4 May, 1744
Jared's House, Paris, France
I left Jamie in the study reading a letter that had come from Jared, which mentioned the affairs of his estate in the Indies, while I went to check on Beth. According to Suzette, Beth hadn't come down for breakfast and was concerned about her, so I made a point to pay her a visit in her quarters after breakfast. I knocked on the door and received no answer, so I slowly opened the door and poked my head in. "Beth? Beth, a ghràidh , are ye here?" I called. I didn't hear a spoken response, but beneath her blankets, I saw movement, and then Beth poked her small head out from under them.
"Do ye need somethin', Mistress?" she asked sleepily. The poor thing was so pale and her eyes looked sunken.
"Are ye all right? Suzette says ye didnae come down fer breakfast," I said, approaching her and reaching down to lay a hand on her forehead; she was hot to the touch. "Blessed Bride, yer burnin' up."
"I wasnae verra hungry, Mistress," she said back to me.
"I can imagine," I said. "I'm goin' te send a bit of broth up and some tea. Yer te stay in bed, do ye hear me?"
"But what aboot the lads?" she asked me.
"Dinnae fash, I'll care fer 'em. Yer clearly no' well and ye need te rest," I told her.
"How's Mary? Have ye seen her?" Beth asked me sleepily as I brushed her sweat-soaked hair back.
"Not yet, a ghràidh, but I was plannin' on payin' her a visit this afternoon. I'll let her ken ye asked after her, and I'll come and tell ye how she is after," I told her, and she nodded.
"Thank ye, Mistress," she said to me.
"Of course. You rest, now. I'm goin' te tell the other servants yer unwell and te check on ye," I told her, standing and leaving the poor girl to her own devices. She must have picked something up from L'Hôpital, maybe, but that could possibly mean that Mary or I had been exposed as well. I'd have to keep away from the lads, Brian especially, until I knew for sure that I wasn't sick.
Later in the day, after Jamie and Cailean had left for the day, I went to the house that the Hawkins were renting to pay Mary a visit. It was her aunt that saw me, insisting that Mary wasn't allowed guests, according to her husband, but I informed her that I was simply there to examine her medically and was allowed up. I knocked on Mary's door and opened it, finding Mary herself sitting on the bed wiping tears from her sobs. She looked up when she saw me, smiled, and jumped up to run to me and throw her arms around me. "Mistress Fraser! Uncle Silas allowed you in?" she asked me with surprise.
"No, he doesnae ken I'm here. I saw yer aunt and told her I'm here te examine ye, make sure yer well," I informed her. "Beth was askin' after ye, wanted te ken if ye were all right. How are ye, Mary?"
"N-Not great," said Mary meekly. "Uncle Silas… h-he won't l-let me out of the house. And h-he's insisting I-I leave Paris once I-I recover."
"Tha' sounds horrible, a leannan. I wish there was somethin' I could do te help," I told her, and she nodded meekly.
"I-I was g-glad to hear your husband and b-brother were released," Mary told me.
"Yes, it was verra good," I said. "And… aboot Alex…"
"Can I do anything?" asked Mary, perking up.
"Ye can write a letter stating what had happened and explain how he wasnae the one who attacked ye," I told her.
"Oh! Good! I've already d-done that!" Mary exclaimed happily, going to her desk to open a drawer and pull out a sealed letter, then she handed it to me. "Can you b-bring this to the B-Bastille?"
"I'll deliver it at once," I told her, accepting the letter.
"Alex is such a good man," Mary said dreamily. "He has a kind heart… Y-You already know of my fondness of him."
"Indeed I do," I said with a kind smile. "Now, how are ye? How are ye feelin'? Anythin' hurt?" Mary shook her head.
"I f-feel ashamed… L-Like I'm a d-different person, now," she told me sadly. "Like I… I'll n-never be the same."
"I ken how tha' feels. I've had it happen te me, too," I told her. "But what's happened isnae yer fault. Ye've done nothin' wrong, and ye've nothin' te feel ashamed fer. How aboot physically? How is everrathing… down there?" I worded my questions carefully in fear of upsetting her.
