A/N: Ahh, thank you for the so many wonderful, thoughtful reviews! I'm so glad that people are reading & enjoying this story! Sorry for a bit of a long wait between update, but "homeschooling" and working from home has been exhausting! But we continue to be well, so we are grateful despite the parenting struggles. :) Hope everyone is well and staying safe! Would love to know your thoughts on this chapter...after this chapter, we are headed back to Jamie (though he does show up in this chapter) and towards the "gathering" and yes, it's coming to a head with wee Hope's paternity.
Chapter 34:
Eleanor shifted Hope, who was desperately trying to latch while screaming. Eleanor groaned as Hope angrily gnawed at her chest, "Mak. Mama. Hope mak." she screamed.
Eleanor winced as her breasts began to ache. She had felt like it was time to start the weaning process, but Hope was insistent on comfort feeding multiple times a day, all whist throwing her table food that Eleanor had tried her on for the past several months. She shifted Hope on her hip as she left the room and went down the stairs to where John was in his study, looking over pieces of parchment.
"Take her," Eleanor grunted, holding out a flailing baby to her 18th century gentleman husband.
John immediately stood, and sideswept his desk to approach his wife and daughter. "Come here Hope, dearest," John said as he took her from her arms, "What's all this fussing about?"
"Hope! Mak Mama!" Hope cried, pounding her fists against John's chest.
"Are you sure you cannot delay the weaning process for longer?" he asked, frowning. "It cannot be good for her to be this distressed."
Eleanor shot him a disgruntled look, "Yes."
"Very well," John juggled his daughter and then went to sit down on the couch with her, "Hope, my dear, you cannot scream at mama and I like this," he said, soothingly. "There are other foods that you can eat."
"Hope mad!" Hope screamed. She bit at his arm.
"I can ascertain that," John said, dryly and then popped her bottom, "You cannot bite me."
Eleanor's mouth dropped opened. "Where did that come from?"
"Possibly her older brother," John said, shooting Eleanor an exasperated look. "I told you that Sam's behavior would have ramifications on the other children. Hope watches so carefully her brothers and sister. That is why she is so expressive at a young age."
"Both verbally and nonverbally," Eleanor grunted. "I can't even." She took a breath, "I need a moment. Do you have her?"
He nodded and she retreated up the stairs, to her room.
John came and found her a half an hour later out in the garden with Rosie.
Eleanor was sitting, not so ladylike on the ground, leaning against the edge of the stone bench, her large hat tied prettily on her head. Rosie was playing in the dirt, a stick in hand as Eleanor was instructing her with her letters.
Eleanor took the stick from her and made a R. "What letter is that?"
"R," Rosie clapped happily.
"That's right!" Eleanor said, excitedly, "for Rosie!"
John sat down on the bench. "Good job, Rosie."
"Thank you, Papa," Rosie said, sweetly.
Eleanor paused, wondering if she heard Rosie correctly. She looked to John, whose head was titled, contemplatively. Eleanor began to smile, the smile lighting up her face and reaching to those beautiful blue eyes that John adored.
John smiled back at her and then reached down to pat Rosie on the arm. "You are most welcome, my dear."
Eleanor leaned over and kissed her daughter on the head, "I love you so much, Rosie." She smoothed down her curls, "Did you know that?"
"Aye, mama. I ken."
She laughed and then nudged her. "Susanna is walking over there with Hope. Can you go and join her while I talk to Papa for a moment?"
"Aye, mama," Rosie said and then went to kiss her again and then paused. She turned to give John a hug as well. John's arm went around her and held her for a moment.
"Mama is right. We love you very much," John said, his voice low. "Off you go."
She hopped along the path to find Susanna.
Eleanor looked over at John, "Would you mind giving me a hand?"
John looked amused, "Always at your service, Lady John," He rose, bent down and offered her a gallant hand. He helped her balance as she stood. She brushed herself off.
"Your dress is quite dirty," John said, "What am I to do with you?"
Eleanor's look was saucy, "But I wore my hat today, Lord John."
He threw back his head and laughed at her, "Yes, you did that." He led her to sit on the bench. "Next time take a blanket to sit on, won't you?"
She gave an exaggerated sigh, "I suppose if I must."
"Indeed, you must," John said, his mouth still curled in amusement.
Eleanor twisted the ribbon to her hat, "She called you Papa."
John smiled, "Yes, she did."
"That's a really big deal for her," Eleanor said, softly.
"Indeed," he said, quietly. "I am honored."
Eleanor's heart overflowed, "I'm sorry if I snapped at you earlier."
He reached for her hand, squeezing it. "I'm not offended. I can imagine it would be a trying experience for both you and Hope."
"It's just...she's my baby," Eleanor said, "And I don't feel ready...so maybe I got defensive..."
"Then why push yourself?" John asked.
She shrugged, "Because I think it is time. And about Sam...I don't know, John. I think of all they went through...and while I'm so annoyed and frustrated at the moment when they act out, my heart breaks..."
"But we must continue to set those boundaries for them, my darling," John said. "Jamie is right, you want to tie my hands with the children, but he was wrong to think I let you get away with it...well," John gave her a smile, "mostly."
She laughed, "You are very reasonable with me, my dear Lord John." She paused, "How do you think the boys are doing at Fraser's Ridge?"
He squeezed her hand, "I am sure they are having a grand time. Jamie is a good father. You know that as well as I do. You do not need to worry. He'll deal with any trouble fairly."
She nodded.
"You look exhausted," Claire said as Jamie flopped into bed next to her. "Are the boys finally asleep?"
