Ian didn’t say anything, but the look of happiness on his face didn’t diminish. In fact, it grew. Jamie glanced at him, caught sight of his glowing face, and stiffened.“No,” he said, in horror. “Oh, no.”“Yes,” said Ian. A wide smile of delight split his bony face. “She sailed three days ago, Uncle. We’re too late.”
Being a resident of SC and situated between Charlestown and Wilmington, NC, I almost expected a few familiar places to be listed on the trip from Charleston to Wilmington. To be fair, there wasn't a great deal between the two cities, but there were settlements. Awendaw was settled in 1692 as Wappetaw (by settlers from Salem, MA); Hopsewee Plantation existed as early as 1735 and was the birthplace of Thomas Lynch, Jr (a Founding Father and signer of the Declaration of Independence; Georgetown was incorporated in 1729 and while not a large city, there was something like 1500 residents; Pawleys Island, Murrells Inlet and Litchfield would have been a series of plantations from the 1710s on. Now once you get into what is now Horry County there was not a lot until Little River, on the state line. At least on the road from Charleston to Wilmington. Inland a bit yes, there would be Kingston (now Conway). "Sawkastee" does appear on a 1711 map of Percival Pawley's plantation and there were people in this area (it's about 5 miles inland).
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| Jefferys, Thomas, -1771. "A Map of South Carolina and part of Georgia", A general topography of North America and the West Indies. Being a collection of all the maps, charts, plans, and particular surveys, that have been published of that part of the world, either in Europe or America. London, R. Sayer, 1768. Map. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <https://www.loc.gov/resource/g3300m.gar00003/?sp=71>. |
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| Gabaldon, Diana. The Outlandish Companion. Volume Two : The Second Companion to the Outlander Series, Covering the Fiery Cross, A Breath of Snow and Ashes, an Echo in the Bone, and Written in My Own Heart’s Blood. First edition, Delacorte Press, 2015. |
"...all of a sudden this great big swelling come up just along behind of my balls. Purely inconvenient, as you may imagine, though it don’t hurt me none to speak of, save on horseback. Might be you could take a peep and tell me what I best do for it, hm?”
Jamie thankfully interrupts by walking up at that moment and asks, “Would I have the pleasure to make the acquaintance of Mr. John Myers?”
“What it is that makes every man ye meet want to take off his breeks within five minutes of meetin’ ye.”
Fergus choked slightly, and Ian went pink. I looked as demure as possible.
“Well, if you don’t know, my dear,” I said, “no one does. I seem to have found us a boat. And what have you been up to this morning?”
I had forgotten a local (as in Grand Strand/Lowcountry area) mention occurred. When Claire is dressing for a dinner with Gov. Tryon, she questions the seamstress about the silk dress. She knows it is not from China and wonders if it is French silk.
“No, indeed it’s not. That’s made in South Carolina, that is. There’s a lady, Mrs. Pinckney by name, has gone and put half her land to mulberry trees, and went to raising silkworms on ’em. The cloth’s maybe not quite so fine as the China,” she acknowledged reluctantly, “but ’tisn’t but half the cost, either.”
The Mrs. Pinckney referred to here is Elizabeth Lucas Pinckney, second wife of Charles Pinckney. They had a few plantations, including one on the Waccamaw River. She is responsible for both local silk and growing of indigo on plantations. Her family came to their Wappo Creek plantation in 1738 because he had inherited it and two other plantations, a 1500 acre plantation on the Combahee River which produced tar and timber and a rice plantation of 3000 acres on the Waccamaw River, from his father. However, her father needed to return to his post in Antigua due looming conflict between England and Spain. So 16 year old Eliza stayed behind to manage the plantations. She personally managed Wappo Plantation and supervised the overseers at the other two. Since her brothers were still in London in school, she also supervised care for her young sister. She married Charles Pinckney, a widower on a neighboring planation.
<sigh> Jamie received some letters from Scotland sent in care of Jocasta. There were three in the packet. One a nice general, share with the family and everybody you know type letter that was written by Ian Mòr (Jenny's husband). One from Jenny. One marked private, also by Ian Mòr. Jamie decided to save Jenny's for last because, “I’ll start wi’ Ian,” he said, picking up the second letter with a grin. “I’m not sure I want to be reading Jenny’s without a glass of whisky in my hand.” Smart man. She was none to happy with him last we knew. Ian writes,
You will see from the enclosed that you are restored to my wife’s good graces; she has quite ceased to talk of you in the same breath with Auld Scratch, and I have heard no recent references to Emasculation, which may relieve your mind.
