"Jamie," Claire exclaims, looking up from her wrist watch. "Look at the time. We've got to get moving if we are going to go by Kinloch Anderson. We need to get you at least another kilt. I'd like to find you a pair of trousers, I'm sorry, breeks, and a couple of shirts as well. We've got to hurry. The shoppes will close for supper soon."
I look up from a map the Reverend has spread out on a table. Randall has been explaining the British strong holds and known ambush spots as Wakefield has been telling me about the Jacobite movements. This is valuable information. They have been lecturing for over three hours now, and I think they could continue until the wee hours of the morning and not run out of facts to share. My mind is overwhelmed with this new knowledge. I think it is time to give my head a rest. I have not even begun to sift though the thoughts that Mrs. Graham left with me. Clothes shopping with Claire is just what my head needs. Well, actually time with Claire is really what I need, clothes shopping will be the distraction to be alone with her. My Sassenach is my confidant and adviser. We will work through all this information together.
Randall starts to pack his satchel but I say, "No need for you to leave Randall. Clearly you two have a great deal more to speak about. Claire and I can walk to the shoppes and then back to her flat from here."
"What? And miss clothes shopping with you. Not a chance." Randall says and continues to pack his papers.
I turn and look at Claire. She shrugs her shoulder as if to say 'I don't know what to tell you' and I look back at the Reverend, extend my hand to him and say, "This has indeed been an honor, Reverend. I can'na thank you enough for your time, wisdom and knowledge. You have been most generous with all three. I am sure Randall here will keep you updated as to the success of my return. Hopefully my return home can make a difference."
The Reverend takes my hand in both of his. "You will be in my prayers, James. I wish you well and safe travels then if your mind is made up to go back. Perhaps we shall find you in our history books, if you are successful, that is," he says and shakes his head in disbelief. "The lord's workings are a mystery sometimes. It will all become clear to you and I at some point, I hope."
Claire steps forward and places her hand in mine, nods her head to the Reverend and tells Randall we will meet him outside by the car. We turn to walk to the kitchen and Mrs. Graham. Goodbyes are said and hugs given and we leave the Manse behind.
When we arrive at Kinloch Anderson, Claire marches in, dragging me with her. Randall holds the door open, letting us pass and then follows us in. We are greeted by a verra friendly gentleman, dressed verra strangely. Like Randall, a coat, verra short waistcoat (Claire calls it a vest) and breeks all of a matching dark blue, a verra finely woven fabric. A white shirt and instead of a stock around his throat, matching the shirt fabric, he has what Randall calls a 'tie' made of clan MacDonald plaid. Who ties clan plaid around their throat unless ya expect someone ta grab ya by it and strangle ya? Especially MacDonald colours. That's almost as bad as waving red fabric at a male highland cow. But then Clan MacDonald is always sticking their necks out. I smile to myself at my wee joke.
Claire walks up to the man and said, "We'd like to see what you have in a Fraser tartan, please. We are specifically looking for a kilt." Almost like she's done it 1000 times before rather than bluffing her way through this first time. She does make me smile. She is wee fierce when she has to be.
The man seems a little startled, but gathers himself and tell Claire to follow him. He walks us to the back wall and there must be over 100 different plaids hanging on the wall. "We have both the dress and the weathered Fraser of Lovat tartan in stock. Which are you interested in Madame?"
Claire turns to me and asks, "Do you have a preference, Jamie?"
I do'na ken dress from weathered. The look on my face must tell Claire that for she turns back to the gentleman and says, "We'd like to see both please." I turn and Randall is just standing there, leaning against a table, smiling. He is having way too much enjoyment at my expense today.
The gentlemen picks up a verra long stick with a hook on the end and walks to a section and lifts a 'hanger' which has fabric of red with blue and green plaid running through it. I ken this tartan. It is Fraser colours for sure. This is the Lairds plaid, and although I am a Fraser Laird and entitled to wear it, I don't want anyone here or when I go back, to ken it. Mine is safe with Jenny at Lallybroch. I have seen this plaid worn in a portrait painting somewhere as well, though where I saw the painting, I can'na recall. The man then lifts down a second tartan. This one is predominately a blue with red and green plaid woven through it but I now ken why the gentleman uses the word weathered. I would use the word hunt or hunter. The first plaid's colours are vibrant and bright. This second plaid's colours are much more subtle than the first. Blends in better with the heather, scrubs, trees and grasses and such. Makes for better cover when you are hunting, or being hunted; not so easy to find.