"Aye," he grunted as he rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling, "Good Lord, I canna believe it, but Eleanor was right."
Claire turned onto her side, "What was Eleanor right about?"
"I could beat that child until he couldna sit and his will would still not bend," Jamie said, wryly. "I dinna think it was possible."
"He doesn't seem at all afraid of you," Claire said.
Jamie snorted, "Ye would think he would have a better sense of self perseveration because I ken there is a canny mind in that heid of his..."
"Oh, very much so," Claire agreed, "All of the wee Fraser children are very bright."
"Aye, tis so, they all take after Ellie," he said, "And she was no too gut at bending her will either."
Claire's eyes twinkled, "Jamie Fraser, I do not think the children got their stubborn behavior from their mother. I happen to know their father has that particular proclivity towards stubbornness."
"Oh, ye dinnae say, do ye?" Jamie reached for her.
"I think I do." Claire laughed, "You do know that Eleanor doesn't have to do what you say just because you say it. And to not want to do your bidding, doesn't make her stubborn."
Jamie mocked scowled, "What foolishness are ye talkin about?"
Claire smacked at him. "Lord John clearly doesn't have an issue getting Eleanor to do anything. Have you ever thought why?"
"Oh, now, ye are just rubbin it in, Sassanach," Jamie said, closing his eyes.
"Perhaps, Ellie responds better to a gentler touch," Claire said.
Jamie snorted again. "As Eleanor would say...whatever."
Claire laughed. "Charming."
"I dinna think she says that to John though..." Jamie said, opening an eye, "He is verra intent in making her fit into society. He would scold her for that."
"He wants her to succeed," Claire said. "It's very sweet."
"Aye, tis verra sweet," Jamie said. "But I dinna wish to talk aboot Eleanor and Lord John any longer." He rolled to his side and opened both eyes. He pulled Claire closer into his side and then kissed her soundly.
"Oh, are we done talking now?" Claire said, laughing.
"Aye, ye can say that," Jamie said as he rolled to pull Claire on top of him and ride up the fabric of her shift.
They got wrapped up in each other that they barely heard the trot of little feet across the floor, but managed to cover up before Sam saw anything, his little head peeking around the curtain that separated the spaces in the cabin, the big house still being built.
"Da, what are ye doin to Claire?" Sam asked, his brown hair sticking up in all different directions.
"Givin her a hug," Jamie grunted, "Why are ye out of bed?"
"I need some water," Sam said.
Jamie stifled a groan, "Aye, verra weel. But only a wee sip because I dinna want ye to wet the bed again."
Sam nodded and Jamie rose to guide his son around the curtain to get a glass of water.
"Da?" Sam took a sip.
"What is it?" Jamie asked.
"I miss my mama," Sam said, seriously. "If she was here, Fraser's Ridge would be the best!"
"Aye," Jamie sat down on the bench to the table and then pulled Sam up on his lap, "I think the same, lad."
"Do ye miss mama too?"
"Aye," Jamie nodded, "Verra much. Mama is a verra important part of our family."
"Mama said she missed ye too."
"Oh," Jamie raised an eyebrow, "When did she say that?"
"When it was storming something awful...and then she sung that song to us..."
"Jesus loves me?" Jamie asked.
"No, somethin about raindrops and roses and kittens," Sam said. "She can sing it for ye the next time it is stormin."
"Aye," Jamie chuckled, "I dinna think I have heard that un, but I ken mama is no too fond of storms."
"Aye," Sam nodded, seriously. "I love ye, Da," he leaned to give Jamie a kiss on the cheek. He thought for a moment, "Did ye ever hug mama like ye hug Claire?" he asked, contemplatively.
"Aye," Jamie grunted and then eased him off his lap, "Back to bed, my wee un. I will tell ye all aboot those types of hugs when ye are older."
"What hugs?" Mac asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Ach, Mac, are ye up too now?" Jamie asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Aye, I'm thirsty."
"Verra weel," Jamie poured some water, "Here ye are. Not too much."
"Thank ye, Da," Mac said, "What hugs?"
"Da was hugging Claire," Sam said seriously, "Da, do ye think that Lord John hugs Mama like that too?"
Jamie grunted, "I dinnae ken, ye bhobain. Why are ye asking so many questions tonight?"
"Lord John kisses Mama," Mac said, seriously. "Just like ye used to kiss Mama."
Jamie cleared his throat, choking slightly, "Is that so?" He coughed some more.
"Aye, Lord John said its okay to kiss yer wife...that ye should if ye love them...and he said he loves mama. He told me so."
"When was this?" Jamie cleared his throat further.
"River Run." Mac said, "I saw him kissing Mama and he talked to me aboot it."
"Weel," Jamie let out a long breath, taking the glass from Mac and taking his own long sip before handing it back to his son, "That was verra gut of him to do."
"Aye," Mac said seriously, "And he makes mama happy."
"Do ye think?" Jamie asked, lightly, his composure gathered again.
"Aye, she used to cry and now she doesna...weel only when Sam kicks and hits her and Hope and Rosie holler at the same time."
Jamie grunted and gave Sam a severe look.
"I'm sorry!" Sam pouted, "I get so mad."
"We must work on that, aye?" Jamie said. When Sam nodded, Jamie continued, "Now, I dinnae ken aboot yer mama, but I ken that Lord John is one of my closest friends and I trust him to raise ye wee rascals. And speaking of that, this is enough fer the wee hours of the night." Jamie took both the boys' water cups.
"Ah, now I need to go use the privy," Sam wrinkled his nose.
Jamie rolled his eyes, "Aye, I couldna see that comin," he let out a breath as Claire came out around the curtain. She gave Jamie a small smile.
