Featured Gaelic and Pronunciations:
- Oidhche mhath (oy-hyeh vah) - good evening
- a bhràthair (ah vrah-heth) - brother (speaking to)
- Do mhòrachd (doh vohr-ahk) - your highness
- Sgàthach (skah-hah) - mythological Scottish warrior woman
- Mo bhean laochaire (mo veen loo-ka-her) - my warrior woman
16 January, 1744
Jared's Home, Paris, France
Jamie's hand reached up to take mine and help me down the steps of the carriage and I glanced up at the grand house before us - it was beautiful. Built to emulate the rococo style of eighteenth century France, it was a newer home designed to display the height of French architectural style. The house appeared as if it were the city estate of a French noble, it was so elegant. Greeting us in front of the house were two rows of servants, all of whom Jared had hand-picked to serve him. As an openly-declared Jacobite, Jared needed people that he could trust to serve him, and he definitely had that among his people. "This here, Catrìona, is Suzette. She will serve as your lady's maid," Jared said, introducing me to a dark-haired girl who was easily older than myself. Suzette curtseyed to me.
" Bonjour, Madame, " said Suzette in greeting.
"Shall she serve your nanny as well or shall I be adding your nanny to my staff?" Jared asked Jamie.
"Miss MacCraig is under our care. We shall take care of her," Jamie answered his cousin. Jamie and Jared walked inside of the home while Cailean climbed out of the carriage and was handed Brian by Beth, who then handed him to me, and then offered a hand to Beth to help her down from the carriage.
"Goodness," Beth muttered once she saw the house, holding Archie tight against her chest. "It sure isnae Scotland anymore, is it?"
"Certainly not. No crofthouses here," I replied. When we entered the home, the inside was just as ostentatiously French as the outside was, but still had a touch of the more toned-down English Georgian style. Jared gave us a tour of the home, and we were surprised to find both his office space and the master bedroom in a more Jacobean style than rococo.
"I like te be reminded of who it is I truly support," Jared told us. "Many of these items are antique, older even than I."
"Ye'd never ken it," Cailean said. "This home is immaculate, Mr. Fraser."
"I thank ye kindly, Mr. Fowlis," said Jared. "I do hope that you will enjoy my humble estate, as you shall have the chance to enjoy it for longer. I must go to Italy before I travel to the Indies, and that will take some time. There is a new winery that wishes to become a business partner with me."
"Italian wine, I believe, is better than French wine," Jamie told his cousin.
"I'll bet Italy will be beautiful. Whereabouts in Italy is this winery?" I asked Jared.
"Tuscany," Jared answered. "Tuscany is famous for their wineries, so I am looking forward to meeting with this potential business partner. If a deal is made, Jamie, I shall write to you and will likely leave for the Indies from Italy. That will not be until the end of the month, so until then, I will do what I can to try and arrange a meeting between you and the Jacobite leaders."
"Whatever ye can achieve, I'll be grateful for," Jamie told his cousin. Jared then bid us to get settled, while Cailean went to tour the rest of the home and Beth was being led to the nursery by the housekeeper, a Madame Lejeune.
"It's verra big," I said to Jamie, sitting down on the four-poster bed and glancing up at the vaulted ceiling of the room. "Much bigger than what we're used to."
"It's the home of a wine merchant," Jamie told me. "When ye've got wealth, ye must show it off. Tha's how French culture is."
"It doesnae change throughout all of history," I told him, and then I laid down flat against the bed. Even the top of the four-poster bed had a painted ceiling.
"Ye dinnae like it?" I heard Jamie asked me.
"It's no' that," I said. "It just… it isnae home."
"Aye, I ken." He was silent, and then I felt him sit down on the bed beside me, his hand resting on my knee. "We'll have te get us both some new claithes. We cannae present as members of high society dressed in rags."
"Our claithes arenae rags," I told him. "I like the claithes I have."
"I ken that, a nighean , but we're here now. We're no' in Scotland anymore," Jamie replied.
"Don't I ken it," I murmured, and then I let out a sigh. "At least the lads will be comfortable. They've warm beds and a roof over their heads… I cannae be more grateful." Jamie appeared in my field of vision as he laid down beside me, both of us staring up at the painted ceiling of the bed.
"They willnae want fer anythin'," he told me. He then turned his head to look at me, and sensing his gaze, I met his eyes. "You and the lads are safe, and fer that, I'm grateful."
"And I'm glad yer safe, and away from that bastard and the end of a rope," I told him.