Upon opening the private letter, Jamie finds it is written as a continuation of Ian's main letter. He goes on to say:
Now, Brother, I have a matter of some concern to put to you, upon which I write separately, so that you might share my larger letter with Ian, without disclosing this matter.
Your last letter spoke of putting Ian aboard ship in Charleston. Should this have occurred, we will of course welcome his coming with joy. However, if by chance he has not yet quitted your company, it is our wish that he remain with you, should this obligation be not unpleasing to you and to Claire.
He informs him that Simon Fraser, the 11th Earl's son, is "inducing lads to take the King's shilling". (I have to interrupt myself and get the earworm out of my head. Oh "What earworm?" you ask. Well it's not a single song but a mix of "Over the Hills and Far Away" by John Tam in Sharpe, "Cruel Wars" originally by The Dreadnoughts that brings elements of other songs, Steeleye Span's somewhat trippy "Fighting for Strangers" and The Dubliners "High Germany" into it along with a few others, love the song but I love the version by The Longest Johns a bit more, and well the version of "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye" by Dropkick Murphys, and really they all work together in a way) So Ian also then acknowledges that there isn't much left, especially for a younger son. He notes that Young Jamie and Michael are fine for the present, Young Jamie working with Ian and as owner of Lallybroch and Michael in Paris with Jared. But also Ian has Jamie's spirit of adventure which combined with a lack of work for him and (unlike his uncle) a lack of desire to engage in becoming a scholar and no head for business. In light of this, Ian states,
I could ask no better Guardian or example for him than Yourself. I know I ask a great Favour of you in this Matter. Still, I hope the situation will not be entirely without benefit to you, beyond the presumed Great Pleasure of Ian’s company. [here Ian pauses a bit and later continues]
I wrote of Simon Fraser, earlier. He is a man of honour, though his father’s son—but he is a bloody man. I have known him since all of us were lads (sometimes that seems but yesterday; and then again, a gulf of years), and there is a hardness in him now, a glimpse of steel at the back of his eyes, that was not there before Culloden.
What troubles me—and the knowledge you bear of my love toward you is all that emboldens me to say this—is that I have seen that steel in your own eyes, Brother.
I know too well the sights that freeze a man’s heart, to harden his eyes in that fashion. I trust that you will forgive my rankness, but I have feared for your soul, many times since Culloden.
I have not spoken of the matter to Jenny, but she has seen it, too. She is a woman, forbye, and will know you in ways I cannot. It will be that fear, I think, that caused her to throw Laoghaire at your head. I did think the match ill-made, but (here a large, deliberate blotch obscured several lines). You are fortunate in Claire.
So Ian is definitely a smart man here. But it is the next bit that made me look for ninjas cutting onions. He explains that Simon has no wife, child, root or heart, and his patrimony is held by a king he'd fought against. All he had was the care of his men as a link to humanity.
Thus I give you to each other, and may God’s blessing—and mine—be with you both.
Aunt Jocasta decides to have a dinner party. Phillip Wylie, Herman Husband, James Hunter were on either side and across the table from Claire. Jamie had asked her to prepare a diversion of some sort if he signaled he needed one. But one was provided whether Jamie needed it or not in the form of a VERY highly intoxicated John Quincy Myers accompanied by Duncan Innes. Myers was ready for Claire to do surgery. So yeah, go from a dinner party to what becomes theatre. Now I am usually not squeamish. I've watched videos of surgeries while eating. But the description here...it's a vivid one.
Claire improvising a bra and trousers so she can accompany Jamie and John Quincy Myers into the back country is interesting.
“I don’t mean to ride sidesaddle through the mountains wearing a dress, and if I’m not wearing stays, I don’t mean my breasts to be joggling all the way, either. Most uncomfortable, joggling.”
When he asks about the trousers, she asks if he likes them. Ehhh. He definitely has an opinion about them.
“No,” he said bluntly. “Ye canna be going about in—in—” He waved at them, speechless....
“Ye wore them outside?” he said, in tones of incredulity. “Where folk could see ye?”...
“I did,” I said crossly. “So did most other women. Why not?”
“Why not?” he said, scandalized. “I can see the whole shape of your buttocks, for God’s sake, and the cleft between!”
“I can see yours, too,” I pointed out, turning around to face him. “I’ve been looking at your backside in breeks every day for months, but only occasionally does the sight move me to make indecent advances on your person.”