"You take Sam and I'll tuck Mac back into bed," she said.
"Aye, come on, " Jamie put his hand on Sam's head and guided him towards the door.
As he passed Claire, he said, "I dinnae ken how any un can get hugs around here with wee uns afoot."
She smiled and put her arm around Mac, "It will be very good to get the big house built, won't it? With rooms for all the wee Frasers..."
"Even Mama and Hope?" Sam asked.
"Of course," Jamie said, "They are our family too, are they no?"
Mac looked worried for a moment and Claire put her other arm around him, "What is it, sweetie?" she asked.
"Mama is probably sad without us there," Mac said, seriously.
Claire leaned down to kiss him, "Who wouldn't miss you sweet boys?" she asked. "Your mama would want to know that you are having fun. Maybe we can draw mama a picture and write her a letter tomorrow."
"Aye, I'd like that," Mac nodded.
"Da," Sam tugged on his shirt, "I really got to go."
"Alright, come on, ye wee bhobain" Jamie guided him out the door with one last look at Claire who laughed.
Eleanor bit her lip, pacing the floor of the room she shared with John. She had undressed and put on her nightgown and her dressing robe, even though it was still warm out. She was undeniably nervous and irritated with herself that she was so uneasy about approaching this topic with John. If it was Jamie, it was never an issue between them, maybe the first time, but he was keenly aware being married before the nature of a woman's body. And while John and her had been married over a year, this was the first time the issue came up...undeniably a result of weaning wee Hope.
She took another breath and groaned, frustrated with herself and the situation. And there was no denying she felt miserable, her cycle coming back with a vengeance. On top of a cranky baby who fought her to nurse and Rosie, who missed Jamie and her brothers, and John wanting to entertain tomorrow, she was at her wits end. She went over to the pitcher of water and poured herself a glass.
John came a few minutes later, "Are the girls asleep?" he asked as he began to take off his jacket.
"Yes," She nodded, "So..." she took a breath, steeling her nerves. She was so unsure how to approach this, without being offensive and without embarrassing her refined husband.
John looked over, frowning. "Is something amiss?"
She took a sip of the water she was drinking. "I think I'm going to sleep with Hope tonight. Is that okay with you?"
"Of course," John said, slowly, careful to moderate his tone. He could tell she was unsettled by something, by her stance and the way she slipped into her modern expression. And yet, he couldn't fathom what could be the issue. Since returning from their travels, they had only gotten closer in the two weeks back- physically and emotionally. And yet, for the first time in the over year of marriage, Eleanor wished for her privacy. "Are you well, Ellie?"
"Yes," she struggled, her face flushing, "The weaning process...I'm surprised it was gone so long- with all the others, it wasn't like this...maybe because I'm older...I don't know..." she shrugged, rather hopelessly.
"What are your referring to?" John asked, his brow creased in confusion.
"Nothing," Eleanor said, quickly.
"Are you irritated with me about entertaining tomorrow?"
She shrugged, "I'm not entirely happy about it, but I did agree to it last week, so I can't fault you."
"Are you certain that you are well?" John pressed, unable to hide the frown on his face, "You do not seem like yourself."
"I'll be fine. Sweet dreams, Lord John," she leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight." She went to turn but he reached to grasp her hand, tugging her back around. He dropped her hand to gently touch her face.
They stood there for a few minutes, him gently caressing her face, trying to read her, before realizing his efforts were futile. He said quietly, "Goodnight, my dear."
"Eleanor," John whispered as he sat on her bed with her. "Are you asleep?" He asked, as he held a flickering candle.
"No, not yet, " Eleanor whispered back, "What's wrong?"
"I feel like a fool," he said, "Will you come back to our room? Please?"
"I really shouldn't," she said, biting her lip. "It's not a big deal."
"If that is true, then come back and let us discuss this...as we should, considering we are husband and wife." He titled his head in the candlelight, "I must insist upon it, Lady John."
She sat up and looked at him for a moment, but then he stood and offered his hand to her, "Come, my dearest. I will not bite nor scold."
"Can you hand me my dressing gown?" she asked.
"Of course," He reached for her dressing gown from the end of the bed and handed it to her. She wrapped it around her and then followed him across the sitting room until their shared room. John shut the door behind him.
He put the candle down on the dressing table. He opened his arms, "Come. I need to hold you."
She went to him immediately, his arms gently encasing her. He kissed her on the side of the head, "Why didn't you just say?"
He was being so characteristically sweet and gentle with her that she felt foolish for not saying what the matter was. "I don't know, John. I was so worried I would embarrass you if I did say."
"That is fair," John chuckled, pulling her more securely against him, his arms strong around her, "I did not have sisters, darling. And as you know, the few times Isobel and I shared our marriage bed was not enough for me to ascertain when times might have been more difficult for her as a woman...and to be frank, I have always been far more comfortable with men. But did you truly feel that my sense of propriety would triumph over my husbandly concern for you?"
"I just didn't know what I should do," she whispered. "For the first time in a long time, I felt uncertain with you."
"Ah, my dear," John hugged her tightly, "I'm so very sorry that you were feeling that way. You know I would never wish that for you."
"I didn't know what you did or did not know about how all this works...and how comfortable you would feel discussing it with me. It isn't so secretive in my time...and Jamie was less proper than you are. My body was truly his- he even kept track of everything better than I did. He actually knew when I was pregnant before I did. But I was so sensitive to the fact that it may not be the case for you so it seemed easier just to...retreat...to spare us an awkward conversation."