"Well, we dinnae have te worry about that , now, do we? Randall's dead, remember?" He took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze, then sat up a bit to kiss my cheek. "We'll have te get the lads baptised, and I'll have te write to Jenny, tell her we're finally settled and the lads are safe. She's thrilled, ye ken, that we've had them."
"Is she?" I asked, and he nodded. "She's been a mother and now she can be an aunt. She must have been jealous, seein' yer face light up whenever ye were around yer nephew."
"Or she's laughin' at me, she kens how I was as a lad and I expect thinks wee Archie and Brian will be no different," he replied, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"If you were any trouble and our lads are the same, I swear I'll send ye out on the sea on a raft so ye feel every wave," I told him.
"Ye sure are cruel te me." He rolled over onto his side and bent down to capture my lips with his, his hand trailing down my side. I buried my hands in his hair, pulling the ribbon from his hair and freeing his rich red curls.
"Mmm," I said. "I've missed ye, Jamie… verra much." My hands were framing his face as he hovered over me, one hand pushing a bit of hair out of his eyes and behind his ear. There was a nervous look in his eye, but he wouldn't voice his feelings. I let out a sigh. "Perhaps I should check on the lads, see if they need feeding…" Jamie moved aside as I sat up and then stood.
"We should get ye a wet nurse. Women here dinnae feed their bairns themselves," he told me
"Absolutely not," I said. "I willnae rob myself of the bond between myself and my sons fer the sake of French society."
"There'll be talk," Jamie warned me, and I scoffed.
"There'll be talk anyway. I'm no' a French lass, I'm Scottish. There arenae many women here who look or sound like me, so I'll be the topic of gossip anyway. I dinnae care if they think me strange fer feeding my bairns with the milk that my body makes specifically fer them . I willnae have them suckling the breast of another woman bearing milk for a child that isnae them."
"All right, I willnae argue with ye," Jamie replied.
"It wouldnae be an argument ye would win," I told him defiantly, and he stood from the bed.
"I've got te take a look at the books before Jared leaves, ask any questions I need answered… I'll see ye fer supper," Jamie told me. He approached me, then gently pressed his lips to my forehead. He sensed that I was a bit bothered by him not wanting me, but of course, I wouldn't say anything. I stopped him before he left, then stood on my toes to kiss him.
"I love you," I told him, and a small smile worked its way onto his lips.
"I love ye, too," he said, and then he kissed me again. "Kiss the lads fer me, I'll have te see them later." He kissed me a third time, and then he was gone, leaving me with my arms wrapped firmly around my middle.
19 January, 1744
Jared left that morning bound for Italy, a journey that would likely take a couple of days by carriage, but once he left, Jamie would officially be taking over the wine business. Jamie had gone to the Paris warehouse, leaving Cailean and me alone for most of the day. We sat in a sitting room, Archie on Cailean's lap and Brian resting quietly in my arms. He looked so pale today, and his little grey eyes wouldn't open to look at me. "How is he?" Cailean asked me.
"I dinnae ken," I answered honestly. Not wanting to talk about it, I changed the subject. "What's Murtagh been up to? I've no' seen him much."
"Scoping out the city, I think," Cailean answered. "It's been a while since he's been here, he said, so he wanted te get a lay of the land."
"Tha's like him, isnae it? I suppose if we're te engage in shady business, we should have an eye on the streets," I told my brother. "Jared hasnae made a connection fer Jamie yet, has he?" Cailean shook his head.
"There's still time. I believe he doesnae leave Italy fer a few weeks," Cailean answered.
"But if he leaves before he can make a connection…"
"We'll figure it out, Cat. We always do, you and me," Cailean told me with a smile, and then he looked down at Archie in his lap. "Besides, how could I be the best uncle ever if I didnae do whatever I can te make my nephews' mam happy?" I smiled at the sight of Cailean holding Archie.
"Ye look good with a bairn," I told him.
"Not nearly as good as you," he replied. "Ye were meant the be a mam, and yer good at it."
"I've scarcely been a mam fer a month," I told him. "It'll be a month, soon…" I glanced down at Brian, speaking to him. "Ye hear that, Brian? You and yer brother will be a month old on Tuesday."
"It doesnae feel like it's been a month," Cailean told me. "So much has happened since then, it feels more like it'll have been several." We paused in silence for a moment. "How's Jamie's hand?"
"Healing nicely," I said. "He willnae let me look at it, but I've seen it when he's sleeping. I need te remove the stitches, but I dinnae ken if he'll let me."
