Featured Gaelic and Pronunciations:

- Tha mi a' ghealltainn (hah mee ah yer-ahl-tayn) - I promise

8 May, 1744

Versailles, Paris, France

"I do miss the scent of a stable," Jamie said as we crossed the lawn of the stables at Versailles, the scent of straw and manure suffocating our nostrils.

"Tha' makes one of us," Cailean said with amusement. I, on the other hand, kept quiet as I held onto Jamie's arm. The scent was making me quite nauseous, for some strange reason. My period must have been close, as I sometimes got nauseous in the days leading up to it. The last time I'd had it was late March, but my cycle was always irregular, so it was no surprise that when I stopped using contraceptives, my period went haywire. I had to rely on subtle signs like nausea to tell when it was coming.

"Jamie! My good lad!" I heard Sandringham's voice behind us, and the three of us turned around to face him. "Ah, your glowing bride, and your kind brother. How wonderful to see you both."

"Good day te ye, Yer Grace," Cailean told him.

"My dear, your beauty is ravishing, as usual," the Duke said to me, and I nodded subtly, suddenly raising my hand to my mouth.

"I… I think I may be ill," I said. "Nothin' contagious and nothin' out of the ordinary, but the scents are makin' me quite nauseous."

"Are ye sure yer all right?" Jamie asked me, a worrisome look on his face, and I nodded.

"Just my courses," I answered him in Gaelic.

"Ah, you've not had them in some time. I was starting to think…" Jamie replied, also in Gaelic, and I shook my head.

"No, no. I always get a bit of an upset stomach around this time. Na gabh dragh , I'll be fine," I replied, giving him a comforting smile, and then I turned my attention back to all three of the men, speaking in English again. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll go fer a walk in the gardens, away from these smells."

"I'll come with ye," Cailean said, and the two of us left Jamie and the Duke to their devices.

JAMIE POV

Jamie went from horse to horse, examining them from the thickness of their manes to the strength of their hindquarters. He came across one mare who was a rich mahogany colour with soft hair and a beautiful mane, and he reached out a hand to allow her to sniff him. "What a bonny lass ye are," he said to the horse, and then he turned to the Duke. "Fair, strong back, straight-legged and sound at the hip. No' only will she make a good horse te have, but she'll be an excellent breeder. She'll make strong foals, so long as ye've got a strong stallion te pair with her."

"I am counting on you to help me find one for her," the Duke said in response, admiring Jamie as he worked. "I'll take her," he said to the groom who was tending the mare. The Duke's new secretary stopped to make conversation with the groom, likely to make the purchase, as Jamie and the Duke moved onto the next one.

"This laddie is dull in the eye and his legs arenae so strong," Jamie said as he admired the next one, then moved on.

"I was very displeased to hear of your legal woes, especially after such a lovely dinner," the Duke said to him. "The Bastille… Perish the thought!"

"I wasnae at the Bastille fer long, but I did have te pay a considerable fine fer fightin' in public," Jamie replied. "Other poor devils had been there fer decades."

"Ah, well. Life can be harsh," said the Duke, who likely never knew a harsh day in his life. "It may be some consolation to your wife to know that your dinner party was not entirely wasted," Sandringham said, and Jamie couldn't help but cock his eyebrow. "Oh, come now, Jamie. I know exactly what that dinner party was for. It achieved what you desired, and allowed me to take the measure of your price."

"I see," said Jamie. "And what was yer assessment?"

"My considered opinion? He's an utter ass, no better than his father. His cause will be lost before it can be found, if he chooses to pursue it," Sandringham told him.

"I'm sorry te hear yer opinion of the prince is such," Jamie replied, not looking at Sandringham.

"I imagine you are, especially since you seem to have pledged yourself to his service," said Sandringham, stopping the two of them in their tracks. "There are better men for the job, Jamie." Jamie didn't answer him, but instead turned to look at the horses again.

"They claim they're three-year-olds, but… This lass has seen a fair few seasons more," Jamie said after a moment, examining the teeth of a brown mare.

"Your knowledge astounds me, but I wonder that someone who is such a good judge of horseflesh is such a poor judge of men," Sandringham said, continuing the conversation that Jamie had tried to end.

"I see the prince fer what he is," Jamie told him, not turning his attention from the mare as he continued to examine her. "However, his father is the true king. That I ken fer certain."

"Nobly said," said Sandringham.

"Ah, now there is a fine stallion," said Jamie, leaving the mare to approach a strong-looking black stallion.

CATRÌONA POV

Cailean and I walked in silence for a bit towards the gardens, the scents of the stables thankfully fading away the farther we got. My nausea did not subside, but it did become more bearable. "Are ye sure yer all right?" Cailean asked me after a moment.

"I'm fine," I said.

"That conversation aboot yer courses… Do ye think ye might be…"

"No," I said, interrupting him. "No, I've been takin' herbs te help prevent tha' since Jamie and I… Blessed Bride, why am I discussin' my bedroom habits with my brother?" At this, Cailean laughed.

"Just want te make sure yer all right," Cailean said. A throat cleared behind us and the two of us turned to find the fair-haired Alasdair Fowlis standing behind us. "Oh, good day te ye, Mr. Fowlis," Cailean said to him politely. Our exchanges with Alasdair Fowlis since the dinner had been a lot more cordial, as it was evident some form of a bond was forming between us - familial?

"Good day te ye both. I'm glad te have found ye," he said to us. "I was hopin' te have a conversation with ye."

"Oh? Aboot what?" I asked him.

"Yer father," Alasdair told us. "I believe what ye've told me te be the truth, that ye grew up on Barra, that yer father was killed by the English. I ken, too, that Cailean here looks remarkably similar te my cousin, and ye both have the Fowlis eyes… and the personality traits."

"We've got tha' Fowlis fire, do we?" Cailean said with a light chuckle. "Da always said it was a common trait te all Fowlises of Barra."

"Indeed it is," said Alasdair. "Ye also say somethin' tha' I've only ever heard members of my immediate family say… Ye called us both 'gabbots', Catrìona, when yer brother and I were concerned aboot yer well-being after the attack."