"It… it hurt a l-little… and I-I bled a bit… but it's s-stopped now."
"Tha's pretty normal. I brought ye some herbs te help, yer te brew them in hot water. Some can be consumed, some can be applied topically or added to a bath. Ye might notice some… changes… in yer body. It isnae uncommon fer them te happen once ye've… aye."
"Am I… Am I g-going to have a baby?"
"Oh, no, a leannan, " I said to her, brushing a piece of hair out of her face as if she were my own daughter. "No, I… I dinnae believe he… finished. I think I pulled him off of ye quick enough." At this, Mary nodded, her eyes cast to the ground in shame.
"I'm grateful f-for all you've done for m-me, Mistress Fraser," she said to me, and then she looked up at me. "At least… at least th-they can't f-force me to marry the V-Vicomte… Uncle Silas s-says he'd n-never take a soiled bride."
"Well, good riddance. A lass shouldnae have te take a soiled groom," I said to her. "Tha', and yer too pretty and sweet fer such a man. My husband said he possessed the most entitled attitude he's ever seen." At this, Mary giggled.
"I just know that Alex will come to me, when he's freed. W-We're hoping to be married," she told me, and I had to pause and think for a second. Tom had said that Black Jack Randall had married Mary Hawkins, which meant that Mary couldn't marry Alex. And if she did, that would mean that Tom would never be born… "Mistress Fraser?" I heard Mary ask, drawing my attention again. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I just… thought I heard somethin'," I said, and then I stood. "I should go before yer uncle kens I'm here. I'll… deliver this letter fer ye."
"Thank you kindly, Mistress Fraser. I'm glad to have you as a friend," said Mary kindly.
As I left, I contemplated the letter in my pocket. I couldn't condemn Alex to a life of prison, but I also couldn't allow Mary to marry him. If I did, Tom would never be born, and there was no telling how that might screw up the timeline. It was Tom who even convinced me to go to Inverness in the first place, after all. So what could I do? Christ, what have I gotten myself into?
6 May, 1744
Maison Elise, Paris, France
JAMIE POV
Jamie and Cailean were, yet again, on their way to see Charles, but Cailean seemed immensely distracted, constantly pulling out a pocket watch to check the time and unable to focus on the conversation he and Jamie were having. "Are ye all right?" Jamie asked him, startling Cailean a little.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I just… have somewhere te be soon. I just hope the prince doesnae take too long te talk," Cailean told him.
"Somewhere te be? And where's tha'?" Jamie asked him, raising an eyebrow, and Cailean blushed a little and let out a chuckle.
"Well, I… hope ye willnae wring my throat… And fer God's sake, dinnae tell my sister or she will wring my throat… but I've been seein' Madame Gauloise fer some time now," Cailean told him honestly, surprising Jamie quite a bit.
"Annalise?" he asked his brother, who nodded. "Fer how long?"
"Since February, when we met," Cailean answered him. "I ken she's a past lover fer ye, but yer married te my sister, she's widowed…"
"I'm glad fer ye," Jamie said, interrupting him. "And fer her. I trust ye, I ken yer a good man. If ye make her happy, then I'm glad of it."
"Really?" Jamie nodded.
"I'll no' tell Catrìona. She may have a different opinion than I do," Jamie told him as the carriage came to a stop. "Let's get this meetin' over with so ye can go and meet Annalise." The two of them climbed down from the carriage to enter Maison Elise, finding Charles with a rather busty girl on his lap indulging in her… gifts. He had yet to notice the two of them, so Jamie cleared his throat to draw Charles's attention.
"James! Cailean! My good friends," said Charles. "Off, now, my dear, but I shall see you soon," he said to the girl, who slid off of his lap and disappeared.
"How are ye, Yer Highness?" Cailean asked as he and Jamie sat down at the table.
"Excellent!" Charles exclaimed happily. "The female haze that once clouded my mind has been lifted. I have excellent news that I must share with you!"
"We'd be glad te hear it," said Jamie, accepting a glass of wine from a servant.
