Je Suis Prest – Frasers return to Lallybroch
Claire disembarked the bus at the stop just prior to her own. She needed to go to the corner market and the butcher before making her way back to the flat. She need to get groceries for Jamie and Murtagh to tide them over for several days. Until they learned how to make their way around Lallybroch and Broch Mordha or she could get back to help them get sorted. They would need to survive on what she brought with them.
John had told them to make themselves at home; eat and use whatever they needed as he handed Jamie the keys to Lallybroch but Claire wanted to make sure they had the staples and enough fresh produce. Jamie alone could eat an entire cow when he was hungry and a dozen eggs would be a snack before bed. She knew there were chickens, so there would be eggs in a pinch, but John had not mentioned a pantry and she was sure there would be no milk or bread or whiskey. Without proper provisions, the two of them would either starve or make a sizable dent in John's livestock population; he would have no animals left when he was released from hospital and returned to the farm if she did not stock the shelves.
She was not sure Jamie or Murtagh would be able to use a modern stove but certainly the house must have a fireplace somewhere, even if they had to cook in the living room. Or, she thought, they could improvise and make a fire pit outside somewhere and cook outdoors if they had to. Jamie had said he and his Godfather had been roughing it in their travels from Edinburgh to Inverness; camping, hunting and foraging the land to survive. But it was winter now. She'd have to have faith that her two Highland Warriors could manage until she could get back. Jamie had talked about rabbit stew being one of his favorite meals his sister Jenny would make. Surely they could catch a rabbit, if they could find one. How did one catch a rabbit anyway, she wondered?
They were leaving for Lallybroch tonight, all traveling together in Frank's car but Claire would have to come back to Inverness with Frank this evening. As much as she wanted to stay, she couldn't. She was scheduled to work for the next 4 days. She had just come back from taking several days off, she simply could not ask for more time and keep her position; she did not feel she could ask it of her fellow nurses to juggle days to cover for her yet again. Claire would have to look into taking the bus to Broch Mordha on her next scheduled days off.
Frank pulled up and parked just outside Claire's building. He had agreed to meet up with everyone at her place and drive out to Lallybroch tonight. He was leaving for Glasgow, by car, tomorrow, early and would be gone for almost a week. He had scheduled appointments with the Glasgow Museum of History as well as The University of Glasgow's research department. Both appointments had been booked months ago and he absolutely needed to keep them. He would not be given another opportunity like this. He was going into the vaults at both sites. He had pulled some strings and was going to not only see, but be allowed to handle some very rare and unique letters pertaining specifically to the 1746 Battle at Culloden Moor. Personal letters written by Lord Melton, Colonel of the 46th Regiment of foot; a large coup. It was a huge boost to his research. He had told Claire he was happy to drive everyone out to Lallybroch but it was either tonight or wait until his return.
Quite honestly he really wanted to be there to witness, first hand, Jamie and Murtagh's return home. Another unique opportunity for him as a historian, much like their visit to Castle Leoch. To be given a guided tour of the 200 year old dwelling by someone who had actually lived in it. It sent shivers down his spine as he remembered Jamie's monologue as they had walked through Castle Leoch. Fraser, Frank believed, had an eidetic memory; Castle Leoch had been in ruins but Fraser had remembered every turn and every room down to the smallest of details. Frank had hung on Fraser's every word, drawing him in, making him feel like he was right there walking the great halls beside Jamie. The images had been so real, so vividly painted with words, Frank thought he could almost smell the meats roasting in the kitchen, taste the ale on his tongue and hear the people talking.
If he had to be totally honest with himself, he was becoming quite attached to the two Scots. He liked being around them, enjoyed the time he spent with them. He could listen to them banter back and forth all day; the men had quite a bond. They were true Scots and could spin a tale that would have you on the edge of your seat and always wanting more. Both Jamie and Murtagh shared the same dry wit and had quick, sharp minds though the Godfather was a bit more reserve than young Jamie. It was hard to believe Fraser was only 22 years of age; he had seen and done things, much older men could only dream of. He grasped new concepts and information quickly. Jamie was a bit of a sieve, adsorbing everything Claire, he and Lambert told him, and he retained what he learned, you never had to tell him anything twice unless it concerned modern conveniences; cars, phones, stoves and such still stymied him a bit. When Frank took them to Craigh na Dun yesterday morning, he had honestly felt a sadness; it was a bit of a surprise when he admitted to himself that he would miss them. He found himself thinking of them, perhaps as extended family or good friends. This natural easiness was something he had never really had with other men and he would certainly never tell either Fraser. He wondered if either of them felt the same comradery with him. While similar to his relationship with Claire, Franks need or want for Claire was totally different. Although he had a comfortable friendship with Claire he had always wanted more, more it seemed than she was willing or could to give him. She certainly had never looked a him the way she looked at Fraser. He'd never heard her laugh until Fraser showed up.