"Aye? Where are ye goin' with this?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"My father told me that he, my aunt and my uncle invented the word when they were children," Alasdair said. "They used it among their families as well, and my cousins, siblings and I all grew up using the word. I would find it strange if ye werenae related te us, but kent the word."

"Aye, our father used te say it all the time," Cailean told him.

"What I dinnae understand is why yer bringin' this up te us, Alasdair," I said suddenly. "Do ye ken somethin' aboot our father's disappearance?"

"You tell me," Alasdair replied. "Ye would have had te have been born after he disappeared, yet yer ages put ye at bein' born before." At this, Cailean and I both exchanged a glance. Did Alasdair Fowlis know we weren't from this time? We'd never explicitly said that we were the children of Archie Fowlis, son of the Laird of Cìosamul - at least, I hadn't - so how would Alasdair Fowlis even know? "Yer expressions speak volumes," he said after a moment. "Are ye familiar with a place kent as Pobull Fhinn?"

"Pobull Fhinn?" I asked, and I opened my mouth to speak again when I was suddenly interrupted by a shrill squeal.

" Mon sauvage!" Annalise de Marillac exclaimed, attaching herself to Cailean's arm and kissing both of his cheeks. "I am thrilled to find you here! Oh!" She stopped when she saw me. " Bonjour , Lady Broch Tuarach! You are looking very well!"

"Thank ye kindly," I said, masking my bitterness as I gave Cailean a look. "Ye look… verra well yerself."

"I thank you very much," she told me. "Come, I shall join you for your walk in the gardens!"

"I believe I should go and search for my wife. She has joined me from Scotland," said Alasdair. He bowed to us all, then left, leaving us wondering what the hell it was he wanted to discuss with us.

"You ladies go ahead, I want te go and check in with Jamie, find out how much longer he intends te help Sandringham," Cailean said. He kissed Annalise's hand and then gave me one final look before he quickly disappeared. Clever bastard, running off before I could question why the hell Annalise was hanging off of him like Louise's monkey in her cage. Annalise and I went for a walk, and I was silent while I listened to Annalise comment on the elaborate, ornate beauty of the garden and of Versailles.

"Tell me, you have lived in Scotland," Annalise said after a moment. "Compared to Paris, do you find life to be simpler?"

"In some ways," I answered. "We dinnae spend elaborate amounts of money decoratin' our homes with gold-embellished things. We dinnae have a use fer it. But Scotland can be quite complicated, too. We're no' savages, fer one. The politics and manipulations among the clans can rival what goes on at Versailles easily."

"Fascinating," said Annalise. "James was never a man for such intrigues…"

"I beg yer pardon?" I asked her, stopping in my tracks.

"Not in the days of our past, of course! He was direct, honest, simple," Annalise replied.

"Jamie isnae a simple man," I told her, narrowing my eyes. "And neither is my brother, if tha's where yer goin' with this."

"Indeed not! James is not simple today, that is for certain," said Annalise. "Now, he is a man of politics, of business… Just like all of the others."

"He's still Jamie, and I doubt he will ever lose sight of who he truly is. He certainly hasnae yet."

"When I knew him, he was impulsive and headstrong." At this, I couldn't help but scoff.

"He still is. Ye dinnae ken him at all if ye think he's lost any of those attributes," I said with a bit of annoyance in my tone.

"I knew him when he was a boy, you know him as a man. Do not take my words as if they are barbs. I admire James, but he has found happiness with you. You are well suited for him," Annalise said, glancing forward as if to start walking again. "Oh, but there is a rather dashing man over there staring at us. He seems quite taken with you."

"I'd hope not-" I began to say as I followed Annalise's gaze, and I froze, my heart beginning to pound as I locked eyes with someone who made my skin crawl and my blood boil cold. Approaching us, wearing the red jacket of the English dragoons, was Captain Black Jack Randall himself, looking perfectly healthy and alive as ever. As he approached, I kept my gaze on him, the venom of hatred swimming in my eyes, an equal dislike in his.

"Madam Fraser," he said to me, bowing slightly, but grimacing a little. I didn't answer him, and Annalise glanced between us.

"You are acquainted?" Annalise asked us.

"Yes, we are," I said, steeling my expression. "How are ye, Captain Randall?" I asked him. "It seems yer in a bit of discomfort."

"I met with an accident some time ago," Randall said, his eyes locked on mine.

"Oh, I did hear. Somethin' aboot… sheep?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Cattle, actually," said Randall. "The type of cattle that you would be familiar with, being a highlander, Madam Fraser."

"I'm no' a highlander. I'm from the islands. Ye'll ken im a Fowlis of Barra?" I asked the man.

"Yes, I do recall," he told me firmly.

"Hmph," I said. "If ye both will excuse me, I am… feeling a wee bit unwell."

"I will call for your husband," Annalise said.

"Oh, no, it's all right," I began to say, but Annalise was already gone.

"Jamie? He's here?" Randall asked me as I turned back to look at him. "Where?"

"None of yer concern. Ye should be more worried about me bein' here," I told him. "How's yer skull? I understand ye took a nasty hit from a hammer."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Randall asked me. "Where is Jamie?"

"Hopin' te cut yer throat, so ye'd best scram before he sees ye," I spat back.

"That would be a lethal mistake," Randall informed me. "Drawing a sword in the presence of the king is a crime punishable by death."

"He wanted te be dead after what ye did te him," I hissed.

"The fates are toying with us," Randall told me with amusement. "We are set on diverging paths, and yet, they always seem to converge in the most unlikely of places."

"I can only guess why yer here. Yer brother was dismissed from the service of the Duke, so yer here te offer yer bum te earn his service back," I said. "I'm here because you are responsible fer the loss of my home."

"Surely, someone like yourself can appreciate the sublime preposterousness of a universe that would guide us to a meeting at the French court," Randall said to me.

"Not really," I replied, trying to push past him, but he grabbed my wrist. "Let go of me , ye bastard," I hissed through gritted teeth.

