Autumn 2154

Kisimul Castle, Isle of Barra, Scotland

You are my soulmate, and our souls will be tied together for all of eternity

Forever yours,

J.

He was alive… All this time, he'd been alive and I've been here , trying to live a whole life as barely half of a person when all this time, I could have gone back to him. He would have been furious, I was sure of it, but he was alive , and that was all that mattered to me. He went to Lallybroch - Jenny would likely know what happened to him. I could go back and see him again…

No . Not without Maevis, and she had already been gone for nearly a month. I couldn't leave her here in this war-torn world all by herself… God, had I come only a month earlier, I could have learned that Jamie was alive and then I could have taken Maevis back to her father! That is, if she could even travel through the stones… "Oh, Bride, what should I do?" I asked myself. "My Jamie lives… My children are in Barra and my brother's in bloody prison. Should I go back?" I paused to think for a moment - how current was any of this information? When I had originally gone through the stones, I had left in 2138 and woken up in 1743, a difference of about five years between the two - well, four hundred minus five. When I came back, I had left in 1751 and arrived in 2146 - again, five years. It was currently 2154, and Samhain had already passed so I would have to wait until Beltane in 2155… that meant that I would arrive in 1760.

1760… My grandfather will have been dead for a year. Cailean will have claimed his title as Laird which meant that he couldn't still be in prison and must have been pardoned. Archie will be sixteen and Brèagha will be thirteen - Christ, I've already missed so much time with my children… But what about Jamie? My children would likely still be in Barra, but what about Jamie? Where would he-

I was startled by the sound of my mobile phone ringing and I dropped the letter in my alarm. I reached for it in my pocket and read the caller ID - it was Alexa MacLeod, an important call I could not miss. "Alexa, what's up?" I asked when I answered the phone.

"Just checkin' in, wonderin' when ye'll be on yer way te Stornoway," Alexa replied back to me. Stornoway on the Isle of Harris was where the Scottish military had built their new headquarters after the one in Glasgow had been destroyed.

"Oh, I… Soon, I promise," I said. "I just… needed te fetch somethin'."

"All right, well, hurry on up, will ye? We'll be havin' a meeting at fourteen-hundred te discuss the formation of the army medical division, and yer in charge," Alexa replied rather brusquely.

"They're still lettin' ye lead, ye auld crone? What are ye, sixty?" I teased her.

"Ha, ha. Verra funny. I'm fifty-three, ye wily auld bitch," Alexa replied sarcastically. "Yer not as young as ye used te be, either."

"No, but I'm not yet forty," I told her. "I'll be there within the hour. I've got a helicopter waitin' fer me at the hospital."

"Good, hurry yer arse up," said Alexa, and then she hung up the phone. I glanced back down at the letter, then folded it back up and tucked it away for safekeeping, then pulled my tartan out of the metal box it had been in for the last four hundred years. For its age, it was in remarkable condition, as if no time had passed at all. Of course, textiles of the modern age were much different than those of the past, so it was no surprise that my tartan lasted so long. It had a few tatters in it that I didn't recall it having, but I attributed that to it being nearly four hundred years old at this point. I stood up and wrapped it around my body, fashioning it as I had once before as a warrior. I caught a brief glance of my reflection in the window, then closed my eyes and let out a soft sigh. Oh, where were you, James Alexander Malcolm…


Late Summer 1756

Helwater, Lake District, England

JAMIE POV

"Mackenzie!" came the voice of one of the other grooms that Jamie had come to know in the last two weeks at Helwater. Jamie glanced up from his task, which had been replacing the hay in the stalls for the horses, as Jonah Burnham came into the stables searching for him. "Ah, there you are. Mr. Evans says the master wishes to speak with you."

"Speak wi' me?" Jamie asked.

"Aye, he's returned from Italy, along with his wife and two daughters. Do you remember their names? Mr. Evans asked me to ensure you recall their names," said Burnham, and Jamie struggled to remember.

"Er… It was mentioned te me briefly…" Jamie replied, failing to remember.

"Lady Geneva and Lady Isobel Dunsany," said Burnham. "Best you go. I'll finish up here." Jamie nodded as Burnham took over his task, then made his way to the house, where he met in the study with Lord Dunsany himself. Lord Dunsany was a tall, rounded man with rather high cheekbones and a powdered wig resting on his head. He took in Jamie's tidied up appearance, taking an extra long glance at his red hair tied back in a short queue.

"So, you're the Scottish prisoner?" asked Lord Dunsany as he looked Jamie over. "Do remind me of your name."

"Alexander MacKenzie," Jamie answered, giving a false name that didn't deviate too far from his own. "Yer servant, My Lord."

"Major Grey disclosed to me that you were a soldier and fought in the Rising of '45," said Lord Dunsany, making Jamie slightly nervous.

"Aye, I did, My Lord," he replied honestly.

" But , he also told me that you were an honorable man who spared his life before Prestonpans. I lost my only son there, at Prestonpans. Gordon was a young captain in Bolton's regiment," said Lord Dunsany.

"Aye, many good men were lost te their families in the rebellion. On both sides," Jamie replied. "I lost my uncle, and many verra dear friends."

"Indeed. I respect a man who fights for his cause. Gordon gave his life for what he believed," Lord Dunsany continued. "It was not a cause I would have fought for, but it was one that Gordon held very dear to his heart. I take heart from this; You were defeated, our quarrels are bygone. But I cannot say that Lady Dunsany feels the same. She carries a great hatred for any Jacobite. She had never overcome Gordon's passing."

"The pain of losin' a child never leaves ye, My Lord.. I… I've lost... three children myself. A son te illness, a daughter who was stillborn, and… a child, along wi' my wife," Jamie replied, glancing down at the ground.

"Indeed, it does not. I must offer my condolences to the loss of your wife and children," Lord Dunsany said kindly to Jamie. "Well then. I will simply tell Lady Dunsany that you are a groom heartily recommended by Major Grey, not a prisoner. You'll receive a small stipend for your services. But you are still a prisoner, Mackenzie. Mind you don't forget that."

"Aye, sir," Jamie replied.

"Have you any further questions for me, Mackenzie?" Lord Dunsany asked him.

"I… should like te write te my children, if I may. I still have two livin'," said Jamie.

"I see no reason why not," Lord Dunsany replied. "But where do these children live?"

"They…" Jamie paused. If he said they lived in Barra, it could give away his true identity as Red Jamie. Instead, he let out a soft sigh. "They will have gone abroad, te a place I dinnae ken… They were te stay wi' their uncle and he did not wish te stay in Scotland, but failed te inform me of where."

"I see," said Lord Dunsany. "So I suppose you cannot write to them after all. I am, again, sorry to hear of this. If you have no further questions, Mackenzie, then you are dismissed."

"Thank ye, sir," said Jamie, bowing to him before leaving.


"Mackenzie! Time to draw straws," came the voice of another groom, John Windsor, holding a handful of pieces of straw as the other grooms gathered around him.

"Fer what?" Jamie asked, and Windsor chuckled.

"You'll see," he said, and the men began to pull out their straws. A third groom, William Rowe, a Scottish lowlander, drew the shortest and let out a huff as the other grooms chuckled.

"Best of luck to you, man," said Burnham to Rowe, and another patted him on the back.

"Thanks, lads," said Rowe sarcastically.

"Where is my groom? I'm ready for my ride!" came a shrill, sharp voice from outside of the stalls, and Jamie turned just as a lady dressed in a wool riding habit came stalking into the stables pulling her riding gloves onto her hands. She had the appearance of a stuck up spoiled brat, was easily sixteen or seventeen years of age, and commanded the room as if she was the Lord of the estate and not her father.

"I shall accompany ye, My Lady," said Rowe, masking his disappointment.

"Good. Fetch my palfrey at once," the lady demanded from him.

"Right away, My Lady," said Rowe, going to a specific horse called a palfrey that was used for riding. The horse whinnied and startled, nearly stepping on Rowe, and the lady let out a frustrated huff as she stalked back out of the stables.

"Hurry up , you useless Scotchman," she snapped at Rowe as he led the palfrey out of her stall. The other grooms waited for the lady to mount her horse and once they began to depart, they all crowded outside to watch the lady berate Rowe, chuckling under their breath.

" That , Mackenzie, is Lady Geneva," said Burnham to Jamie, who scoffed lightly to himself. If his daughter spoke to anyone like that, he would tan her hide right in front of everyone.

"Hm. A boot on the hindquarters is what tha' one needs," he replied, and Burnham chuckled.

"The horse? Or my sister?" said an amused, much younger voice behind them, and both Jamie and Burnham turned around with alarm to see young Lady Isobel, who was around Archie's age, thirteen or fourteen, with an amused expression on her face.

"Pardon, My Lady. I... I meant…" Jamie said, his cheeks and ears turning red with the heat of shame.

"I know exactly what you meant," said Lady Isobel with amusement. "But I doubt it would do her any good. My sister is so spoiled, I doubt there is any cure for her."

"May I saddle yer horse, My Lady?" Jamie asked her.

"Oh, I don't ride, I only come down to look at the horses, admire their beauty," Lady Isobel replied, glancing into the stalls to see the horses.

"Aye. They are magnificent," Jamie said in agreement.

"It pains me that my father confines such splendid creatures," said Lady Isobel. "Tell me… Mackenzie, was it?"

"Aye," Jamie replied. "Alexander Mackenzie at yer service, My Lady."

"Oh, I'm not that old yet," Lady Isobel teased him. "I understand you're from Scotland, but you've known Lord John Grey for some time. Did you leave any family behind in Scotland?"

"Aye, some," said Jamie, wondering how much he should tell this young lass, but she seemed harmless enough, and very kind. "I've a son. He's aboot yer age, and a daughter as well who's a wee bit younger."

"Oh, how lovely! But a shame you're not with them," said Lady Isobel. "Perhaps Father could allow you to send for them?"

"Send fer them? Er… no, lass, I dinnae think that wise…" Jamie began to say.

"But why not?" asked Lady Isobel.

"They… I… dinnae quite ken where they are… It's… difficult te explain," Jamie replied, trying to find the best way to explain to this young girl without giving away his status as a prisoner.