Randalls had money you see. Lots of it. Frank had never wanted for anything his whole life, except family. Even now, if he wanted it, he only had to express his desire to his parents and he would receive it, like the car. He had wanted the totally impractical two passenger sports car because he thought Claire might be impressed. Ha, he laughed at his own stupidity. He did not tell people about the money. Not that he minded people judging him by his wealth; he rather enjoyed having the things money could buy him or do for him. It gave him a feeling of superiority, being better than most everyone, because he came from money.
He was Frank Wolverton Randall, actually Franklin, though he never told ANYONE his birth name and never signed paperwork as such. Always Frank and not a 2nd or a Junior; Franklin was his Grandfather's first name, his mother's father. The first male Randall of every generation was a Wolverton Randall, though first names varied, all the way back to the 1800's. Jamie's time. Captain Jonathon Wolverton Randall of his Majesty's Eighth Dragoons. Seeing and hearing Jamie exploits with the Captain had actually made him regret the family connection for the first time.
Frank had no brothers or sisters. His mother had produced a male heir with their first child so they were done having babies and went back to the social gatherings and traveling which had made up their lives prior to his birth. They left him at home in the care of the nanny. He could not remember his parents at home for a birthday or Christmas nor could he find a picture as proof that they come home long enough to help him celebrate any childhood milestones. Not even his graduation from University, and that he could clearly remember.
Nanny Wilson. Now there was a strict, straight laced, by the books, drill sergeant if ever there were one. Breakfast at 7am sharp. No sleeping the day away. Brisk walk for an hour about the gardens or play a game of chess with Mosby, the butler, if it was raining or snowing. He had riding lessons every afternoon and three days a week he had shooting lessons as well. He knew his way around a rifle as well as a gun. He was even a pretty good shot with a bow and arrow. At age 5, he was given a tutor; reading, writing and arithmetic. His tutor was Mr. MacGregory. Frank had learned to read from books about the Jacobite rebellions, from a Scot's perspective. The British were always the bad guys. He never told his parents. He was sure his father would have disapproved and fire the man for blasphemy or some such nonsense.
Life was certainly a bowl of cherries until age eight when he was accepted to THE Prep School - Greenways School in Sussex. He was a Blues Boy. He learned to play tennis and golf and was a member of the debate team. In this British boarding school, he learned about the Jacobite rebellions from the Brit's perspective, enlightening him to the knowledge that there are two sides to every coin, so to speak. He was by no means one of the popular boy but he survived because he was smart. He helped the other boys study, pass exams and write term papers so he was left alone by them, almost protected, because he was of use. Two of these boys were now serving in the House of Commons, several more were local barristers, one quite prominent. Contacts, that's what he made in Prep School and University, not friends. That's how he got this chance at the Lord Melton Papers. It's all about Who you know and he knew the Head of the History Department at University and a school mate serves on the board at the Museum.
His parents lived in London. He saw them once a year on his father's birthday; his mother always threw elaborate birthday parties for him. Usually some sort of Themed Masked Ball at an important venue. He made the mistake of missing it just once. He would never make that mistake again. He had been in Bloody, Bum-Fuck Egypt. A place hotter than Hades, he was quite sure. It had taken almost 10 days, using various forms of travel to get from London to the dig site of one Quentin Lambert Beauchamp. He needed to pick the old man's brain for his doctorate work and the bloody man was never in one place long enough for Frank to ever track him down by letter to make the arrangements for a visit. He was not going to shorten the visit just because his father was a year older. You see, while there, Frank fell in love with a then 14 year old Claire, also Quentin's niece, and had never wanted to leave her side.
Claire set the two totes down and placed her key in the lock. Before she could turn it Jamie opened the door, scooped her into his arms and kissed her, long and hard.
"I missed you too, Jamie" Claire said when the kiss ended and gave him a lite kiss on the lips in return. "Help me with the bags, will you ple..." Jamie pushed her up against the wall kissing her again before she could say anything more. Passionately.
This time she was panting slightly when he released her.
"What did ye purchase then, Sassenach?" Jamie asked when they finally separated, for the sole purpose of needing to breathing. "Ye ken we are going straight to Lallybroch. Frank is already here. Did ye not see his automobile out front?" Jamie asked after he kissed her quickly again and released her from the wall. He scooped up the carrying totes and closed the door with a solid push from his foot. Claire noted the overnight bags in the hall by the door. They were packed and ready to go, so it looked.