"I do not think you will want to leave when the king has only just arrived," said Randall, and I turned to see that we were indeed joined by King Louis himself and his entourage.

"Lady Broch Tuarach," said the king in French. "Your beauty continues to baffle me. I am glad to set my eyes on you once more."

"I thank you, Your Highness," I said, curtsying to him. "Er… May I introduce Captain Jonathan Randall, Esquire, Captain of His Majesty's Eighth Dragoons."

"Dragoons? What ever is a dragoon?" asked a member of the King's entourage in French.

"A light cavalryman in battle who may also dismount as an infantryman," Randall explained in French, still in his bow to the king, and the entourage laughed until the king held out a hand to stop them.

"You will forgive the rudeness of these children, Captain," the king told Randall, switching to English. "The French language is not easily mastered by the English."

"I took no offence, sire," Randall informed him, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Oh, but perhaps the King has offended you, Madame Fraser?" the King asked me.

"Indeed no', Yer Majesty. I am not English," I said politely.

"The King admires your uniform, Captain. It is so… seldomly seen at this court," the King said to Randall. "Such bold colours as befit the brave soldiers of your sovereign."

"They say that red hides the blood, Your Majesty," one of the members of the king's entourage said, leading the rest to chuckle until the king stopped them again.

"A pity that your countrymen are usually too busy slaughtering each other to exchange such pleasantries," said the king to Randall - or both of us - and ignoring his entourage.

"Speaking as a soldier of many years, Your Majesty, I must say that I find war preferable to politics," Randall replied.

"And speakin' as a healer, I find both te be abhorrent. They both cause an unnecessary end te many lives, war especially," I chimed in, causing Randall to send me a glare.

"At least in war, you know your enemies," Randall told me firmly.

"Hmm, the King finds some truth in what you say," the King said to us both. "War indeed does cause such unnecessary death. Politics lead to war, and war leads to death." The King then turned his attention to Randall, who turned his attention back to the king from me. "However, we do hope that your affection for carnage does not ultimately prove fatal for you." The entourage chuckled again, and the king allowed them until their chuckles fizzled out. "You and the Captain are friends, Madame Fraser?"

"We are acquainted," I answered, subconsciously placing my hand on my stomach as a wave of nausea took over me. I could smell a whiff of manure, so the wind must have been carrying the scent.

"Hmm, does that not present difficulty with your husband? He is, after all, a great Scottish warrior, and you a fine Scottish lady, and both great supporters of my cousin's rightful claim to the British throne," the King asked me.

"We ken each other. Tha's aboot the extent of our acquaintanceship," I answered.

"Oh, but perhaps you have not met Lord Broch Tuarach!" the king exclaimed, gesturing over our shoulders, and I could hear approaching footsteps and suddenly, Jamie appeared in my field of vision between myself and Randall.

"Captain Randall and I have met many times, Yer Majesty," Jamie said, bowing to the king. I took his arm into mine to pull him a little closer to me, holding on tightly to his arm; he placed his hand over mine and gave it a firm squeeze. "Are ye well, Captain?"

"Very well, sir. I thank you," Randall replied.

"I heard you had an unfortunate encounter with… sheep, was it?" I stifled a snort with a subtle cough into my handkerchief, having had the same thought.

" Cattle , actually," said Randall, reacting to my cough.

"Ah, but now you are quite recovered, I see," Jamie said to him.

"Mostly," Randall replied. "I still have difficulty getting out of bed on cold mornings."

"I understand the weather shall be warm in Paris all week," Jamie told him.

"You need to have no concern for my health then," said Randall in a strained effort to be polite.

"Delighted te hear," said Jamie, giving my hand another squeeze. "Tell us, Captain. What brings ye here te Paris?"

"I am, in fact, here on an errand of mercy to aid my brother," Randall said, and then he turned his attention to the king. "Your Majesty, until recently, my brother was in the employ of the Duke of Sandringham. I have come here to ask His Grace to reconsider his position."

"How noble of ye," I chimed in, earning another squeeze of my hand from Jamie.

"Perhaps you should beg," said the King.

"Beg, Your Majesty?" Randall asked the King, who gave him a small smirk.

"Yes. On your knees," said the King. "To ask such a favour of the Duke would not be possible. To beg , however, that is a different matter." Randall stared at him rather dumbfounded as the King's smirk grew. "On your knees." Randall's eyes darted to the entourage, who were sharing the King's smirk, and must have realised that he was being told by the King to get onto his knees. Slowly, he sunk down onto his knees, and the King and the entourage began to laugh. "Not now. You English are so… literal. The King gives you leave to rise. It would be a shame to stain such pretty britches."

"Of-Of course," said Randall awkwardly as the entourage laughed, standing back up, his face the same colour as his coat. The King, still with amusement dancing in his eyes, then looked to myself and Jamie.

"You may retire as well, Lord Broch Tuarach, as may your lovely Lady," the King said to us, and Jamie and I, respectively, bowed and curtsied to him, and Jamie glanced at Randall one final time before leading me away from him.

"Are ye really unwell, mo nighean ? Annalise said ye werenae feelin' well still," Jamie said to me quietly as he led me away.

"Just a bit. I could use a bit of a lie down or maybe some ginger," I said, my hand resting on my clearly very unhappy stomach.

"Could ye wait just a moment?" Jamie asked me, stopping us in our tracks and I glanced up at him with my brow raised.

"Aye, I can… Why? Jamie, what are ye-" I began to say, but he cut me off by kissing my forehead and letting me go to retrace his steps back to Randall. I saw them exchange a few words, then the two men bowed to each other and Jamie approached me, a slight smile on his face. "Jamie, what've ye done?"

"I challenged him te a duel, and he accepted," Jamie told me. "Come, mo ghràidh , I'll take ye back te the carriage so ye can head back home. I still have dealin's with the Duke."

"Jamie!" I snapped at him, pulling my arm from his grasp. "What do ye think yer doin'? Are ye mad?"

"He said he owed me a death, and I want te give him his," Jamie replied. " Tiugainn , ye said ye werenae feelin' well, and I need te find yer brother."

