Chapter 9: Dougal's Denouncement
Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander.
The five men that made up the watch, stopped by, took a look around, drank a few tumblers of whisky, and weaved their tales. I didn't understand any of the spoken word, since they all blathered away in Gaelic. What I did understand needed no translation. A few of the men shot lustful gazes at me, but our warchieftain, wielding his authority, kept the wolves at bay.
They stayed a couple of hours, and I was ready to breathe again when the last horse's rump faded from sight.
I was on pins and needles until the sun went down, and heard the hooves of Jamie's horse clopping as it neared the cottage. My heart accelerated, and I ran outside to greet him. He leapt from the animal, and I was in his embrace, finally able to relax.
After covering his face in kisses, I said, "God, I'm so glad you're here. My stomach's been tied in knots. Are you all right?"
"Right as rain. Ye dinna havta worrit 'bout yer Jamie. The watch willna e'er be clever enough to outsmart this highlander."
That comment made my heart sink. Dougal's words reverberated in my head. Jamie was clever, and seemed to have luck at his side, but could his luck endure? The thought of him being captured again filled me with dread. It was one thing to evade his enemies on his own, but he now had me, his wife, to consider as well. My tagging along would slow him down immensely. I wished at that moment that we could just run off together, and sail across the ocean to America—seasickness notwithstanding—where no one knew him, and would leave us to live out our lives in peace.
Frowning at me, he said, "Ye're shiverin', Sassenach. Ye need to warm yerself by the hearth." He pushed me away gently. "Go on inside, now. I'll be in shortly."
I shook my head. "No … I want to stay here with you."
"What's come over ye? I'm just gonta see to stablin' my horse."
"I'll go with you," I replied.
Jamie, still looking concerned, loosened his plaid, and removed it from his shoulder. Draping it around me, he led the animal by the reins. We entered the stable, and I sat on the straw-strewn ground, observing him as he watered and fed Trom-laighe. He began brushing its flanks, then turned to me. "What is it that's botherin' ye, Claire? The lads havena been disrespectful toward ye, have they?" He stiffened suddenly. "If any o' them laid a hand on ye …"
"It's nothing. I just missed you. I worry about you. Isn't there any way you can find this Horrocks person so the watch will stop their bloody hounding?"
He put down the handful of straw he was using to curry the beast, and hunkered down beside me. "Aye, we tried once, and the man wasna there where he shouldha been. We'll try again verra soon, I promise ye."
A chuckle escaped his throat, and he waved his hand nonchalantly. His eyes got big and round, his head nodding animatedly, and his voice theatric. "It seems that Horrocks is on the run as much as I am. He'll lead us on a merry chase, I'm afeared."
Shaking my head, I sighed. "I'm just so tired of waiting around for you every time these hooligans show their faces. My head fills with scenes of you, captured, lying in your own blood, in pain or worse."
Jamie moved closer, and stroking my cheek, said, "I'll find Horrocks and put this all at an end. I swear to ye on my mother's grave."
I gazed up into his infinitely blue eyes, so clear with sincerity, and felt the unraveling of my soul. Jamie … I wanted to fall down and weep, I loved him so.
"You have got to find him, Jamie, because if you die, I'll follow right after you."
I pulled his neck toward me, and our lips joined hungrily. I needed to be under his skin … a part of him.
Panting, Jamie muttered, "Sassenach, nay, I want ye for certain, but no here. Let's get to the house. 'Tis cold in this stable, ye ken, and we havena warm blankets exceptin' for my plaid."
He led me hurriedly into the cottage, past the other members of our party, without so much as a word. With the door to the bedroom closed tightly, Jamie bolted the lock with a loud click. I could overhear several snickers from our amused comrades, as we scrambled onto the mattress, and under the covers.
I woke with a start the next morning. Jamie was already up, and out of the room. Wrapping a blanket about my shoulders, I walked to the window. I saw Murtagh and Jamie on the way to the stable, talking no doubt about the indecent proposition that Dougal had laid before me on the day prior. This would not sit well with my irascible Scotsman.
He came inside to breakfast after he and Murtagh tended to the horses. Whatever his cousin had divulged to him, he didn't let on. I could only surmise that Jamie already had an inkling that Dougal had designs on me from the very beginning, so I guess it was no great revelation to him. I wondered though, if Dougal wanted me from the first, why had he set up the nuptials with Jamie? Did he think I would be less likely to run if I faced a marriage with someone less formidable? And did that mean he entertained the thought that he could sample some of my favors on the side as he once suggested? But what was different now? I had refused his offer on my wedding night. Did he underestimate the loyalty to my new husband, and now regretted his decision? Had I unknowingly forced his hand?
That afternoon, Jamie mysteriously disappeared. I looked everywhere, and finally gave up. He'd been a bit quiet at the table earlier, and I wondered if it had anything to do with his conversation with Murtagh.