"Did you remember to pack your toothbrushes?" Claire asked smiling.
"Aye," Murtagh replied as he came to help with the packages.
"Don't unpack anything. This all goes with you to Lallybroch. I can not have you starve to death after all" Claire said. "I hate to leave you there alone. I won't be back until Frank returns or I figure out the bus schedule to Broch Mordha. You two will have to fend for yourselves for a couple of days. I don't want you reduced to eating grass" and I winked at Jamie.
"Frank, would you be a doll and go downstairs and meet the market's delivery boy. He is right behind me on his bike with two more boxes. You can put them straight in the boot. Just let me use the loo and then we can be off" Claire said. "We should be right behind you."
"What did ye get us?" Jamie asked and started shifting packages about. "Is there any pie?"
"Leave it" Claire said and slapped his hand and he set them down on the floor next to the travel bag. "I'll make your supper when we get there. Spaghetti. The dish with the long skinny noodles and red meat gravy you like." I dare not use the word tomato or, as much as Jamie raved about the dish the first time I made it for him, he would never have placed a morsel to his lips if he knew it had finely chopped zucchini and mushrooms as well as those deadly tomatoes.
I notice the H.G. Wells book on the table by the door. "Did you enjoy The Time Machine, Jamie? I asked as I backed up down the hall. "I'll return it to the library this week if you are finished with it."
"I liked it a good deal though I am a bit confused by some of things Mister Wells describes. Perhaps over supper you and Frank wouldn't mind discussing it a wee bit, so I have a clearer idea of what he is talking about" Jamie requested. "One of the pages in the front of the book listed other works by Mister Wells. The Invisible Man is a promising title."
"I was thinking maybe you should start another new author as well. Perhaps Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas or maybe Jules Verne. John said Lallybroch has a substantial library though I am not sure how current it is. It might all be books you have already read" and she smiled at him. "You and Murtagh go ahead and take the bags downstairs. I'll only be another minute."
In less than 5 minutes Claire had changed into slacks and a sweater, grabbed her coat, run down the stairs and out the door. Jamie lifted her into the back seat beside Murtagh. After a quick stop to fill the car with petrol, they found themselves on the A-82. John's directions were perfect and as the car rounded a hill, Jamie gasped and grabbed the dash with both hands. Frank immediately pulled the car to the side of the road and brought it to a stop. From their purchase on the side of the hill, they looked down on a collective of stone buildings nestled quietly in the bit of a valley. Most of the buildings were a single story, except for one; the main building, easliy the largest of the group and looked to have three stories, figuring a row of windows represented a floor. There was a tower behind the main building, appeared to be about the same height. If you were standing in front of the house, you probably would not have even realized it was there. It stood straight and tall.
"It's really there. Lallybroch. We found it." Jamie turned and smiled at Frank and then at me. "Thank you Sassenach. My heart is soaring." Frank pulled back on to the road and we continued toward our destination.
"Broch Tuarach still stands." Shaking his head in disbelief, Jamie turned and whispered to his Godfather. Murtagh placed an understanding hand on Jamie's shoulder and squeezed it ever so slightly. Ten minutes later, they found themselves driving under the arch and into Lallybroch's turnaround. The whole trip made in a little under an hour. They still had another hour of sunlight. Plenty of time for Jamie and Murtagh to check on the animals and have a quick look around and for Claire to prepare supper.
Jamie slowly opened the car door and unfolded himself from the vehicle. Claire noticed he did not take his eyes off the main house; they were darting to and fro, taking the entire front of the house in. He was so engrossed in what stood before him, that Murtagh, having climbed out himself, walked around the car and lifted Claire out as well. The three of them, Murtagh, Frank and Claire stood silently as Jamie slowly crossed the parking area and climbed the steps, placing the palm of his hand against the door. Claire could feel the pull in his heart as he rested his forehead against the door. She was sure his eyes were closed as he whispered the names of the family he had left behind – Jenny, Ian and their children. Claire had been so excited to have found Lallybroch and to make this real for him, she had not even thought about the ramifications of what seeing it would mean for him or to him. His family was gone. Only Murtagh remained. The house would be empty of the love, warmth and noise that family made that had always made it his home. When he opened that door, would any of it really be the same?
Claire moved to walk to him, but Murtagh placed a hand on her arm and whispered "Give the lad a minute alone with his ghosts, aye? He needs to make peace with his sister. I ken Jenny, she's still here, waiting for him to come home to her. Her ghost will no be happy either with the gob either."