"I'm no' goin' anywhere! Go back there and call off that duel!" I hissed at him, pulling my arm from his again.

"I'll no' do that," he told me somewhat firmly. "Fine, if ye willnae return te the carriage with me, ye can find yer own way. Have ye any idea where yer brother went?" Irritably, I rolled my eyes and shoved past him, making sure to nearly knock him off of his feet as I pushed past him. After a moment, I paused and turned back around.

"Be home fer dinner," I said to him firmly, and then I turned and continued on my own path to the carriage.

Master Raymond's Apothecary, Paris, France

On the way home, I decided to stop at Master Raymond's to ask about some of the herbs, or at least put an order in so he could get them in time for the ship's arrival. "What can I do for you today, Madonna? I must say, you are positively glowing on this fine day," he said to me, possibly sensing the tense mood I possessed.

"Thank ye kindly, Master Raymond," I said. "Have ye go' any lobelia, by chance?"

"Lobelia? That is not an herb native to these parts, Madonna," Master Raymond said to me. "What uses do you have for it?"

"Oh, it's verra good fer asthma, but only in small doses," I said, masking my tense mood as best as I could. "Or in higher doses, but no' too high, it is good fer clearin' the bowels or the stomach. Sort of like bitter cascara, only less intense."

"Fascinating, I would never have guessed! I may have some in stock. Anything else, Madonna?" Master Raymond asked me.

"Do ye have any wild parsnip flowers?" I asked him, and at this, he raised an eyebrow.

"Are they not poisonous?" he asked me.

"They can be used fer nausea, which has been persistent fer me," I said. Partially true, but that was mainly the root and parts of the leaves.

"Those I do not carry, Madonna, but I have seen some in gardens," said Master Raymond. "Might I suggest ginger instead?"

"I've used so much of it, I am startin' te dislike the flavour," I lied with a subtle chuckle.

"I see," said Master Raymond. "Tell you what, Madonna. I will find your lobelia, and if I do not have it, I will fetch some for you. I will also find you some wild parsnip flowers, if you do promise me you will be careful."

"Scout's honour," I said, causing him to raise an eyebrow again. "Er… I promise." With the herbs secured for the near future, I made my way back home, prepared for the argument that was likely to brew. When I climbed into the carriage, I paused for a moment in thought, then spoke to the driver before giving my orders of where I wanted to go. "Can ye take me te the Bastille?"

Jamie wouldn't put a stop to his duel, so I would have to be the one to do it for him.

Jared's House, Paris, France

"I'll arrange the particulars with his second," I heard Murtagh's voice carry up the corridor and into the study, where I was seated at a desk composing a letter to Jenny. The footsteps approached and the door was pushed open, allowing Murtagh, Cailean and Jamie to all enter the study, disturbing my peace.

"As the challenged, Randall will select the weapons," Cailean was saying, going over to the whisky and pouring three glasses. Evidently, the three of them did not even know I was there.

"Aye, and what if it's pistols?" Jamie asked him, accepting the glass from Cailean.

"He'll no' take pistols!" Murtagh said with a chuckle.

"Aye, true. It's too quick, too far apart. He'll want te look me in the eye," said Jamie, clearly pleased with himself.

"But dinnae err in judgin' the man's skills, Jamie. Ye ken the man isnae Captain of the dragoons fer nothin'," Cailean warned him, sipping from his whisky.

"Dinnae fash, brother! I'll no' make tha' mistake!" Jamie said proudly. "This duel will be the most important duel of my life. I'll make no mistakes that may result in Randall-"

"There willnae be a duel," I interrupted them, nonchalantly dipping my quill into the inkpot and scribbling more words onto my paper.

"What was tha'?" Murtagh asked me, but my eyes did not raise to them.

"Randall is locked away in the Bastille," I told them calmly.

"On what charge?" asked Jamie irritably, approaching me by a few steps.

"I swore an accusation against him," I said, not taking my attention from the letter I was composing. "Said it was him who attacked us in the alley."

"Christ, woman, what have ye done?" Murtagh demanded angrily, but Cailean stopped him. I could sense Jamie's heated gaze on me and knew that sooner or later, I'd have to meet his eyes. "Have ye lost yer mind? Swearin' a false charge?"

"Randall wasnae even in Paris the night of the attacks," Cailean told me.

"And when they figure that out, they'll release him and I'll say I may have been mistaken. It was dark, I was bein' attacked, simple mistake," I explained.

"Murtagh, Cailean, if ye dinnae mind, I would like a word alone with my wife," Jamie said firmly. I didn't see them, as I had yet to lift my head from my letter, but I heard them leave the room, closing the door behind them. Jamie was silent for a moment, but I could feel him watching me and heard his footsteps approach.

"How could ye do such a thing?" he demanded of me, but I didn't answer him. Suddenly, he grabbed the letter and the quill from my hands, ripping them from my fingers and tossing them aside, forcing me to look at him.

"Oi! I was writin' tha', ye arse!" I snapped at him.

"Answer me! How could ye do such a thing, Catrìona? When ye ken I've been waitin' fer this moment fer months?" he demanded from me.

"Te get enough time fer ye te listen te me, ye impulsive arse!" I snapped back, standing up and drawing my face nearer to his. "Ye cannae go through with this! Have ye no' thought of yer family? If ye get caught duelling, ye'll be lucky te be imprisoned if yer no' dead! I'll no' risk that, not after everrathing we've been through. Yer a father, fer Christ's sake!"

"Catrìona, I appreciate yer concern, truly, but there are places in this city where the gens d'armes arenae present," Jamie tried to explain to me, now much calmer. "I willnae get caught. Murtagh and Cailean will help me see te tha'."

"No. I cannae allow ye te risk anythin'. Whether or not the gen d'armes patrol the area or no', there's always a risk, and that risk is too great," I told him, still firmly but much calmer as well.

"Ye gave me a gift, Catrìona, when ye told me that Randall was still alive. That gift was kennin' I'd be the one te end tha' bastard's life. Now I want te claim that gift, and yer tellin' me I cannae have it?"

