When I see her smiling face walking toward me, and our eyes lock, I can'na help but grin ear to ear. Claire is as happy to see me as I am to see her. That is when I notice her skirt, or lack there of. I can see her legs all the way from her ankles up to her knees. Like the women in the park. Where is the rest of her skirt? I look around and notice the men sitting at nearby tables raise or turn their heads and watch her walk by and they are smiling. They like what they see. She is ignoring everyone and everything; she only sees me. She walks straight to me and places a soft kiss on my lips.
She then sets a rather large package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, on the table and her 'purse' beside it. She places her hand on my arm and leans around me to look at her Uncle. "Hello Lamb darling," she says with her voice full of sweetness.
Lambert raises his head, see's his niece and smiles. "Well, hello Claire. You are a little early, aren't you? I thought you would be here about 1 and I would take everyone to lunch."
"Things were slow at the hospital so they allowed me to leave a little early," Claire replies as she removes her gloves and sets them on her purse. "I wanted to see Jamie. I missed him this morning," she says sheepishly and her face turning a little red. She looks back at me as she unbuttons and removes her coat and hat then drape them over the back of a chair.
"Hello Claire," Randall's droll voice comes from somewhere behind me.
"Oh, hello Frank," was all Claire says in a whispered monotone. She stares into my eyes. "Sorry I missed you this morning, Jamie," she coos at me and brushes her hand up and down my arm. "You were sleeping so soundly this morning, I did not want to wake you to tell you I was leaving. Did you get my note?" She starts to moves a lock of hair from my forehead. She suddenly stops and steps back. "What?" she asks. "What's wrong? Why do you look so angry?"
I grab her elbow, a little more roughly than I intend, and pull her toward the rows of bookshelves. We need someplace with a little privacy.
Stubborn like a mule, Claire stops in her tracks. Does'na budge another inch. She's having no part of my directing her. She twists her elbow free from my grasp and folds her arms across her chest. She repeats, "What's wrong, Jamie? Why are you angry? Is it something I've done?"
"Look at the way you are dressed Claire," I start. "Where is your skirt, woman?"
Someone from one of the nearby tables 'shushes' us and reminds us that there is no talking allowed in the library.
Claire turns around and gives them a look that makes the man go back to his reading. I would never want to be on the receiving end of a look like that, I tell myself. Claire turns around and looks directly at me, still wearing that same face.
Somehow Claire's face went from verra happy to verra angry in the time it took my heart to beat once. "Jamie," Claire hisses in a verra angry whispered tone I did not much care for. "What in the world are you talking about? This skirt is just fine. I am dressed quite fashionably, Thank You Very Much. This is one of my very best outfits, I might add. I wore it just for you," Claire added with more than just a hint of anger in her tone. "And you are giving me a hard time because you think the skirt is too short? Are you kidding me?"
"It's not right for a woman to walk about with half their skirt missing, Claire" I whisper in a shocked voice and run my fingers through my hair. "People will think your a whore," I add without thinking.
Randall snorts loudly. I look over and he is leaning back in his chair, one arm folded over it's back, watching and listening to us argue with a huge grin on his face. He is enjoying this, the wee bastard.
"A whore? Are you kidding me? You think this outfit makes me look like a whore Jamie? You simply can not be serious!" She is infuriated and no longer whispering. Her eyes have narrowed in anger and her hands are balled into fists by her side. I have never seen a woman so mad before.
"No, Claire. I did not say you look like a whore. I said people might think you were one, because the bottom half of your skirt is gone." I stupidly reply.
Randall makes a minimal effort to stifle a laugh. He is unsuccessful. No surprise there. He is grinning ear to ear when I glance at him. He is enjoying this way too much.
To this Lambert interrupts and adds, "Remember Claire, where Jamie comes from a woman's skirts go to the floor. Showing ones ankles would be considered a bit trampish, or whorish to use Jamie's word." He looks at me, winks and then buries his face back in his book.
"Half my skirt is not missing, Jamie." Claire hisses at me and pokes me in the chest with her finger. She looks at Frank and asks, rather too sweetly I think, "How do you like the way I am dressed Frank? Do you think my skirt too short?" She turns back and shoots me a look; if looks could really kill, I'd be a dead man now.
Randall looks from a Verra Angry, Upset Claire to Squirming, Idiot Me and says, "I think you have never looked lovelier, Claire." He looks directly at me and smiles. Now I ball my hand into a fist. All I want to do is punch him, right where he smiles. Cac. To make the matter worse, the man that "shushed" us moments ago, turns, nods his head in confirmation to Randall's comment and says, "The man's right. She looks great. You're an idiot."