Jamie now cannot decide whether to laugh or not and Claire takes a moment to explain how she finds the kilt an inducement to ravishing him, but he also looks good in his breeks. Jamie insists she remove the trousers...until a bit later when she can put them back on.
I had forgotten that, after Jamie, Claire and Ian traveled to what becomes Fraser's Ridge, meet the Tuscarora, the Nacognaweto Chief, his two sons, his wife, step-daughter and grandmother, and built their cabin, that not only had Duncan been to visit a time or two, as had John Quincy Myers, that Claire found a skull in a cave. From a dream or the Sight, she had thought the skull was of a Native American but she also noted he had a silver filling in one of his teeth. But the surprising part is one day she is by the creek and comes across a young boy whose legs are covered in leeches. He begs her to remove them. She realizes that the boy is William Ransom, Lord Ellesmere, 9th Earl of Ellesmere. He says he and his step-father were looking for friends of his step-father's. the Frasers. Claire had also been nursing a man who had the measles. And then John got sick as well. Claire had the measles so she was safe, as was Jamie. So to keep Willie from catching them, she sent Jamie and Willie to Anna Oora to inform Nacognaweto about the man who died. Willie has had calamitous moments during this visit already. He fell in the privy. And he's still dealing with the loss of Isobel (who died on the journey to Jamaica) he was not wanting to leave John. He attacked Jamie over it but they came to an understanding.
On this trip to Anna Oora, Jamie realizes just how much Willie is like him. They share not only their looks and size, but the boy is left handed. Isobel wanted to force him to be right handed but John put a stop to that and made sure Willie knew that when it came to fighting, he'd have an advantage by learning to do so with his left hand. At one point, he suggest Willie go to sleep and Willie insists he is not tired. He then "sat up and scrubbed his hands vigorously through his hair, making the thick russet mass stand out like a mane round his head." It struck Jamie that he was about to do that very thing as well. He stopped himself. Willie is curious about the Tuscaroras. And the talk turns to children. Willie asks if Jamie has children. Jamie says his daughter is grown and living in Boston. Then Willie asks about any sons. Jamie informs him, yes he has a son as well.
“A bonny lad, and I love him weel, though he’s away from home just now.”
And while I am not a knitter, I am familiar with the process. Enough to have stabbed myself many times on needles in a knitting bag. My own fault too. I knew better than to reach into a crafter's bag without looking. But this bit is one I find somewhat amusing. While Jamie and Willie are heading to the Tuscarora village and she is caring for John, and now Ian, who both have the measles, she needs something she can do while being close for the men. Pardon the length of this quote. But it's an interesting bit.
The basket was full of dyed skeins of wool and linen thread. Some I had been given by Jocasta, some I had spun myself. The difference was obvious, but even the lumpy, awkward-looking strands I produced could be used for something. Not stockings or jerseys; perhaps I could knit a tea cozy—that seemed sufficiently shapeless to disguise all my deficiencies.
Jamie had been simultaneously shocked and amused to find that I didn’t know how to knit. The question had never arisen at Lallybroch, where Jenny and the female servants kept everyone in knitted goods. I had taken on the chores of stillroom and garden, and never dealt with needlework beyond the simplest mending.
“Ye canna clickit at all?” he said incredulously. “And what did ye do for your winter stockings in Boston, then?”
“Bought them,” I said.
He had looked elaborately around the clearing where we had been sitting, admiring the half-finished cabin.
“Since I dinna see any shops about, I suppose ye’d best learn, aye?”
“I suppose so.” I dubiously eyed the knitting basket Jocasta had given me. It was well equipped, with three long circular wire needles in different sizes, and a sinister-looking set of four double-ended ivory ones, slender as stilettos, which I knew were used in some mysterious fashion to turn the heels of stockings.
“I’ll ask Jocasta to show me, next time we go down to River Run. Next year perhaps.”
Jamie snorted briefly and picked up a needle and a ball of yarn.
“It’s no verra difficult, Sassenach. Look—this is how ye cast up your row.” Drawing the thread out through his closed fist, he made a loop round his thumb, slipped it onto the needle, and with a quick economy of motion, cast on a long row of stitches in a matter of seconds. Then he handed me the other needle and another ball of yarn. “There—you try.”
I looked at him in complete amazement.
“You can knit?”
“Well, of course I can,” he said, staring at me in puzzlement. “I’ve known how to clickit wi’ needles since I was seven years old. Do they not teach bairns anything in your time?”