"Oh, I suppose that would quite complicate things," said Lady Isobel, seeming to forget about the subject already. "I have heard that you're knowledgeable about horses. Would you mind telling me about them?"

"Certainly," Jamie replied, leading Lady Isobel into the stables. "I'll start by sayin' that I've seen a great many stables, but Helwater's are by far the finest."

"A cage is still a cage," said Lady Isobel with a sigh as Jamie stopped beside a large black stallion.

"This here is a thoroughbred - verra good fer racin' and breedin'," Jamie replied. "This lad's got a duty te-"

"How long were you in the employ of Lord John?" Lady Isobel asked suddenly, interrupting him.

"Er… I was under his… charge… a wee bit over a year," Jamie replied.

"My family has known the Major since he and my brother were youngsters. I find him to be a rare and… interesting person," said Lady Isobel, raising a hand to touch the nose of the horse. "I imagine he'll make someone a good husband."

"Aye," Jamie replied. "I fear that military and marriage arenae easy bedfellows - forgive me, My Lady."

"Were you a soldier?" Lady Isobel asked him curiously.

"I… fought in France fer some time, before the uprisin'," Jamie replied.

"Oh, how noble," Lady Isobel replied, petting the nose of the horse. "The Major's passion does lie in soldiering. His dedication to King and country is one of the things I admire most about him."

"Aye, it is a verra noble thing," said Jamie, watching as Lady Isobel pet the horse.

"What a kindly fellow…" Isobel said quietly to the horse.


May 1757

Jamie stood beside the carriage of a local man known as the Earl of Ellesmere, who was older even than Jamie, though likely middle aged. He watched in silence as the Dunsanys and the Earl of Ellesmere descended down the grand marble stairs leading up to the house, Lord Dunsany kissing up to the auld geezer. "I can't tell you how pleased I am with this arrangement," he was saying to the Earl. Rumour had it that the Earl of Ellesmere had paid Lord Dunsany a great sum of money to marry one of his daughters. "Geneva will be a fitting bride, Your Lordship. We are certain that this match will bring good fortune to both of our families!"

"Hmm. My sister advised me to seek in marriage a lady less... pettish . However, I find Geneva's disposition quite appealing," said the Earl, pinching Geneva's cheek. She faked a smile and then when he turned his back, she scowled at him.

"Oh, Your Lordship, my daughter will not disappoint you, sir," said Lord Dunsany as the Earl continued down the stairs, snapping at his footman.

"Am I to wait all day?" he demanded from the footman, who was loading luggage onto the carriage as Jamie finished preparing the horse.

"Almost finished, My Lord," said the footman, and the Earl's eyes suddenly fell on Jamie, letting out a cackle.

"My God , if a child of mine had hair that color, I'd drown him before he drew his second breath," said the Earl, laughing at his own joke as he turned around to face the Dunsanys again. "Farewell, my dearest. A mere fortnight until you're mine!" As the footman helped the Earl into his carriage, Jamie noticed that Geneva Dunsany's eyes were on him, a strange smirk on her face.

The following day, a traveller came through bearing a letter for Jamie from Lallybroch. He had been writing back and forth to Jenny secretly and sending money back to her, but the problem with doing it secretly was that it often took many weeks to several months for a letter to arrive at Lallybroch and for a letter to be delivered to Jamie, as it all depended on the traveller who carried it. Jamie read the letter happily, enjoying word about his nieces and nephews, how Young Ian was doing and how the English were no longer harassing them, as he had hoped when he turned himself in. What the letters lacked was news of his children - were they writing to Jenny at all? Jamie supposed they really didn't know Jenny all that well, as Brèagha had been born on Barra and only visited Lallybroch once when she was just a bairn and Archie hadn't been to Lallybroch since he was a wee lad. If he ever got the chance to write to his children, which would be better done using couriers considering they lived on an island-

"Ahem!" squeaked out the snobbish voice of Geneva Dunsany, evidently alarming all of the grooms. Jamie stuffed the letter into his coat pocket and jumped up along with the rest of the grooms.

"My Lady! We did not know you were coming," Burnham began to say, but Geneva silenced him by holding up a hand.

"I'm ready for my ride," she said definitely, and then she looked directly at Jamie. "Mackenzie, fetch my palfrey. You will accompany me today." With that said, she strode out of the stables, leaving the other grooms to chuckle at the misfortune Jamie would have to endure. Once he had prepared Lady Geneva's palfrey, he led the horse out of the stables, assisting Lady Geneva onto the horse while Jamie mounted his own. Jamie was forced to endure talk of gossip, mentioning names that Jamie didn't even know, until they were on a path in the woods, when Lady Geneva finally brought up what she evidently wanted to discuss. "What do you think of my betrothed, Mackenzie? The Earl of Ellesmere?"

"It isnae my place te give an opinion, My Lady," Jamie replied, not wanting to tell her what he thought of that foolish, insulting oaf of a man.

"I demand your opinion, Mackenzie. Answer me," Lady Geneva demanded of him, and Jamie had to take a deep breath.

"He appears rather fond of ye," Jamie replied.

"Hmm. His most attractive quality is his wealth," said Lady Geneva with sarcasm. "What do you find attractive?"

"I dinnae think of such things, My Lady-"

"Liar!" Lady Geneva said, cutting him off. "Surely, there must be something you find attractive. Say… brown hair? Blue eyes?"

"I dinnae ken, My Lady," Jamie replied, and Geneva let out a huff and rode ahead of him. "Wait, My Lady! We should turn back, before it gets dark."

"We have time. Besides, you have to do my bidding," said Lady Geneva with a girlish giggle, continuing to ride ahead. Jamie closed his eyes and let out an irritable grunt when she disappeared over the hill, suddenly becoming alarmed when he heard a shrill scream.

"My Lady!" Jamie cried, riding up over the hill and finding Lady Geneva looking unconscious on the ground. He leapt off of his horse and bent down beside her. "My Lady, are ye hurt…"

"My ankle," she muttered weakly, and Jamie bent down to lift her up into her arms, ready to carry her to his horse to take her back to the house, and was suddenly appalled when she began to laugh.

"I knew you'd do as I told you," she said rather smugly, and Jamie let out a frustrated groan and dropped her where he stood, straight into a puddle of mud. Lady Geneva cackled as Jamie climbed his horse and began to ride off to go after her paltry. "I look forward to our next ride!" Like hell ye will , Jamie thought to himself.

Lady Geneva became a thorn in his side quickly, always bothering him when he was busy working to demand he take her on her ride. One of those times, he was out sowing the fields and had removed his shirt in hopes of finding relief from the heat when he heard a girlish giggle, then looked up to find Lady Geneva on her horse with Burnham accompanying her, giving Jamie a flirtatious wave. He ignored her as he returned to his work, but she evidently hung around for several moments longer before continuing with her ride. A few short days before her wedding to the Earl of Ellesmere - a day he was greatly looking forward to, when that wee brat would finally give him peace - he found himself yet again in her company as she cleared her throat. Jamie let out a sigh and stood up straight, turning away from the pile of horse shit he was shovelling into a wheelbarrow.

"You needn't stand on ceremony for my sake, Mackenzie," Lady Geneva teased him. Fine by me, Jamie thought to himself, turning back around to continue his work. "What are you doing?"

"Shoveling shit, My Lady," Jamie said rather impatiently.

"Goodness, such language," said Lady Geneva, moving closer to him and lowering her voice a little. "You understand I could have told my father you dropped me in the mud. You are very fortunate I have such a merciful heart."

"Aye, verra fortunate, My Lady," Jamie replied, trying to ignore her.

"As you know, my wedding is in three days," Lady Geneva said suddenly.

"I wish ye every happiness," Jamie replied.

"Married to a man old enough to be my grandsire? It's a vile agreement," said Lady Geneva. "Have you ever been married, Mackenzie?"

"Aye, I have," Jamie replied as he shovelled another load of shit into the wheelbarrow.

"Then you'll know what to do," said Lady Geneva, "when you come to my bed." Jamie froze, turning around to face her with his eyebrows raised in shock

"Have ye lost yer mind?" Jamie demanded from her. "That is, if ye had one te lose." Lady Geneva gasped at this, raising her fingertips to touch her bottom lip.

"How dare you speak that way to me?" she demanded dramatically.

"No, lass, how dare ye speak that way te me ?" Jamie demanded from her. "A lassie of breedin', makin' indecent proposals te a groom?"

"I am damned if my maidenhead will be given to a depraved old goat like Ellesmere," Lady Geneva snapped at him, and Jamie let out a sharp huff.

"Good day te ye, My Lady," Jamie told her firmly, sticking the shovel into the pile of shit and stalking away.

"You know, I couldn't fathom why someone of Major Grey's standing would spend so much time with a common groom," said Lady Geneva, following him. "He and his brother, Colonel Melton, are staying for the wedding, as they have been dear friends to my family for many years. Now, Colonel Melton was tight-lipped at first, but after a few... well, quite a few glasses of port, I was able to coax a very interesting tale from him…"

"Ye shouldnae have done that," Jamie replied to her, stopping to glare down at her, but she seemed to square up to him like a defiant, stubborn force - in a manner that reminded him of Catrìona, almost.

"Mama would not be at all pleased to know her groomsman is, in truth, a notorious Jacobite soldier who fought in the army responsible for my brother's death," she told him rather snugly. "I am very sure she'd have your parole revoked, incarcerating you once again, Red Jamie ." She produced a bundle of letters with Jamie's name written on them in Jenny's handwriting from her dress. She had been stealing his letters!

"Why, ye filthy wee bitch," Jamie hissed at her, and she let out a crude laugh.

"That language suits you well, Red Jamie," she told him with a taunting tone.

"Look, lass, I'm sorry yer brother died. Truly. I dinnae ken who was responsible fer his death, but it wasnae me. Now, I'll not return to prison," Jamie told her firmly.

"You'd run back to Lallybroch? What a quaint little name," said Lady Geneva, snatching the letters away as Jamie made a grab for them. "Or to… what is it called… Kissy-mule? What a silly name for a castle. Colonel Melton mentioned you were married to another wanted criminal called the Red Witch, and she was from there. Is that where your son is from? Archie ? I believe there's a letter in here from him." Jamie's eyes widened with alarm - this bitch could threaten Jenny fine, he knew she could handle herself, but if she started threatening his children? Oh, he had the right mind to strangle her.