"The house's finest bottle of Burgundy, for the occasion," Charles said as the servant filled Cailean's glass next. Once the servant was gone, Charles raised his glass, Cailean and Jamie doing the same, and took a sip from it.
"Is, er… this te do with yer investors?" Jamie asked, somewhat hopefully, and Charles made a sour face.
"Oh, make no mention of those traitorous scoundrels. They have shown their true colours. Even Alasdair Fowlis has backed down!" Charles exclaimed.
"Well, Yer Highness, my cousin had a pretty large fine te pay after what happened at the dinner," Cailean told him. "Even though Monsieur Duverney vouched fer us that it was all in error, we still had te pay. He's a son te feed, after all."
"Hmph," said Charles, sipping his wine again. "What if I were to tell you that we were about to come into possession of ten thousand pounds?"
"Sterling?" Jamie asked him, and Charles smiled. "Er… I'd say this is what we were waitin' fer…"
"Excellent! I have dispatched a letter to my father informing him of our good fortune!" Charles said happily.
"That'll likely be intercepted several times," Cailean muttered to Jamie in Gaelic.
"What was that?" Charles asked him.
"He said a phrase of good fortune," said Jamie as Cailean took a sip from his glass. "It doesnae translate well into English."
"Indeed," said Charles, but then he brushed it off. "Mark me, my friends, the King has led a dolorous life full of misfortune, and now I stand poised to lay at his feet the world's most treasured gift… the throne of Great Britain."
"Tha's excellent news indeed," Cailean chimed in. "But who is it tha' offers such a prize?"
"The Comte Saint Germain," said Charles proudly, and Jamie and Cailean exchanged a glance. Catrìona had said that the prince had left the dinner with Saint Germain, and they should have known it would lead to such a deal.
"The Comte?" Jamie asked. "What stake does he have in the claim fer the English throne?"
"Business," Charles replied. "We agreed that if he helped to fund a rebellion, I would grant him a monopoly on wine selling in London."
"I see," said Jamie. "And what is his plan fer providin' such funds?"
"He wishes to buy a large shipment of Portuguese Madeira. However, the Comte is short of funds and in desperate need of a business partner. He informs me that a woman was the cause of his lack of funds, but he would not say who."
"Surprisin'," said Cailean.
"A business partner, aye?" Jamie asked, already knowing what Charles was going to ask of him. "And what does the Comte require?"
"I have secured a loan, with the help of Monsieur Duverney, thanks to you, James, to provide half of the funds to buy the shipment. Once we sell the wine, we shall earn ourselves a rich profit," Charles explained.
"But that isnae enough te fund an army, Yer Highness," said Cailean. "It is a great amount of money, sure, but that willnae provide all tha' we need."
"But it should be enough te begin securin' ships and weapons," Jamie said to him, giving him a look suggesting that he had a plan for manipulating this latest obstacle.
"That is correct, James! And fighting men, too, for our holy cause. Trained fighting men, rather than those… farmers you mentioned," Charles said dismissively.
"Those farmers are the backbone of yer rebellion," Cailean reminded him as he sipped his wine, but Charles waved him off.
"Certainly! And though Monsieur Duverney has agreed to help me secure a loan, he is not convinced that it will be enough to convince my cousin. Once Monsieur Duverney hears what we are to accomplish, he shall have proof for my cousin that it is a worthy investment," Charles told the two men, referring to King Louis as his cousin. "And with French money, we will unite the clans, and I will lead you all to the gates of London and to glory!"
"Good news, indeed," said Jamie.
"Yer Highness, as my sister said at dinner, unitin' the clans is easier said than done. Ye'll have te convince them with more than money te get them te sit in the same room, let alone ride behind ye as an army," Cailean told him.
"Then I am glad to have the support of two loyal clansmen," Charles said to them. "I am counting on you both to speak on my behalf to the clan leaders to unite them under my cause."
"Of course," said Jamie. "As fer yer plan, I am assumin' ye wish fer us te partner up with Saint Germain? Given that we are currently runnin' my cousin's business."