He pulled away, "I wish to have that uncomfortable conversation now. " He led her to the settee, his arm still around her. He gently pushed her down. "I promise I won't think you to be completely uncouth."
"Uncouth," Eleanor giggled. "I do love your proper talk, Lord John."
He winked at her and then went over to his nightstand, "A drink, dearest?"
She nodded. "I don't feel great, truth be told."
"You poor dear," John frowned, pouring the drinks. "How long have you felt poorly?"
"Came on this afternoon," Eleanor said.
"Ah," John handed her the tumbler of brandy, "That would explain your reserve at supper. You were unusually subdued. I thought it was because Rosie was up in the middle of the night last night and you were overly weary."
"I am overly weary," Eleanor admitted, sipping her drink, "And yet as I was lying in bed, feeling that things were unsettled between us due to my reserve was keeping me up."
John's smile was tender, "I admit the same. Aren't you warm?"
She couldn't deny that she warm- her hair sticking to the name of her neck. "Completely."
John stood and reached for her box of hair pins and retrieved a ribbon. He gestured to her with his head and she turned away from him. He gathered her hair up, twisting it and tying it with a ribbon before gently kissing the nape of her neck. He reached for her hips and turned her back towards him.
"It's far too hot for your dressing gown. We mustn't be impractical here," He scolded mildly as he grasped the tie of her robe, undoing it and allowing it to slip off of her.
"John," Eleanor swallowed hard.
"Eleanor," He gave her bolstering grin, before standing. He went and retrieved a stool. With a pat of his hand, he said. "Put your feet up."
She put her feet up and John went back to sit next to her. "Now," he said, his drink in one hand as his other arm went around her shoulders, "I have questions." He fiddled with her ribbon her hair, massaging her scalp, trying to comfort her with his touch. "Can you humor your very naïve husband?"
Eleanor smiled and John felt the tension go out of her body, "What kind of questions?"
"How come this hasn't happened before now?"
"I honestly don't know," Eleanor said, "I've been so busy I haven't thought much of anything...but it isn't at all usual for me, but not unusual after one gives birth, especially when they are nursing. I was just always plagued not to get much a reprieve...until Hope. I do think maybe its because I'm older, I'm not sure though..."
"Hum," John took a sip of his brandy and then put it down, "Tell me what I need to know."
"How much do you know?"
"Not much," he admitted. "Go ahead. I promise not to become squeamish."
She began to fill John in on the joys of womanhood, and Lord John characteristic to form, took everything with his normal steadiness of nature. His natural curiosity for life led to some gentle questions, which Eleanor answered, comfortable with the easy rapport between them that John had taken such great care in fostering.
And when they talked their fill, John stood. "I do not wish you to retreat to your bedroom during this time. It isn't something that you should be ashamed of...even if it is you being embarrassed of it, on my behalf," he titled his head, "Which I do think we have discussed at lengths before, Eleanor, my darling wife, you making those assumptions and not giving me the opportunity to be the husband that you so deserve."
Eleanor winced, "I wasn't being fair to you. I know that. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
He smiled, "You are forgiven."
"But," she stood and then reached out her hand to poke a finger at his chest, "You said you wouldn't scold."
"And I will not. As long as you get your arse in this bed and let me hold you."
She crawled into bed with him and then sighed contentedly as his arms came around her. She wiggled to try to get comfortable.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
"I would give me right arm for some Tylenol," she said.
"What's that?" John asked.
"A pill you take that relieves pain," she responded. "I think I'm making up for all those months of reprieve."
"My poor Eleanor," he said, "What a trial for you."
"And for you, considering I get cranky around these times."
He chuckled, "I will try to endure your mood the best I can," he said, lightly, in a way she knew he was being sarcastic with her.
"Don't you wish I was a man?" Eleanor said, jokingly and then stilled, realizing the double edged meaning of what she said.
John didn't hesitate, "No, but perhaps you wish to be."
She swallowed hard, "I always said I did during these times." She paused and then whispered, "John" It was almost a plea.
"I mean it, Ellie. If you were a man, it would change you...and I don't love you because of anything other than the person you are has completely endeared yourself to me."
She turned into his arms, "I'm a mess. A complete mess...and the children are so much like me...trying and difficult...and..." she buried her head into his chest and sobbed.
"Why are you crying?"
"You said you wouldn't want to change me," she sobbed.
"Well, truth be told, I wish you would wear your hat outside more. You do look charming in it...and...perhaps you could be a little less stubborn at times," John said as Eleanor laughed though her sobs, "Great God in heaven, it's a good thing, my darling. Stop weeping. You are going into hysterics, which will exasperate your condition. I thought we settled this in the river a few weeks ago."
"No, you said that you wouldn't compare..." Eleanor hiccupped. "My heart is just so torn."
"My darling," John sat up, dragging her up with him. "Why has what I said torn your heart?" He pushed her head up. "Come," he wiped her eyes, "What is it?"
"I love you," she said, "but it is extremely easy to love you...and what I said from the beginning...to trust that this...this glorious, crazy, insane mess that is our family...and the mess than is me...you actually want...and...if you do actually want it...if our love continues to grow deeper and stronger...what does that mean? Because I still love Jamie. And there are moments when I look at our children and I want him still..."
"I know you do," John said, quietly, "I do as well. I can't shake it either, truth be told. So take heart in knowing that I am not the one that will ever chastise you for that..."
"But I don't think I want to ever stop loving him..." Eleanor said, "because then it wasn't real...but it was real...wasn't it real?"
