Chapter 24: Reverse

Claire never liked waking to an empty bed, especially in Scotland, where temperatures usually sank during the night, no matter how relatively warm it had gotten during the day. Having acknowledged Jack's absence with a frown, she looked over to the other bed the children were given and found them reassuringly all still asleep. Why Jack didn't wake any of them though was quite puzzling judging by how high the sun was up the sky. No matter how clean and welcoming this particular inn was for a change, it wasn't like they didn't have ground to make up for.

Apprehensive of the occurrence, she fingered her wedding rings for a moment idly, her look lingering on the newest one just added to the collection. She hadn't expected Jack to give her one, but she quietened her doubts about its origin. It was simple enough, with no Celtic motives, no reason for her to suspect loot and question him about it, would be rather bounderish of her too if she did. While she had no idea how he could've acquired the gold band without spending a considerable amount of their precious and vital savings, it would've been untrusting of her to assume its origin being anything sinister. That would be the workings of an old habit, nothing more. She kind of really liked it actually, the 'quicumque ego postulo est vos'-'all that I need is you' inscription was very sweet of him and reminded Claire of her no small achievement of taming that seemingly uncontrollable man. She held the reigns. Only, where was he right now? The newly-wed reached for her petticoats and pulled them on while still under the covers to protect herself from the cold air, her gown however she barely had time for before she heard the unmistakable sounds of retching, coming from outside. Her weariness increasing, she never buckled her shoes to stumble out, hoping the delay to the journey wasn't because Jack was too unwell to continue. "What's wrong?" She rushed to his aid instinctively, one hand going to his arm to support him as he leaned forward on shaky legs, her other hand on his back for comfort.

"Don't." It was all he managed between panting and spitting, but he did shift to pull away and out her arms.

His behaviour puzzled Claire. "What is it?" She hovered on edge, frustrated by perplexity.

"I will be alright in a moment," he promised as soon as he could, though his hand remained firmly digging into his belly, while his other arm he needed to support himself against the wall.

"Don't be ridiculous, let me help." Claire edged closer, itching to get him inside to sit down. Why would he all of a sudden reject her proficiency in dealing with illness when it came to this particular day. "You don't look so good," she reached out again, but he pulled away once more.

"You don't want to touch me right now," Jack straightened and marched off towards the door, albeit going round her, seemingly completely in control of his body for anyone looking, it was only Claire who knew better.

The similarly stubborn woman followed him back inside rather bewildered, "what have you done?" She frowned suspiciously, icicle settling in her stomach in dread.

"The Duke considers my assignment commencing the moment I read this letter," he produced a rolled up sheet of paper from his pocket and eyed it for a bit, motionless and distracted. "I need to get my uniform on," he finally concluded and purposefully stepped to the duffel he carried his belongings in, focusing on something that could ground him and stop him from thinking too much into the situation at hand. The way everything was lost already, he may as well go the full distance and pull that ominous, ill-remembered, fateful clothing item out.

Claire recoiled on instinct, half shaking her head in confusion. Knowing Jack had been postponing the moment as much as she had been, she had to ask, "aren't we still about short of two days away?"

Having no patience for unpacking, Jack poured the contents of the bag out. Having located the offending item, now at the top of the emptied pile, he threw off his woollen vest to replace it with the finely spun version he had for under the coat. With his breeches and his shirt already being the right colour, it was only the scarlet redcoat to follow and then he stood before her like he had been on their first encounter, only...Claire gave a big, relieved sigh and closed the distance between them to put a hand to his cheek. She had dreaded the sight for months and now she knew it would not change a thing. Not with that expression of love and devotion towards her that characterised his every move. Feeling the weight of the moment, she wanted to soften it, "say the words," she suggested, "say it Jack."

"Say what?" He started, narrowing his eyes in question, but then he understood what she wanted. He swallowed and looked into her eyes, "all that I am is yours, Claire Randall Fraser, you know that already," he reached and kissed her hand, gentlemanly, serious, "and I will be, no matter what."