I turn to Claire and say, "The second one."
The gentleman snaps his fingers and a much younger lad comes over. Dressed almost the same as the gentleman helping us but his tie is a different plaid. I do'na ken his clan. "Place this in changing room 2 for the gentleman to try on," the older gentleman says to the younger one and hands him the Fraser hunt kilt."
"No, no. I am sorry I did not make myself clear." Claire interrupts. "We are looking for the 9 yards of fabric, not the per-made kilt. My friend here folds his own. The old fashioned way," Claire says in clarification.
The gentleman nods his head to indicate he understands completely and pulls down another hanger and has just what we need. He calls the young man back, explains the change and then he turns back to Claire and says, "The gentleman will need a belt as well then. Would Madame care to look at any shirts, ties or a jacket to go with the kilt, today?"
"Yes," Claire starts. "Frank, what do you think, 1 or two dress shirts?"
"Two I think is best, Claire. If he dirties one, he will have a back up," he says. "We don't know how many days we will be gone yet."
And then to me, she says, "White or Eggshell, Jamie? Or one of each I suppose."
"I do'na ken 'eggshell', Claire" is the only answer I can give.
She turns back to the gentleman and says, "One of each white and eggshell please. You will have to measure my friend. I am unsure of his size."
The older gentleman walks toward me with a piece of cloth. It has wee numbers written on it. He walks around behind me and I turn around so that I continually face him.
Frank walks over, places a hand on my shoulder and says, "You need to stand still, Jamie. The man needs to measure your shoulder width, your neck and the length of your arm to correctly fit the shirts. Just look at Claire. I will watch him for you," and he nods his head at me.
I nod my head in return. It feels strange to allow this Randall to guard my back since it is another Randall, Franks relation, that created the damage that I do not want to the man ken is there. I shake my head, to clear the thought, and and look at Claire instead. She is smiling at me and I smile back.
"We will need trousers as well as a belt so you best measure his waist and instep while you have the tape measure out," she says to the gentleman, "A brown pair, something with a tuck in the front to give him some moving room, please."
"The trousers will be for special purposes since you prefer kilts, Jamie. You must have at least one pair. I think one pair in a brown will do for present." Claire says as she walks up and places her hand on my cheek. I can see she really just wants to be alone with me. She wants to talk about today. To hear my thoughts about what everyone said and did. "Tonight," I say as I look into her eyes. "After supper and Lambert goes to bed. Will his friend be at the flat, do you think?"
Claire shakes her head 'No, I don't think Lamb will be back tonight either." and she gives me a look I do not ken. At first I think the look is hunger, which does'na really make sense to me, since we just had tea and biscuits. The look is only there for a moment and then it is gone, but I think maybe, just maybe, it was hunger, just not for food.
"Do you ken this friend of his?" I ask.
"I don't know who Lamb is referring to, Jamie. He is being rather vague about this friend, isn't he? Claire expresses. She turns to Randall and asks, "Do you know who this mysterious friend of Uncle Lamb's is, Frank?"
"No," Frank answers. "When he mentioned he had a friend coming to town, the way he worded it, I thought he had a girlfriend, Claire. Ask Jamie. I even teased him a little, and Lambert actually got a little angry about it. He did say something odd, however. He implied that Jamie was the reason he was here, that this mysterious friend had asked Lambert to come and meet Jamie; like they knew Jamie was coming." Randall looked me in the eye and said, "It's not my imagination, right, Jamie? Lambert said he was here to meet you."
"Aye, that's what Lambert said Claire," I add. "Lambert in the carriage, told me he was coming back from Edinburgh. Some research he was doing for you, Randall."
"Research for me?" Randall repeats with surprise in his voice. "Edinburgh? Really? That would have taken overnight Claire. Your uncle did not even ask to borrow the car until about 5pm last night. Just as we were finishing up at the Library. That's when he told me to come to dinner, so I could pick up the car as well."
"This whole thing does not make any sense, Jamie" Claire states. "It's not like Lamb to be so secretive. What's going on?"
"I guess we will ken when this mystery man shows up, aye? Jamie states. "We will just have to wait."
"Sir," the gentleman addresses Jamie. "We are ready for you. If you will please follow me. Right this way."
I turn and look at Claire. Claire nod her head. "It's alright, Jamie. You are just going to try everything on to make sure that it all fits and that you like the items. That you are happy with the choices. I will wait right here for you to come out and show me, alright?"
I nod my head but do not move.
