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November 23 - December 10, 2021
Roger had said to me, quietly, when no one was nearby to hear, that he thought he had seen a faint blue light come and go in my hands as I touched Jamie, flickering like swamp fire.
She said it was a black man left it, sayin’ it was for the conjure-woman what lived at Fraser’s Ridge, and would she kindly pass it on when someone was to be headin’ up this way. I do suppose he meant you,”
It was smooth and felt remarkably warm, considering the chilliness of the air.
“A Mhoire Mhàthair!”
Davina: Holy Mother
Google translate: Mother Mary
whose one language was neither English, French, German, Latin, Hebrew, nor Greek. He thought it might conceivably be Polish, but if it was, the knowledge wouldn’t help him.
the night he’d spent—at sixteen—tied to a tree on a dark Scottish mountain with a broken arm had seemed endless.
whirled round to see fucking Percy Wainwright.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
William, yes. Why bother with the JHRC when there's this one?
“Oh,” said Amaranthus, rising. “So he really is a madman? Maybe you’d best put Mr. Wainwright down, William; he can’t talk like that.”
“So this Richardson is a turncoat and a madman? The Americans seem not to be very choosy, do they?” “I gather they made James Fraser a general, if that tells you anything.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I do hope he isn’t mad,” she said, and looked at William speculatively. “I don’t believe that treason shows up in the blood, necessarily, but I’m reasonably sure madness is inheritable. Look at the King, I mean.” “No,” William said. “Mr. Fraser may be a good many things, but he’s not mad.
And three, no matter whether it’s possible for anyone whatever to compel Uncle Hal to do anything whatever—he bloody isn’t here to do it, anyway.”
Brandy. And…vomit.
Oops
William had seen Mother Claire take someone’s pulse, more than once,
🥰
Germain stood back, smiling shyly, but then Jamie came round the corner of the house and shouted, “Germain!” and Germain broke into a run and leapt into his grandfather’s arms, nearly knocking him flat.
“Healthier,” Jamie repeated, eyes still fixed on John Quincy, who nodded. Germain’s arms were still locked around Jamie’s waist, his face buried in Jamie’s shirt. He patted the boy’s back. “Aye. I expect so. Come along in and hae a bite and a whet. There’s fresh buttermilk and the girls have made beer.”
the bones of his face now framed a man’s eyes, and those eyes kept careful watch on his sisters, and on any threat to them.
and the raw scar on his arm,
Arm? I just scrolled back and it was leg, knee, side, and center chest. ??
“For you and Grand-père,” he said, frowning as his voice soared and broke in the middle of the last word. “Grand-père,” he repeated, in a voice as deep as he could make it. I kept my face as grave as possible, and broke the seal.
"When it's time to change, you've got to rearrange..."
You put the Sword into my Hand, milord, and I will not lay it down. Votre fils et votre fille, Fergus Claudel Fraser
“Someone—or several someones—shoot you full of holes and fracture your sternum and you don’t make a peep,” I observed. “Ask you to stretch a few muscles…” “I was busy dying,” he said through gritted teeth. “And if ye think it’s simple to talk wi’ a fractured sternum…Oh, God…”
“And…then he told Germain to go in the back room and he did, but he looked out and saw his father kneel down and shoot the other man in the head, too. He said Mr. Fergus’s gun was a special two-barreled canon,” she added, obviously impressed by this detail. “Because he only has one hand.”
It was a spring snow and would be gone in hours—but for the moment, it was beautiful,
“How do you feel this morning?” I said. He groaned and opened his eyes a little more. “Like someone’s stepped on my cock.” “Really? Who?” I asked lightly. He closed his eyes again. “I dinna ken, but it feels like it was someone heavy.”
“Hmm…” I rubbed a little with both hands, slowly. “I think your circulation is in order…. Any bruising?” “Well, not yet,” he said, sounding mildly apprehensive.
“If ye mean to stick that up my arse, Sassenach,” he said, “I’d be very much obliged if ye didn’t.”
“Please do marry him, Mrs. Hardman,” he said urgently. “He can’t cook anything but porridge and beans with burnt bacon.” “And thee thinks I can?” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“Grand!” said Aidan, delighted. “So it’s a bargain, is it?” “Well, it might be, if you’ll stop talking,” Bobby said, giving Aidan a look of mild exasperation.
JAMIE REMEMBERED THE FIRST Quaker wedding he’d attended, vividly.
So do we all, thanks Fergus 🤣
Fanny, Jem, Amanda, Tòtis, Germain, Joanie, and Félicité (so aptly called Fizzy) were squirming on the bench in front of Claire and himself, presumably on the theory that a soft but menacing clearing of the throat on his part would ensure restraint on theirs.
He was alive, he could walk, Claire was beside him, and death was once more a matter that he needn’t fash himself about.
“We’re going to marry you,” Aidan said firmly to the girls. “All of us are marrying all of you. Will you— Oh, sorry, will thee all marry us all?”
It's like the Brady Bunch of The Ridge - man with 3 sons marries woman with 3 daughters!
Jamie’s half-healed sternum hurt amazingly, and he was not the only member of the congregation who had laughed themselves to tears. He found that he couldn’t stop, though. Claire handed him a clean handkerchief and he buried his face in it, remembered grief and present joy and fear and peace all spilling out like cold, pure water.
Lizzie and Rachel had made enough beer to drown an army of thirsty moose;
About time we see Lizzie; where are the twins?!
I saw Fanny’s face change and she looked down to hide it, realizing only then that she had accidentally dropped a spoonful of butter beans and corn onto the table, instead of into the bowl. “God damn it!”
“Does Friend Jamie approve of this?” Prudence asked, frowning at them.
My stomach rumbled suddenly, and Jamie, who had come out of the house behind me, laughed. “Have ye no eaten anything at all yet, Sassenach?” “Well…no. I was busy.” “Well, now ye’re not,” he said firmly, and handed me the plate of buttered corn, fresh roast pork, and yams with chestnuts he was holding. “Sit down and eat, a nighean. Ye’re run off your feet.”
Jamie put the plate on my lap and thrust a fork into my hand. “Ye’re no going anywhere, Sassenach, until ye’ve eaten that, so dinna be telling me otherwise. Jem! Bring your grannie some nut bread and some of the peach cobbler—wi’ a good bit o’ cream on it.”
“If that’s effing Benjamin Cleveland…” I began,
😂
He was steady enough, but his right hand was folded hard round the head of his stick, the knuckles white.
“Sir,” he said, and swallowed. “I need your help.”