"Give me those right this second," Jamie demanded from her, making another grab for the letters.

"Come to my room. Tonight ," she said firmly. "I do not like being told no."

"So I've seen," Jamie spat through gritted teeth.

"So you'll come, or else I'll tell my mother who you really are and you'll be sent back to prison - and I'll make sure you never see the light of day again." She gave him a smug smile, and then she turned and started to stalk away. "I eagerly await our meeting!" Jamie narrowed his eyes at her retreating form. What an awful, spoiled bitch of a brat she was, but what choice did Jamie have? It was either bed her, or risk going back to prison forever.


Creeping quietly through the corridors at night, Jamie followed Lady Geneva's instructions that she sent in a note to him earlier in the day. Three doors on the left from the top of the staircase . He found the door in question, then quietly knocked. "Come in!" she said eagerly inside, and Jamie quietly pushed open the door, closing it gently behind him. Lady Geneva stood with her hair loose and dressed only in a robe. Her hands were clasped, her fingers fidgeting somewhat nervously. "I'm glad you came... Jamie." Something about that unsettled him.

"Havin' brought me te yer bed by means of threats against my family, I'll not have ye call me by the name they gave me," he told her a bit firmly.

"Oh? What must I call you then?" Lady Geneva asked him.

"Alex. 'Tis my own name as well," Jamie replied, standing as far away from her as possible.

"Very well, Alex. You may disrobe," Lady Geneva told him, then turning away as Jamie began to undress.

"Ye can watch me if ye'd like," he said to her, hoping it would help get this night over with sooner. He didn't look at her as he removed his breeks, and when he removed his shirt, she let out a gasp, likely having seen the scars on his back. "It's all right…Doesnae hurt," he told her, and then he turned to face her, fully nude before her, without looking at her face. Pretend she's Catrìona… "Should get on with this then."

"Yes, of course," said Lady Geneva somewhat nervously as Jamie approached her. She stared down at him, her eyes wide at the appearance of his cock. She then lifted her head and reached out a hand to touch his chest, then she untied her robe and let it slip from her shoulders. Jamie had to admit that she was a very bonny lass, but she wasn't Catrìona. Her breasts were immature and young, as they should be in someone as young as Geneva, and her body was relatively… girlish. Though she was eighteen years of age, she was no woman. How could Jamie pretend that this was his beautiful wife? A real woman, with womanly curves and the very natural scent of a woman - Geneva smelled of floral perfume, nothing natural at all.

"May I touch ye... My Lady?" Jamie asked her, forcing himself to stop comparing her to Catrìona. Pretend yer nineteen, and ye've met Catrìona fer the first time as a teenager… She nodded. He closed his eyes, then raised one hand to touch her breast. She let out a small gasp as Jamie began to knead her small breast like dough.

"I… I don't know what to do," she said quietly.

"We dinnae have te do this," Jamie told her, hoping she would prefer that. "Change yer mind if ye want."

" No ," said Lady Geneva stubbornly. "I'm doing this for myself. I want my first time to be with someone like you."

"Aye," said Jamie, giving up all hope that she'd forget about this whole thing. "Well, the first time can often be... vexin'. The first time I laid wi' my wife… I was a wee bit nervous myself."

"You were?" Geneva asked him. "Were you a virgin?"

"Aye, I was," Jamie replied. "She wasnae, through no fault of her own… but she kent a thing or two aboot what te do, and thank Christ fer that."

"Oh… Good," said Geneva. "Will you… show me how it's done?" Jamie let his eyes fall closed again, pretending once again that this lass in his arms was his wife. Geneva felt almost like Catrìona had the first time they had lain together, but this time, it was Jamie who had the experience, and Catrìona was the virgin. He kissed her, squeezing one breast with one hand while feeling her body with his other. He led the pair of them back to the bed, laying his partner down onto the mattress and moving his lips from hers down to her neck, then her collarbone, then her nipple.

"Will it hurt much?" Geneva asked suddenly in her English accent, reminding Jamie once again that she was not Catrìona.

"I… I think not. If I take my time," Jamie replied. And that he did, all while trying hard to pretend that this was Catrìona on their wedding night. She moved clumsily with him, same as he once had during his first time, but she moaned, grunted, groaned and squeaked in a manner similar to Catrìona. The noises were somewhat different, but it was easy to ignore that fact as Jamie moved within her. Never had he bedded a virgin before, and he'd heard myths of the power one could feel from being the first to penetrate a virgin, but to Jamie, it felt the same - no better, and no worse. Once he could feel the end in reach, he brought his hand down to help his partner to find her way to her climax, and then she cried out. Jamie collapsed on top of her, rolling off of her and lying on his back to stare up at the ridiculously ostentatious top of the four-poster bed. He was not in bed with Catrìona.

"That… whoa…" Lady Geneva said, curling up beside Jamie and running her hand up and down his chest.

"Did I hurt ye?" Jamie asked her.

"It was painful at first… But then I liked it," Lady Geneva answered him, letting out a dreamy sigh. "I love you, Alex…"

"No, ye dinnae," Jamie replied. "What ye feel isnae not love, My Lady. It's just the feelin's I've roused in yer body. It's strong, but it's no' the same thing as love."

"How could it not be?" Lady Geneva asked him dreamily. "What is the difference between them, then?" Jamie let out a soft sigh.

"This... What ye feel fer me now, ye could have with any other man. It's not particular," Jamie told her. "And love… Love is... when ye give yer heart and soul te another, and they give ye theirs in return."

"Did you love your wife, Alex? Truly?" asked Lady Geneva, and for a moment, Jamie was silent.

"Aye," he replied. "Aye, I did… I still do. I dinnae think I could ever love another the same."


9 January, 1758

Nine months had passed since the night Jamie went to the bed of Lady Geneva, and claimed the first of many letters both from Jenny and his son that he hadn't received. Evidently, Jenny had written to Archie and Brèagha about her arrangement with travellers to bring letters to Jamie, and Archie had taken to writing letters to Jenny who included his letter with hers to Jamie.

Everything is well, Da. I have learned how to sail and Grandsire let me captain a small sloop to Skye two months past. He said I did very well. Brèagha sends her love as well, and asked me to include a painting she made of her cat, Count D'Elmont. She named him after a character in some silly book she likes called 'Love in Excess'. Auntie Saoirse is expecting another bairn soon. Uncle Cailean says it'll come in about a month maybe. Caoimhe is excited and hopes for a little sister, while Cillian wants a little brother and Calum doesn't care. I'll write again as soon as it's born, but I'm not sure when you'll even receive it. I hope you write soon, Da. I miss you and Mama very much.

- Archie

Jamie smiled warmly as he read the letter from his son, still youthful, but mature. It felt maddening to him to think that Archie was fourteen now, but it came as no surprise to Jamie - Archie was seven, nearly eight, when Jamie had last seen him. Now, he likely was nearly as tall as Jamie. He then unfolded the painting of the cat that Archie had mentioned, and it was actually fairly good. It was a grey cat with a bit of white and was sat in one of the windows at Cìosamul Castle, the bay visible behind it. Brèagha's skills with art were unmatched, in Jamie's opinion, as how many children could perfect lighting in such a way as Brèagha had? The letter had been dated the fifteenth of August, meaning that Saoirse likely had already had the bairn by January. Jamie couldn't help but wonder if it was a wee lad or a lass, and whether he or she looked more like Cailean or Saoirse-

"Mr. Mackenzie!" Lady Isobel's voice suddenly cried, and he jumped when he heard her banging on the door to his quarters rather urgently. Jamie set aside the letter and threw open the door, finding young Lady Isobel with a panicked expression on her face. "Mr. Mackenzie! Get the horses and prepare the carriage. You must accompany us to Ellesmere. My sister, she's in distress!"

"Aye, My Lady, right away," Jamie replied, bolting out of the room with Lady Isobel on his heels.

"We've heard word she's about to give birth. All is not well with her. We must make haste!" Isobel exclaimed as she followed him. Jamie had the carriage prepared in record time and with Burnham and Rowe, drove the carriage with urgency to the Ellesmere estate with the Dunsanys inside. As the hours passed, he waited impatiently with Burnham and Rowe, and then a servant appeared carrying what looked like bloodstained linens.

"How is Lady Geneva?" Jamie asked the servant.

"She's still got the bleeding, sir, God bless her," the maidservant told him.

"And the child?" Jamie asked, having a strange feeling in his gut about the child.

"Oh, he's a fine healthy boy," said the maidservant. "But Master isn't very thrilled. You see there's talk that he is unable to sire children." The maidservant lowered her voice to a whisper. "There is talk that the child isn't his!" She continued on her merry way, and Jamie's heart sank - unless Lady Geneva found a servant to harass and bed here at the Ellesmere estate, he had suspicions that the child could possibly be born with shockingly red hair.

More hours passed, and as Jamie continued to pace the corridors, he suddenly came across Lady Isobel sobbing as she sat on a stone bench outside of the chapel. "Lady Isobel," Jamie said when he saw her. "Are ye all right, My Lady?" She wiped her eyes, sniffling as she dropped her hands into her lap.

"My sister is dead…" she said quietly. "We thought she would be all right. She was sitting up, holding the baby, laughing…" She brought her handkerchief back to her nose, wiping at a bit of snot. "But then she started to bleed again. The physician did everything he could." She broke out into a sob again. "Ellesmere… knew… the child wasn't his... And I knew it too…" She waited until her sobbing subsided, and then she looked up at Jamie, her eyes narrowed. "Do not feign ignorance. She was in love with you. She said that you laid with her." At this, Jamie's stomach leapt up into his chest. If Lady Isobel knew, who else would?

"Er… I… I can explain…" Jamie began.

"She made me swear not to tell anyone," Lady Isobel said to him sharply "It's your fault, isn't it? Isn't it ?"

"My Lady… I… I cannae make excuses fer-" Jamie began, but was then interrupted by an English servant of Ellesmere's racing down the corridor.

"Mr. Mackenzie! Mr. Mackenzie!" cried the lad. "Your master is asking for you, come quickly! There's trouble about!"