"He will, if I've anything te say aboot it," Cailean told me. He then stood, moving to the corridor to shout down it. "Beth! Beth, can ye come here?" Beth came when she was called, and Cailean handed her Archie. "I'd best go. I heard a rumour that the Bonnie Prince likes te hang out at local…" He glanced at Beth. " …establishments… around this time. I wanted te go and scope them out, see if I can find him."
"Where did ye hear this?" I asked him.
"When I was checking out the market, I heard a couple of men discussing it. I also heard a lass mention an apothecary, a Master… a Master Raymond. Maybe ye should check that out sometime," he answered me.
"Doesnae seem like a bad idea," I told him. "Just be careful, aye?"
"I'll blend in perfectly. I'm a single man, am I no'?" Cailean asked me, giving me a wink. "I'll likely return late. Tell Jamie where I've gone, if ye'd like." I nodded, and then watched him leave, leaving Beth staring after him with a schoolgirl look in her eye.
CAILEAN POV
Cailean was at the seventh brothel of the night sitting at a table sipping from a glass of champagne. He was getting tired, but the women of this establishment certainly perked him back up. They were beautiful, charming and clearly the proper type of lasses for the gentlemanly type that frequented this place. What was it called again? Ah, yes, Maison Elise . He was supposed to be scoping out the patrons of the establishment, however, a very pretty young girl approached his table.
" Bonsoir, Monsieur, " she told him flirtatiously.
" Bonsoir te you as well, ma belle desmoiselle, " Cailean replied, setting down the glass of champagne as she took her seat on his lap.
"Are you seeking company this evening, sir?" asked the young girl in French.
"From you , absolutely," Cailean replied back to her, wrapping his arms around the girl. Suddenly, a voice cleared behind him, and the young girl glanced up, her eyes widening, and she hopped off of Cailean's lap.
" Bonsoir, Votre Altesse, " said the girl, curtsying to a man behind Cailean.
" Votre Altesse? " Cailean asked. Your highness? Cailean turned his head to see a young man with an upturned nose and a curled white wig with a queue dressed in a very elaborate-looking costume standing behind him. He picked up his glass of champagne again. "Can I help ye, mate?"
"Do excuse us, mademoiselle ," the man said to the girl, who scurried off. The man spoke in a high-opinion-of-himself tone in an Italian accent. "I see from your attire that you are a Scot."
"Aye, what's it to ye?" Cailean asked the man, who seemed mildly offended by Cailean's casual tone.
"I do beg your pardon, sir. I am Prince Charles Edward Stuart," said the man, and Cailean immediately dropped his glass of champagne, which spilled all over him and then shattered on the ground, and jumped up from his seat.
"Yer Highness! Forgive me, we dinnae ken yer face in the highlands," said Cailean, bending down in a bow. He accepted the hand of Prince Charles and kissed it respectfully. "I am Cailean Fowlis of Barra, Yer Highness."
"Charmed, I am certain," said the Prince, taking a seat at Cailean's table. Cailean, too, sat down, thrilled to have finally been successful in locating the Prince. "Fowlis of Barra, did you say? You do not happen to be related to the Laird of Cìosamul, do you?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm his grandson," Cailean told him. He grasped his own empty wine glass and then filched another from a nearby table, then offered to fill one for the Prince, who accepted.
"I have been attempting to reach out to your grandfather in hopes of gaining his support for my noble cause. I understand he was active in the uprising that my father led, some years ago," the Prince said, accepting the glass of wine.
"Aye, my grandsire was attacking English ships that came near the Bàigh a' Chaisteil, " Cailean told him. "He was a young man, then, but now he is older and likely doesnae wish te risk his estate."
"Some faith he must have in me," said the Prince somewhat bitterly. "I do hope you are of a different opinion." Here was his opportunity.
"I am for a free Scotland, as is my sister and her husband," said Cailean. "My good brother is much grievanced by the English and has been wishing te seek yer audience. He has recently been displaced due to the English, him and my sister and their two newborn sons. He is the Laird of Broch Tuarach and cannae claim his title due to a price on his head fer a false accusation."
"Laird of Broch Tuarach? I have heard that name. I received a request for a meeting from a relative of his who is a known Jacobite, but I was not sure if I should accept the request," said the Prince.
"My good brother has a passion fer dethroning our good King Geordie," Cailean told him. "With his grievances, he has developed a fiery desire te seek a free Scotland by any means necessary. He is in great support of yer cause. Ye ken, he was a mercenary here in France, some time ago."