"It will always be so," John gripped her chin, "Your heart healing doesn't make it less real. And our love doesn't depend on you stopping your affection for Jamie. How can you when you share such a past and four children together? And I meant what I said. I do not wish for you to be any different than who you are..." he reached for her hands and kissed each one. "You are my wife. And I am your husband. And I never thought that I could have such a marriage...but we are living this, Eleanor. And no, I would not wish to change trade you for any other person-woman or man..."
"You always know just what to say to me," She sniffed hard. "I'm sorry I am such a mess tonight."
He gave her a smile, "Think nothing of it, my dear."
She leaned over to kiss him, deeply. They kissed for a few minutes before Ellie drew back. "I should go to sleep. Hope has been waking up again in the wee hours of the night."
"Yes, you should," John said, "But you do know...now that you are not nursing, we could assign a person to do night duty with Hope...or any of the wee Fraser children."
Eleanor paused, "Do you mean I would get a full night's rest? I haven't had that in years."
John's eyes twinkled, "Unless your husband decides to wake you...and then I cannot make any guarantee that I would be soothed by anyone except my wife."
"Nor would I wish you to," Ellie grinned. "But I might smack you if you wake me up for that...and I'm tired."
"It's a risk I am willing to take," John said, "You tend to quite accommodating...if I approach it in the right way."
"Which way is that?" Ellie asked.
He jerked his head to a side and she laid down on the bed. He put his arms around her, her back to him again. He whispered in her ear, "All I have to do is this..." he fingered her neckline and slid his hand in, "And you melt."
She groaned. "Point well taken, but...all things considering...I do not think tonight is the night for such attention."
He rested his hands a few more minutes before sliding it out to smack her hip, "Yes, of course...think about the night nurse."
"Yes," she sighed, "Of course. But if one of them really need me..."
"They will be instructed to wake you..." John said, "But the children need to learn to self soothe without you."
"True," she said, softly. "Goodnight, Lord John."
"Pleasant dreams, Lady John," he replied, his arms still around her.
"My darlings!" Eleanor flung her arms around her boys, "How I missed you both! It's been so quiet without you stomping about and making mischief."
"Aye," Murtagh rubbed each of the boy's heads, "Jamie said to tell ye they were verra weel behaved."
Eleanor grinned. "I'm so pleased to hear that," she kissed each of their heads before leaning to give Murtagh a hug, "Thank you for bringing them back to me, Murtagh."
"Aye, my pleasure, lassie," Murtagh said, giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
She leaned down to talk to the boys, "Go find Lord John inside. He is going to be so happy to see you...and Hope, Rosie and William too. We have all missed you so much." She gave them one more kiss before shooing them off.
"You will stay with us for a bit, won't you?" Eleanor turned to Murtagh. "You will be safe here."
Murtagh's eyes twinkled, "Have you asked your husband if he is willing to harbor a fugitive, who is a former prisoner of his? Perhaps he dinna want that influence around the young Earl."
Eleanor rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you will corrupt us all. Please? At least for a few days? I have a room ready for you."
"I dinnae wish to impose."
"Are you not Mac's godfather?" Eleanor said, "Are we not still friends? Family even?"
"Lord John and I do not get along, Eleanor," Murtagh said, bluntly.
"Well," Eleanor looped her arm through his, "Then it is a very good thing that Lord John and I do. If I say this is what I wish, he will not refuse me."
Murtagh shook his head, "Who could refuse you anything, Eleanor? Ah, verra weel. But if I am the cause of martial discord tonight..."
"You won't be," Eleanor said, "Lord John and I hardly ever fight."
"Not like the rows ye and the lad had?" Murtagh asked, amused.
She laughed, "Hardly ever."
"Jamie sent a letter to you and one to Lord John...and Bree and Claire, and Fergus and Marsali."
"Wonderful!" Eleanor said, smiling widely. "I cannot wait to read them." She paused, "Were the boys really completely well behaved?"
Murtagh winked at her, "Dinnae fash, Sam gave Jamie a few moments that I think he wants to forget."
"I shouldn't want that," Eleanor let out her breath, "But if he was a perfect angel for Jamie, then Jamie would think it was me being too permissive..."
"Nah, I dinnae think he thinks that...at least not any more."
Eleanor's eyes widened, "What did he do?"
"Come, lassie," Murtagh put his arm around her, "I'll tell you all aboot it."
"Are you angry at me?" Eleanor asked as she changed her dress for supper, Susanna helping her.
John inclined his head towards Susanna and Eleanor smiled at her, "Thank you. I can finish. Would you mind checking on the children? They are eating supper with us tonight, since it is the boys' first night back."
"Yes, mistress," Susanna curtseyed and left them alone. The door clicked behind her.
"Listen," Eleanor twisted around to try to get her buttons, "He is Mac's godfather and my friend."
"I'm aware," John said, dryly, "All too much," he looked at her for a minute, confounded, "What in God's name are you trying to do?"
"You made me dismiss Susanna!" Eleanor said, blushing. "And this dress has buttons that are hard to get. I wouldn't have chosen this one if I knew that I wouldn't have help! I just want a freaking zipper. Or to wear pants!"
John's eyes twinkled, "Allow me, Lady John."
"No," She said, pointing a finger, "I'm annoyed at you."
"Great God in heaven!" John exclaimed, "Why?"
"Because you are annoyed at me!" Eleanor shot back.
"Do I seem annoyed at you?" John asked, lightly.
"No, but you are very good at hiding your emotions when you wish to," Eleanor said.
John approached her, "Turn around like a good little girl and let me get your buttons."
She scowled at him but did what he wished. "Fine, but I won't have to like it."