"Christ," Jamie muttered under his breath, following the servant up the stairs. He could already hear the shouting echoing off of the walls, and the Earl of Ellesmere sounded furious.

"You promised me a virgin! What I got was a whore!" shouted Ellesmere, clearly drunk.

"How dare you?" Lady Dunsany's voice followed as Jamie was led into the room by the young lad. Ellesmere was standing on the other side, his wig askew, holding the screaming bairn in his arms with a knife pointed at the Dunsanys, and Lord Dunsany was pointing a pistol back at him.

"It's a bastard she's given me! And I'll not grieve for a woman soiled by the cock of another man!" Ellesmere shouted at the Dunsanys.

"That you can have the sheer heartless effrontery to make such accusations! And my poor lamb not yet cold in her bed!" shouted Lord Dunsany back at the Earl.

"You blaggard! You poltroon! You seem damn sure of your daughter's purity!" Ellesmere shouted at him. "Are you certain the brat isn't yours ?" Lady Dunsany gasped in shock at this accusation.

"You heartless beast!" shouted Lord Dunsany.

"My Lord!" Jamie cried out, interrupting the argument. "Hand me the weapon, both of ye, if ye'll please."

"We shall put our weapon down, but we need you to do the same, sir," said Dunsany to Ellesmere.

"Please. Fer the baby," Jamie said, noticing how Ellesmere was holding onto the child tightly - Jamie's child?

"Your Lordship, let us take the child so that you may mourn in peace!" Lady Dunsany begged Ellesmere.

"You will go!" Ellesmere spat at her.

"We are not leaving here without the baby!" Lord Dunsany spat back.

"Go to Hell! I'll kill the bastard before I let you have him!" shouted Ellesmere, now pointing the knife at the child. It was as if time had slowed; Lady Dunsany cried out a shrill scream, and Jamie dove for the pistol in Lord Dunsany's hand. He snatched it away, pointed it at Ellesmere and fired, earning another scream from Lady Dunsany as Jamie dove for the child before he fell.

"Yer all right… There ye are, all is well," Jamie whispered quietly to the bairn, standing up with the bairn in his arms and looking into his little face. The lad stopped crying once he saw Jamie, and Jamie glanced down into a pair of slanted blue eyes - Fraser eyes - and took note of the mop of dark hair on his head. Thank Christ is isnae red , Jamie thought to himself as time resumed, and Lady Dunsany ran to Jamie and took the bairn from him.

"Oh, the poor thing!" she cried, returning to her husband with the child. Lord Dunsany glanced at the body of the Earl of Ellesmere, then exchanged a look with Jamie, who nodded subtly and made his way out of the room.


A week had passed since the birth of the wee lad, and the deaths of Lady Geneva and the Earl of Ellesmere. Jamie couldn't help but wonder if killing the Earl would come back to bite him in the arse, but as of yet, there have been no attempts made to arrest him. He was returning to the stables from the nearby town, having made inquiries about iron for new shoes for the horses, when he came across Lady Isobel and Lady Dunsany pushing a carriage, likely carrying the wee bairn. "Oh, Mackenzie!" Lady Isobel cried, pushing the pram closer to Jamie while Lady Dunsany hung behind.

"Lady Isobel," said Jamie, glancing down at the wee lad and smiling at him. "How is the wee one?"

"Oh, he's perfect, but longs for his mother, as any baby would," said Lady Isobel, laying a hand down on the wee lad's belly. "We named him William, after my father. I call him Willie." At this, Jamie couldn't help but smile - had he had another son, he would have named the lad 'Willie' as well, after his brother, whom he had loved and adored.

"'Tis a fine name," Jamie replied as wee Willie began to fuss. Jamie gave the lad his finger, and wee Willie grasped it firmly.

"I must apologize," Lady Isobel said suddenly. "I was... very angry that morning, mad with grief… I needed someone to blame, but… it wasn't your fault." Jamie glanced up to meet her sweet hazel eyes. "My sister was a difficult woman and you were kind to her."

"Sometimes, I… find that difficult people have reasons fer such difficulty," said Jamie in an attempt at providing comfort, and then he looked down at the young lad as Lady Isobel heard her mother call to her and returned to her. "Yer a braw laddie... Willie. You're so wee. Dinnae fash yerself." Jamie felt the burn of tears of joy in his throat, then sniffed lightly. "I am here." He glanced up when he heard footsteps approach and found himself meeting the hazel eyes of Lady Dunsany.

"I asked Isobel to allow us a moment," she told him, a serious expression on her face. "The coroner's court has met. The verdict is that the Earl of Ellesmere met his death... by misadventure."

"I… I see…" Jamie replied a bit meekly.

"The coroner's theory was that he was... distraught... over his wife's sudden death and therefore met his own end," Lady Dunsany continued. "We're very grateful to you, Mr. Mackenzie."

"Thank ye, Yer Ladyship," Jamie said to her.

"I know who you are," said Lady Dunsany suddenly. "Not your name, but that you were one of Major Grey's Jacobite prisoners."

"Oh… I… Hope ye forgive the deception, Yer Ladyship," Jamie replied.

"My husband has considerable influence in London. I'm sure he would speak on your behalf to have you released from the conditions of your parole," Lady Dunsany said to him. "So... I've come to ask you... Would you like to go home, to Scotland?" Jamie paused for a second - home to Scotland? To Jenny and Ian, to Lallybroch… He'd be free to go to Barra, too, fetch Archie and Brèagha. He could take them to Lallybroch, start a home, restart his family… But then he looked down at wee Willie, so small and innocent, alone in the world. Archie and Brèagha were nearly grown, while wee Willie was just a bairn. Perhaps… Jamie could stay, just for a few years, until Willie was a wee bit older.

"Thank ye, Yer Ladyship, but I willnae go... just yet," he replied almost automatically.

"Why not?" Lady Dunsany asked him.

"Times are hard there, and I've been able te send some money back fer my family. I would like te continue in yer service, if ye have no objection," Jamie told her, and that was a good point, too - he was able to provide much needed additional income for Jenny.

"As you wish, Mr. Mackenzie, but when you are ready to leave, you have only to ask," Lady Dunsany said to him.

"I do have one request te ask," Jamie said, the idea suddenly popping into his head. Why not have a little bit of the best of both worlds? "May I… May I send fer my children?"


Late February, 1758

Cìosamul Castle, Isle of Barra, Scotland

ARCHIE POV

"Come on, Brèagha, I've sat fer enough portraits," Archie said to his sister irritably, trying to avoid her, but she was tight on his tail.

"Just one more, Archie. Please? I cannae do ye justice if I cannae practice on ye!" Brèagha begged him, and Archie let out a huff.

"It's always just one more, Bree," Archie said to her. "Wait until summer. If I have te sit fer another, I'd rather do it outside, aye?"

"Perfect!" Brèagha exclaimed excitedly.

"Ah, and here they are," the two Fraser children heard their grandsire say, and they both glanced up to see their grandfather and Cailean entering the room, a strange man accompanied by Captain Reynolds behind them.

"My God, do they have the look of him," said the man in an English accent, his eyes wide with amazement as he took in the two Frasers.

"Archie, Brèagha, this is Major John Grey, he is a friend of yer father's," Grandsire said to them, and Brèagha and Archie exchanged a brief look.

"A friend of Jamie's, aye?" Cailean asked suspiciously.

"Red Jamie and the Black Fowlis. It's a shame we can't track down the Red Witch. Then we'd have the whole set, wouldn't we?" chimed in Captain Reynolds, but he was ignored. Archie narrowed his eyes briefly at Major Grey, not quite sure if he could trust the man, and when Major Grey noticed this, his cheeks seemed to turn pink.

"Oh, surely, you do not believe me. I cannot blame you," said Major Grey, fumbling in his pockets and pulling out a letter. "Archie, was it? Your father has told me so much about you. I expected you to look more like him, but it seems you have your mother's appearance."

"Aye, so I've been told," said Archie in response.

"Your father wrote this and asked for me to deliver it to you," said Major Grey, handing Archie the letter, and Archie unfolded it to find it was written in perfect Gaelic, something that he doubted this English man could do.

"What does it say, Archie?" Brèagha asked him as Archie's grey eyes scanned over it:

My bairns, I hope this reaches you quickly. I am sorry I could not write, but I have spent many a year in Ardsmuir Prison - your uncle will know it. This last year, I have been at an English estate called Helwater as a groom, and I've just been informed that I may send for you both. I hope you will join me here, I have missed you both sorely. Yours, Da

"Aye, it's him," Archie said when he finished reading it. "Has… Has Da really been in prison all this time?"

"He was imprisoned at Ardsmuir for three years, but has been serving his time as a groom at an estate of a family friend of mine," Major Grey replied to Archie. "You see, I met your father likely when you were very young, Mr. Fraser, before the Battle of Prestonpans in '45. I was sixteen, and he spared my life. We met again a decade later when I became the Governor of Ardsmuir Prison."

"Auld Quarry's gone, is he?" Cailean asked him.

"Ardsmuir is actually no longer a prison," Major Grey replied. "The prisoners were sent to the colonies as indentured servants." At this, Cailean's eyes widened a bit.

"Why, ye damned bastards," he said a bit quietly.

"Watch yer tongue, lad," Grandsire said to him sharply. "I dinnae care if yer five or five-and-thirty, ye'll do as yer told." Captain Reynolds did his best to conceal a snort of laughter, and Cailean sent a filthy glare at him.

"Anywho," said Major Grey, directing his attention back to Archie and his sister. "Your father has asked me to come and fetch you to him, if you would be so inclined as to join him." Archie glanced back down at the letter in his hands, then again up at Major Grey, and then at Uncle Cailean. Cailean had dark rings under his eyes - he'd been a widower these last five months, and seemed not to sleep an ounce. Archie heard whispers from the chambermaids that the bedchamber he had once shared with Aunt Saoirse appeared to be untouched. Where was Cailean sleeping if he wasn't sleeping there?

"I… I dinnae ken," Archie said, meeting the eyes of first his Grandsire and then Major Grey. "My Aunt has… just passed this past September. I… I worry aboot my uncle."

"Och, laddie," said Cailean. "I'm touched, but ye dinnae need te fash aboot me, Archie."

