Chapter 42 Part One
It was over.
Jamie's time as a husband was officially over by the strike of a pen.
He was free in every way, his life now completely his own.
So why did he feel so trapped?
Even in his mournful spirit, he kept his word and travelled into the small village outside Lallybroch. The sun was warm and cheerful. A radiant mirror of the young lady Sorcha, whom he had become somewhat acquainted with the day prior.
She stood in her doorway, waving her hand heartily, beckoning her Laird to come in.
"Good day Mistress MacNiven." Jamie grinned, trying his best to appear in just as good a mood as his host.
"M'Laird, thankyou fer gracing me with yer visit." She chirped like a songbird. "Please come in!"
He dismounted Raven, tying him outside and followed her into the cottage. The parlor in which he stood was piled high with scattered bolts of fabric and half finished dresses. Jamie took the time to examine a few while Sorcha searched for her measuring tools and paper.
"My sister was correct, ye are very talented. These are beautiful." Jamie admitted while he gently ran his hands over a crimson gown.
He couldn't help but smirk as a deep blush rose upon her cheeks at the compliment.
"Yer are too kind M'Laird, thankye."
Finally after a few more moments she recovered what she needed for the fitting. She signalled for him to stand on her fitting stool while she brought him the fabric of the Fraser tartan.
"This is correct M'Laird?" She questioned.
Jamie smiled, this time a genuine grin as he sensed the poor girls nerves.
"Yes, it's perfect."
Sorcha finally released her breath, only to have her hands begin to shake as she pulled the tape against his outer pant leg. Careful to make sure the length was just right.
"Calm yerself lass." Jamie chuckled. "Yer more nervous than chicken at supper time."
"I beg yer pardon M'Laird."
"Please, call me Jamie."
Sorcha's eye lit up at the simple gesture. Her hands now dancing along the invisible seams and angles that she would take to construct his new kilt. Her pulse raced and her whole body appeared to flush with color as she accidently grazed his being.
Jamie couldn't hold in his laughter at the poor girls apprehensiveness.
"It is my turn to ask yer pardon lass. I am not laughing at ye I promise. I just...well. Everytime I have had someone tending to me in similar ways as ye are, I usually would be getting a verbal thrashing. Ye are a breath of fresh air mistress." he admitted.
Before too much longer Sorcha had finished all her measurements and had quite a nice conversation with Jamie. He wasn't quite sure why, but as he made his way to leave he felt a bit lighter than when he arrived.
"I look forward to seeing the finished kilt Mistress, and I do hope when ye deliever it ye will join us at Lallybroch for dinner as well."
"I would be honored, M'Laird." She beamed, noticing his cocked eyebrow and smirk as he mounted.
"Jamie.." She added with a bashful grin which dragged a deep laugh from Jamie as he cantered away from the cottage.
When he returned to Lallybroch the staff was all a buzz. Jamie tracked down Ian who was taking a stiff drink in the main room.
"Ian?"
"The bairn's coming." He smiled nervously. Jamie slapped him on the back and poured him another dram.
"Today is a good day then." Jamie smiled, supporting his brother in law.
Hours passed, then a whole day and the only progress Jenny made to bringing her baby into the world was her ever growing screams. What had started off as a good day was quickly turning sour for everyone inside Lallybroch. Fergus tried his best to assist Mrs. Crook with Jenny; as he had seen many a baby born in the brothels he called home in France. But his reassurances to Ian when he reported in did little to calm his nerves. The longer the night stretched on, the more whiskey the men consumed downstairs, and the fewer reports were given.
Eventually Ian and Jamie passed out and when they awoke early the following morning, they discovered no progress had yet been made. Distraction was key to keep the men sane throughout the next day. Jenny's agonizing screams and whimpers could be heard upstairs but no cries of a child ever followed.
It was nearing sundown and almost 48 hours had passed since labor began. Many of the people, Ian and Jamie included, were losing hope when an urgent knock came from the door. Ian burst forth from his chair to see who was calling at such an hour.
The familiar brough echoed into the next room drawing Jamie's attention. As he walked into the room he saw the sullen face of Murtagh clasping hands with a fidgety Ian. But as he glanced at the doorway his heart stopped. Standing behind Murtagh in the blistering rain, hidden in her black hooded cape was Daniea.