He swatted at her arse playfully before fastening her buttons for her. "Now," he whispered in her ear, "I am not angry about it, I was only going to say that if you desired to have Mr. Fitzgibbons stay, you could have talked to be about it before inviting him so I wasn't so blindsided when you mentioned he was staying for a few days."
"He's family."
"I know that," John said, "But considerations have to made since he is a wanted man."
"Jocasta didn't have a problem with him being there... and Auntie is quite proper, would you say?"
"We know the particulars of that association," John said, resting his chin on her shoulder. "And I'd say when it is in regards to your lover, you make exceptions for such things."
"That is true," Eleanor said, "though I have to admit, I didn't see that coming. Jamie's mouth nearly dropped to the ground." She chuckled.
John leaned his head up to kiss the side of her head before straightening, "I think we were all shocked, but regardless," John turned her towards him, and then reached to lift her chin, "You were afraid of what I would say so you decided to circumvent discussing it with me and invite him yourself, knowing I couldn't properly refuse after you did so."
Eleanor looked at John, "You are so damn perceptive all the time."
"Am I right?"
"Yes," she nodded, "We have a saying in my time, it's easier for ask for forgiveness than to beg for permission..." she paused, "not like I should have to ask you for permission..." she paused, uncertain, "I don't, do I?"
He titled his head, "It is our home, but that goes both ways, my dear."
"Jamie always said it was about respect, not obedience."
"And what did you say to that?" John asked.
"I told him to shove it," Eleanor said and John laughed. She continue, "and afterwards I would apologize but say that respect goes both ways."
He kissed her lightly, "I happen to agree with that. But sometimes, you just have to be a big girl, Eleanor, and do what needs to be done even if it is uncomfortable, or even if it leads to you not getting what you want." He kissed again, "That is called being honorable, my love."
His chastisement was so gently given that Eleanor's feeling weren't hurt by it. She knew he was right. She should have run it by him.
"You're right," Eleanor said, putting her hands on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, John."
"Think nothing of it," he said.
At supper, Mac and Sam kept them entertained with stories of Fraser's Ridge, the adults laughing at their animated retellings.
Midway through Rosie began to pout from her spot next to John.
John leaned over to whisper, "What is wrong, Rose?"
"I wanna go see Da, Papa."
Eleanor paused and glanced at Murtagh, who gave Eleanor a small smile.
"And we shall soon, my dear," John patted her arm, "But do not pout, sweetheart."
"Okay," Rosie winkled her nose.
"That is an Eleanor look," Murtagh laughed and Eleanor wrinkled her own nose, causing both Murtagh and John to laugh.
Eleanor rolled her eyes, but told the boys to continue their story.
John closed the book as he sat on Mac's bed. "We are so glad you are home," he said, looking across at Eleanor who was holding Sam. "And Sam."
"The girls aren't nearly as fun as you are," William said from his spot on the rug, stretched out on his stomach.
"Aye, did they cry all the time?" Sam asked.
"Not all the time," William said, "but nearly..."
"That is a bit of an exaggeration, William," Eleanor chided. "And you are so good with them when they are fussing." She smiled at him and he returned her smile.
"Sir?" Mac tugged at John's sleeve, "May I ask ye a question?"
"Most certainty," John said. "You look serious, Mac. What is it?"
"Does Rosie call ye Papa now?" His look was so serious that the rest in the room, paused their side conversations to look at them.
"She does," John said, equally serious. "But..." he paused, looking to Ellie, "you should not feel like you must. She is littler than you, so it is only natural that she would take to doing so."
"I want to," Sam started bouncing on the bed, "May I?"
"Of course, you may, if you wish," John said.
Mac frowned and John put his arm around his stepson. "I know I am not your father, Mac. But I am your stepfather and I do love you and your brother and sisters. I doesn't matter to me what you call me as long as you continue to respect me as you have done very well since I have married your mama."
Mac looked to Eleanor who took great care to keep her face neutral.
"What do you think, Mama?" he asked.
"Oh, Mac, my love," Eleanor said, "I think Lord John is right."
"But William is calling you Mama," Mac said.
"Sometimes," Eleanor said, "And I love that he does," she smiled at William, "but I would love him no matter what he calls me. I think that is what Lord John is saying."
"But we are a family," Mac said, seriously.
"Yes, we are," Eleanor said.
"Do you think Da would be upset if I did?"
Eleanor kissed Sam's head, sideswept William, to sit on the other side of Mac on the bed. She put her arm around him.
"James MacKenzie," she kissed his head, "I saw your father's face when he held you for the first time...and let me tell you...the only thing your Da would ever want us for you and Sam and Rosie is for you to be content...and grow up to be honorable and kind people. And if you show Lord John that respect as your stepfather to call him Papa, he would never think less of you...for he is just as fond as Lord John as all of us."
"Then should we call Claire Mama?" Sam asked.
Eleanor's heart twisted as she fought for the words. John's hand reached behind Mac to touch her back lightly, his fingers dancing, soothing her, compelling her to do what she must.
"If you want," Eleanor said, willing her voice to remain even. "I'm sure she would be honored."
She met John's eyes and he smiled at her.
"I dinna ken if I want to call Claire Mama," Mac said, honestly, "But I'd like to call Lord John Papa fer now."
"Me too then," Sam said, bouncing again on the bed.
Eleanor leaned over to kiss his head, "Sounds good to me," she said, trying not to show any emotion, but one look at John and he could see how relieved she was.
Eleanor found Murtagh outside sitting on the steps. She sat down next to him.
"Are the wee uns in bed?"
"Thank God, yes," Eleanor said, bluntly.