"Not yet. Just listen te me, Jamie, fer five minutes, and pull yer damned ego out of yer arse!" He clenched his jaw, but went silent so I could speak. "Ye cannae kill Randall-"

"There is no reason-"

"Because of Tom!" Jamie paused for a moment, seemingly slightly stunned into silence.

"T-Tom?" he asked me. "Ye mean a man ye havenae even spoken of in months? A man who ye left in favour of me?"

"I didnae choose te leave him."

"But ye did choose not te go back."

"Fer Christ's sake, Jamie. If ye kill Randall now, ye'll kill Tom, too! He willnae be born."

"What do ye mean?"

"I told ye before, Tom is a descendant of Randall," I said. "Tom once showed me his family tree that went all the way back te this time, and on that tree, married te Jonathan Wolverton Randall, was Mary Hawkins. Together, they have a child that willnae be born until 1746. Tha's two years from now. That child ends up becomin' Tom's ancestor. If ye kill Randall before tha' child is born, ye'll kill Tom, too, and he willnae exist. He must exist. He's part of the future-"

"I thought we were here te change the future," said Jamie firmly.

"Change the future, not fuck it up more than we already have," I hissed back. "Tom is innocent in this. He has no qualms with anyone of Scottish descent, he did no harm te any Scottish man, woman or child. He gave up everrathin' he kent te help the Scots fight a war against the English. Will ye truly kill an innocent man?"

"Innocent?"

"He's committed no crime against either of us, nor has he committed any crimes against humanity."

"And fer tha', Jack Randall should live." At this, Jamie scoffed, and he turned and stepped away from me, his back facing me. "I can stand a lot. More than most. I've proven as much. But must I bear everraone's weakness?"

"Are ye callin' Tom my weakness?"

"Yer askin' me no' te kill a man who deserves it te spare a man I'll never ken. A man who's bedded you," Jamie replied firmly, his fists tightening at his sides. "May I no' have my own weaknesses?"

"I bear your weaknesses. I've carried them on my back, same as my own, same as tha' of my sons, of Mary, of Beth, of Cailean, of so many people that ye dinnae even ken! I carried an entire army on my back when I had te lead the Battle of Bloody Bush and the Siege of Berwick! And ye want te tell me ye bear my weaknesses?"

"Ye dinnae understand!" Jamie snapped at me, and I couldn't help but let out a loud 'ha'.

"Don't I? We're back te tha' argument again, are we? Blessed Bride, yer so bloody selfish! All I'm askin' is ye delay killin' him! Do ye no' think I want the bastard as dead as you do? Because I do! I sure as hell do, after what he did te the man I love more than anythin' else in this world! I want te slaughter the man who took the home from our children, I want te cut off each and everra one of his toes with a wire and wear them as a necklace while I hang, draw, and quarter that fucking heartless bastard, and even that is a punishment too good fer him! But I willnae sacrifice the future until I can ken it is safe." Jamie was silent as I spoke, his sky blue eyes locked on mine, fury from his heart burning in his eyes. "Delay it. Kill him when the time is right."

"No," Jamie told firmly. " No. Ye have yer choice. It is either him - yer precious Tom - or me. I cannae live while Randall lives." He pulled out his dirk and approached me, turning it so that the hilt was facing me. "If ye willnae allow me te kill Randall, then kill me now yerself."

"Yer bein' ridiculous," I said, smacking his dirk out of his hand. "Yer bein' a bloody child ! A tantrum-throwin' child who's mad he's been told no! I gave ye a good reason no' te kill Randall and ye cannae accept it. Fer Christ's sake, Jamie, just give him a year! Just one year. Randall's child will hopefully be conceived by then, and after that, I swear to ye that I will help ye kill that man myself. You owe me that much, James Fraser."

"Owe ye, do I?" he demanded from me.

"Aye, ye do. I've saved yer life not once, but twice. Ye owe me a life, and I choose fer that life te be Tom's," I told him firmly.

"Hmph. I see. And now ye claim yer debt," said Jamie resentfully.

"It seems I cannae make ye see reason any other way, so I must speak yer language," I replied, equally bitterly.

"Only you would stop me from takin' vengeance on the man who made me play his whore, the man tha' lived in my nightmares, haunted our bed… Who nearly drove me te take my own life."

"And ye overcame tha' because ye chose to."

"I'm a man of honour," said Jamie firmly, but clearly very angrily. "I pay my debts. So tell me now, is tha' what yer askin' of me? Te pay ye with the life of Black Jack Randall?"

"I'm askin' ye te pay me with the life of Tom Randall through the life of Black Jack Randall," I told him.

"It is the same," said Jamie. He picked up his dirk again from the ground and brought it to his lips to kiss it, then pointed it in my direction. "A year. Not a day more." He slipped the blade back into its sheath.

"Thank ye," I said quietly. I reached out a hand to touch him, but he slapped it away, surprising me and eliciting a small squeak of surprise from me, but I believe the look of utter hatred in his eyes took me off guard even more.

"Dinnae touch me," he hissed, and then he turned on his heel to storm out of the study.

"I'm holdin' ye to yer word, because if ye kill Randall before the proper time… then ye may lose the lads… and me." That stopped him his tracks. "I dinnae ken fer sure… When I came through the stones, I was fightin' in the Second Battle of Culloden. I wouldnae have even gone te Inverness if Tom hadnae told me to. Who kens what would have happened te me if Tom had never existed? But I do ken one thing… Without Tom, I wouldnae be here. Would ye really risk losin' the family ye've made? Would that no' be just another victory over ye that Randall holds? Ye kill him, but lose yer family, too?" He didn't answer me. Instead, he stood there silently for several moments before he quietly left the study, closing the door behind him.

9 May, 1744

Jamie didn't come to bed that night, or at least not my bed. I didn't sleep, and when I saw the sun of dawn peeking through the windows, I got up, wrapped myself in my tartan and went down to the dining room to await breakfast. Suzette was surprised to see me, but she got me breakfast quickly, and I ate quietly and slowly, until I heard voices in the corridor.