“Well,” I said, feeling mildly foolish, “they sometimes teach little girls to do needlework, but not boys.”
“They didna teach you, did they? Besides, it’s no fine needlework, Sassenach, it’s only plain knitting. Here, take your thumb and dip it, so …”
And so he and Ian—who, it turned out, could also knit and was prostrated by mirth at my lack of knowledge—had taught me the simple basics of knit and purl, explaining, between snorts of derision over my efforts, that in the Highlands all boys were routinely taught to knit, that being a useful occupation well suited to the long idle hours of herding sheep or cattle on the shielings.
“Once a man’s grown and has a wife to do for him, and a lad of his own to mind the sheep, he maybe doesna make his own stockings anymore,” Ian had said, deftly executing the turn of a heel before handing me back the stocking, “but even wee laddies ken how, Auntie.”
Calling it "clickit" is just adorable. Knitting was male dominated at one time. Then it became a family affair. And even as late as WWI and WWII, soldiers in hospitals recovering from injuries would pass the time with knitting. Then it became rare for men to knit. And in the last 15 years or so, it has picked back up.
“D’ye know,” Roger said sleepily, some time later, “I think I’ve just married my great-aunt six times removed? I’ve only just thought.”...
“So if Dougal is my great-uncle, and your six-times great-grandfather … no, you’re wrong. I’m about your sixth or seventh cousin, not your aunt.”“No, that would be right if we were in the same generation of descent, but we’re not; you’re up about five—on your father’s side, at least.”
“She means Brianna hasna had her courses in two months,” Ian provided matter-of-factly. The youngest of a family containing several older sisters, he was not constrained by Lizzie’s delicacy. “She’s sure.”
And asks Jamie if they should stop him from finding Bree somehow. Part of the confusion is they've all known Claire and Bree to speak of Roger as Wakefield but he has been using MacKenzie since he went through the stones. Yeah this ain't gonna end well.
Uh oh. Ian just proposed to Bree for the sake of the baby. It was not completely his idea. Bree overheard Ian explaining who he was courting to Claire and her father's role in the proposal. A few pages of Jamie and Bree yelling at each other in the barn has Ian informing Claire,
“Ye’ve only the twa choices now, Auntie,” he murmured in my ear. “Douse them both wi’ a pan o’ cold water, or come away with me and leave them to it. I’ve seen Uncle Jamie and my Mam go at it before. Believe me, ye dinna want to step between two Frasers wi’ their dander up. My Da said he’s tried once or twice, and got the scars to prove it.”
And then they have Bree draw a picture of Roger and Jamie and Ian realize they have made a horrible mistake. Oh it's worse than the barn argument about. Claire pulled out the ring and showed it to Jamie and Ian. And they finally ask where she got the ring. And learn that she got it from Bonnet when he raped her. N.B. That brings up something I forgot to mention earlier. The song Bonnet hums and sings at various times in the books... well, it's "Spanish Ladies" aka "Farewell and Adieu". And while it A song of that title but different lyrics did exist in the early 1600s. However, the lyrics used now and by Bonnet in 1769 appear until the 1796 logbook of HMS Nellie. The song's Wikipedia page notes,
"created during the War of the First Coalition (1793–96), when the Royal Navy carried supplies to Spain to aid its resistance to revolutionary France. It probably gained in popularity during the later Peninsular War when British soldiers were transported throughout the Iberian peninsula to assist rebels fighting against the French occupation. After their victory over the Grande Armée, these soldiers were returned to Britain but forbidden to bring their Spanish wives, lovers, and children with them."
So, while it's possible it is older than the 1790s, I have to wonder why it was the choice for Bonnet given the history. Admittedly, it is a small timeline quibble. Slightly anachronistic but easily explained away if the song was passed around verbally through listening to others sing it years before it was actually written down and published.
On one hand, the whole Otter-Tooth story is understandable in his aim to not see the Native Americans forgotten. But the problem is how he tried to accomplish it. I mean there's a bit of the unhinged going on with him beyond the whole "I'm from the future so I know what's happened" part. Because let's face, most people meeting someone who says they're from the future aren't going to take them too seriously. Human nature to doubt.
Yet again, we have a book description that varies from the show. John Grey, when Bree meets him. She notes"
"She had heard her mother speak of John Grey—soldier, diplomat, nobleman—and expected someone tall and imposing. Instead, he was six inches shorter than she was, fine-boned and slight, with large, beautiful eyes, and a fair-skinned handsomeness that was saved from girlishness only by the firm set of mouth and jaw."