"Was he?" said the Prince, now intrigued.
"Aye, he was. With his military experience and with what he has te protect, ye willnae find a man with a greater passion fer rebellion."
"So you advise me to seek his counsel, then?" asked the Prince. Well, shit, now Cailean had to really be careful.
"I advise ye te make his acquaintance," Cailean told him. "My good brother, James Fraser, is a man ye want on yer side, and a good and loyal friend te have."
"Is that so?" asked the Prince. "Hmm. I suppose then that I shall meet with the man, if he is so supportive of my father's cause and claim to the throne."
"Ye certainly willnae regret gaining his friendship," said Cailean, raising his glass. The Prince did the same. "Te the rightful king and a free Scotland, and to a new friend. Slàinte mhath. " Hook, line and sinker. Having successfully reeled in his catch, Cailean smiled over the glass of wine as the Prince did the same, both of them taking a sip of the wine.
Cailean was late in coming home and was glad to find Jamie sitting up in the study scribbling away at a letter. It was difficult for him to do so, with his hand, but he did the best he could. " Oidhche mhath , a bhràthair ," Cailean said, startling him a little. Jamie turned his head to see who had interrupted him, finding Cailean pouring two glasses of imported Scottish whisky and bringing them to the desk.
"Cailean," said Jamie. "Where were ye tonight? Catrìona said ye were lookin' fer the Prince."
"I was, and I found him," Cailean told him, handing him the glass. "And guess what? I've arranged a meetin' fer ye both. Saturday next, the Prince will meet ye at Maison Elise. It's a brothel, but it is the only place that the Prince will meet with anyone. Or rather, any man . I feel he would benefit greatly from an hour spent with the first person te successfully seize Berwick in seven hundred years, but he willnae listen te a woman."
"Tha's excellent," Jamie said. "How did ye meet him?"
"He saw my kilt, then found out I'm a Fowlis of Barra. It pays te have a reputation as the most feared clan in the land," said Cailean. "I'll accompany ye to the meeting. He seems te like me, and I ken he'll like ye, too. He told me about his lady friend, and when I got enough wine into him, he gave me her name."
"Which is?" asked Jamie curiously as Cailean took a sip of the whisky.
"Madame Louise de La Tour d'Auvergne, Princesse of Guéméné," said Cailean, and Jamie's eyes widened.
"Aye? Wife of Jules de Rohan, Prince of Guéméné, is a customer of ours," Jamie told him. "I'll arrange te invite them te dinner. Perhaps Catrìona can make friends with Louise."
"Prince Charles and Louise de La Tour. Jamie, my man, we are well on our way," said Cailean, clinking his glass against Jamie's.
"Indeed we are. Slàinte mhath, " Jamie replied, and the pair of them downed the rest of their whisky.
19 January, 1744
Cathedral of Notre-Dame-de-Paris, Paris, France
It was generally common to baptise a child within three or four days after birth, however, given our circumstances, that could not be possible for us. Instead, we decided to have our children baptised three days after our arrival in Paris - close enough, isn't it? Jamie and I each held one of the bairns - Brian in Jamie's arms and Archie in mine - and we stood beside the basin while the present Archbishop of Paris, Archbishop Charles-Gaspard-Guillaume de Vintimille du Luc - a very large antique of a man - was giving a few words about the process of a baptism in French. When he was finished, he held out his arms to take Archie from me.
"What name do you give this child?" the Archbishop asked me in French.
"Er… Archie Brian James Fowlis Fraser," I told the Archbishop.
"What is it that you ask of the church in the name of the Lord for Archie?" asked the Archbishop.
"Baptism," I answered, as Jamie had me practice.
"You have asked to have your child baptised," the Archbishop began. "In doing so, you are accepting the responsibility in training him in the practice of the faith. It will be your duty to bring him up to keep God's commandments as Christ taught us, by loving God and our neighbour. Do you clearly understand what you are undertaking?"
"We do," Jamie answered. The Archbishop then turned his attention to Cailean, whom we had decided would serve as godfather to Archie, while Murtagh would serve as godfather to Brian. Each would serve as the witness to the other's baptism.
"Are you ready to help these parents in their duty as parents of the faith?" he asked Cailean.
"I do," Cailean answered.