"Have ye even been sleepin', Uncle?" Archie asked him, the only one daring enough to ask him such a question.

"I… sleep when I can," Cailean replied, a little taken aback. "But yer father needs ye more than I do, and besides, I've got Caoimhe, Cillian, Calum and Riona te keep me busy, aye?" He tried to give Archie a cheeky smile, but Archie was clever enough to see right through it.

"No," he said. "I want te be with Da… but I dinnae believe ye, Uncle. Sorry."

"I'll stay," Brèagha said to Archie. "Ye should… go be with Da."

"Are ye sure, Bree?" Archie asked her, and she nodded, her red curls bouncing with her bobbing head.

"Aye, I'll look after Uncle Cailean," said Brèagha, and then she looked to her uncle and put her hands on her hips. "Ye will sleep if I have anythin' te say aboot it." Cailean couldn't help but smile and chuckle.

"Aye… Yer mother would have said the same," Cailean replied.

"All right, then," Archie said. "But ye must write te me weekly, and I'll do the same. I want te hear everrathin', do ye hear me, Brèagha?"

"Aye, I will, Mam," Brèagha said, mimicking something she used to hear their mother say to Cailean or their father whenever they told her to do something, and Archie shook his head and smiled.

"Good," Archie said.

"Excellent," said Major Grey. "Lord Fowlis, could you charter a ship for our return? I believe it will be quicker for us to sail to Whitehaven."

"I'll have my nephew arrange fer it," said Grandsire.

"Major Grey, before you go, may I offer you a glass of sherry in my quarters?" asked Captain Reynolds, following Major Grey out of the room.

"I'll send fer Alasdair," Cailean said to Grandsire, and Brèagha cleared her throat.

"Ahem, seein' as I've now been appointed te keep an eye on ye, Uncle Cailean, I'll be comin' with ye," she said.

"As the warden says," said Cailean, and Brèagha bounded out of the room after him, leaving just Archie and his grandsire behind.

"Yer doin' right by yer father, lad. It'll be good fer him te have ye with him," Grandsire told him, affectionately squeezing Archie's shoulder. "Ye've grown into a fine young man, ye have. Verra selfless, just like the Fowlis ye were born te be."

"I'm not quite so sure I'm ready te leave," Archie confessed to him. "Nearly eleven years, I've been here, and te leave it fer who kens how long…" Archie let out a soft sigh. "Is the Lake District verra far inland?"

"Not too far," Grandsire told him. "Aye, whenever I've ventured far from the sea, I've missed the scent of the seasalt and brine in the air. Dinnae miss the scent of decayin' fish much." Archie chuckled at that.

"Aye… I suppose the furthest I've ever been from the sea was Lallybroch, but I dinnae remember much. I was so verra young when I was there last," Archie replied. "I'll miss ye, Grandsire."

"I'm never too far away, laddie, but aye, I'll miss ye verra much, too," Grandsire replied, pulling Archie into a firm hug. "I'll miss havin' my wee red-haired laddie shadowin' me, though ye've no' been verra wee in quite some time, have ye?"

"No, I suppose not," Archie replied, hugging his grandfather back. "What'll Da think of me? Last he saw me, I was just a lad."

"He'll be proud of the man ye've become," Grandsire said, kissing the top of Archie's head and ruffling his hair. "Go and pack yer things, then. Dinnae worry aboot me, a ghille ruadh , yer sister will take care of me, same as she'll do fer yer uncle."

"Aye, I ken she will," Archie replied. "I'll write te ye everra week."

"Then I shall look forward te hearin' all aboot yer experiences in the Lake District," Grandsire told him. "I love ye, wee lad. Ye'll make yer father proud." Archie hugged his grandsire tightly, unable to quell the feeling that this would be the last he'd ever see of his grandfather - great grandfather, actually. Eairdsidh Ruadh Fowlis was a lucky man, living into his seventies when most men hardly lived past forty, but it seemed that longevity ran in the Fowlis family. Archie had taken a walk around the cemetery where all the Lairds were buried, finding that most of them, as well as their families, lived into their fifties, sixties, even seventies, eighties and, though more rarely, into their nineties. Would Archie live a long life such as those?

It was hard for him to say goodbye to his family in Barra, but a large part of him was very excited to see his father again. It had been seven years since Archie had last seen his father, and to see him again brought him great joy. Brèagha cried when she hugged her brother goodbye, not having been separated from him at all in all of her eleven years, and Caoimhe cried because Brèagha did. Cillian, ever since Aunt Saoirse had died, had been relatively quiet and meek, but did hug Archie goodbye, and Uncle Cailean gave him the firmest hug out of all of them. "Take care of yer father, a ghille ," Cailean whispered to him as he embraced his nephew.

"I will, Uncle. Ye take care of Grandsire," Archie said back to him.

"Ye can count on me fer that," Cailean replied, squeezing his nephew's shoulders affectionately, and then Archie was watching them from the ship, waving goodbye as he watched them shrink until Barra was far off in the distance.


28 February, 1758

Helwater, Lake District, England

JAMIE POV

Jamie waited impatiently for news about his children coming to join him. Every day, he would keep an eye on the road looking for the defining red of either Archie's or Brèagha's hair. He hadn't seen either of his children in over seven years, since Archie was nearly eight and Brèagha was five. Christ, they'll be so big… Both of them will have grown so much, as children at those young ages did. Would they remember him? Did they miss him?

"Oi, Mackenzie!" Rowe said to Jamie, drawing his attention to the man. "Ye said ye were expectin' yer children soon?"

"Aye, I am," Jamie replied to him.

"I've heard word aboot Major Grey bein' spotted wi' a red-haired lad on the road," Rowe told him, and Jamie's eyes widened, his heart nearly stopping. Archie…

"Th-Thank ye, Rowe," Jamie said to him, and he immediately jumped up, saddled a horse as quickly as he could and climbed up onto its back, riding out as quickly as the horse would go to the road to meet them. As he came around the bend, he could see in the distance two horses coming down the path, one rider wearing a dark cloak and a tricorn hat, and the other with a bright red mass on his head. "Archie!" Jamie called as the horse's hooves pounded the ground with every step.

"Da!" he heard Archie call back to him in a much lower voice that Jamie didn't recognise to be his son's, but he didn't care; his son was right there in front of him and Jamie was so excited to see him again. Archie had climbed down from the horse as well, running to meet Jamie halfway on the road and when they met, Jamie threw his arms around Archie, squeezing him tightly and refusing to let go of the lad.

"Archie, my lad!" Jamie cried, his voice cracking as tears of joy leaked out of his eyes. "Oh, Christ, yer so big! Come here and let me have a look at ye!" Jamie pulled back from the embrace and captured Archie's face between his hands, meeting the silvery eyes of his now fourteen-year-old son, who was already nearly as tall as he was. "Oh, blessed Christ, ye've grown so much… Is it really you, mo ghille ?"

"Aye, Da, it's me," Archie said to him, a wide smile plastered onto his face - the smile of Eairdsidh Ruadh Fowlis, shared with his mother as well.

"Christ, look at ye…" Jamie said, leaning his forehead against his son's.

"Ye dinnae look so bad yerself, Da," Archie told him, and Jamie couldn't help but laugh, feeling more joy than he ever had in the last seven years.

"I dinnae look too auld?" Jamie asked him.

"Not yet, I'd say," Archie replied, and Jamie tightly grasped Archie's face and kissed his cheeks, then his forehead, and then his nose. "Da!"

"Hush, my wee laddie, I've not seen ye in seven years!" Jamie told him. "Christ, I love ye so much… Is Brèagha here? Where's your sister?"

"Oh, she opted te stay behind," Archie told him as Jamie looked over Archie's shoulder, then Jamie turned his attention back to his son, his smile fading.

"What do ye mean? She doesnae want te be with her father?" Jamie asked him.

"It isnae that at all," Archie said, and then he let out a sigh. "Auntie Saoirse, she… She died, Da, last September, when she had the bairn. It was a wee lass, and Uncle Cailean named her Riona, after Mama."

"Oh, no, dinnae say it is so!" Jamie said, feeling the pain of her loss. "Yer auntie was such a fine woman, tha's a true shame te lose her. I imagine the world is much darker fer yer uncle now."

"Aye, and I didnae want te leave him, he's no' been verra well at all since she died, and Cillian and Caoimhe and Calum, as well, are only bairns, they shouldnae have te take care of their father, but Brèagha said she would, and Uncle Cailean was right te say that ye needed me, as well," Archie explained to him.

"Aye, that I do," Jamie told him, gently touching Archie's face as the smile stretched again on his face. "Ye've grown te look so much like yer mother… Or yer Grandsire, I suppose. How is he?"

"He's doin' well," Archie told him, giving a light shiver, and Jamie noticed the tip of Archie's ears and nose were bright pink.

"Christ, ye'll catch yer death in this cold. Lets get ye near a fire," Jamie told him, leading him back to his horse. When Archie was younger, he needed help getting onto the horses, but now, with legs long enough to earn himself the nickname of 'longshanks' by the other grooms, he was able to get himself up. "John," Jamie said, looking at Lord John. "I cannae thank ye enough fer bringin' my lad te me safely."

"It is my pleasure," Lord John said back to him. "You have a very fine son, and a very beautiful daughter as well." Once Archie was adequately warmed, and Jamie had explained their situation, Lord John led the two Fraser men into the Dunsany house so Jamie could introduce his son to them.

"My Lord, My Ladies, may I have the pleasure of introducin' te ye my son, Archie Mackenzie," Jamie said to the Dunsanys, and Jamie had to elbow Archie lightly to remind him to bow to them.

"Er, a great pleasure te meet ye!" Archie exclaimed, his cheeks and ears turning pink with embarrassment. When he stood back up, Jamie happened to notice Lady Isobel giggling quietly behind her hand, and he also noticed Archie give her a subtle smile.

"How grand, indeed!" said Lord Dunsany, approaching Archie to grasp his hand firmly and shake it. "Your father is a fine man, and if you are anything like him, then I imagine you are a fine boy as well!"

"I thank ye verra much, sir," Archie said to him.

"My Lord," Jamie corrected him.

"Er, M-My Lord," Archie replied, turning a little pink.