David Berry is 6'1", brown haired, blue eyed, and I don't think he'd be considered fair-skinned or fine-boned, or slight. Though to be fair, I cannot picture anyone else as John Grey after seeing David Berry play him. I can't even think of an actor who would best fit the general description and age range to be honest. Yes, I have a soft spot for John. He had society against him when it came to falling in love in general. And then he fell for Jamie. And that aside, they have such mutual respect for each other. I'd even say Jamie platonically loves John. Jamie also tries to be careful of John's feelings for him that he doesn't return. But anyway...
Bree is spiraling into her own thoughts of her parents and Ian being unable to find Roger or him no longer being alive. Or worse, none of them ever coming back. She also has thoughts of missing her own time and place. And then she faints. But after, she is firmly convinced they're all coming back. John asked to speak to her while she was resting. He wanted to inform her that Jamie had asked him to look for Roger (before Roger showed up on the Ridge). John said he was not on a ship and hadn't been impressed anywhere between Jamestown and Charleston. She lets him know that he doesn't have to continue searching as she knows where he was. She gives him basic facts of the situation. She does ask him about the legality of handfasting and he thinks it falls into the same class as a couple that lives together being considered to have a common law marriage. But as Bree points out, they are not currently living together because of Jamie and Ian's intervention. Bree considers herself married but Auntie Jo says she is not legally bound to Roger. And Bree even notes that by Scots custom, it has not been a year and a day. And so then Bree proposes to John. I cannot imagine how that man felt. He handles it rather nicely though. They discuss Mrs. Alderdyce and how she likely does not want her precious son (who is 40 if not older) marrying Bree. He gently hints that at 40 and unmarried, Judge Alderdyce is unlikely because he's not interested in women. Bree is so frustrated about being paraded before eligible men just because she is pregnant. And John turns rather...not paternal exactly, maybe avuncular is a better term. Kind, caring, but suggesting she needs to rest. And since he doesn't need to go to Charleston on her behalf, he decides to take Auntie Jo up on her invitation and decides that tomorrow they may be able to come up with a solution. John definitely has a unique relationship with various Frasers. Hopelessly in love with Jamie and raising his natural son, proposed to by Bree, and then what I know from previous reads what happens to change Claire from a slightly adversarial relationship due to jealousy on both their parts to united in mourning Jamie and John doing everything he could to protect Claire. Mutual shared grief until Jamie returns from the dead. But even as it stands now, Claire does like John, even if she might not want to and firmly feels he is a good man
In the middle of the night, Bree comes to a realization about John. And her realization has some errors in it. She realizes one thing missing when she is around John.
Lord John treated her always with attention and respect—often with amusement or admiration—but there was something missing....
She was accustomed, as are most striking women, to the open admiration of men, and this she had from Lord John as well. But below such admiration was usually a deeper awareness, more subtle than glance or gesture, a vibration like the distant chime of a bell, a visceral acknowledgment of herself as female. She had thought she felt it from Lord John when they met—but it had been gone on subsequent meetings, and she had concluded that she had mistaken it at first.
She should have guessed before, she thought; she’d encountered that inner indifference once before, in the roommate of a casual boyfriend. But then, Lord John hid it very well; she might never have guessed, were it not for that chance encounter in the yard. No, he didn’t chime for her. But when he came out of the servants’ quarters, he had been ringing like a firebell.
She wondered briefly if her father knew, but dismissed the possibility. After his experiences in Wentworth Prison, he couldn’t possibly hold a man with that preference in such warm regard as she knew he felt for Lord John.
Yeah the whole Jamie can't know and still have such a warm regard for John is where she is mistaken. Though to be fair, it is logical given the BJR connection and how he treated Jamie. Jamie is probably a bit rare in that he does so highly regard John in spite of that. It takes her three days to convince herself that blackmailing John is the best thing for her to do, and to "overcome her own scruples" and then find a good time and place to put the plan in action. She proposes to him.
He kept smiling, evidently waiting for the punch line.
“I mean it,” she said.
The smile didn’t altogether go away, but it altered. She wasn’t sure whether he was dismayed at her gaucherie or just trying not to laugh, but she suspected the latter.
“I don’t want any of your money,” she assured him. “I’ll sign a paper saying so. And you don’t need to live with me, either, though it’s probably a good idea for me to go to Virginia with you, at least for a little while. As for what I could do for you …” She hesitated, knowing that hers was the weaker side of the bargain. “I’m strong, but that doesn’t mean much to you, since you have servants. I’m a good manager, though—I can keep accounts, and I think I know how to run a farm. I do know how to build things. I could manage your property in Virginia while you were in England. And … you have a young son, don’t you? I’ll look after him; I’d be a good mother to him.”