"Archie Brian James Fowlis Fraser, the Catholic community welcomes you with great joy. In its name, I claim you for Christ our Saviour by the sign of his cross," said the Archbishop, and then he crossed himself. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Jamie, Cailean, Murtagh and I all did the same. The Archbishop then handed Archie to Cailean and picked up a bible, flipping to a page and then reading two passages - first, Matthew 28: 18 - 20 : "And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, 'All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Spirit: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen."
"Amen," repeated the congregation as well as myself, Jamie, Cailean and Murtagh. The next passage he read was Mark 1: 9 - 11 :
"At that time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptised by John in the Jordan. Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: 'You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased," said the Archbishop. "My dear brothers and sisters, let us ask our Lord Jesus Christ to look lovingly upon this child who is to be baptised, on his parents and godparents, and on all who are baptised." He then looked at Cailean. "Do bring the child nearer." Cailean stepped forward holding Archie in his arms. "By the mystery of your death and resurrection, bathe this child in light, give him the new life of baptism and welcome him into your holy Church."
"Lord, hear our prayer," everyone said in unison.
"Through baptism and confirmation, make him your faithful follower and a witness to your gospel," said the Archbishop.
"Lord, hear our prayer," everyone repeated again.
"Lead him by a holy life to the joys of God's kingdom," said the Archbishop, followed by another incantation by the congregation. "Make the lives of his parents and godparents examples of faith to inspire this child." Lord, hear our prayer. "Keep his family always in your love." Lord, hear our prayer. "Renew the grace of our baptism in each one of us."
"Lord, hear our prayer." There was a brief pause as the Archbishop began to switch gears to the next part of the baptism.
"Holy Mary, Mother of God," said the Archbishop.
"Pray for us," said the congregation.
"Saint John the Baptist." Pray for us. "Saint Joseph." Pray for us. "Saint Peter and Saint Paul." Pray for us. "Saint Bride, the patron Saint of the mother." Pray for us. "Saint Andrew, for whom this child shall be named for." Pray for us. "All holy men and women."
"Pray for us." The next thing the Archbishop did was give this whole big long spiel about anointing before baptism with oils and the prayer of exorcism, things that I as a practicing Pagan didn't quite understand, but I spoke when I was asked to, and gave no indication that though I was baptised of this faith, I did not follow it. Talk about sacrilegious.
"My dear brothers and sisters, we now ask God to give this child new life in abundance through water and the Holy Spirit," said the Archbishop. I thought that finally, Archie would be baptised and we could get on with Brian's baptism and get home, as my breasts were already starting to ache as they filled with milk, but then the Archbishop began to speak again. "Father, you give us grace…" I began to tune out.
While the Archbishop spoke again, I took the chance to admire the beauty of Notre Dame Cathedral. In my time, it was destroyed in the Third World War, so to see it in all its glory was something beautiful in its own sense. Every window was made of stained glass, including the grand rose window on the south end. The cathedral was absolutely beautiful, full of gothic medieval architecture. I'd heard stories about Notre Dame de Paris, but never had the chance to see how grand it truly was.
I felt Jamie suddenly elbow me and I glanced up at him, seeing his eyebrow raised, and then I turned my attention back to the Archbishop. "…we ask this through Christ our Lord."
"Amen," said the congregation.
"Dear parents and godparents," said the Archbishop, now speaking to us. "You have come here to present this child for baptism. By water and the Holy Spirit, he is to receive the gift of new life from God, who is love." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes - I felt no love from this God, given what I had gone through. "On your part, you must make it your constant care to bring him up in the practice of the faith. See that the divine life which God gives him is kept safe from the poison of sin, to grow always stronger in his heart." I'm pretty sure that I'm the one who gave him life, I thought to myself. "If your faith makes you ready to accept this responsibility, renew now the vows of your own baptism. Reject sin; profess your faith in Christ Jesus." This was definitely sacrilegious … "This is the faith of the Church. This is the faith in which this child is to be baptised." The Archbishop then turned to us to address us. "Do you reject Satan?"
"I do," Jamie, Cailean and I said together. That part was at least true, I did reject Satan, because my faith held no Satan.
"And all his works?" asked the Archbishop.
"I do," we said again.
"Do you reject sin, so as to live in the freedom of God's children?"
"I do."
"Do you reject the glamour of evil and refuse to be mastered by sin?"
"I do."
"Do you reject Satan, father of sin and prince of darkness?" Didn't he ask us this question already? Blessed Bride, the Catholic Church was all about the drama factor, wasn't it?
"I do," we three repeated.
"Do you believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth?"