"Excellent observational skills, James! Yes, I would so appreciate a partnership between the two of you," Charles told him.
"I cannae deny that the idea of a partnership with Saint Germain does leave me uneasy," Jamie told him.
"I am aware of his damnable reputation, James," Charles told him.
"Ye've heard he dwells in heretical circles," Cailean chimed in. "Demonic rituals and all tha'."
"Rumour and innuendo," said Charles firmly. "I pay no more attention to that than I do to the rumours about your wife, James. La Dame Blanche , is it?" At this, Cailean narrowed his eyes.
"My sister doesnae engage in heretical witchcraft," Cailean told him with a warning in his tone. Jamie's eyebrows raised slightly, but he quickly corrected his expression before Charles could notice - he'd have to ask if Cailean knew about her Paganism later.
"Rumour and innuendo, no?" said Charles snidely, sipping his wine. "The Comte is no lover of my cause, but he is a man of business, and men of business generally keep true to their word. I have arranged for your business to sell the wine that Saint Germain brings from Portugal."
"Ye have?" Jamie asked him with surprise, not expecting the arrangement to have already been made.
"Who better to secure the buyer and keep an eye on Saint Germain than you ?" Charles asked him.
"Er… When are we te expect this shipment?" Jamie asked him after a moment.
"Oh, do not plague me with workmen's concerns," said Charles, waving him off. "I have arranged for you to meet with Saint Germain in Maison Elise to discuss particulars. Tomorrow evening, if you will."
"Tomorrow evenin'?" Jamie asked, but Charles ignored him, seemingly refusing to listen as he was known to do. He simply raised his wine glass in a toast.
"To the glorious day when the rightful king sits upon the British throne once more," he said. Cailean and Jamie exchanged a quick glance.
On the carriage ride home, Cailean was sitting relatively quietly, still checking his pocket watch. "Ye could have taken the carriage. I wouldnae have minded walkin' home," Jamie told him, but Cailean shook his head.
"No, I've heard rumours of attacks on men like us by bandits. I'll no' let ye put yerself at risk, Catrìona would never forgive me," Cailean told him.
"Speakin' of yer sister, what do ye think of this whole… La Dame Blanche thing?" Jamie asked his good brother.
"Yer the one who started it," Cailean reminded him. "Is tha' not some sort of witch? My sister isnae a witch, ye ken."
"Aye, I ken that well," Jamie replied. "She's told me, though, that yer mother was somethin' like a white lady."
"In our time, healthcare was no' available te most people on Barra. It just wasnae feasible and no one could afford it. Mam became a herbalist. She was a nurse before tha' and put out of work by the economy, so she started her own herbal remedies practice because herbs were more affordable than medicine. That doesnae make her a 'white lady'. Catrìona was probably just tryin' te explain it in terms ye'd understand."
"So do ye no' ken she practises Paganism?"
"I ken aboot it. Catrìona always wanted te be like Mam. She was Pagan, Da was Catholic. The rest of us practised Catholicism, but she and Mam were just… different. From the rest of us. I dinnae stop her because I ken she wants te be close te Mam."
"And ye ken ye cannae stop her no matter what," Jamie reminded him, and Cailean let out a heavy sigh.
"Aye, tha' too. She's a stubborn woman, tha's fer certain," Cailean replied. "I'll hop out here, Annalise's home isnae far." Cailean called to the footman to stop the carriage and he hopped out, turning to face Jamie before departing. "See what my sister has te say aboot what Charles is plannin'. I'll bet ye she'll have a plan already brewin' in case somethin' like this happened." With that said, he closed the door of the carriage, then went on his merry way to warm Annalise's bed.
Jared's House, Paris, France
CATRÌONA POV
I was in the nursery with the lads when Jamie entered the room, a rather solemn look on his face. I couldn't help but cock my eyebrow, trying to ignore the pain from Archie pulling on my hair. "Why the long face?" I asked him, and he let out a sigh, sitting down on the floor beside me and taking Brian into his lap.