Lord John had stopped dead in the path during this speech. Now he leaned slowly back against the brick wall, casting his eyes up in a silent prayer for understanding.
“Dear God in heaven,” he said. “That I should live to hear an offer like that!” Then he lowered his head and gave her a direct and piercing look.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“No,” she said, with an attempt at keeping her own composure. “It’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion.”
“I have heard,” he said, rather cautiously, with an eye to her belly, “that women in an expectant condition are somewhat … excitable, in consequence of their state. I confess, though, that my experience is distressingly limited with respect to … that is—perhaps I should send for Dr. Fentiman?”
Oh dear. She does not know just the offer to be a mother to William would mean since she's unaware of his parentage. Then she presses on with "If you don't marry me, I'll expose you." John tells her he's half tempted to accept her outrageous proposal. He muses it would please Auntie Jo, outrage Claire and teach Bree "not to play with fire". Bree now doubts herself and thinks he might be attracted to both men and women. He reminds her he WAS married and she said she thought it was a formal arrangement. Then, rather indelicately she asks, “Are you telling me that you do like to go to bed with women?” Oy vey.
“Would that make a substantial difference to your plans?”
“Well …” she said uncertainly. “Yes. Yes, it would. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
“ ‘Suggested,’ she says,” he muttered. “Public denunciation? The pillory? Suggested?”
She then confesses she would never have done it but that when he laughed...well if she thought he wanted to sleep with her, she couldn't do it. Why? "Because of Roger" and then she bursts into tears. And then informs John that he might be right about it being part of pregnancy (the uncharacteristic tears that is). She explains how if he liked women, she couldn't do it, because she didn't want to sleep with him regularly and she wouldn't mind him taking a lover of either gender, but she thought he might like a child of his own and she could give it to him. I am getting whiplash from her back and forth so I can only imagine John's reaction.
“Come and sit down, child,” he said quietly. “You’d best tell me what the devil you’re up to.”
She took a deep, savage breath to steady her voice.
“I am not a child,” she said. He glanced up at her and seemed to change his mind about something.
“No, you’re not—God help us both. But before you startle Farquard Campbell into an apoplexy with your notion of a suitable marriage contract, I beg you to sit with me for a moment and share the processes of your most remarkable brain.”
She explains part of her issue is Roger's honor, how he gave up everything to follow her and he will insist on marrying her once he finds out she is pregnant and she cannot allow him to do that because she doesn't want him obligated to marry her. He understands why Jocasta is pushing a husband on Bree but wonders why him.
“Is it my title or my wealth?”
“Neither one. It was because I was sure that you didn’t like women,” she said, giving him one of those candid blue looks.
“Yes,” she said, the small lines between her eyes vanishing like magic. “That’s what I thought. See, it wouldn’t be right for me to marry Mr. MacNeill or Barton McLachlan or any of those men, because I’d be promising something I couldn’t give them. But you don’t want that anyway, so there isn’t any reason why I can’t marry you.”
“There most assuredly is.”
“What?”
“To name only the most obvious, your father would undoubtedly break my neck!”
“What for?” she demanded, frowning. “He likes you; he says you’re one of his best friends.”
“I am honored to be the recipient of his esteem,” he said shortly. “However, that esteem would very shortly cease to exist, upon Jamie Fraser’s discovering that his daughter was serving as consort and brood mare to a degenerate sodomite.”
“And how would he discover that?” she demanded. “I wouldn’t tell him.” Then she flushed and, meeting his outraged eye, suddenly dissolved into laughter, in which he helplessly joined.
“Well, I’m sorry, but you said it,” she gasped at last, sitting up and wiping her streaming eyes with the hem of her cloak.
“Oh, Christ. Yes, I did.” Distracted, he thumbed a strand of hair out of his mouth, and wiped his running nose on his sleeve again. “Damn, why haven’t I a handkerchief? I said it because it’s true. As for your father finding out, he’s well aware of the fact.”
“He is?” She seemed disproportionately surprised. “But I thought he’d never—”
At this point they're interrupted by a maid in a neighboring garden so they move to a new location to continue speaking without being over heard. Bree asks what he meant by teaching her not to play with fire. He points out she looks like her father and the penny drops for her. She exclaims
"Not you—not Da! He wouldn’t!"