"Jamie, I can not go back there with you." Claire whispers and strokes my cheek. "It's not allowed. No one will be in the actual room to see your back, if that is your concern. You will dress and undress in private. I promise." She then turns to Frank and says, "Frank, will you go back to the dressing room with Jamie. He doesn't need you to go in and help, just be there in case he has any trouble with things?"
"Sure, Claire." Randall replies, but looks a little confused. "Come with me then Jamie. Let's see if any of these things fit, shall we?"
And back to the dressing room we go.
"Claire." I call as I step out of the 'fitting room' a couple of minutes later wearing the kilt, new belt and white shirt . She is looking at a table covered in ties. I start to walk over to her, as she lifts her head and looks at me. Her glass face tells me she is pleased with what she sees.
"There is a saying, Jamie, "The clothes make the man' however in your case I think it is 'The man makes the clothes.' You look resplendent." She says with a smile and sighs. "Do you like it? Are you comfortable?" she asks as she rounds my back and smooths the shirts shoulders. The shirt is a nice fit, Jamie. You don't feel restricted do you? Take your arms and do this..." and she stand in front of me, raises both arms to shoulder height, crosses one arm over the other, like she is trying to hug herself. "That will tell us if the shirt is too small across the back." She walks around and again runs her hand across my back. "No. It looks like it fits well. Jamie?"
"I have plenty of room, Claire. It is a verra fine fabric. This is the white one. I will put the egg shirt on with the breeks. Ya want me change now?" I ask.
"Yes, lets see if the trousers fit and the other shirt." Claire agrees.
I turn and go back to the fitting room. I come back out a few minutes later, barefoot and in the breeks and the egg shirt. "Claire." I say, and I stand still and wait.
Claire turns and just for just a moment I see that look of love mixed with want and desire in her eyes. I look down at the ground for a moment to give Claire a chance to recover and then I walk to her.
"You are... You look..." and she gives up and just smiles. She leans forward as if to kiss me but stops. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She then opens her eyes and the look is gone. She places two fingers of her fingers in the waist of the breeks and pulls slightly. "The waist seems to fit. How do they feel? Are they comfortable?"
I nod my head. I can not take my eyes off her face. Claire is trying awfully hard not to look me.
"Shoes or work boots. You can not wear the ones you have with these pants. Socks, boxers, several undershirts. What about a sweater? Jacket? Vest?" She looks everywhere but at me when she asks.
I walk another step forward and place my hand on her arm. "Claire," I say softly. "Sassneach, look at me, please."
She raises her head and I let her see that I want her as much, if not more, than she wants me. I gently shake my head 'No'. A single tear rolls down her cheek and I wipe it away with the knuckle of my forefinger.
Randall clears his throat.
"Handkerchiefs. We need a couple of handkerchiefs for you as well," Claire says and gives me an attempt at a smile.
The gentleman leads me to a platform with 3 mirrors that are taller than I am. I stand and let the gentleman 'mark' the trousers to be hemmed. Claire says, The shoppe will have the trousers altered and delivered to Claire's flat first thing tomorrow morning.
"The pants should have a one inch cuff as well." Randall adds. And Claire agrees and tells the gentleman to make note.
We go two doors down to Barbour's to look for a jacket for me. I will need it while we travel. Claire finds a "handsome hunter green with a brown corduroy collar." It has nice large pockets and plaid inside; Claire calls it a lining. The plaid is similar to the MacKenzie tartan. Claire says the lining is flannel and will keep me warm. It has a zipper to close the front, no buttons. Claire also finds a 'cardigan' sweater for me. A beautiful blue with brown wooden buttons down the front.
"Those poor stores never knew what hit them," Randall says when we leave a little more than two hours later. "Claire, you had 4 salesmen running in ten different directions. Like a General you were, barking orders. Jamie, do you even know what you have in these parcels? At least you know what boxers are now," and Randall laughs.
We pile back into Randall's wee carriage. This is the same carriage that Lambert was driving when he found me last night in the rain. Less than a day ago. Randall says it is his car, that Lambert borrows it sometimes. There is no room in the little back seat for Claire because of all the packages. She sits on my lap the trip back to her flat. There is plenty of room when the 'roof is down'.
Randall pulls up in front of Claire's building. "Are you coming up for a drink before you head home Frank?" Claire asks.
"No," he replies. "I think I will go back to my place and go over my notes from today. I had a lot of help and lots of notes. Thanks though. I will pick you two up tomorrow at 9am sharp. Try and get some sleep." and he smiles sheepishly at Claire.