"Randall's been released from prison," I heard Murtagh's voice say. "I'll meet with his second this afternoon, set the terms fer the duel." He must have been speaking to Jamie, who didn't answer him. "Two days from now at dawn, aye?" Still no answer. "Dinnae fash, lad! Magnus assures me tha' the woods west of the city are safe. The gen d'armes dinnae patrol there." Still no answer. "Lad?"

"Aye," I heard Jamie finally utter.

"Ye need te concentrate. I'll fetch the broadswords, we'll meet in the courtyard te hone yer skills-"

"I can't," I heard Jamie interrupt him.

"Well, before supper then! Rather no' wait until tomorrow! Ye need te work tha' bad hand-"

"I'm no' duellin' Randall," Jamie told him, this time from the doorframe leading into the dining room. "I've already sent word withdrawin' the challenge."

"Ye've done what?" Murtagh demanded, and then I saw his eyes fall on me. "Do you have somethin' te do with this?"

"It's complicated," Jamie told him.

"I ken I'm a simple man, but strive fer an explanation," Murtagh spat back.

"I just cannae. Trust tha' I've a sound reason," Jamie told him, entering the dining room and sitting down at the table quite far from me.

"Yer mind changes like a woman in flux!" Murtagh exclaimed. "Like tha' woman in particular!" I made a face at him and resumed drinking my tea.

"Dinnae blame her, this is my decision," Jamie told him. "Give us a minute, Murtagh. I need te speak te my wife." That surprised me a little, and I raised an eyebrow at him. Murtagh let out a gruff huff, then stormed out of the dining room.

"Ye want te speak te me now, aye?" I asked, setting down my teacup.

"I'm sorry fer how I spoke to ye last night. Ye've a genuine reason fer bein' concerned fer Tom, and I shouldnae have judged ye fer it," he told me, surprising me yet again.

"Oh," I said, unsure of how to answer. "Er… I'm… sorry too, fer… seemin' like I didnae care fer what ye've gone through. I ken it's a lot, I've gone through it, too. I should have been more sympathetic."

"It's all right," said Jamie, and then he stood up and approached me, sitting down in the seat beside me and taking my hand. "I've been thinkin'… Ye said I owed ye a life because ye saved mine, aye?"

"Aye," I said.

"Well, I've saved yers as well, at least as often," he said to me. "Seems te me we're even."

"Are ye serious? " I snapped, pulling my hand away from him.

"I dinnae give ye Randall's life fer payment, and I owe Tom nothin'. As I said te ye yesterday, ye had free choice between us and ye chose me, and the fact that ye did shouldnae entitle him te any particular consideration."

"Blessed Bride, Jamie," I said angrily, standing up and turning to leave.

"Wait!" Jamie said loudly, stopping me in my tracks. "Ye asked me once te help ye understand, so I will." I turned to face him again, but didn't approach him. "What Randall did te me was worse than death. What lies between me and him can only be settled when one of us is dead."

"Ye think I dinnae understand that?" I demanded from him. "So why are ye no' duellin' him still?"

"Because of Charles Stuart," Jamie replied. "He's a canny, slippery man, and I dinnae trust him one bit. There's a light in his eye tha' can fool good men te believe he's God's chosen one, destined te make the dream of a Stuart restoration te the throne a reality. We have thwarted him all we can, Catrìona… but I fear tha' we may still find ourselves starin' into the abyss that awaits us at the bottom of Culloden Moor." He stood after this and approached me quietly, then took my hands in his and brought them to his lips. "And if anything should happen te me…"

"Dinnae talk like that," I said.

"Then I want there te be a place fer ye, and the lads. Someone te care fer ye… A man that loves ye when I cannae do it myself," he continued.

"Jamie-" I freed one hand to place it on his face as he continued to speak.

"Now it is my turn te ask ye fer a promise. Promise me tha'… if the time should come… ye'll go back through the stones. Back te Tom." The tone in his voice brought tears to my eyes, as did the look of love that he held for me in his.

"How could I?" I whispered to him.

"Promise me, Catrìona," he said, practically begging, and I nodded.

"All right," I said. " Tha mi a' ghealltainn ." I promise. He bent forward to kiss my forehead, then bent his head to meet my lips.

"I spare Randall's life fer tha'… and fer you, and the lads. I cannae risk losin' either of ye. I willnae risk it," he told me, and then he pulled me into his arms to hold me tightly.

"I love ye, Jamie. I wouldnae ask such a thing of ye unless I had a damn good reason fer it," I told him as I held onto him tightly.

"I ken tha', mo ghràidh, " he told me, burying his lips in my hair. He held me for a few moments more before he broke the embrace and pulled back from me. "In order te keep my promise, I have te ask somethin' of ye. Sandringham invited us te a luncheon at his rented estate tomorrow morning. Randall will likely be in attendance, which means I cannae attend. I cannae be in the same room with the man, but I cannae risk the relationship we have with the Duke. Will ye… will ye go without me?"

"Te a luncheon with the Duke? Are ye mad? I dinnae even want te go with ye, let alone without ye," I said back to him.

"Please, Catrìona. Ye can take Cailean with ye."

"And what will I say when he asks where ye've gone? Tha' yer sick?"

"Aye, that'll do fine. Tell him I'm unwell and feverish, he'll understand," Jamie told me. I let out a groan, then pulled him back to me to hug him again.

"Fine, but only because I love ye," I said. "And ye owe me fer tha'."

"I think I can give ye somethin' worth yer time," Jamie told me with a light chuckle, kissing the top of my head.

10 May, 1744

Sandringham's Estate, Paris, France

"Bastard, makin' me go te this bloody thing," I said bitterly in the carriage on the way to Sandringham's estate, which was situated just outside of the city in the countryside.

"I'm sure he appreciates it, kennin' Randall will be there," Cailean told me. I glanced up at him, noticing that this was the first he'd spoken since he got into the carriage.

"So," I said after a moment. "Annalise." Cailean let out a sigh.

"I ken ye dinnae like her," he began, but I interrupted him.

