The air was growing heavy. It would rain soon. However, I did not care. Instead of hurrying inside, like the rest of Fraser Ridge, I snuggled closer to Jamie. It had been several days since our return from the Gathering, and neither he nor I had had a dull moment since. While Jamie was off tending to the new tenants of Fraser Ridge, I had been overseeing the everyday household affairs.
Jemmy was learning new ways to test everyone's patience. Mrs. Bug, the wife of our newly hired overseer, who was a normally good-natured and patient woman, was even beginning to take a disliking to my grandson. Brianna and Rodger were happily settled. I was glad, my daughter and her new husband had already been through the mill and their marriage had barely begun. Due to Brianna's constant occupation with Jemmy, Rodgers with Jamie, and I with Mrs. Bug, I was exhausted, as was Jamie.
Sitting on that small bench by the door, holding each other made me forget the troubles of the preceding days. The rain came down slowly in thin sheets that looked almost like mist. However, the rain soon turned into big, lumbering drops. Jamie and I became soaking wet. Neither he nor I cared. "Sessenach," he said, "Yer wet." "So are you," I said. We both laughed. Jamie always had that inborn gift for stating the already obvious. Jamie's red locks were now plastered to his face, he sighed as I wiped one rogue strand from his left eye.
In the distance, I could see a dark figure sauntering up the path. As soon as I heard the crude French the figure was singing, I knew it to be Fergus. "Never a bit of peace or quiet," Jamie muttered in contempt. "What are you lookin' for," Jamie inquired of Fergus. "J'allais chercher wee Roger," he replied. Fergus' intermittent French and Scottish were a constant source of amusement. Jamie chuckled. Fergus had come to fetch my son-in-law. What on earth could they do in this downpour? Fergus and Roger were notorious in finding things to do during the oddest of situations. Fishing? Hunting? Swimming? As my guesses got increasingly unfathomable, I looked up to see that Roger and Fergus had already departed and were now running down the pathway.
"What are they doing," I asked Jamie, "and in this weather?" "Well," he replied, "I dinna ken what they are doing. Then again, Sessenach, ye and I are the ones sittin' in the rain." After Jamie spoke, he and I observed several moments of silence.
The sound of three voices suddenly broke our silence. Rodger and Fergus had returned, and with a third man in tow. Holy Hell! The third man was a British officer. I could spot their garb from a mile away, even in the fog. However, the man did seem oddly familiar. His mannerism and almost feminine voice were interesting.
It was none other than Lord John Grey. Jamie winced. I got up and practically ran to John. I did not run out of joy, but rather as motivation for Jamie to get up and greet our new guest, as if we had enough room for him. We were already a full house, adding one would be expensive, but above all else, it would overcrowd our home. Grey was silent after he caught sight of Jamie. Would this be a happy reunion? I shook at the thought of Jamie's last encounter with the young Lord. I would just have to wait...