Claire turns her back on me and walks away, down to the end of the aisle and then turns left, away from the table. Do I follow or leave her alone, I ask myself? I am already walking after her before I have even decided that following her was probably not going to be my best course of action. When I reach the end of the aisle and look to the left. I do'na see her. I turn and walk down this aisle, looking both left and right down the rows of bookshelves until I find her on the left of the fourth aisle. She is sitting on the floor with her head on her bent knees and her arms draped over her head. She is talking to herself. "...and you got mad at him. You are such an idiot Beauchamp. Of course he doesn't understand. He is upset because..."
I clear my throat. Claire stops talking. "Claire," I start...
"Go away Jamie." Claire says. She does not lift her head from her knees to even look at me. "Please, just leave me alone."
I can'na do that. I can'na leave her this angry at me. I sit on the floor opposite her and wait.
Finally, she looks up at me. She has two black eyes. "Claire," I say with alarm. "You have broken your nose. I scoot across the floor until I am sitting next to her. My face is scanning hers, looking for the break in her nose. I grab my handkerchief from my sporran and ready for the bloody nose I ken is coming. I feel her nose for the break. "What did ya hit your nose on, Sassenach? I ken it hurts, but it is better that I set it right away."
"What are you talking about, Jamie?" Claire asks as she slaps my hands away. "I did not break my nose. I'd know if I hit it."
I start to wipe the tears from her cheeks and some of the black comes off on my handkerchief. I gasp in horror. "Claire, it's your tears! You are crying black tears! We need to get you to a healer, quickly." I stand, grab Claire by the shoulders and pull her to her feet.
"What? What are you talking about black tears, Jamie?" Claire takes her hands and wipes under both eyes then looks at her hands. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. My mascara is running all down my face. Oh damn, I must look a mess. No wonder you're scared."
I stop and stare at her when she utters 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ'. I think I actually stop breathing for a moment.
She catches my attention again when she looks up at me and now the whole lower half of her face is smeared in black. She looks like she has ash all over her face. I wipe her face again and more 'mascara' comes off her cheek. I hold my hand out to hand her my handkerchief.
She shakes her head 'No', turns and hides her face in the books behind her.
I could see the tears still rolling down her cheeks before she turned. I feel badly for having made her cry. I am a cad. "I think you are beautiful, in whatever ya wear, Sassenach. Honest. I am just not use to seeing ladies dressed as ya are, is all. Like Lambert said, women of my time, their skirts go to the floor. Ya have no way of knowing that. Please, forgive me, Sassenach." I lean against the same bookshelves and wait for her to turn around.
Claire just sniffles. Her open hand appears on her shoulder. I ken she is asking for the handkerchief. I place it in her hand.
"Dry your eyes Sassenach and tell me ya forgive me my stupidity, please" I ask her again. "I am truly sorry. Do'na be angry with me any more."
She lifts her head and turns to face me. "Oh Jamie. I'm not angry with you. Well I was, when I did not understand. But I am not mad at you now...this was my fault. I'm the idiot. The question is, can you forgive me?" She looks at me with such sadness in her eyes.
"There's nothing to forgive, Sassenach." I say as I reach out and tuck a loose curl behind her ear. "I think ya have verra nice legs. Ya look verra nice in your skirt too."
This makes Claire smile. "How would you know if I have nice legs if you have nothing to compare them to."
I am careful not to touch her. I can see she wants me to, needs me to, but I realize just how unfair I have been to her. Playing on her feelings. I can'na be anything to her. I can'na let myself be more. It will hurt her when I leave, for leave I must. It will hurt her more if I let things continue the way they have. She will give me her heart if I let her. She already has mine.
She is watching me. She sees I have made my decision not to touch her or comfort her with anything other than words. She wants me to hold her, like I did last night. I can see the sadness grow in her eyes but she does not fight me. She does'na beg me. For that I am grateful. I do'na ken if I could say no if she asks. She turns her body so that she is looking at the bookshelves across from where we stand. I look down at my hands and wait to follow her lead.
"I need to go to the Ladies Loo and clean up," she says, finally, with a sigh. "I will meet you back at the table. Can you find your own way back?" Rather than look me in the eye, she asks while looking down at her feet.
"Aye, Claire," I say. I turn and walk away. I do not look back.
"Jamie," Claire says when she returns, a little less black in the face, but her eyes give away she has been crying. "Look what I have found and she places an enormous book on the table in front of me. This book is called A World Atlas. It is a book of maps of the world. All countries, continents and bodies of water, here on Earth."