Claire looked at Murtagh, smiled and shook her head. Ghosts, she thought. Would this house, this Lallybroch, still be that for him? His home? Claire looked at the beautiful stone dwelling in front of her, the stonework was amazing. Though not colorful they fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The approach was typical of most manor homes, the drive made of small stones, crunching under Jamie's feet as he had approached the house. The house had broad, welcoming stone steps, 4 of them, that led to a small serviceable porch complete with an old and weathered door mat. When Claire approached, she saw the mat simply stated Go Away. Oh John, was her immediately thought then her heart went to Jamie. Poor Jamie, that would not be the welcome Jenny would have given him upon his return home. The entire Murray family would have met Jamie and Murtagh as they had ridden up, she was sure. Dogs barking their welcome as well. There would have been hugs and kisses and everyone trying to squeeze through the door as a single being; no one wanting to let go of anybody. Jamie said he had been gone from Lallybroch for several years when he came through the stones to me.
The front door was a single, enormous, very solid looking piece of wood. Not elegantly carved, pretty plain for a main entrance. It did have a decorative lintel, not ornate but tasteful. Were those strawberries carved on it? She could not tell from this angle. The door had a rather large and very ornate door knocker in the shape of lion's head and a mail slot as well. There was a small, brass plate placed on the wall beside the door that had Lallybroch 1716 inscribed on it.
"Jamie" Claire said as softly as she knew how. "I'm here. Right here for you." She reached out and placed her finger tips on his back. He probably did not even feel it through his coat.
Jamie rolled his head to look at her. Never allowing it to leave contact with the door. Tears were flowing down his face, beside himself with anger, emptiness, guilt and a myriad of other emotions she could not put to name. "She's gone Claire. I canna feel her. Jenny. I ken at the hospital, after talking to John about Angus and Mister Taylor, that they all were gone and ye held me and rocked me in ye arms while I came to understand the implications of all that. But this Claire... this is real. Jenny... Jenny is truly gone Claire. She is dead. All those loon sheep of hers that she asked my da buy... so she could raise them for their special wool... had to have the mindless beasts, ye ken. The coos and horses... the goat pen was right there Claire..." and he motioned toward the arch that lead into the car park.
"Oh Jamie..." I started and then choked as my voice failed me. There was nothing I could say to comfort him. There were no words to ease his pain. I rested my head against his arm as I started to cry with him, in commiseration for his loss. I slipped my arm under his coat and wrapped it around his waist and sighed softly. "Tell me about her, Jamie..."
"Ah Jenny..." and his voice cracked. "Bonnie, so verra bonnie. But she could be mean, like an adder, if ye crossed her. She'd fight ye if she thought she was right. It had been over two years since last I'd seen her, Claire. I had returned home from University in Paris and then almost immediately I was arrested by the British soldiers. I never saw Jenny after that. My last vision is of her with her bodice torn away and Randall threatening to take her in the house and rape her. In the Bible John has, Jenny did no list any bastards with Randall like my Uncle Dougal told me Jenny had. Two my uncle said. Ian must have have come back to Lallybroch when I asked him to and taken care of Jenny. Jenny and Lallybroch. The book shows they married in 1740 and gave Jenny gave birth to seven bairn. She lived a long life, the book says she dinna die until 1783. She have been 63. Do ye think she was happy Claire? Tell me, do ye think life was good for her?"
"Jamie," Claire started as she pulled him down to sit on the top step beside her. She looked up to see Murtagh and Frank standing on the bottom step, listening. "I'm not going to lie to you. I won't sugar coat it. Your sister would have missed you every day you were gone, including when you went to live with that Uncle of yours at Castle Whatever and when you went to school in Paris. She must have been very strong. She took on your mother's duties when she died. How old was Jenny? All of eleven, running an entire household? Then, what, she took control of this entire farm when your father died. Jenny was what age by then? Twenty-two? When she married Ian, she had a partner, to love and protect her. He gave her a family that they raised together. They shared the burden of running this farm. Look. Look around you. Look at what is left, after 200 years. That bloody tower is even still standing. Look what your father, mother and an amazingly strong and loving sister built for you. It's like Jenny knew you were here Jamie, and Clan Murray made sure to leave your legacy in tact for you find, never leaving her family's custodianship. I am sure it's so you could take your rightful place as Laird of Lallybroch. Oh, Jenny is still here my lad," and Claire patted Jamie's knee. "Of that I have no doubt. You will never convenience me that your sister did not have a hand in our finding John either. Carrying that bloody Bible into hospital. No clothes just the Bible. Shall we go inside and look for her my love?" Claire kissed the top of Jamie's head.