"My son hasnae served a family before," Jamie explained to Lord Dunsany. "I assure ye, he will learn quickly."

"Aye, I'm a verra fast learner, sir- I mean, My Lord," Archie chimed in, and Jamie heard Lady Isobel giggle quietly again.

"Are you to be a groom as well, Young Mr. Mackenzie?" Lady Isobel asked Archie.

"Who, me?" Archie asked, not used to being called by that name. "Er… Yes, ma'am."

"My Lady," Jamie whispered to him.

"Yes, My Lady," Archie repeated.

"Then I would say you'll fit in nicely here," said Lady Isobel to him, giving him a sweet smile.

"I sure hope so," Archie replied to her, returning the smile. As Jamie and Archie made their way back to Jamie's quarters, where there was only one bed that could easily accommodate both of them, Jamie found it wise to remind Archie of who he was.

"I ken yer used te bein' the grandson of a Laird, lad, but here, we are the servants. Ye must get used te that," Jamie said to him.

"Aye, I ken," Archie replied. "It's a bit strange, I must admit, te go from bein' served te servin'."

"Aye, but ye must get used te it quickly," Jamie told him. " And ye must remember that grooms dinnae mate with their Ladies." A hypocritical statement, but in Jamie's defence, he was blackmailed. "I saw the way ye were lookin' at Lady Isobel."

"I was just bein' kind, Da. Can I not be kind?" Archie asked him.

"Be kind and respectful, but dinnae flirt while doin' it," Jamie told him. "Dinnae fash, lad, ye'll get the hang of it. I'll teach ye all ye need te ken. I'm just… so glad yer here wi' me. Ye've become quite the young man, havenae ye?"

"Aye, well," Archie said a bit bashfully. "I was seven when ye last saw me."

"Aye," Jamie replied a bit sadly. "I'm sorry I wasnae there fer ye. Ye needed yer father, and I wasnae there."

"Da, it's all right. Ye couldnae have been," Archie told him. "They said ye were locked up in prison fer three years… Ye were so because ye fought fer what ye believed in, and ye believed in Scotland."

"Aye, well, as we've learned, fightin' just gets ye arrested, so mind ye dinnae mention support fer Scotland, Archie," Jamie said. "They arenae verra fond of us in these parts."

"Same as we arenae fond of the English in Barra, and now I'm livin' among them," said Archie with a sigh. "But Dinnae fash, Da. Te be wi' ye is worth bein' surrounded by a bunch of Sassenaich ."

"And no Gaelic, either, not unless we're in the confines of this room," Jamie told him with a stern look.

"Aye, Da, I promise I'll not cause any trouble," Archie told him.

"Tha's my lad," Jamie replied, wrapping an arm around his son's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Ye'll do well here. I ken ye will."


Summer 1758

ARCHIE POV

"Oi, Longshanks! How's the weather up there?" called one of the other grooms called Windsor.

"Verra hot, thanks fer askin', Mr. Windsor. How's it down there, then?" Archie replied back to him.

"A little less hot," Windsor called back to him, and Archie just shook his head and chuckled. It was an unusually hot day, and Archie was out in the pasture spreading hay for the horses and the cattle. He had removed his shirt due to the heat, and would have been glad to remove his breeks, stockings and shoes as well, if it weren't indecent. For a moment, he paused to wipe a bit of sweat off of his forehead with a rag, leaning against the pitchfork when he suddenly heard a soft cough behind him. Turning around, he found Lady Isobel watching him from the fence, her cheeks red and her gloved hand covering her mouth. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Young Mr. Mackenzie!" Lady Isobel said to him, clearly embarrassed.

"Ah, dinnae fash," Archie said to her, grasping his shirt and pulling it back on out of respect for her. "How can I help ye, My Lady?"

"Oh, nothing at all, I was just curious about what you were doing. Spreading hay, is it?" Lady Isobel asked him.

"Aye," Archie replied. "The cattle and the horses will graze on it fer hours, then shit all over it." A mildly surprised expression crossed Lady Isobel's face, and Archie's cheeks turned pink. "Oh, forgive me, My Lady."

"You don't need to call me 'My Lady' every time, not when it's just the two of us," Lady Isobel replied, removing her hand and giving him a shy smile. "Your father said we're around the same age, I believe?"

"Oh, aye? What day were ye born, if ye dinnae mind me askin'?" Archie asked her, leaning against the fence.

"The nineteenth of May, 1742," Isobel said to him. "What about you?"

"Twenty-first of December, 1743," Archie told her, and Isobel giggled.

"So I'm a little bit older than you, but that's all right," she said. "Well, I… I suppose I must go. It was nice to talk with you… Archie." At the mention of his name, Archie gave her a soft smile.

"Ye as well, My Lad- I mean… Isobel," he told her, giving her a wink, and Isobel giggled again before she left, glancing back at him over her shoulder several times before disappearing. Lady Isobel Dunsany was a very pretty lass, with soft brown hair and sweet grassy hazel eyes, but the words of his father echoed in his head: 'Grooms dinnae mate with their Ladies.' Well, 'mating' implied bedding the lass, but his father certainly didn't say anything about kissing. Come August, he was doing just that with Lady Isobel, accompanying her on rides that she evidently didn't like before, and stealing small kisses under the cover of the forest. She would do the same, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kisses as if they were Romeo and Juliet. Were they not forbidden lovers?

"My father told me te stay away from ye," Archie said to her. "He thinks I'll get ye into trouble, but I swear I'd never do such a thing." Isobel let out a soft sigh.

"I wish you could," she replied to him, lying beside him on the grass on her back and staring up at the sky. "This whole… social class thing is so silly. If two people are in love, why can't they marry?"

"Aye, I ken," Archie replied. "I thought ye liked Major Grey? Or at least had an attraction te him." At this, Isobel giggled rather girlishly.

"Major Grey is very handsome, but so are you," she told him, turning her head to look at him. "Do you like me, Archie?"

"Aye, I do, verra much… but I dinnae want te disappoint my father. Before I came here, I'd not seen him in seven years. I want te ensure I do right by him," Archie replied, and then he let out a sigh. "And that means that we should stop seein' each other."

"But why? Why should it matter what your father thinks?" Isobel asked him, sitting up. "He didn't seem to share that opinion when he bedded my sister and gave her a child!" Had he heard her right? Archie raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Hold on just a second… He what ?" Archie asked her, sitting up straight.

"Oh… You didn't know about that?" Isobel asked him, covering her mouth and turning pink. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"My father bedded yer sister and gave her a child," Archie repeated, and she nodded meekly. Archie let out a scoff, then pushed himself to stand up and made his way back to the horses. " Clearly , I need te have a word wi' my father."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Archie!" Isobel said to him, standing up.

"Oh, ye didnae," Archie replied. "Thank ye fer tellin' me. I'd rather ken than not." Once Archie had gotten her back safely, he went in search for his father, who was out sowing the field alone. "Da. Can we speak?" Archie demanded from him rather firmly, catching Da off guard.

"Aye, it sounds verra serious," Da replied, leaning against the plow. "Wha's on yer mind, laddie?"

"Did ye bed Lady Isobel's sister and impregnate her?" Archie demanded of him. "Are ye Master Willie's father?" His father's face paled a little, and his expression went to one of deep concern. "Answer me!"

"Aye," Da said to him honestly. "Aye, I… I would like te wish it werenae so, but… aye, I did sire the lad…"

"How could ye? Was Mama not important enough te ye? Have ye forgotten her already?" Archie demanded rather loudly from him.

"Archie, let me explain-"

"Well, I havenae forgotten her! Everraone seems te have moved on fine without her, but I havenae! Where is my mother, and how could ye do such a thing te her?" Archie demanded.

"Archie, enough ," his father snapped at him, silencing him. "If ye think fer even one moment that I dinnae love yer mother, ye are verra wrong! I love her so much tha' my heart shatters again whenever I recall that I dinnae have her any longer!"

"Then why did ye bed Lady Isobel's sister?" Archie demanded from him.

"Because Lady Geneva was threatenin' te have me imprisoned again if I didnae bed her. She blackmailed me, Archie. I didnae have a choice!" Da snapped back at him. "And not only that, but she was threaten' ye, and threatenin' Lallybroch as well! I couldnae allow her te put ye at risk, Archie, so I did what I had te do! And now yer safe, and so are yer aunt and yer cousins because of the sacrifices I have made!"

"And what aboot the child?" Archie asked him. "Do ye love him?"

"How could I not?" Da asked him. "I love any child of mine, same as I love ye and yer sister, and I'm sure as yer uncle loves Calum as well… But I cannae claim him. If I do, he will lose his title as the Earl of Ellesmere. He can live a better life that way."

"And what aboot Brèagha and I?" Archie asked him again.

"I get te be yer father, lad. I cannae do that fer Willie," Da replied rather solemnly. "Havin' ye and yer sister has been an absolute blessin' te my life. It was you and Brèagha that got me through Ardsmuir, because ye gave me somethin' te live fer. I held onto the hope that I would someday see ye again. As fer Willie…" He let out a soft sigh. "I cannae be his father. I cannae teach him how te be a man in this world as I can wi' you. I cannae guide him, nor can I hold him as I once did you, when ye were a wee bairn." Archie was silent as he watched his father's expression change. "Never have I had the chance te raise any of my bairns from birth te adulthood, nor will I have that chance. You and Brèagha are already grown…"

"I… I am sorry, Da, that… ye cannae claim yer son… But ye should have told Lady Geneva te pish off. We'd have done fine," Archie said rather immaturely.

"And spend the rest of my life in prison, never te lay eyes on any of my bairns again?" Da asked him. "I've done the things I've done fer you and yer sister, and I'd do it all again if it meant I could be right here, free te hold ye and remind ye of how much I love ye, Archie." Archie had fallen silent, now staring down at the ground in shame. He had sorely misjudged his father, and having done so embarrassed him. "Dinnae fash, a ghille , had I discovered my father havin' done the same after I lost my mother, I'd have been upset as well." Archie didn't answer him, but instead, felt his bottom lip quivering and tears forming in his eyes. "Ah, c'mere, lad." Da pulled his son into a tight hug, allowing Archie to embrace his father and cry into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Da, I just… miss Mama so much…" Archie cried.