"Thank you Frank," I start. "I really appreciate all your help as well. The information you shared with me today will be verra valuable when I return." This is the first time I have call him by his first name. I wonder if that means we are friends...
"We may not have found your Lallybroch, but if you really can and do return to your time I guess it won't really matter much, will it? Why don't you help Claire upstairs with these packages and then come down for the rest. I will wait here."
"Alright Frank." and I open the door and wait for Claire.
Claire goes up to Frank and says, "Thank you so much for everything today," as she rests her hand lightly on his arm. "It's a real help to Jamie, and to me, and I am indebted to you for this and tomorrow's travels. I don't know if I will ever be able to repay you."
"Well, Miss Beauchamp, if this is an attempt to get out of that promised dinner, you are sadly mistaken. I will hold you to it." Frank says with a smile. "Now go upstairs, draw yourself a nice hot bath. Have a glass of scotch and go to bed EARLY. We have a very busy day scheduled for tomorrow." He kisses her lightly on the cheek and Claire lets him. She has never allowed him to touch her in that manner before. My eyes narrow as Frank's gaze meets mine when Claire turns and walks through the open door.
"I will be right back Randall," I promise. I continue to give him a narrowed look, then turn and follow Claire into the building and up the stairs.
True to my word, I am back down the stairs in no time. I practically throw the packages on the settee when we get to the flat, in my haste to get back downstairs and confront Randall. He kissed My Claire. On the cheek, aye, but a kiss is a kiss. And Claire allowed it. And she touched him. Flirted almost. With Randall, no less. I will have a talk with Claire after I have words with Randall. Claire is mine. No more of this touching and kissing on the cheek with each other. Kissing on the cheek leads to kissing on the lips. No. That will not happen.
I burst out the door and there is Randall, leaning against the car with his arms folded across his chest and a 'cat that caught the bird' grin on his face. I puff myself up to my full height, straighten my back, which makes my chest look larger and I lock eyes with him. I walk the three large steps until I am less than arms length from him. I could easily grab him around the throat and throttle him like a chicken.
"Oh? Did I upset you, Jamie?" Randall asks sarcastically. "You don't like that I kissed Claire and she kissed me back, do you?"
"No. No I do not," I state succinctly. "I do'na like you touching her at all."
"Well, I don't like You touching Her either, so we are even." Randall enunciates. "However, Claire, for some unexplainable reason, has become really quite attached to you, in what I consider to be an extremely short amount of time. I will have to give you that one and make allowances for it. So what I really can only object to is You making her Cry. Making her Sad. Hurting her at all." Randall replies and pokes me in my puffed up chest with his finger. "How do you like that, my wee warrior?"
"Do'na poke me." I growl. "Claire is mine, Randall...
"Oh, really? Yours? Does Claire know that? I think things were pretty clear between the two of you, almost from the start, last night and when she first arrived at the Library; things were still strong between you two this morning. But something happened there, at the Library. Was it when you made her mad? Maybe. She came back from your little discussion having obviously been crying. I think that is when the dynamic changed. I think your feelings for each other have not altered; you clearly feel something for Claire and she is most definitely ready to give her heart to you. Plain as day while we were shopping. She looks at you the way I always hoped she would someday look at me, but never has. But now you are holding yourself back and Claire in check. And that is making a woman I care for very deeply, cry and in obvious pain. I won't have her crying and hurt, do you hear me? I certainly will not tell you what to do. I am simply advising you not to hurt her. Do you hear me? If you are leaving then stop stringing her along. If you are staying, then you better love and take care of her the way she deserves. I am watching you James Fraser. I am warning you, Do Not Hurt Claire." Randall abruptly stopped talking and stared at me. He clearly is waiting for my reply.
"I love her Randall. She is my heart." I state. "But the information you and the Reverend have shared makes it clear, I must return if I can." I grab the last couple of packages, turn and walk back to the door. I stop and turn back to Randall and say, "Do not ever tell me what to do or threaten me again. Are we clear? I will do what I ken is the correct thing to do." I turn, walk into the building, up the stairs and into Claire's flat. I close and bolt the door behind me. "Claire?" I call out.
"Yes," says my beautiful Sassenach as she pokes her head out of the kitchen.
I place the last of the packages on the settee and walk up to Claire. I grab her by the arms tightly, move her so that she is pressed against the same wall she pushed me against when she fixed my shoulder and I kissed her. HARD. And Long. And I only stopped because I needed to breathe.
"oh my," is all my Sassenach can say.