Both Lambert and Randall stop their reading, look up and watch.
Claire opens the book and starts flipping pages. Great Britain is the first map she shows me. It has England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales & Scotland. The map is huge. It uses the entire two pages. It has such detail. It shows London, Edinburgh, Glasgow & Inverness, to name just a few of the cities it shows. It has towns I have never heard of. Lakes I have never seen. I run my hands over the map, feeling it, reading it, exploring it with my eyes and hands. I turn and look at her. This is a gift she is giving me. An olive branch she is extending. It is Information I will need.
She gives me a weak smile and asks, "Ready for the next one?"
I nod my head not really understanding what she means.
Claire turns to a World Map and says, "this is a map of the World, Jamie. Planet Earth. It is drawn to scale, too. This is Great Britain," and she show me a small spot on this huge map. She shows me France, Spain and Italy. She shows me The Americas, the New World she tells me, The Colonies. I have no words to express my gratitude for what she is showing me. I read the names of the countries... Russia, China, Australia, Canada, Greenland. She tells me the Arctic and the Antarctic never thaw. They are always frozen, like the 'ice cubes' from her refrigerator. Year round. She shows me how to find a map of any county I see on the World Map and then stands straight and says she will be back. She walks away and disappears down the aisle and around the corner.
I don't ken how long Claire is gone. I am amazed at this book. I am totally absorbed by it. I am finding countries I have never even heard of. Lambert walks around and helps me find things I am asking about and tells me about the countries I have never heard of. I do not notice that Randall is just sitting back in his chair, watching and listening.
When Claire returns, she has two new books with her. She sets one down on top of the World Atlas. This book is titled Our Solar System. Claire says it is a book about 'Planets'.
"We live on Planet Earth, Jamie." She begins. She opens the book and the first page she turns to shows all the planet in our solar system in size to each other and how close they are to the Sun. Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune & Pluto. She tells me about telescopes, orbits, milky ways and worm holes. I do'na ken most of it but she says the book about planets we can take home with us; back to her flat. I can continue to look at it there. We must come back to look at the Atlas; it cannot be removed from the Library. She closes the first and sets down the second. Scotland is the title of the 2nd book. It has a castle on the cover. "Beaufort," I say out loud. It is a picture of Beaufort Castle, my Grandsire's home in Beauly. I ken it anywhere.
I turn to Claire. I place my hand on her arm. She looks up from the book but won't look me in the eye. Instead she looks past me, at her Uncle. "Thank you Claire." I say to her. "This is truly a gift. It will make a great difference." She kens I mean it.
"Frank," Claire starts.
Randall looks up from watching me to look at Claire. "Yes?" he answers rather than asks.
"I think it would be a really good idea for Jamie to delay our trip to the Stones a day or two. I think Jamie should meet Reverend Wakefield and have a chat with him. He should go with you this afternoon. I was also thinking that maybe tomorrow, if you would be so kind, could you, rather would you, take Jamie to Culloden? Let him look around. You can best answer any questions he might have. I would not be the best person to take him; he would learn more from you. Would you do that, for me Frank?" Her voice is strong, but still full of sadness. She still will not look me in the face. "I will owe you a dinner, of your choosing, in return. Deal?"
Randall looks from Claire to me, then back. "If you're doing the cooking, and I get to pick what you prepare, then it's a deal." He turns and looks at me. "It's you and me mate, this afternoon, then. And tomorrow I will pick you up early. It will take us an hour by car to get to Culloden. There is an old castle, Leoch I think it is pronounced, I've been meaning to stop and walk through. Home to a Clan MacKenzie for centuries. Wakefield's adopted son is a descendant from that particular clan. Also there is a Fort Williams in the general area I have been meaning to stop by and see. It was a foothold for the British Army. Lots of Scots were kept prisoner there. If it's Beaufort you recognize," and he taps the book cover, "then it will be overnight to take that in as well." He is watching my face for reactions to all that he says and mentions. My gaze meets his and I give him a half smile. I lean back in my chair, fold my arms across my chest and raise an eyebrow at him. He raises his both his eyebrows at me in return. We are just short of growling at each other, testing each others resolve.
Lambert breaks the silence asking, "Are we done for the day then? Shall I take us to lunch? Claire said she is not hungry and has left to catch the bus for home."
My gaze breaks from Randall's at the mention of Claire leaving. I look and her coat is gone. I turn and look toward the door in time to see Claire practically running out the door. I get up and follow. I exit and see Claire running down the Library entrance steps.