"Dinnae like her? I dinnae care what ye do in yer spare time, but I'll no' deny I'm no' fond of the lass," I said to him.

"So yer no' mad at me fer datin' her?" Cailean asked me.

"No, but I'm annoyed ye didnae tell me! Why does everraone leave me te find things out on my own?" I asked. I looked out the window of the carriage then took notice of the large estate that began to appear. "Blessed Bride, look at that place."

"Lots of places te hide from Sandringham and Randall," Cailean replied.

"Good," I said, sitting back against the seat of the carriage. "Cailean… What did ye think of what Alasdair Fowlis was sayin' the other day? At Versailles?"

"I dinnae ken, he didnae finish. I didnae give him much thought," my brother replied.

"One track mind, ye have," I said. "The last thing he asked was if we kent of Pobull Fhinn. Have ye heard of it?" Cailean shrugged.

"No' sure. A place, I'm guessin'? Or a man?" I shook my head.

"No… it's a stone circle in North Uist," I said. "The closest one te Barra."

"A stone circle?" Cailean asked me, and I nodded.

"He… he commented on how our ages put us as bein' born before Archie Fowlis disappeared, then asked aboot it."

"I'm sure it's nothin'."

"Truly? Da said his parents died a long time ago, and he always spoke of relatives we had but never met."

"There was a war, Catrìona. They may have all died."

"But our home was built in this century. The home we grew up in. Da said the Fowlises had lived in it fer generations. So… where's all the photographs?" Cailean paused for a moment, his expression changing slightly. "Photographs, in our time, are primarily digital… If any of those people Da named existed - in our time - would they really have absolutely zero photographs? Think aboot it, Cailean. What's the oldest photo we have of Da?"

"I…"

"What school did he go to? He was eighteen when he joined the rebellion, would have graduated two years before. If his family was raised on Barra in tha' same hoose we grew up in… wouldnae the teachers at our school have kent of him?"

"This… Catrìona… Are ye sayin' ye think Da travelled from this time te ours?"

"No, but I'm sayin' it's a possibility," I replied.

"But why would he come te our time? Te stay? Fight in a war he had no reason te fight in, raise a family there? Why no' go back in his time as soon as he realised the dangers?"

"I dinnae ken," I said with a sigh. "Somethin' tells me tha' Alasdair Fowlis has the answers te those questions." The carriage came to a stop, drawing both of our attention back to the task at hand, and the door opened to reveal a groom that we didn't recognise.

" Monsieur, Madame, " said the groom, stepping aside to allow Cailean to climb down and then assisting me down. Cailean nodded to him, then offered his arm to me as we walked up the steps of the large and elaborate estate.

"Why dinnae grooms offer men a hand down? Maybe I want a hand down," Cailean said with amusement, resulting in a chuckle from me.

"The downside of livin' in a time where women were thought of as weak," I answered him. The grand doors of the estate opened to admit us and a footman led the way to the parlour, where we were introduced to Sandringham.

" Monsieur Cailean Fowlis et Madame Fraser, Dame Broch Tuarach, " the footman announced.

"Madam Fraser! How delightful to see you again," said Sandringham, emerging from the crowd to approach us and take my hand, kissing it. "And where is your husband?"

"He woke up with a fever this mornin'," I said.

"What a shame! It is a shame to not see him, but your lovely presence will do just fine," Sandringham was saying. I happened to glance over his shoulders, locking eyes with the malicious look of Jack Randall, who appeared a little fatigued - a night in the Bastille could do that to a man. "Do come along, we have many fine and delicate wines for your tastes."

The luncheon wasn't overly eventful. Cailean and I stuck close to each other, occasionally chatting, bringing each other snacks and drinks and keeping to the corners, keeping ourselves away from both Sandringham and Randall. Neither of us were really in the mood for engaging with them and were glad to stay in the corners. It was outside in the gardens when things got interesting. Cailean was trying out a game of croquet with other men while I sat with the other ladies. I nibbled some plain tea biscuits, as I still had some residual nausea, as I watched him bat that little ball around through hoops. I wanted badly to make some sort of snarky comment, but I knew that wasn't allowed.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of rather aggressive coughing, and I turned and, to my surprise, saw Alex Randall having collapsed, his elder brother running to his side. This drew the attention of the other women and some of the men on the green, so I jumped up and ran over to Alex. "All right, all right, just lie down a bit with yer head back so we can get tha' airway open," I said to him, helping him lie flat on his back. I nudged his chin to help him readjust his head to open up his airway a little. "Right, we need te get him inside. I doubt hay fever will do him any favours," I said to Jack Randall, who was clearly alarmed by the sudden collapse of his brother. I stood up and motioned to my own brother, who was standing with his bloody croquet mallet rather dumbfounded, and he dropped the mallet and ran over to help Jack Randall and I get Alex inside.

"You can bring him in here, Madame et Messieurs, " a servant told us. " Le Duc has stated he does not wish to disturb his guests."

"Of course he bloody doesnae," I hissed. "Go and fetch my medical bag from the Fraser carriage, please. And hurry!"

"There ye are, mate, nice and comfortable," I heard Cailean say as he and Randall laid Alex on one of the beds.

"Prop him up, it might help with the breathin'," I said as Alex continued to cough. The poor lad coughed so hard, he fell unconscious, alarming his brother even more. "He's all right, no' enough oxygen reached his brain and he fainted."

"I beg your pardon?" Randall asked me, alarmed by my use of words.

"Nevermind, just go and ask a servant te fetch hot water, I need it te steep some mullein tea," I said. "There ye are, Alex, yer all right," I said as Alex regained consciousness.

"I'll not be leaving his side," Randall snapped at me.

"Will someone go and fetch a servant te bring us hot water?" I demanded.

"I'll go," Cailean said, getting up and leaving the room.

"Who was that? Your lover?" Randall asked me, and I wanted to snort with laughter, but was too focused on Alex.

"My brother," I answered. The other servant returned with my medical bag finally and I opened it up, pulling out vial after vial of herbs, searching for my thorn apple and mullein vials. "Have ye got a pipe?" I asked Randall, who didn't respond right away as he watched me dig through my bag. I lifted up my head to meet his panicked gaze. "Oi! Pipe?"