"Aye, I ken, laddie," Da replied sympathetically, rubbing Archie's back like he did when he was a lad. "I miss her, too." He kissed the top of Archie's head. "But we have each other, aye? And yer sister as well. The three of us will live on in yer mother's memory, and we'll ensure she's never forgotten." Da pulled back from the embrace and wiped the tears from Archie's cheeks. "No tears, lad… We have te be brave, fer her." Archie nodded, rubbing his eyes dry with his palms.

"Aye," he said quietly. "Aye, I'll try…"


3 March, 1759

JAMIE POV

Jamie was busy mucking the stalls when suddenly, Burnham came running to fetch him. "Mackenzie! It's your son! Something's the matter!" Burnham exclaimed, and Jamie threw down the shovel and raced after Burnham, finding Archie collapsed in the pasture with his hands holding on tightly to his head crying out in pain.

"Archie! Are ye all right, lad? What's the matter?" Jamie asked him with urgency.

"Agh, it hurts! Oh, Jesus blessed Bride, my head hurts so bad!" Archie cried out.

"Should I send for a physician?" Burnham asked Jamie.

"Aye," Jamie replied, bending down to lift up his son into his arms and rush him back to their quarters. Archie then vomited down the front of Jamie's coat, but Jamie wasn't too upset, as he was more concerned about his son. He simply fetched a bucket for Archie to hold onto and sat beside him, brushing his red curls out of his face. "Help is comin' soon, mo ghille …"

"Da… Da, am I goin' te die?" Archie asked him weakly.

"Like hell ye are," Jamie replied. "Ye'd better not, or I swear I'll never forgive ye." He bent down to kiss Archie's sweat-covered forehead. "Just breathe, lad… Ye'll be all right." The physician was tied up in a birth at another estate, but as soon as Lady Dunsany heard about Archie's sudden ailment, she sent Lady Isobel with a bottle of laudanum.

"How is he?" Lady Isobel asked Jamie when she'd delivered the laudanum.

"He'll be all right, I believe," Jamie told her. "Thank ye, My Lady, fer yer concern." After administering the laudanum, Archie slept for the rest of the day, then spent the following one recovering despite feeling perfectly fine.

Two weeks later, an official letter arrived for Jamie from Cailean, written in Gaelic:

3 March, 1759

Jamie,

It saddens me to say but my grandsire has passed away. He died at sunset. Thora says it must have been a stroke - an apoplexy - as it happened so suddenly. He got a horrible headache and collapsed, then died a few hours later. He did not suffer much, thankfully. Please break the news to Archie, I imagine the lad will be devastated. He was very close to my grandsire.

Your brother,

Cailean

Jamie glanced up at Archie, watching him as he spread hay in the pasture, and let out a soft sigh; He would have to tell him eventually. "Lad," Jamie called to him. As soon as Jamie broke the news of his grandfather's passing, Archie broke down into sobs, completely inconsolable.

"I… I should have been there…" Archie cried between sobs.

"Ye couldnae have helped him, lad. It was an apoplexy," Jamie said in an effort to comfort him. "My father died of the same, and I wasnae there, either. It'll be all right, laddie. It'll be all right…"

"I… I dreamt aboot him… He visited me, told me the same," Archie told his father later that evening. "I asked why he was visitin' me, and all he said was, 'it's time, a ghille ruadh , tha's all'. And then he said he was goin' te be with Grandmam again."

"Then ye should be happy fer him," Jamie said to his son with a soft smile. "I kent the man fer a short time before yer grandmother died, and he was… changed after he lost her. They can finally be together again."

"Ye were changed, too, after ye lost Mama," Archie said, wiping his eyes dry.

"Aye," Jamie replied quietly. "So I have…"


February 1764

ARCHIE POV

Several years had passed, and Archie stood aside and watched young Master Willie, Archie's own half brother, grow up. The bigger he got, the easier it was to see that Willie was, most definitely, his father's son. If the lad had red hair, it would be a dead giveaway. Master Willie had grown to love horses and favoured both Archie and Da out of all of the grooms at the estate, but especially Da. Of course he would - Da doted on the wee lad, same as he had on Archie when he was a lad, and on Brèagha when she was young.

Now at twenty years old and standing nearly as tall as his father, Archie stood aside next to Lady Dunsany, Lady Isobel, and another couple of ladies from a nearby estate as they watched Master Willie ride on his pony, with Da leading the reins. "Tha's it, Willie, keep yer back straight. Tha's it…" Da said to young Willie, clicking his tongue to guide the horse. "Shorten yer reins a wee bit."

"Yes, Mac," said young Willie, doing as he was told.

"The young Earl of Ellesmere is a handsome little boy and such a lovely rider," said one of the ladies that had come to visit Helwater.

"Oh, yes, Willie loves his pony," Lady Isobel said with a kindly smile. She would soon be one and twenty, and had blossomed into a beautiful young woman whom Archie was quite attracted to, but he refused to act on his desires out of respect.

"That's it, heels down," Da said to Willie. "Aye, yer a natural!"

"We joke sometimes that he spends so much time with Mackenzie, he's starting to look like him," said Lady Dunsany, and Archie had to swallow a bit of a surprised chortle.

"Why, you're right! How funny," said the other woman.

"'Twas a joke I heard many times, too, when I was a wee lad myself," Archie chimed in with his matured baritone voice, and the ladies turned their attention to him. "When I was a lad, I would follow my great grandsire around like a faithful shadow. I was always told if I spent too much time wi' him, I'd look just like him, and aye, I truly did."

"Your grandsire must have been a very handsome man in his youth," said Lady Isobel sweetly, and Archie gave her a smile.

"Aye, he was," Archie replied to her.

"This, my dear friend, is Archie Mackenzie. He is Mr. Mackenzie's son," Lady Dunsany said to her friend.

"Indeed? Oh, I see it! You have such… red hair like your father, Mr. Mackenzie," said the other woman.

"A treasured trait where I come from," Archie replied, glancing back at his father, who lifted Master Willie off of his horse and set him down on the ground. They carried themselves in a similar manner, Da and Master Willie, and nearly had identical laughs. Once Master Willie was back in the arms of his family, Archie pulled his father aside and spoke to him in a low whisper. "The lad's really startin' te look like ye, so much so tha' Lady Dunsany has noticed."

"She has?" Da asked him quietly.

"Aye, and so has her friend," Archie told him. "Da… I dinnae ken how much longer we can stay here without them makin' the connection - or worse, until he makes the connection."

"Aye… Aye, lad, yer right," Da said with a soft sigh. "I'll… I'll speak wi' Lord John.

"Aye, a wise move," Archie replied. "He'll have come, aye? Ye should go and find him, I'll put the pony away."

"Thanks, lad," Da replied, giving Archie a soft squeeze on his shoulder, and the two Fraser men parted ways.


JAMIE POV

Lord John was awaiting Jamie in their chess location, a portable chessboard ready for the two men to play, but Jamie wasn't in the mood for a game. "We need te talk business," Jamie replied. "Rather serious business, I'm afraid."

"Oh?" Lord John asked him. "Whatever is the matter?" The man, too, had grown a good deal in the last five years. He must have been somewhere in his thirties, while Jamie was due to turn three and forty that coming May.

"I fear that the time has come for me te return te Scotland," Jamie told him calmly.

"So soon?" Lord John asked him, and Jamie raised his eyebrows in an amused fashion.

"I have been here seven years now, Major," Jamie told him, and Lord John chuckled.

"Indeed," he replied. "Well, I will be sad to lose my chess partner, but you are right to go. We all have our secrets, and yours is walking around. Anyone with half an eye can see it."

"Aye, Archie says the same. He says Lady Dunsany has started te notice the resemblance," Jamie told his friend, sitting down across from him at the tree stump table. "Some sires stamp their get."

"The boy has the same cock to his head, same set to his shoulders, and he has your eyes," Lord John told him. "It won't be long before young Willie sees it himself."

"No - another thing Archie said as well," Jamie replied.

"I imagine Willie will be most displeased with you. He admires you greatly," Lord John told him, and Jamie chuckled warmly.

"Aye… John, I… wish te ask a favour of ye," Jamie said suddenly, piquing Lord John's interest.

"If you think I'll tell anyone, I won't," Lord John began.

"No, no, I dinnae think ye would. But I would ask... Would ye look out fer Willie? It would mean a great deal te me if ye would… spend time with him, serve... as his father," Jamie asked Lord John. "I cannae be his father, but if ye could in my place, I would ken that he is well cared fer. In return, if ye want... I would be willing te... If ye want…" Jamie gestured to himself, and Lord John looked at him with an incredulous expression.

"Wha... Are you actually offering your body to me in payment if I promise to look after Willie?" he demanded from Jamie.

"Aye," Jamie replied quietly.

"Dear God," John replied, scandalised, and then he let out a sigh. "That I should live to hear such an offer!"

"Ye dinnae want me then?" Jamie asked him curiously.

"Well, I shall probably want you till the day I die, but... tempted as I am, do you really think I would accept?" Lord John asked him. "Well, I should feel my honor most insulted save that I know the depth of feeling that prompted it… I will accept no such thing. But… I came to tell you some news of my own." For a moment, John paused before speaking. "I am to be married." It was Jamie's turn to be surprised.

"Married? Te a woman?" Jamie asked him with surprise, and Lord John couldn't help but chuckle.

"I think there are not many alternatives," he replied. "But yes, since you ask… to Lady Isobel."

"Wha…" Jamie said, his jaw falling open. "Christ, man, ye cannae do that…"

"I can. I made trial of my capacity in London. Be assured I shall make her an adequate husband," Lord John said to him. "Besides, there is more to a marriage than carnal love. I'm also truly fond of Isobel. I… understand there are some… feelings between Lady Isobel and your son…"

"Aye… Archie might no' be verra thrilled te hear it, but I have given him warning many times te stay away from the lass," Jamie replied. "Well, then, I have no right te think ill of ye, if ye mean no dishonor te the lady."

