Chapter 6: Remorse and Repentance

Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander

I sat up, looking about to get my bearings. The men in camp were all sawing logs as the saying goes, but why wasn't Jamie? He'd been up all night long, on a reconnaissance mission and still in the saddle all day. He had to be worn out.

I wrapped both covers around me. Chances are, that when I found him, he wouldn't be dressed for the cold, stubborn man that he was. I'd be prepared with the extra blankets just in case.

The moon was full that evening, and I easily spotted a hint of that titian hair in the incandescence of the moon's glow. I walked forward, then halted in my tracks. He was sitting on the ground with his knees drawn up, and sobbing as if his heart would break. It was clear to me why he was so distraught, and I suddenly felt ashamed. I'd finally broken him, but I felt no joy or satisfaction, only remorse. How could I have been so cruel? He only did what he was taught by his elders. After all, this was not the 20th century, and I had no right to judge him by more modern standards.

I decided to call out to him. It wouldn't do to barge in on him while he was crying. He had his pride, and I would grant him that.

"Jamie?"

I heard him suck in a hurried gulp of air.

"Aye."

I moved into the clearing. "Is it all right if I sit with you awhile?"

He turned his head and wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve. His breath hitched a few times before he could answer, and then in a strained voice, said, "If ye like."

I sat close to him, and extended the fabric of the blanket to him, encircling his broad shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"No, Claire."

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"I am.

Facing me, he hesitated for a moment, and said, "Ye canna see the hurt, but it's there all the same, inside o' me." He took in a sharp breath, and continued. "I know I whipped ye, and I'm verra sorry for that, but have the bruises no faded away?

"My hurt never stops, Sassenach; my heart … it's broken to pieces, and it's achin' and bleedin' all the day long. Medicine nor poultice can fix it."

Jamie shook his head, and continued, "I was so happy when Dougal said as we should be marrit. I loved ye so, since that first time I laid eyes on ye, knowin' it was wrong … ye bein' marrit and all. I couldna help myself; ye were the most beautiful creature I e'er did see. From that day on, ye were all I was thinkin' about. When ye told me as yer husband was no longer alive, I felt my heart leap about in my chest. It was no secret as ye didna hold the same feelin's, and didna wannta marry me, but it seemed that in those three days, ye came to love me as weel. If only ye hadna run away, and disobeyed me …"

He stared into space as he talked. "I'm twenty and three years old, and I ne'er so much as had a warm body share my bed. After bein' wi' ye in that way, I canna stand to sleep alone. I miss ye … I miss hearin' yer voice, seein' yer smilin' face, touchin' ye, feelin' yer touch, and layin' wi' ye. I wanta die for want o' ye … god help me, but I do.

"I made an oath to ye that day in the kirk. And I pledged to protect ye with my own body, but it makes me suffer so, to see ye, knowin' as what we had isna more. My heart cries out to ye, but for an answer, there is none. If I canna have ye, then I should go and n'er look back. But the truth o' it is, I love ye still, and it would kill me sure as a bullet to my chest to leave ... to ne'er see ye agin. Ye're verra dear to me … I couldna love another lass the way I love ye, and that's the gist o' it."

My heart, for so long a stone, melted at his words. I threw off the blankets and knelt beside him, my arms winding about his neck. "Oh, Jamie …" I cried.

His response was unexpected. He grabbed my hands, pulling them away from his neck. I heard him swallow thickly, and caught a glimpse of his eyes, wet with tears. "I'll no accept yer pity. 'Tis a shameful thing to find yer man wallowin' in sorrow for what he canna have. Go back to the others, and leave me here, Sassenach."

I searched his eyes, urging him to see the sincerity housed in mine. "It's not pity I feel for you. I miss you too. I'm a stubborn fool for holding a grudge all this time. Those days we spent together after our wedding were some of the most precious I've ever experienced. Your joy was contagious; it filled the very air I breathed, and warmed my soul.

"I love you, Jamie. Are you listening to me?"

Furrowing his brow, he said, "Truly? Ye're sayin' that ye do love me then?"

"Yes, I do."

I kissed him sweetly, and undid the fastenings of my corset. Then, taking his hand, I laid it upon my breast. The expression on his face was one of skepticism, but what followed next negated all of that. "Claire …" he murmured; his voice cracking, "… Mo nighean donn." Instantly, he was on fire, as his mouth hungrily devoured mine.

My hands roamed through his copper curls, and I kissed every inch of his face, his throat, his ears. He flung the blankets to the ground, and grabbing me by the waist, drew me down beside him onto it. It was indescribable what the stroke of his fingers did to the skin on my body. I hadn't realized how much I wanted and needed his touch. I was a rekindled flame, newly born, and ready to face whatever life held for me. I pulled on one of the blankets to cover us, as we physically loved each other in our own private woodland, in the middle of the night, under the light of a Scottish moon.

. . . . .