"Claire," I call. She does not turn around. "Claire, wait," I plead. "Please, wait." She stops on the last step before she is to step onto the sidewalk. She allows me catch up to her. She won't look at me. I ken it's because she is crying. I ken better that to touch her, to turn her to look at me, to lift her head so I can look into her eyes. Instead, I walk around her, to stand in front of her, to block her, so she will listen to me.
"I am sorry Claire. I do'na mean ta hurt ya. I have to go back. Ya ken that, aye?" I say with as much gentleness as I can manage. In such a short time she has come to mean so much to me. It will be hard to let her go. The sooner I leave, the easier it will be for both of us.
"I know that Jamie," she says as she looks down at her hands, wringing them. "You have to go back. That does not make it any easier. That's why I got so mad earlier. I realized just how much it hurt for me to hear you to say you did not like what I was wearing." She looks up and holds her hand to my mouth to stop me from rebutting what she just said. Her cheeks are wet from tears. "I know that's not how you meant it, that's just how I took it. What made me cry was that I realized I got so mad at you because I care so much for you, already. It really hurt me to think that you did not like what I was wearing. That I thought you did not think I was pretty. That I displeased you. It has not been one full day, Jamie, and I am already this crazy for you that you can bring me to tears. You have my heart, something I have never given to another soul, not to my parents, not even to Lamb. And I will have to let you go, and I think that will break it. I truly do. I just need to walk for awhile, alright?"
I reach out and wipe a newly formed tear from her eye. "Claire," I whisper softly. "I feel the same way. I wish we had more time, that I did'na have to go, but I do, I must. I have to. My family..."
"I understand Jamie, really I do. It just does not make it easier, that's all." Claire replies and lowers her head. "I can not seem to stop how I feel about you. Just let me walk. I'll be alright by the time you come home, NO, by the time you come back to the flat for supper." She lifts her head and gives me the worst excuse for a smile I have ever seen.
"Claire, Claire."
I look up to see Randall coming towards us down the steps. He stops and places a hand on Claire's arm. My hand automatically balls into a fist when he touches her.
"Claire," Frank gently speaks my Sassenach's name. She looks up. Randall takes one look at her face and shoots me a look that says this is all my fault. I have hurt her. I have made Claire cry. He digs a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to her. My other hand balls into a fist. "Claire, do you remember last night, when I said that I knew Jamie from somewhere? Well, I remembered where. Do you remember the week you came to visit, before you moved here, right after the War ended. That holiday you took. I got you a room at that Bed and Breakfast on the square? Remember, your last night I was going to take you to dinner, only I was late because I was working with Reverend Wakefield all afternoon and we always loose track of time. Remember how bad the weather was? Pouring rain. I was soaked by the time I got to your room and you said I looked as though I had seen a ghost? Remember? Do you remember how I described the chap I saw?"
Claire answered, "Tall, well over 6 feet. Red hair. In full Highlander dress. A running Stag broach and a brown bonnet. Yes, yes. I remember."
Randall turns to to me and asks, "Do you have a broach, Jamie?"
I reach into my sporran and take out the running stag broach my sister Jenny gave to me for my 21st birthday and hand it to Randall. "Is that the one you saw?" I ask Randall.
He nods his head in affermation.
Claire says, "No Frank, that can not be. You said it was a ghost. Not a real person. That the man turned before you could get a good look at his face. It was raining and it's been over a year. You can not possibly say for sure it was Jamie." Claire looks me in the face.
"I have had strange dreams my whole life, Sassench. They are often about a woman, with wild curly brown hair, beautiful pale, flawless skin and a laugh that brings me to climax every time I dream it. I have been in love with her since she first appeared, when I was 14. Most of the dreams take place in my time. Places that I recognize as around Lallybroch. She has spoken to me in French, Sassenach, so I thought she was French. I thought the woman was Yvette until I met you. You speak French, don't you Claire? Not like a native, but your accent is good, aye?"
Claire nods her head.
"I had a dream once, that never made any sense to me until I came here. I was standing in the rain, looking up at you, Sassenach. I could see you standing in a 2nd floor window. The window had a glow; even though it was full night, no moon, pouring rain, the room was bright. 1000 lit candles could not make this brightness. You were brushing your hair. You were mad because your hair was a tangled mess and you could not get the brush through it. You said, 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ', Claire, just as clearly as you did just awhile ago in the Library. I don't remember you from any of my dreams, Randall, nor Lambert. Only Claire. And sometimes a funny little frenchman that looks like a frog."