"Charles has made an arrangement with Saint Germain," he told me. "He's makin' me meet him tomorrow evenin'."
"What's the arrangement?" I asked, skipping the obvious 'oh, shit'.
"He's te ship wine from Portugal and I'm te receive it and find a buyer," Jamie replied.
"Portugal, aye?" I asked, and Jamie nodded. "Didnae Jared say tha' Saint Germain's ship, the Patagonia , the one that burned when we were at Le Havre, came from Portugal?"
"Aye," Jamie said, raising an eyebrow. "What are ye thinkin'?"
"I'm thinkin' tha' Portugal is seein' a smallpox outbreak," I told him.
"I dinnae even ken if the shipment is comin' from the same port. I'm sure I'm te find out tomorrow, but… I dinnae ken. We'll come up with somethin' when I ken fer sure," Jamie replied, looking down at his son in his lap. "He seems pale. Paler than usual. Miss MacCraig hasnae been around him, has she?"
"No, she's still unwell. She said she was feeling a bit better, but no' enough te come near the lads," I told him. "Brian's no' been exposed. I think this is just… him."
"Ye dinnae think he's nearin' his time, do ye?" Jamie asked, now meeting my eyes with worry swimming in them, and I let out a sigh.
"I dinnae ken. It's hard te say," I answered. "I'm doin' all I can fer him, but… I fear I'm just delayin' the inevitable."
"I hope that isnae the case," Jamie replied, his eyes on his son. It was such a sweet sight, Jamie cradling his small son in his arms, protecting him from everything outside that could bring him harm. But Jamie couldn't protect Brian from whatever it was that was happening inside of him. Only time could tell what was to come, but exactly how much time did we have left?
7 May, 1744
Maison Elise, Paris, France
JAMIE POV
Jamie agreed to meet Saint Germain alone, thinking it better for the man to meet only one of them. Cailean had offered to meet Saint Germain so Jamie didn't have to, but Jamie refused, insisting he wanted to be the one to meet with him. What he wanted to do was look the bastard in the eye and dare him to threaten his wife again. He wanted to threaten him back, but he also knew that he couldn't ruin this for Charles before it had even started. No, a plan still needed to be formulated, but first, he needed to hear what it was Saint Germain had to say. He was already seated at the table when the man in question arrived, silently sitting down at the table across from Jamie.
"Lord Broch Tuarach," said Saint Germain menacingly.
" Le Comte ," Jamie replied to him. "Allow me to start out with this," Jamie told him in French. "I do not wish to be joined in business together, nor do I wish to sit in your presence longer than is needed, so let's just get on with it, shall we?" Saint Germain gave him a subtle, but wicked smirk, then sat up straight as a servant poured wine into his glass.
"Certainly," said Saint Germain, also in French. "I shall be purchasing fifty cases of Madeira wine. It shall be shipped to my warehouse in Sesimbra before it will depart on my ship, the Scalamandre , on the first of June."
"June? I am surprised His Royal Highness is willing to wait as long," Jamie told him. He didn't touch his wine, so long as it was poured in the presence of Saint Germain, who eyed it suspiciously before meeting Jamie's eyes again.
"He does not have a choice," Saint Germain said with venom in his tone. "The ship will arrive in Le Havre either on the fifth or the sixth, depending on the weather. In the meantime, you will secure a buyer." Jamie could hear Catrìona's voice in his head saying, 'Oh, I will, now, will I?' Jamie nodded.
"And when shall we be in contact?" he asked the man.
"Contact me when, and only when, you have found a buyer," Saint Germain told him.
"Gladly," Jamie told him.
"And you will keep your wife far away from my ship when it arrives," Saint Germain told him firmly. "I have a very long memory." Jamie almost snorted when he heard his wife's voice in his head say, 'What, so you can bring another infested smallpox plague ship into port?' Instead, he narrowed his eyes at the man briefly.