"N-No," said Randall with confusion.

"I will fetch pipe," I heard the servant say.

"Is he all right? What happened? Save him!" Randall demanded of me, and I quickly stopped what I was doing, lifted my left hand and backhanded him across the cheek, startling the man and leaving a mark on his face.

"Calm down ," I told him firmly. "Alex willnae do well with ye panickin' and screamin'. He'll be fine, he's simply had an asthma attack. Nothin' that cannae be treated with a bit of thorn apple and mullein."

"A bit… of… what…" Alex puffed out.

"Thorn apple and mullein. Once I've a pipe and hot water fer tea, I'll burn the thorn apple in the pipe fer ye te breathe in the smoke and I'll steep the mullein in water fer tea. I use thorn apple smoke on me own lad fer his lungs," I explained.

"You've a child?" Randall asked me. " Jamie's child?"

"No, he's the Duke of Sandringham's lad. Of course he's Jamie's child, as is his brother," I said back to him. "Twins they are, born a wee bit early. One's healthy and hearty as a clam, the other isnae doin' well."

"I… am s… sorry to… hear," Alex puffed as the servant returned with a pipe.

" Une pipe, " said the servant, handing me the filthy, tobacco-caked pipe. I gave it a rather disgusted expression and pulled out one of many handkerchiefs I carried in my bag.

"Dare I ask who this pipe belongs te?" I asked.

" Oui , it is Vicomte de Marigny," said the servant, and I stifled a gag.

"Ergh! Tha's pure clatty," I said, pulling out a bottle of pure alcohol that I had in my bag. Soaking the handkerchief, I scraped out the bits of tobacco before pouring the alcohol over the entire pipe.

"What on earth are you doing?" Randall asked me.

"Disinfectin'," I answered. "I'll no' pass on an illness te yer brother through this boggin' thing." Once the pipe was acceptably clean and safely dried, I filled the pipe with dried thorn apple leaves and lit the leaves from a candle, starting the pipe and then holding it for Alex to take a puff of. "Tha's it, deep breath in, hold it fer a second, hold it, hold it… and let it out nice and slow. Perfect… Deep breath in again, hold it… let it out and we'll take another puff." Randall watched me while I administered the smoke to his brother. "There we are, yer already lookin' better, Alex. Yer lips are pinkin' up nicely and yer no' so pale."

"You're… a very good… healer, Madam," Alex said, still a little breathless.

"A very good healer, indeed," said Randall somewhat suspiciously. "I did hear a rumour about you. Something about… La Dame Blanche ?"

"Come now, J… Jonny… Leave her… be," Alex said to his brother. A servant finally entered carrying a tea pot full of hot water and I prepared mullein tea for Alex, handing it to him to hold while I continued administering the thorn apple.

"Where's my brother?" I asked the servant.

" Monsieur was stop by Le Duc to speak," said the servant.

"Probably te find out what's happenin' here," I said. I helped Alex finish up the pipe, then prepared another ready to be burned and smoked later. I also steeped some mullein in the tea pot itself so he would have an entire tea pot of mullein tea. "Tha' should do fer now. Ye'd best get some rest, Alex. Asthma attacks tend te take a lot of energy out of ye."

"Yes, Madam," Alex replied as I packed my medical bag.

"Tha' pipe there is packed and ready, ye just need te light it if he gets bad again. Ye can find thorn apple - or jimsonweed - at any apothecary, same with mullein. Ye may want te invest in a pipe fer yer brother," I told Randall once I had finished, and I took notice that he was giving me an odd look. "What?"

"I just find it strange that, given our past, you were so quick to aid my brother," Randall told me. I glanced over at Alex and noticed that he was already fast asleep before I turned my attention back to Randall.

"Yer brother isnae you, and I'll tend te anyone who collapses like that," I answered him. Randall stood quickly, startling me a little and causing me to take a step back.

"I am certain Jamie would not be thrilled to learn you were alone in a room with me," said Randall, and I glanced around me to find that the servants, too, had left.

"If yer smart, ye'll no' try anythin'. I had a hard time convincin' him te not cut yer throat. Try anythin' and I'll have te do it te spare him from it," I warned him.

"I had no intention of touching you, Madam Fraser," Randall told me, and I nodded.

"Good, best ye keep it that way," I said. "As I said, thorn apple in a pipe, mullein in tea. Steep it fer four minutes at least and give it to him. Add a bit of rosemary te reduce inflammation."

"You use such big words," said Randall.

"My mother was a herbalist. She taught me a lot of them," I answered. "Right, best be off. Give Alex my best when he wakes." I kept my eyes on Randall's for a moment, but he didn't speak, so I turned and left without a word.

I returned home to another illness - evidently, Beth had relapsed and was feverish again. All I could do was give her herbs that might help her and leave her to rest, and then I went to find Jamie, who was in the study. "How was the luncheon?" he asked me when I entered.

"Eventful," I replied, entering the study, dropping my medical bag on the desk and crawling onto his lap, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck as he held me. "Randall was there, as was Alex. Alex had an asthma attack, so I had te help him."

"Ye had te?" Jamie repeated.

"Of course I did. I wasnae goin' te let him die. Cailean will tell ye the same. Randall was worried sick aboot his brother. Could be a weakness te consider later," I informed him. "Gave Alex some mullein and thorn apple, then left him in Randall's care. I slapped Randall, too, when he was panickin' te calm him down. He was annoyin' me and distractin' me while I was tryin' te work."

"Ye werenae alone with him, were ye?" I shook my head.

"Alex was there, as were the servants," I answered. "I dinnae want te think of it anymore, I'm pure done in. Can ye take me te bed and lie down with me, please?" Jamie let out a quiet chuckle.

"Of course I will, mo ghràidh . I owe ye, after all. Today can be all aboot you," said my wonderful and loving husband, standing with me in his arms and adjusting me so I sat more comfortably. He kissed my head, then carried me off to bed.