Claire nodded, reassuringly, for both of them and pulled him close for a kiss that was soft and brief because he pulled away, though his mouth lingered a breath from hers for a few moments before he turned to the side and gave himself over to the reality of their lives. He squeezed her hands and transferred a sheet of rough paper into them, ink rather runny with the weather conditions it has been through. "It's a list of the prisoners I am to be in charge of at Ardsmuir." Then he stepped away, and further to the wall, waiting for the fallout, knowing nothing will ever be the same.

The woman he shared his bed with moved towards the window, closer to the light so she could see the scrambled letters. Based on his behaviour, she was expecting to see familiar names on the parchment. However, nothing prepared her for what she saw there, clear as day, written in the careful calligraphic of a skilful scribe, at the top of the list, as principal captive and representative of the rest of the prisoners: 'James Alexander MacKenzie Fraser, Lord Broch Tuarach, known as fearsome Red Jamie, Stuart's right hand.' Claire shook her head in disbelief-no that could not be, she had seen the stone hadn't she, she had even seen a list of captives to be executed, Jamie's name was there, so how could it be here, now? She sank to the bed with the shock, half the clogs of her brain stuck and the other half going a hundred miles an hour, igniting emotions and hopes long forgotten and buried. "How could this be?" She finally voiced what her mind kept going back to, "can he be alive?" And if he was, how will she face him, having lived with Jack for all these years, there would be no excuse or explanation Jamie could understand. Guilt was hitting her hard, for not looking harder, for feeling all the things she hadn't gotten round to name that she had come to feel for Jack. From exhilaration to despair and back again half a dozen times before she actually looked up at Jack for an answer for something that wasn't just her talking to herself.

"I do not know, but it's true." He clasped his hands behind his back to mentally support himself. "The accompanying letter mentions Colonel Hamilton wanting me to be on my guard because of his presence especially, fearing for unrest that had previously been noted at the prison."

"Jamie..." The two syllables expressed everything she had been thinking about and the longing and apprehension with it as well, nothing Jack hadn't thought about before, his stomach still churned with the upheaval of it all. "Oh Jamie," Claire put a hand to her mouth as if keeping the words in could keep from existing all the horrors that the Scotsman could've experienced at the prison and keep the impossible situation they stood in at bay as well. She knew only one thing for sure, that one way or another, she would find a way to free Jamie.

Jack dared to come closer and sit beside her on the bed, albeit further than he otherwise would have, "first we will have to see the place and measure up circumstances to come up with a plan, not acting hotheaded is key," he advised, "nobody should know the nature of the relationship between the primary prisoner and the captain's wife," he tripped on the word. Truthfully, if Jamie was alive, that would make him Claire's second husband, at the same time. So not something that would hold up in a court of law as matrimony. "I'm sure he wouldn't give us away, but perhaps it's better if I arrived on my own to start with. I can prepare him for your arrival then."

Claire made wide eyes, looking at the children who were just stirring at the commotion. Brianna, Jamie's child, raised by Jack and a child she had together with Jamie's sworn enemy. No, she couldn't face him either, not just yet. All of a sudden, the out Jack offered was very convenient. She seriously needed to get herself and a story together and even then, Jamie would never forgive her. "Two days?" She bargained with herself more than anyone else, "it's a nice place, this inn, the children enjoy climbing the old trees in the back. We wait for two days and then we follow you. That should be enough time, right?"

"Yes, it should be," Jack was very grateful Claire had agreed. He had to judge the lie of the land for himself first, Claire's obstinate and chaotic ways would've hindered that. As for Jamie, he would've had to lie to himself if he would've wanted to pretend that the news didn't fill some part of him with joy and yet as always, everything was complicated with that damn Scot. There was no doubt in his mind that this revelation meant that his little, idyllic family would dissipate into the ether like the illusion that it always was. He almost laughed out loud at the irony-he had kept his word to take care of Claire, perhaps a little too well and that was some satisfaction he could rub under Jamie's nose. He stood, not touching Claire for the good bye, their usual intimacy would feel awkward now. "I will send someone out to meet you and assist." With that, he fished his captain's hat out the pile of clothes as well and left to acquire a horse for the last part of his journey.

Tbc