"Since you have brought up my wife," Jamie told him, leaning in a bit closer to this snake-like man. "Allow me to make this very clear. Someone attempted to poison my wife, then attacked her in the street and raped her friend." He saw the brows of the Comte shift slightly, possibly in recognition. "My memory is as long as yours. When I find the man responsible, he'll die a very slow and painful death." Saint Germain said nothing, and Jamie sat back in his chair. "Very well, I shall secure a buyer and contact you when I have one. Good day to you." He stood and was very glad to get out of there, needing to rush home to update Catrìona on the latest news.
"If this is successful and Charles gets his hand on tha' money, secure other investors and Bride kens what else, I have no doubt he'll sail fer Scotland straight away," she said to him in the study when he'd informed her. "We cannae let them succeed. We have te find a way te intercept it. Ye said the ship leaves Portugal on the sixth of June, aye?"
"Aye, Sesimbra," Jamie confirmed for her.
"Then we have a month te make plans," she said, her mind buried deep in thought. "Right… I've heard rumours at L'Hôpital tha' Portuguese ports are still seein' a lot of smallpox infections."
"Maybe he'll do us a favour and bring in another infected ship," Jamie told her, pouring the pair of them each a glass of whisky and handing her one.
"Huh," she said, thinking for a moment. "Aye, he might…"
"Oh, I was only jokin'."
"I wasnae," she said, turning to look at him. "We cannae guarantee he brings another infected sailor onboard - he might be screenin' them now, after what happened in Le Havre, but once the ship is at sea…"
"What are ye thinkin'?" Jamie asked her. "Ye dinnae have smallpox bottled up amongst yer potions, do ye?"
"Not the actual disease, but yer clever wife kens quite a few herbs that can mimic the symptoms," Catrìona replied. "Nettles can cause red boils, as can the flowers of wild parsnip. And I ken where te find some, too. At Jardin du Luxembourg , there's a patch of 'em, but it doesnae take effect fer a few days, which will be perfect fer what we're doin'. Bitter cascara will give us the vomiting, diarrhoea and fever needed te mimic the disease… as will lobelia, if I can find some. Master Raymond might have some."
"Are ye suggestin' we get on tha' ship and fake smallpox?" Jamie asked, and she nodded.
"Aye, I am. Well, no' we - I was thinkin' someone Saint Germain might no' have seen before. Like Murtagh."
"Murtagh? I suppose he'd be willin' te do it, but he may no' agree with it at first," Jamie replied to his clearly very eager wife.
"If he still wishes te help us, I'm sure he will, and you and Fergus should go te Le Havre, maybe rub the clothes of some of the dockworkers with the parsley or nettles," Catrìona replied. "I'll have te go te Master Raymond's, see if he has any bitter cascara or lobelia, even wild parsnip flowers."
"Dinnae forget, we're expected at Versailles' stables tomorrow. I'm te help the Duke with the purchase of a team of horses," Jamie reminded her, and she let out a frustrated grunt.
"Ye owe that man nothin'. He didnae even try te help ye when ye were in the Bastille!" she said bitterly.
"No, but I dinnae wish te be the subject of his disfavour either," Jamie told her, standing from his seat and approaching her.
"Then we'll test out the herbs on him," she said to him, and he chuckled.
"I dinnae think that would help much, either," Jamie told her, wrapping his arms firmly around her. "Mmm, my pestilence-bringin' wife."
"I'll bet tha's not somethin' ye had in mind when ye married me, is it?" she asked, and he chuckled and gave her a light kiss.
"Not in the slightest," he said with amusement. "Ye sure do make my life interestin'."
"Good, ye'll never live a boring, unconventional life," Catrìona replied, kissing him again. "Do ye have anythin' else te do today?"
"Not that I can think of," Jamie replied, taking her hint and tightening his grip on her. His hand slid down to her buttocks and gave them a gentle squeeze, and her cheeks flushed a similar colour to her bright red hair. "But I suppose I can think of one thing I'd like te be doin'…"
"Me, is it?" she asked, and he let out a laugh, then bent down to slip his arm behind her knees and picked her up.
"You, for certain," he said, and then he carried her out of the study, bound for the comforting warmth of their bed.