"I do," said Cailean and Jamie, and then Jamie elbowed me. I cleared my throat.
"I do," I said. I mean, it wasn't a full lie. It isn't that I didn't believe in God, I just did not believe he was the deity who called to me, nor the deity that listened to me.
"Do you believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?"
"I do," we three said. I would believe in his existence at one point in history, as I would believe in his crucifixion. I would believe that perhaps he was not fully dead when taken down from the cross and simply unconscious, then awoke - the medical training in me recalled that 'reanimation' could often be attributed to that in the days before more advanced practices like ensuring death before burial.
"Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?"
"I do," the three of us said. I had the logic to know that there was something creating miracles to the people who have become canonised as saints. Again, it isn't that I didn't believe in God's existence, I just believed that he wasn't the deity I served. Servants can't serve all deities, after all. I certainly wouldn't expect Suzette to serve any of the other wealthy families on our street.
"This is our faith. This is the faith of the Church. We are proud to profess it, in Christ Jesus our Lord," said the Archbishop.
"Amen," we all said. The Archbishop then motioned for Cailean to come closer to the basin of water, then motioned for us to stand behind him.
"Mr. and Mrs. Fraser, it is your will that Archie Brian James Fowlis Fraser should be baptised in the faith of the Church, which we have all professed with you?" he asked us.
"It is," said Jamie, who still held Brian in his arms. Brian fussed a little, and Jamie was quick to silence him by allowing Brian to suck on his little finger. The Archbishop then dipped his fingers into the water as Cailean bent forward a little, and the Archbishop touched Archie's forehead with the water, sprinkling a few drops onto his head.
"I baptise thee, Andrew, in the name of the Father," he said, and then he touched Archie's chin, "and the Son," he said, and then he tapped each of Archie's cheeks with the water, "and of the Holy Spirit. Let us pray." Everyone bowed their heads as Archie curiously touched the wet spots on his face. "God our Father, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, free this child of the faith from sin, give him a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and welcome him into your holy people. Anoint him with the chrism of salvation." He then dipped his fingers into the water again and touched Archie's head. "Archie Brian James Andrew Fowlis Fraser, son of James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser and Catrina Mary Alaba Brigid Fowlis Fraser. As Christ was anointed Priest, Prophet, and King, so may you live always as a member of His body, sharing everlasting life."
"Amen," we all said. I had to ignore the archbishop's butchering of my very Celtic name - at least he got the Anglican pronunciation of my first name correct, nevermind completely butchering my second and third names. When Jamie mentioned that the Archbishop would need my confirmation name, I'd almost forgotten that I was named for the Christian patron saint of midwives, scholars and the like. Jamie's baptismal name was Alexander and he had adopted it into his full name - he'd said he was named for Saint Alexander, companion to Saint Epipodius, the patron saint of bachelors, victims of betrayal and victims of torture. The rest of the baptism was more of the Archbishop speaking words and having us all say 'Amen', and most of it was the Archbishop addressing Archie and speaking of God.
"By God's gift," the Archbishop said after what felt like another hour of prayers, songs, candle lighting and more ceremony, "through water and the Holy Spirit, we are reborn to everlasting life. In His goodness, may He continue to pour out His blessings upon these sons and daughters of His. May He make them always, wherever they may be, faithful members of His holy people. May He send his peace upon all who are gathered here, in Christ Jesus our Lord." He, he, he. Of course God was a man to the Catholic Church.
"Amen," we all said.
"May Almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, bless you," said the Archbishop, speaking to Archie, who giggled at him.
"Amen," we all said.
"You may return the child to his mother," said the Archbishop. Thank the Lord, I thought to myself as Cailean handed Archie back to me. As I settled Archie back into my arms, I looked up to see the Archbishop taking Brian from Jamie's arms.
"What name do you give this child?" the Archbishop asked him.
"Brian William Cailean Fowlis Fraser," said Jamie. Goddamn it, I thought to myself. We had to sit through another of these?
Brian's baptism was almost exactly the same as Archie's, except the readings were slightly different. The Archbishop still read Matthew 28: 18 - 20 , but in addition to that, he also read Mark 10: 13 - 16: "And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, 'Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.' And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them."
Brian was baptised as Brian William Cailean Nicholas Fowlis Fraser, named for Saint Nichols, the patron saint of sick children. We did not choose that for him.