"Certainly not. Besides... it means I will be able to care for Willie," John replied. "She has taken on the role of Willie's mother, and he loves her as such. Marriage to Isobel will make Willie my stepson." Slowly, Jamie smiled warmly at the man across from him. Once, this man had wanted him dead and wanted to kill him, but now, Jamie considered him one of his dearest friends. A funny thing, time… It always changed perspectives on things.

"I'm grateful te ye," Jamie told him happily. "And ye shall always... have my friendship. If that has any value te ye." It was Lord John's turn to smile.

"A very great value indeed," he replied kindly. "I shall leave for London to secure your official pardon. You will have to give an oath and sign a document, but it will release you from your sentence entirely. I… shall have your wife pardoned as well… posthumously, of course. It'll be a different course, but she will be pardoned."

"Thank ye, truly," Jamie said to him. "Now, I… suppose I should go and inform Willie." While Jamie waited for Lord John's return, he continued the work that he was there for, young Willie frequently accompanying him whether Jamie was plowing the fields, fetching water for the horses, spreading hay or even shovelling shit. He was happiest when his two favourite grooms, Jamie and Archie, were together, as they were in the pasture when Jamie decided to tell Willie.

"Ye want te spread some hay, laddie?" Archie repeated when Willie asked him. "Aye, if ye'd like, Master Willie, but best ye be careful." Jamie paused to watch the two of them, brothers with similar mannerisms and appearances. He watched as Archie, a faithful older brother, taught Willie, the curious younger brother, how to spread hay adequately for the horses.

"Like this, wee Sawney. Ye see?"

"Aye, Willie. Like this!"

"No, no! Tha's too clumped! Do ye want the horses te choke? Te eat it all at once and then be hungry and unhappy later? No, ye must do it like this…"

"Bit thinner," Archie continued, pulling Jamie out of the memory of his own older brother teaching him how to spread hay when he was a lad. "Aye, like tha'. Perfect! Yer doin' so well, ye'll have te take over fer me when I've gone." Archie had meant it in jest, but when Willie gave him a surprised look, Archie realised what he had said and his smile faded.

"What do you mean, when you've gone?" Willie asked him meekly.

"Er…" Archie began, looking at Jamie for help, and Jamie took this as the perfect opportunity to say what he had found to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to say:

"It's… time fer us te go home," Jamie told him as he approached his two sons.

"What do you mean, Mac?" Willie asked, his eyebrows arched in confusion. "This is your home. Where are you going? For how long?"

"Back te Scotland, I mean," Jamie told him. For a moment, Willie was silent before speaking again.

"I want to come with you. I could ride Rosie!" he cried out, and Archie let out a chuckle.

"Rosie? She's too big fer ye!" Archie told him.

"No she isn't! I could ride Rosie fine!" Willie snapped at him stubbornly.

"No, lad, and Archie is right, she's too big for ye just yet," Jamie told him in a parental tone.

"You have to do what I tell you. I'm your master! Either you stay or I come with you!" Willie whined to them.

"I suspect 'no's' a word ye've not heard much of," Archie said to him.

"Aye, but it's a word ye'll hear in the world and ye'd best get used te it," Jamie told him.

"No!" Willie cried, ramming into Jamie in an attempt to knock him off of his feet.

"Willie!" Jamie cried, making a grab for the lad when he tried to run away.

"No! You're not leaving!" Willie cried as Jamie gave him a swift whack on his bum.

"I told you, no !" Jamie said to him firmly.

"I hate you, Mac!" Willie yelled at him in a bratty tone.

"Aye, and I'm not verra fond of ye either just now, ye wee bastard," Jamie hissed at him.

"I'm not a bastard! Take it back!" Willie cried, tears in his eyes as he tried to pull himself free from Jamie's grasp, and Jamie froze. Willie was a bastard, but he could never know. If he did, and if his status was ever revealed, he would lose his earldom and likely be forced out onto the streets.

"I… I take it back," Jamie said a bit meekly. "I should never have used the word. I'm sorry... My Lord." Wee Willie hugged Jamie around his midsection tightly, and Jamie knelt down to return the hug, embracing his young son and holding him tightly.

"Must you truly go, Mac?" Willie asked him, and Jamie let out a soft sigh.

"Aye… Aye, I must." Fer yer own good , he thought to himself as he exchanged a glance with Archie.

Lord John had returned within a couple of days with the pardon, which required Jamie to recite an oath, witnessed by two witnesses - Lord John and Archie - and then sign a document stating that he had given the oath in question. "I, James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser, do swear an oath of allegiance te His Royal Highness, King George II. I do, in the sincerity of my heart, acknowledge and declare that His Majesty King George II is the only lawful, undoubted sovereign of the realm known as Scotland…" With the oath having been given, Jamie was a free man, and he and Archie could leave whenever they saw fit.

On the night before they were to leave, on a Sunday, Archie and Jamie were praying to a hand-carved effigy of St. Anthony, whom Jamie had found comfort in in the last few years, when suddenly, the door opened and young Willie poked his head into the room. "Willie," Jamie said when he realised who it was. "What are ye doin'? Does yer governess ken yer here?"

"I wanted to see you before you left, Mac. Can't I stay for a bit?" Willie asked the two of them.

"I see no reason why not," Archie replied, looking at Jamie.

"Aye… Fer a bit," he said, and Willie gladly came into the room and climbed into Archie's lap, Archie wrapping his arms around the young lad to keep him from falling. Willie looked up at the tallow candles on a shelf against the wall, scrunching up his little face in confusion.

"What are you doing, Mac? Grandmama says only stinking Papists burn candles in front of heathen images," Willie said to Jamie, and Archie chuckled.

"Well... I am a stinkin' Papist," Jamie said to him, and Willie's eyes widened at Jamie.

"Aye, we both are, laddie," Archie told him.

"And tha's no heathen image," Jamie chimed in. "That's St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. I... light a candle, pray fer the ones I've lost."

"Oh," said Willie, looking back at the small statue. "Who do you pray for?"

"I pray fer my mother," Archie told him. "I miss her verra much… And my auntie, and my grandsire."

"And I pray fer my brother. He's called Willie... like you," Jamie told Willie with a smile. "And my sister, and Archie's wee sister, Brèagha… My other children that I've lost, my Godfather... my wife."

"Your wife? You haven't a wife," Willie told him, earning another chuckle from Archie.

"I promise ye, laddie, I'm not a bastard," Archie told him in a teasing tone.

"Aye… I did have a wife, but… not anymore," Jamie said to Willie a bit sadly. "But I remember her. Always. One day, ye... will have a wife of yer own."

"I don't want a wife," said young Willie in a childish tone.

"Ah, trust me, laddie, ye'll change yer mind," Archie told him. "There's a woman out there fer ye. Ye'll find her one day."

"Or... she will find you ," Jamie told him. "Archie's mother found me, she did, more than once. She was a… rare woman. I hope ye find one like her." For a moment, Willie sat quietly on Archie's lap, watching the flame dance next to the effigy of St. Anthony.

"I want to be a stinking Papist, too," he said suddenly, and Archie chuckled while Jamie lightly shook his head.

"No, lad, yer grannie would go mad," Jamie told him.

"I won't tell her, I promise! Please, Mac. I want to be like you," Willie begged him. Jamie nodded for a moment, then reached for a jug of water and dipped his fingertip into it. Though it was best done by an ordained priest, an emergency baptism could be done by anyone who knew the words. Though this wasn't an emergency, Willie would likely never step foot in a Catholic Church, let alone see a Catholic priest.

"I baptize thee William James... in the name of our Father and of the Son and the Holy Ghost," Jamie said to him, and Willie scrunched up his face in confusion again.

"Why did you call me 'William James'? My name is William Clarence Henry George Ransom," Willie said to him.

"Oh, when yer christened, ye get a new name. James is yer... special Papist name," Jamie explained to him, giving the lad a small smile. "It's mine too."

"And mine's Andrew," Archie chimed in.

"I'm a stinking Papist now," said Willie proudly, and Jamie chuckled.

"Oh," he said after a moment, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small wooden snake. "I carved this fer ye. My brother, Willie, gave me one just like it. Archie has one, too, but it's… at home. He'll have it when we return."

"Aye?" Archie asked, watching Jamie explain the wooden snake to Willie.

"Ye'll see I etched yer name on the bottom, see," Jamie told his two sons. "Archie's has his name on it as well." He handed the snake to young Willie, who took it gladly and admired it. "Keep it te remember me by. And fer God's sake, dinnae tell anyone yer a Papist."

"I won't. But I haven't got anything for you to remember me," Willie said to them both.

"Oh, dinnae fash, lad," Archie said to him. "Yer someone we'll never forget."

Early the next morning, it was time for Jamie and Archie to leave. Lord John would accompany them to Whitehaven, where they would take a ship bound for the Isle of Barra in the Outer Hebrides. Jamie wanted to return to Lallybroch, but he wanted to do it with both of his children, now that he was free to, which meant going to Barra to fetch Brèagha. Before leaving, Lady Isobel and Lord John, soon to be married, stood side by side, while Archie had pulled young Willie aside so Jamie could speak with them in private.

"We'll take good care of your son," Isobel promised him.

"Thank ye, verra much," Jamie said both to her and to Jamie. "I wish ye the best in yer marriage, Lady Isobel. Lord John, as ye ken, is a fine man, if I've ever seen one."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Fraser," said Isobel, having learned Jamie's true name, but being sworn to secrecy by John.

"Best we be on our way. I am verra much lookin' forward te seein' my daughter. I've not seen her in… aboot thirteen years, I'd say," Jamie said to them.

"That's such a long time! I wish you and your family the best as well," Isobel said to Jamie, and then she looked back at Willie and Archie. "Willie! Come here, darling." Young Willie immediately ran to Isobel, holding on tightly to her skirts while Jamie, Archie and Lord John mounted their horses. As they began to start down the road, Jamie could hear young Willie's little feet running after him and calling his name.

"Mac! Archie! Please, don't go!" he cried out, and Jamie had to fight tears from forming in his eyes as he fought the urge to turn around and embrace his young son in his arms. He exchanged a glance with his older, fully grown son - the lad he had raised, the lad he could continue to be the father of. Archie gave him a soft smile.

"I love ye, Da," Archie said to him, sensing exactly how hard this was on Jamie.

"Aye, lad," Jamie said to Archie. "I love ye, too… my son."