Jamie held onto me all during the night, one arm draped across my shoulder, his leg sprawled over mine, his chin tucked into the crook of my neck. Even in the cold, my Jamie was like a radiator, his heat warming me to the bone. When the sun began to rise, he ran his nose along the length of my neck, and whispered, "Claire, if ye do no mind, can I take ye agin? It's been a verra long time, and I'm achin' for ye so."

He released his hold on me, and I rolled onto my side to face him. Without saying a word, I let my hands do the speaking for me.

After our second amorous encounter, we fell asleep once more, the noise of the others waking us a couple of hours later. We donned our clothes, and had just grabbed up the blankets, when Jamie suddenly gestured for me to stand still. "Sassenach, afore we go back, I have somethin' to give ye." He knelt before me, and reached into his sporran. "It's no as fancy or costly as yer other, but it comes from my heart, so it does. Give me yer hand, Claire."

I stretched out my left hand, and Jamie returned my wedding band to my ring finger. He kissed my knuckle and looked up at me, smiling. "There, now, ye'er my wife agin."

"And you're my husband."

"Aye, truly spoken."

. . . . .

I had planned on sneaking back to the campsite, but all the men were up, and it was obvious as to what we had been actively engaged in, so what was the point?

Hand in hand, we sauntered to the campsite. Jamie had a big, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile pasted on his face. I, on the other hand was feeling the heat of crimson creeping along my cheeks, affirming the oft-used phrase … the blushing bride.

Dougal—damn him—gave Jamie a look of satisfaction, while Angus wiggled his brows, and jabbed Rupert in the ribs with his elbow. Young Willy shrugged, and the rest snickered. So much for privacy …

. . . . .

We stayed ensconced at camp for the whole day, thank the lord. The men hunted, and scoured the creek, bringing back several rabbits, and a few fish. I scavenged some late blooming berries, and some edible roots.

Jamie and I talked that night, sitting apart from the rest of the crew, familiarizing ourselves with each other again. My hands were busy rubbing against his, over and over. The men were all telling their lewd jokes—in Gaelic, as usual—around the campfire. No doubt, a lot of it centered on my clandestine meeting with Jamie the night before. He looked up every once in a while, smiling and nodding, then he'd pull me closer and kiss me, eliciting a roar of laughter from the men.

"I'm certainly glad you don't join in with their sordid display," I told him.

"Aye. I didna have any stories to tell afore I married ye, and now as I am, isna any o' their business. I wilna dishonor ye in that fashion." He winked in his funny way, leaned toward me conspiratorially, and commented in a story telling voice, "I like to keep ye all to myself, ye ken. They're jealous fools is all, and rightly so."

"Thank you." I turned toward the brutes, and waved, getting their attention. Then I grabbed Jamie by the hair and proceeded to give him a mouthful of me, nearly knocking him to the ground. That set the camp into a raucous commotion.

Angus pointed in our direction. "She's a feisty lass, that one."

Another Scotsman clapped him on the back. "Aye, ye got that right on the nose."

Jamie waved them away, "Can ye no leave us be? Have none of ye ever been newly wed?"

"Not to a feisty lass like the Sassenach." Rupert exclaimed.

Grinning to beat the band, Jamie retorted, "Aye, and lucky I am to have her."

. . . . .

While the crew all retired to sleep, Jamie and I lay together on our pallet, and continued talking. "Lorna told me as ye'd ne'er been strapped afore. Is that so?"

"Yes, that's true. Where I come from, a man is considered a coward if he was to raise his hand to a woman. And if it came before a judge, the man would be imprisoned."

Jamie looked confused. "But how d'they get their women to obey them?"

"The husband and wife work together in a loving relationship. They talk about their problems and come to an understanding. If you love someone, you don't give her orders. You ask for her opinion, and work it out between you."

He began chewing on his bottom lip. "Ah … I wish it was like that here in the highlands."

He pushed himself up, and leaned his cheek on one hand. "Claire, ye know I willna ever lay a strap to ye agin. I want ye to love me always. I promise ye, on my mother's grave. I canna live wi'out ye. Will ye promise to stay wi' me, now and forever?"

"Aye, I will."

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. "Och … ye seem to be takin' on a wee bit o' a Scottish brogue there."

Jiggling my head, I teased, "That's what comes of traipsing about the countryside with a gang of Scotsmen. It was bound to rub off on me sooner or later, ye ken?"

Jamie laughed so hard, that I put a finger to my lips. "Shh! You'll wake everyone up. What's so funny anyway?"

"'Twas the look on yer face when ye said it." With that, he broke into laughter again.

Dougal sat up from his pallet, and yelled, "Jamie Fraser, I'll thank ye to keep yer damn voice down. Give yer wench a good poke, and be doon wi' it, and leave us to our rest."

Jamie spouted back at him, "Is that an order?"

"Bah! Go to sleep then."

"How can I, when ye willna quit yer shoutin' at me?"

Giggling at the two of them, I snuggled into Jamie, my head pillowed on his chest. I felt his gentle fingers threading through my hair as I drifted off.