“No,” Lord John said, very dryly. “He wouldn’t. Though your shock is scarcely flattering. And for what the statement is worth, I would under no circumstances take advantage of your likeness to him—that was as much an idle threat as was your menacing me with exposure.”
He then goes on to answer her question of how they met and how her offer would make an angel weep and he is no angel. She explains how Claire feels about him but also worries John will hurt Jamie. Bree asks if John had seen Jamie's back and he admits he was the one who ordered one of the floggings. He explains how it hurt their friendship for awhile. That Jamie knew what a flogging felt like so when he took responsibility for the contraband plaid, he knew the consequences. John said he hated that Jamie forced him to degrade Jamie, that it wasn't enough to not acknowledge John's feelings but to try to destroy those feelings. Bree explains Jamie has a reason for that but it's for him to share with John. She also asks why John forgave Jamie for that.
“I had to.” He glanced at her, eyes straight and level. “I hated him for as long as I could. But then I realized that loving him … that was part of me, and one of the best parts. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t love me, that had nothing to do with it. But if I could not forgive him, then I could not love him, and that part of me was gone. And I found eventually that I wanted it back.” He smiled, faintly. “So you see, it was really entirely selfish.”
John also says she's right, that to marry someone who is only marrying you because they feel obligated to do so...well he wouldn't do it. He said if it was a mutual thing where it's a matter of convenience and respect on both sides, that's different. She wonders if that means he will marry her. No. He still says he cannot.
“No,” he said bluntly. “I may have forgiven Jamie Fraser for what he did in the past—but he would never forgive me for marrying you.” He smiled at her, and patted the hand he held tucked in the curve of his arm.
“I can give you some respite from both your suitors and your aunt, though.” He glanced at the house, whose curtains hung unstirring against the glass.
“Do you suppose anyone’s watching?”
“I’d say you can bet on it,” she said, a little grimly.
“Good.” Pulling off the sapphire ring he wore, he turned to face her and took her hand. He pulled off her mitten and ceremoniously slid the ring onto her little finger—the only one it would fit. Then he rose smoothly on his toes and kissed her on the lips. Leaving her no time to recover from surprise, he clasped her hand in his, and turned once more toward the house, his expression bland.
“Come along, my dear,” he said. “Let us announce our engagement.”
The Mohawks come to take Father Alexandre away. Then he hears fighting break out and attempts to escape. He hears all the yelling and amidst the sound of yelling Mohawks, he swears he hears Gaelic. "'Caisteal Dhuni!' somebody shouted nearby, followed by a hair-raising screech. Scots—white men! He had to get to them!" He again hears "Caisteal Dhuni!" followed by "Do mi! Do mi", which means "To me!" and renews his efforts to break out. Roger kills someone who attacked him and got knocked out. He awakens to Jamie passed out, and goes to clean the blood from Jamie's face. Jamie awakens and nearly pulls his sgian dubh on Roger. Then he asks where Claire is. Roger is shocked Jamie brought Claire with him Jamie then apologizes and says he came to make things right. He says he will let Roger have his satisfaction at a later date but to wait until they were safely out of their current situation. Roger agrees.
They discuss how the priest was burned as was someone else. Then Roger asks, "“How many men did you bring with you?”
The blue eyes flashed, surprised.
“My nephew Ian.”
“That’s all?” Roger tried to keep the stunned disbelief out of his voice, but patently failed.
“Ye were expecting the 78th Hieland regiment?” Fraser asked sarcastically. He got to his feet, swaying slightly, arm pressed to his side. “I brought whisky.”
“Whisky? Did that have anything to do with the fighting?” Remembering the reek of the man who had fallen over him, Roger nodded toward the wall of the longhouse.
“It may have.”
Jamie then says he had seen a man's heart ripped from its chest before but never consumed in front of the man and he looked to Claire in shock. Then he noticed a young woman with a cradleboard. She calmly handed the cradleboard to Claire and walked into the fire. That's what set off the fighting apparently. He tried fighting his way to Claire but got hit over the head with a war club. Then in trying to fight the man off, got jumped by three men and hit in the temple. And he hadn't seen Claire or Ian since.
They begin talking about what happened and why Jamie brought Claire with him but not Bree. How Roger is surprised Bree wasn't as stubborn about insisting on going with Jamie. Jamie suggests he might not know Bree that well then. Roger assures Jamie he knows her well as she is his wife.
“The hell she is.”