After the baptism, and several baptisms after that, Jamie and I were gathering up our sons and preparing to leave when we were suddenly stopped by a couple, who were dressed quite ostentatiously, meaning they were of the upper class. "Bonjour, Madame Fraser!" said the high-pitched voice of a young woman. "It is such a great pleasure to finally meet you!"
"Oh, hello," I said to her. "I dinnae believe I ken yer name…"
"Oh, silly me! You have never seen me!" said the young woman, who was fair-haired and quite plain-looking, but very cheerful. She must have been around seventeen or eighteen years of age, but definitely younger than me. "I am Marie Louise Henriette Jean de La Tour d'Auvergne, but you can call me Louise!"
"Oh! Of course!" I exclaimed. "Yes indeed, I have heard much aboot ye! Or rather, I have heard aboot ye through my husband."
"And I much the same!" she said cheerfully, then she grasped the arm of her husband, who was also considerably younger than myself. "This is my husband, Jules de Rohan."
"Prince of Guéméné, madame ," said Jules, who took my offered hand and bent over it to kiss it. "I must say, you are quite a lovely woman. Your husband is very lucky."
"I like te think I'm the lucky one," I said playfully, glancing at Jamie.
"The baptism was magnifique! You have such beautiful sons! But with such a handsome father, it is no surprise," said Louise, looking down at Archie in my arms. "Archie, is it? Is it short for the English 'Archibald'?"
"Oh, no. It is simply the Anglican version of my grandfather's name, the Gaelic Eairdsidh , which is pronounced the same," I said. "It was also my father's name."
" Magnifique! In France, we say ' Archambault '! And the other, his name is…" she asked, trailing off as she tried to recall my son's name.
"Brian," Jamie chimed in. "He is named for my father, Brian Fraser."
"A good French name," said Jules.
"The Fraser clan does originate in France," Jamie told him proudly, as he always sounded when he spoke of his clan. "We would verra much wish te have ye both fer dinner, perhaps later in the week, when an evening works best for ye both."
"How about jeudi ? We have nothing for jeudi !" Louise exclaimed excitedly to her husband. Thursday, she meant.
"Thursday would be a fine day fer us if it will be fer you," Jamie said to Jules, who nodded.
"Perhaps it shall be. We shall see you Thursday, then," said Jules. "I look forward to our meeting on Tuesday."
"As do I, my good brother insists the wines that my cousin will be sending from Italy are the best in the land," Jamie told him.
"Catrina, perhaps you will come to my home for tea someday! We are only three houses down from you!" Louise told me.
"Catrìona, and I would be glad to," I said with a smile.
"Cat-tree-uh-na… You can teach me to pronounce your lovely Scottish name properly!" Louise told me cheerfully, genuinely trying to pronounce my name. The Gaelic language certainly was a difficult language to master, but it was very distantly related to Latin-based language. After all, it is said that the Gaels once came from the coast of France. We bid the de Rohans goodbye, and just as we were about to leave the cathedral, a throat cleared behind us, and we turned to find a rather stout-looking man with an expensive-looking ensemble topped with a curled white powdered wig tied back in a queue.
"Ah, Your Highness, how wonderful to see you!" Cailean said, bowing over the hand of this stout man and kissing his offered hand.
"Cailean, my good friend," said the man in an Italian accent.
"I am glad ye could come te the christening of my nephews," Cailean told him, and then he turned to us. "Your Highness, this is my good brother, James Fraser, and his wife and my sister, Catrìona Fowlis Fraser. Jamie, Catrìona, this is His Royal Highness, Prince Charles Edward Stuart."
" Do mhòrachd! " Jamie said with surprise, and then he, too, bent over the offered hand of the Prince and kissed his hand. "A pleasure te meet ye, Your Highness."
"Cailean tells me you are a loyal supporter to my father's cause," said the prince.
"Indeed, I am," said Jamie. "My wife and I, as well as our newborn sons, have been grievanced and displaced by the English and have become loyal supporters."
"Excellent," said the prince. "Indeed, not for the displacement of your sons. Mark me, their grievances will be avenged." Charles then turned his attention to me, eyeing me cautiously. "What a lovely bride you have, James. She is, what my father would call, a beautiful Scottish dame. What is the name of that fierce warrior woman?"
" Scàthach ," I said. Scàthach was a mythical woman in ancient Scottish lore who was a warrior that trained the Irish hero, Cú Chulainn, who was a mythological demigod who is said to have been an incarnation of the Celtic god, Lugh.
"No, no… Ah, yes. Scota is the woman I am thinking of! An elegant queen, not a warrior!" Charles exclaimed.
