

"I will not leave you. I'll stay until the end, I promise."

The Irishman took a long, shaky breath that betrayed the terror he must feel despite his calm demeanor. "Can we pretend, just a little bit longer?"

Brianna looked up and stared at him blankly for a moment, before realizing what he was asking for and it took her all of her strength to force a smile on her face.

"The tide will never rise that high...", she whispered, her voice broken by tears and sniffles. "The water will stop rising under your chin… and then it will go down again. We'll be able to go home… to Ocracoke."

Stephen let out a brief laugh. "Jeremiah will be thrilled to have his swing back."

"I can already see the two of them arguing over who gets to climb on it first…", Brianna laughed in turn, pressing herself closer to his chest.

"The two of them?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "I am pregnant."

"For real or-?", he asked, suddenly serious.

"For real... That's what I wanted to tell you that morning when the soldiers-" Her voice cracked again but that was not what had interrupted her. Stephen had just turned dangerously pale and frowned.

"Brianna, get out of there right now. The water is cold, you'll catch your death-"

"No, no, I'll be fine. I'm staying. I promised you, I'm staying."

The panic he read in her eyes must have convinced him for he relaxed a bit, and worry soon gave way to joy on his face.

"You're really pregnant, then?"

Brianna nodded and leaned forward to kiss him passionately. But when she ended their kiss, Stephen's smile and red eyes broke her heart.

"I am so happy, mo fíorghrá…"

"You just have to be patient", Brianna whispered, stroking his cheek. "It will be over soon. And then we can go home."

Stephen placed a kiss on her forehead and they remained like this, completely silent for a long time. Around them, life itself seemed to have come to a standstill. There was not a living soul around, a few birds and a family of squirrels being the only spectators of the tragedy that was playing out in the cove.

"When your belly gets round, know that I won't be able to keep my hands off it...", Stephen whispered.

Brianna's face was painful and cramped from crying but she managed to smile anyway. "I hope so. And she'll kick you a lot. That's all you deserve..."

"She?"

"Yes, it's a girl this time. Don't ask me how I know it, I just do."

"I see…", he chuckled, giving her a sly look. "May she be as beautiful and smart as her mother…"

"Oh, she is."

Both spouses exchanged a knowing look and as the wavelets now licked Brianna's shoulders, she captured the Irishman's lips again, probably for one of the last times. Bree never quite knew how long they were there, huddled together imagining the life they would never have, until the situation became critical... and impossible to ignore. Brianna was barely touching the ground and had been clinging to Stephen for a while so the current wouldn't carry her away. The pirate, on the other hand, had water up to his chin and even though he was doing his best not to panic, Bree now clearly read terror in his eyes.

"Brianna… the soldiers… they took my jacket and wallet in the jail. Go get them, please? Give our portrait to Jeremiah for me… I don't want them to burn it or throw it away…"

Brianna nodded frantically, spluttering as a little water came through her parted lips. "I will."

It was a white lie, however. Jeremiah had the advantage of still being a young child. He would forget. Maintaining the memory of his father for years while she tried to pick up her life where she left off in Boston would only disturb him even more. But Stephen could not and should not know that.

Three hundred feet away, on the beach, a horse appeared among the greenery, and judging by the furious look on Stephen's face, Brianna knew before she even saw him that it was Roger. But she would not let his presence ruin her last moments with Stephen and she passionately kissed her husband several times, ignoring Roger's burning gaze on her back and the treacherous waters, that sprayed their faces more and more regularly.

A few minutes later, it was becoming difficult for Stephen to keep his face above the surface, and they exchanged a last "I love you" as a stronger wave washed over the pirate.

"No…no…no, please…", Brianna whined as panic was getting the best of her again. Taking a deep breath, she sank below the surface and pressed her mouth against Stephen's, blowing as much air into it as she could before going back up for a refill. How long before the tide went down? One hour ? Maybe two? Would she be able to keep feeding him with air for so long? Yes, she felt capable of it. It was her last option, anyway.

She repeated the process four or five times before Stephen's face escaped her life-saving kiss, and she stared at him in surprise through her squinted eyes as he slowly shook his head from side to side.

Let me go…

Bree's hands came to cup his face one last time and she pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes as the Irishman's whole body began to thrash, fighting death with all its might while big bubbles escaped his mouth and rose to the surface. Brianna's lungs were also starting to burn, but she held on and it wasn't until Stephen stopped moving forever that she placed one last kiss on his forehead and resurfaced.

It took her a few more minutes to let go of Stephen, whose lifeless body was now gently swaying with the waves. She stroked his hair, his left cheek, his scar, memorizing every detail of his last touch, of their last embraces and his last sweet words. And when she finally felt ready to move – both broken and relieved that this infamous torture had come to an end – she spread her fingers and let the current separate them forever.

Slowly, using what little energy she had left after all those hours in the cold water, Brianna swam back to the shore. As stiff as a robot – and feeling like she had cried until the last ounce of water in her body – she picked up her skirt and put it on, while Roger, who had remained silent until then, dismounted his horse to meet her.

"Were ye pretendin' now too, Brianna?", he asked contemptuously.

Roger never knew how close to death he had been at that exact moment. That simple phrase, that dismissive tone he had used, had almost caused Bree to lose her mind, but one thing had held her back. Or rather two. Two children she had now to take care of and protect. Two children she would love as ardently as she had hated then loved their father. That was why she ignored his outrageous question and just drawled:

"I wanna go home."

Roger nodded and pointed at his horse. "Get on, I'll take ye back."

"No." The look Brianna gave him was so deadly that the Scotsman took a step back. "I wanna go back to Boston."

And with one last look toward the water, where only Stephen Bonnet's lifeless arms were still visible, she headed for the city.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Well here we are… I realize that this outcome for Stephen was surely not what many of you were expecting, and yet the whole story, absolutely the whole script from the beginning has been created for this exact moment. But the story is not quite over for Brianna, so please… blow your runny nose, dry your tears and read the epilogue of this story. You'll see, a little bit of cuteness will do you good.

And if you ever need to share your frustration or pain in the comments before reading the rest, I strongly encourage you to do so! I look forward to hearing your opinion and your immediate reactions to this important chapter and the whole journey that led to it.

Love y'all!

Xérès