MacKenzie’s black brows drew down at that.
“We are handfast, she and I. Did she not tell you that?”
She hadn’t—but he hadn’t given her much chance to tell him, either. Too furious at the thought of her willing to bed a man, stung at thinking she’d made a fool of him, proud as Lucifer and suffering the Devil’s pains for it, in wishing her perfect and finding her only as human as himself.
“When?” Jamie asked.
“Early September, in Wilmington. When I—just before I left her.”
Jamie muses that Bree didn't tell him and Roger suggests because Bree thought Jamie might not consider handfasting legal. Jamie says, "“Or perhaps she didna see it so herself”. Roger says he saw it as a legal marriage.
Claire is brought in and finds Jamie and Roger. She sees Roger's wounded foot and tries to make sure he is alright. Then sees Jamie is also injured. As she's looking him over, he suggests they tell Roger she is pregnant but not about Bonnet. Claire explains what happened. How some of the young men found the whiskey and it caused the fighting. Normally Roger would have been put to death for killing the man he killed. But in light of the whiskey, he would likely just have to be adopted into the tribe to replace the dead man. They argue about who will stay only for Ian to appear the next morning having taken the decision out of their hands. He's alreayd had his hair plucked, his ear pierced and gotten tattooed. He asks Claire to assure Jenny that he will never forget her. He gets Roger's promise that he will care for Bree and the bairn. And then...
Ian smiled, though his eyes were full of tears. “Ye said to me once, that my life wasna meant to be wasted,” he said. “It won’t be.” He held out his arms. “I willna forget you, either, Uncle Jamie.”
Ugh...more onion cutting ninjas.
So now Jamie, Claire and Roger have left. Claire insists on telling Roger that the baby may not be his. Roger admits he stole jewels from Bonnet. And then they separate, with Jamie and Claire continuing on and Roger staying where they'd stopped to absorb the news. Jamie and Claire arrive at River Run, where John is recovering from his injuries when Bonnet broke out of prison. Bree is large due to her advanced pregnancy. They have continued to let people think they were betrothed. And one day, Jamie and Claire return. Claire says Roger will be following shortly. And soon after Bree has her son (not Osbert as she had been calling him), they returned to the ridge.
Claire was pondering the effects the rabbits had on her garden when a man comes up to her. Roger has returned at last. As he entered the house, he startled Jamie, who of course, pulled a gun on him and knocked over a bench, waking the baby. Claire realizes at this point that you can see that Jamie and Roger are related.
The flame of Brianna’s head moved slightly, looking from one to the other, and I saw what she saw; the echo of Jamie’s dangerous stillness in Roger. It was both unexpected and shocking; I had never seen any resemblance between them at all—and yet at the moment they might have been day and dark, images of fire and night, each mirroring the other.
I swear, these ninjas really love their onions. Surely it has to be that and not the book making me weep. Why?
Roger’s reached his hand toward Jamie, palm up, and the gesture held no hint of supplication.
“I don’t imagine it pleases you any more than it does me,” he said, in his rusty voice, “but you are my nearest kinsman. Cut me. I’ve come to swear an oath in our shared blood.”... She stilled at once under its weight, at once a promise of restraint and protection, but she held the child tight, cradled against her breast. Roger knelt in front of her, and reaching out, pushed the shawl aside and smeared a broad red cross upon the downy curve of the baby’s forehead.
“You are blood of my blood,” he said softly, “and bone of my bone. I claim thee as my son before all men, from this day forever.” He looked up at Jamie, challenging. After a long moment, Jamie gave the slightest nod of acknowledgment, and stepped back, letting his hand fall from Brianna’s shoulder.
Yep. Just a small sacred oath amongst kin.
Oh boy...the Gathering. The letter to Dr. Wakefield from Frank that Roger Mac found. "I’ve something the matter with my heart. Besides Claire, I mean (says he, with irony). The doctor says it might be years yet, with care, and I hope it is—but there’s the odd chance." Frank was ill and knew it. Apparently never told Claire or Bree. And now I am wondering about his car accident and if this heart issue played a role in it. Wow. How I missed that on the first read I do not know. But that's a bit of a bomb. At first Roger Mac was going to give the letter to Bree and/or Claire. But he felt it might be for Jamie to hear.
Well the Gathering ended with a bonfire, a calling out of the clans in attendance and a choice made. Bree told Roger he should go down to the first and tell them the MacKenzies were there.
Quotes from Drums of Autumn © 1996 by Diana Gabaldon
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