"Scota," I repeated with a bit of a tone of disbelief, and Jamie glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. Scota was a creation of the Middle Ages who was said to be the daughter of an Egyptian pharaoh named Cingris who married a Babylonian that travelled to Scotland after the collapse of the Tower of Babel. It is said that in travelling to Scotland, she brought with her the Stone of Scone or Destiny, which was the ancient stone used for the coronations of early medieval Scottish monarchs. The Stone of Destiny was stolen by King Edward I in 1296 and sat beneath the coronation throne after the Treaty of Union in 1707. It was returned to Scotland in 1996, only to be stolen again by King Edward IX in 2100 after the failed first rebellion. Scota is said to be the ancestor of the Gaels who came from Irish invaders who called themselves the Scotti (which was just a Latin form of the name 'Gael'), but truly was a creation by a medieval lawyer by the name of Baldred Bisset to legitimise a Scottish claim to the throne (and prevent an English claim) after the death of Alexander III in 1286. Alexander III's death led to a power vacuum in Scotland after the death of his heir, Margaret, Maid of Norway, in 1290 on her journey to Scotland. That led to thirteen claimants to the throne, including John Balliol and Robert Bruce, which led to King Edward I putting Balliol on the throne, the Scots rebelling, William Wallace fighting for independence (this was what we called the First Scottish War for Independence) and so on. In my time, we didn't believe in Scota, but that could be because I was raised after the rebellion was put down and the books could have been rewritten to dispute this claim.
"Yes, Scota!" said Charles. "You are like Queen Scota."
"How verra flattering," I said. "Te be called a queen by a prince."
"Catrìona even has the Gaelic word for Scotland in her name. Alba, " Jamie chimed in, clearly sensing that I wasn't thrilled about the comparison.
"How very charming," said Charles. He then took my hand and bowed over it, kissing my fingers respectfully. "I look forward to more meetings with you in the future, Madame. "
"And I you, do mhòrachd," I said, curtsying to him as best as I could with Archie in one arm and my other hand being held by the prince.
"What does this word mean?" asked the prince, turning to Jamie and Cailean. "Dough vor-ahk?"
"It is the Gaelic word for 'Your Highness'," said Jamie.
"Ah, yes! The primitive language of my father's subjects," said the prince, and I had to steel my face from appearing offended at this Italian idiot calling my native language 'primitive'. "I should very much look forward to hearing more of it in future meetings. Cailean has been meeting with me at Maison Elise . An establishment for… gentlemen." He side-eyed me. "I do beg your forgiveness, madame. James, loyal supporter of my father's cause, if you will join me there tomorrow night, I shall be glad to have your company. I know that I arranged for a meeting on Saturday, but mark me, I do wish to hear your opinion on the current affairs of my father's land as soon as possible."
"I would be glad to," Jamie told him.
"Excellent," said the prince. "I must go. I shall see you soon. Good day to you all, my friends, madame. " Jamie and Cailean each kissed his hand, and then he bid us farewell.
"'Primitive language', aye?" I asked once he had disappeared.
"Try not te be too offended. The man doesnae ken anything of Scottish culture," Cailean told me, and then he switched to Gaelic so we could not be understood. "His grandsire was banished from his land and his son raised in the Italian court. Ye ken history, the Bonnie Prince couldnae set foot on the land he is owed."
"The land he's owed?" I asked my brother, also in Gaelic. "If ye ask me, he's owed nothin'. A man like that cannae ever learn what the hardships of our people are."
"But we agreed te support him, so we can stop the rebellion. Do ye no' remember that?" Jamie asked me, raising an eyebrow, and I let out a huff.
"I'm just glad it's you dealing with him and no' me. He'd lose his tongue the next time he insulted the people he is tryin' te rule," I replied firmly. "Can we just go home now? I'm burstin' and the lads need te eat."
"Not just them," said Cailean. "I need te eat, too!"
"Then we'll go home," Jamie said, scanning behind him for Murtagh, who disappeared at some point.
"Dinnae fash, he'll find his way home. He'll sniff out our fancy French perfumes," I told him, and Jamie chuckled.
"Aye, that he will," he said, and the three of us, with our newly christened infants in tow, left the cathedral to climb into our carriage and ride on the bumpy cobblestone roads to the ostentatious palace we called a home. "If it helps, Catrìona, I think yer like Sgàthach."
"Do ye?" I asked him.
"Aye, I do," he told me. " Mo bhean laochaire." My warrior woman.