Murtagh threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, lassie. They are somethin else, are they no?"
"I love them to pieces, but I hardly ever get a moment's rest."
"I think the lad realizes how full ye have yer hands from his experience with his wee lads."
"He and Claire had the children for a while though and they were fine."
"There were only three of them then...and they were more subdued after what had happened," Murtagh countered. "It seems like Lord John has adapted to his role weel."
"God bless him, he loves the children so much...and he is so damn patient," Eleanor said, "he puts me to shame often."
"Aye and the wee uns seem to accept him as his stepfather," Murtagh said.
"Sam and Mac asked him if they should call him Papa now that Rose does," Eleanor admitted.
Murtagh looked over at her, "What did he say?"
"That it is up to them," Eleanor said, "Then they asked if they should call Claire Mama."
Murtagh let out a long breath, "It rattled ye, did it no?"
She nodded, "More than I care to admit."
He pulled out a bottle, "Jamie sent this for Lord John, but seeing as ye are his wife..."
Eleanor grinned, "Is it any good?"
"Aye," Murtagh said, "I helped the lad with it."
Eleanor titled her head, "Hand it over then. Let's see if I can get it down without choking..."
"Aye," Murtagh laughed, appreciatively, "but only a bit, lassie. Ye canna hold yer liquor."
"Hold on," Eleanor went inside for a moment and got shot glasses. "Here, have one with me," she said, plopping back down on the steps.
"Aye," Murtagh said as she poured them a drink.
She handed a shot glass to Murtagh and then picked up her own. She clinked his glass.
Murtagh watched her as she took a sputtering drink, "Oh God," Eleanor choked, "it's good, but it's so strong."
"Aye, tis that," Murtagh said, eyeing her, "Dinna fash aboot the wee uns, Eleanor, ye are irreplaceable as their mama. Jamie and Claire both ken that weel."
She nodded, "Thank you for that."
"You're welcome," he nodded at her. "You mentioned that ye and Lord John had been traveling. Where did ye go?"
"Up North to Mount Vernon," Eleanor said, "To visit the Washingtons at their plantation. It was a short trip. The governor of Virginia wished for John to ease tension among the landowners over the English taxes."
"And did he succeed?" Murtagh asked with a raised eyebrow.
"He went at the matter very lightly," Eleanor said, "at my request."
"Ah," Murtagh grinned, "Lord John is verra smitten with ye, then, Eleanor?"
"Or more he knows he would never hear the end of it otherwise," Eleanor said, pouring another shot of whisky and handing it to Murtagh and holding her own.
Murtagh laughed, "I'd say."
She laughed, "No, you were right at River Run. John will not give up his loyalty to the crown and he and I will have a lot to work through when that day comes. But in the meantime, I persuade and coax where I can on behalf of the country that will be one day."
"As ye should, lassie," Murtagh raised his glass to her, "Slangevar"
John came to bed later. Eleanor was sitting on the settee in her nightgown, curled up with a book in her hand, but she wasn't reading, more like staring at the book.
"Is the book not to your liking?" John asked as he began to undress.
"No, it's okay," Eleanor said, her face flushed from the whisky earlier. "I just can't concentrate on it."
"Lost in your thoughts?" John asked, frowning a bit, for when Eleanor slipped into her modern expressions, he knew that she was distressed about something...and he suspected what it was.
"Something like that," Eleanor sighed.
"Oh my dear," John said and went over to where the decanter was sitting on the dresser. He poured Eleanor a drink. "It looks like you need this," he said.
He handed it to her and Eleanor moved to sit up, but John shook his head and gently lifted her legs to sit underneath them, allowing her to drape her legs over him.
"Do you not want one?" Ellie asked, staring into the amber liquid.
"I had one before I came up," John admitted. "As I was reading."
She nodded, but made no move to say anything else, John studying her carefully.
"Was is it, Eleanor?" John finally asked.
"I'm so selfish and a complete hypocrite," Eleanor said, taking a sip.
"You are no such thing," John frowned, "Is this about the children?"
"I want them to call you Papa and I'm so happy they decided to do so," she took a long sip, "Do you want some?" She held out the drink for John. "I really shouldn't drink this all."
"Yes," John said, taking her drink from her to take a sip of his own before handing it back to her. "I'm delighted they have chosen to do so."
"I know, it's great, right?" Eleanor said, taking a large gulp and then another. "Murtagh gave me a wee nip of whisky earlier. Jamie has perfected it. I hardly choked at all, but I do prefer this."
"How much is a wee nip?" John asked, titling his head at her.
"Maybe two shots," Eleanor said.
"Oh dear, let me have that," John took the glass from her, "No more of this. You simply cannot mix your drinks, Ellie."
"Who told you that?" Eleanor frowned, "Jamie?"
"Yes," John said, bluntly, "And common sense. I am not holding your hair tonight while you vomit. Great God in heaven, you also had wine for supper," John swore underneath his breath and gently moved her out of the way to go to pour her a glass of water. He handed it to her, "Drink this whole glass."
'Yes, sir," Eleanor grunted, her nose wrinkling, "You are so bossy at times, Lord John," Ellie drawled.
"I fully admit it," John said, "I was wondering why you are so flushed. Drink, Ellie."
She shook her head, "I'm fine. I'm just hot. I think I am having a hot flash." She transferred the glass to her left hand and began to fan herself with her right hand. "Is it hot in here?"
"Not overly. For as hot as the days are, the nights have been tolerable," John frowned, "What is a hot flash percisely?"
"You know when women get older...it's part of how they change...you know when they can't have children any longer. And I'm getting old. See all this grey?" She showed John her roots of her hair.