He returned later on, still brooding about whatever it was that was eating at him. As we got ready for bed, I sat beside him while he tugged off his boots. I placed a hand over his, and he turned toward me, sighing. He pitched the remaining boot onto the floor. "Sassenach, my cousin told me what Dougal said to ye, yesterday."
"Jamie … I—"
"Nay, Claire, hear me out." He swallowed nervously. "The gist o' 'tis … maybe Dougal is right. The watch and that filthy Captain Randall will chase me 'til doomsday. Ye need someone to protect ye from that scurvy rat if I'm gone. I love ye, and my heart would break to see ye dissolve our marriage and wed wi' my uncle, but if 'tis the only way o' it ..."
"James Fraser—don't you dare say another word! What a load of codswallop. How in the bloody hell can you think that way? Didn't it ever occur to you that I don't want to dissolve our marriage? Can't you get it through that thick Scottish head of yours, that I belong to you? I'd rather die than marry Dougal. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ …! I am not a horse to be traded or bought and sold. I'm a woman, and I'm your woman. And that, Jamie, is that. Now take off the rest of those clothes, get under the covers, and make me yours again."
His head jerked in shock. "God, woman, ye've the face o' an angel, but such a devil I ne'r did see in bed. What a lucky man I am."
The watch suspiciously began coming around to the cottage on a more frequent basis—different men each time—and as a result my poor Jamie was constantly scurrying out the door—or window as the case may be—to evade them. It was to the point that he slept, fully dressed, with his pistol under his pillow. One day, I looked on during another visit as Dougal walked out into the field and spoke to one of them. He was definitely up to something.
We left the Bryce cabin the following week, on the advice of the watch. Redcoats had been spotted in the immediate area, they said. Later, I was convinced it was stated for my benefit alone.
The very next day, while we were on the road, Angus, Murtagh and Jamie were sent on ahead of us as lookouts. Young Willie, his father, Duncan, and his brother, Ciaran, and Rupert, made up the rear with Dougal and myself. Everything seemed calm until Mutagh returned, galloping straight at us, with Angus not far behind.
"They took him … the watch. They were lying in wait for us … they were, as if someone tipped them off about our whereabouts. There was nary a way they could ken our secret escape route except for a traitor in our midst."
Murtagh flashed a steely eye at Dougal, and then yelled to Rupert. "Quick, man, put on yer deserters' uniform, we're gonta get Jamie back."
The three of them removed anything that signified highlander, and donned the trousers, jackets, tricornes, and bandoleers, rushing off in a cloud of dust. I should have felt apprehension, but living as we had for the recent weeks, I'd become numb. This whole scenario was surreal, like I was in a dream state. I stared out after them, my insides as empty as Bonny Prince Charlie's coffers. Looking back on it now, I believe that my subconscious was protecting me from mentally unhinging.
While the threesome were gone on a daring rescue mission, Dougal ordered the rest of us to follow him to set up camp close to a nearby stream. I recognized the area as the one with our laughing place, only I wasn't in the mood for any laughter until my Jamie came back to me ... alive and well.
After the camping gear was laid out for the approach of evening, Dougal took me aside, roughly pulling me along, saying he needed to talk to me. We left a little ways from the campsite, up to a ridge where his horse and mine were tethered. He turned to me, sneering. "I told ye, wench, sooner or later, Jamie would be leavin' a widow behind. Looks like t'day is the day. If the lads havena returned yet, then they're no goin' to. Now, ye're gonta come wi' me willin' or no."
"I most certainly will not," I screeched at him.
Spinning me about, he grabbed me by the shoulders, and pushed me toward my horse, with his knee to my back. I wrestled away, as best as I could, screaming for help. His dirk was at my throat in an instant. "Stop yer caterwawlen, Sassenach. Ye'll no get away from me this time, and the camp willna help ye. What Dougal says is their law. Now, get op on yer horse."
In defiance, I stood there, not making a move to mount the beast. Dougal shoved me forward, the blade still dangerously close to the skin at my throat. It was a few seconds later when I heard the glorious noise of boots stamping on the ground. Everyone at the campsite had gathered to the spot, and Jamie's voice rang out, "That's my woman ye're threatening with yer dirk. Now I'll thank ye to get yer filthy hands off my wife."
My attacker threw the dirk to the ground, and unsheathed his sword. Jamie answered in kind. A murmur spread throughout the men, their eyes flitting back and forth between the two warriors. Dougal made the first parry, drawing blood from a strike on Jamie's shoulder, and the battle was on.
I closed my eyes, shutting out the horrid scene unfolding in front of me, a scream trapped inside my throat. Frozen to the spot, my hands were over my heart to prevent it from leaping from my chest and falling to my feet. Please don't kill him, Dougal.