"Oh good Lord," John snorted, "You are simply tipsy, my love. Befuddled. Inebriated. Now, drink the damn water."
"Okay, okay," Eleanor grumbled, but drank the water. "Jamie's whisky is strong."
"Yes," John said, dryly, "I do not think that bottle was meant for you. Murtagh should know better."
"Oh, he does," Eleanor nodded, "I think he likes me to be a little less uptight about life."
"I do not doubt it," John retorted. "Why don't you just tell me what is wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Eleanor shrugged, "I absolutely do not want them to call Claire Mama," Eleanor said, taking another large gulp of water. "The thought of it. It creates such a deep reaction within me...of hurt and anger and bitterness." Another gulp, draining the glass, "There, I drank all your damn water," she handed the glass back to John. "Am I awful?"
John paused, weighing his move. He stood and put the tumbler back on the dresser. "Eleanor."
"What?"
"Come, let me hold you," he said, quietly.
Eleanor's heart which was twisted in such a knot of anxiety, suddenly burst. Tears in her eyes, she stood and bridged the gap between them to put herself in his open arms.
"I feel like I am the most awful human being, because I want them to love you like a stepfather, but Claire...they'll love her more, just like Jamie."
"That's simply not possible, darling," John squeezed her tightly, "You are irreplaceable just as Jamie is as their father. And tis not hypocritical at all."
"How do you logic that one out?" Eleanor pulled back to look at him.
"Well," John traced the side of her face with his finger, "we had formed our family, out of necessity and after the dissolvement of your own marriage with Jamie. And the reason it dissolved was because Claire came back and Jamie chose to honor his first marriage...so naturally, you might feel pain at the thought of the children calling her mama." He lifted her chin which had dipped down, "However, one day, you will have to bear it...for the words you said about Jamie is just as true for you. You love them and the love you bear for them is enough to bear the burden of another woman being a mother to them."
She bit her lip, "There is another saying in my time..."
"Oh, what is that?" John asked as he leaned down and kissed her.
"Adulting is hard," Eleanor said, forlorn, "And overrated."
"Adulting?" John laughed. "That's charming." He kissed her again. "It can also be liberating, can it not?"
"If you are a man, I suppose."
"Oh, please," John snorted, "None of that. You are far from oppressed, my darling wife."
"True," Eleanor giggled, "You are quite generous with my troublesome self."
He smirked at her, "Do you know what else adulting is Eleanor?"
"What?" Eleanor asked, still smiling as he grasped her hips and pulled her against him.
"It can also be quite fun, Ellie." His kiss now turned deeper as he held her close to him.
"Hum," she caught her breath as he pulled away, "You don't say."
John pulled away and then offered his hand to her, "Shall we go enjoy the benefits of adulting?"
"I will never deny that adulting with you is quite fun, Lord John," Eleanor said, with a wry smile as she put her hand in his. "But if you truly think me to be tipsy, then should you take me to your bed? I mean is that what a gentleman would do? What about honor and all that sort of cr..." she trailed off at his look.
"Trust me," John countered, "that I know you well enough to know you aren't that far gone, Lady John, especially if you have the wits about you to tease me as you do."
She laughed, "But I do think it was a good thing you took the brandy from me."
"Oh most definitely," John said, tugging her down on the bed with him. "Now, I will not deny that you are a little more relaxed but I only think that might work towards our benefit, do you not?"
"I would suppose it would be an interesting theory to test," Eleanor retorted and then squealed as John toppled her on the bed and rolled over to she was on top of him.
"Let's do put it to the test, Lady John," John said.
"What will you do?" Eleanor asked, as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her, the early morning air cool. "Tryon is not the sort of man to continue to be put off even if Jamie tries. Eventually, Jamie will have to account for what he has done to try to capture you."
"Aye, I ken," Murtagh said, seriously.
"He will not ever stop protecting you," Eleanor said, "nor should he."
"And yet I canna be less than the man that I am, Eleanor," Murtagh said, "I will live...and if necessary...die by my convictions."
Eleanor shook her head, wearily. "You can stay here longer. It has only been a fortnight."
Murtagh smirked, "You are sounding verra much like that proper lady of this time that ye are, lassie."
Eleanor rolled her eyes, "Murtagh..."
"Ye dinnae have to fash aboot me, lassie."
"But I do," Eleanor said. "I fash a lot."
Murtagh gave her a tender smile, his gruff demeanor softening considerably as it often did with her, "Mo buidheig, take care of those wee uns."
"You know I will."
"And," Murtagh reached to put a hand on her arm, "if you are with Tryon again, dinnae encourage him even if it is to do so on mine...and the lad's behalf."
Eleanor winced, "Jamie told you of that supper with Tryon, huh?"
"Aye," Murtagh raised an eyebrow, "He was none too pleased in the retelling either. Ye are right, Tryon is not a man that is used to not getting his way, Eleanor. Ye canna trifle with a man like that, especially when he is used to everyone bowing down to him."
"John would never let him try anything with me."
Murtagh titled his head from side to side, "No, I dinnae think he would. Lord John is verra fierce in his protectiveness over ye."
"Wow," Eleanor smiled, "that's the nicest thing you have ever said about an Englishman."
"And ye take care not to repeat it," he tweaked her nose. "I will give the letters to all at Fraser's Ridge." He mounted the horse. "Goodbye Eleanor."
"Take care, Murtagh," Eleanor said, softly. "Stay safe."
But as he rode away, she knew that was going to prove impossible. And her heart tore a bit knowing what was to come.
A/N: Up next, The Frasers are back together...