Jamie lifted his head from her shoulder and looked at Claire. Her eyes were red from the tears spent crying with him. "God, I do love you Sassenach" and he stood and offered his hand to Claire to help her to her feet, then he moved to the door to unlock it.
There was definitely not a woman about the farm Claire thought as she glanced around the front yard. The shutters all needed a fresh coat of paint, one was even hanging askew. There were no flower beds on either side of the front step nor window boxes or planters. Perhaps she could help with that in the spring, she thought. Spruce up the place. Might make Jamie feel better, make it feel more like home.
Murtagh moved forward, passing Claire on the top step as Jamie, fumbled with the key and finally got the door unlocked. He pushed the thumb latch down and swung the door open and slowly walked under the threshold. Murtagh followed close behind. Frank took a step forward to follow, but I grabbed his arm and held him back. When he looked over his shoulder I shook my head. Reflection crossed his face and he took my hand and we walked back to the car to get the groceries and took them into the house.
They were still in the hall. Murtagh was fingering some marks on the wall; the wood paneling had several deep, long gouges in them. Jamie stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on one of the banisters, his hand petting it in memory, perhaps a time he slid down it when his parents were not looking. The hall was large, both long and wide. It's length ran the depth of the house, ending at a large picture window with a window seat. Claire set the box she was carrying down on the floor by the door and walked down the length of it and kneeling on the bench seat, noting that it desperately need a new cushion, and looked out the window, which was quite filthy. It was going to take a small army to clean all these windows, inside and out. The hall was as wide as her living room. Did Jamie say he and Willie had played shinty inside once and received punishment from their da for it when he found out.
"Is that the barn Jamie?" Claire turned and looked at Jamie.
"Aye, it should be the barn. We'll go outside and check on the animals in a moment. I want to go upstairs first" Jamie said and he held out his hand to her. "Come with me."
I instantly did as he asked and we climbed the stairs together, hand in hand. He knew where he was going so I just followed along a step behind him.
"You know they won't be the same, right?" Claire stated as they turned right at the top of the stairs when she, once again, found herself walking toward the back of the house. "The bedrooms will be completely different. The furniture is long gone." The window on the second floor was a match to the one directly below, on the first floor, except this on was half the size. There were portraits of Frasers adorning the walls. It was easy to tell they were family; she could see a piece of Jamie in each of them. Claire supposed it would be the same with their child; the strong viking features would dominate the child's basic physical structure, she was sure, and her hand unconsciously rubbed her belly. There was a wonderful picture of two mischievous boys, the taller had a hand on the shoulder of the smaller. Both with red hair. The taller lad had gray eyes and smaller lad had blue. Both with the same cat shaped to them. I stopped short right in front of the picture. The smaller lad was holding... Sawney. I turned to Jamie and looked at him.
"Aye, and my brathair Willie, painted about a year before he died." Jamie said as his eyes moved over the painting. "This one is of Jenny" and he motioned to the next painting. "They were done about the same time." I looked into the blue eyes of a brown haired beauty holding a bird. "My mam painted 'em" he said and swallowed hard. "Hard to believe they are still hang'n here after all this time. Right where my da hung them." His foot kicked at the floor in thought, maybe of a moment while he and Willie stood for the portrait.
"Jamie, they are really quite good." I said as I examined them for another moment. I stepped back beside him. "Hello William. Hello Janet. I'm Claire. I want you to know that I love your brother with all of my heart. I promise I will take care of him, Jenny. Please do not worry for him. He is my family now." Claire turned and placed a gentle kiss on his arm. "Lead on then Jamie."
"I am yours and you are mine Sassenach. We will take care of each other now." Jamie said with deep blue eyes looking directly into to Claire's whiskey ones. "Rest well Jenny. Dinna worry for me."
At the end of the hall there was a door on the left and on the right. Jamie selected the door on the right and opened the door. It was an enormous room, larger than most master bedrooms.
It was beautiful. Walls covered in wood paneling and heavy drapes covered the two windows in the room. One window faced the barn and the other faced the side of the house that looked out over the road we came in on. I had misspoken. The bed had to be original to the house. A huge canopy bed with posts that almost touched the ceiling. The bed must have been built in this very room. There was no getting it out that bedroom door. I could only hope the mattress was a little newer. The bedding could do with a good wash as well as the drapes. "Oh Jamie, there's a fireplace. How wonderful. I've never slept in a bedroom with a fireplace" and Claire walked over to look. It had an intricately carved mantelpiece of ivy and roses. She ran her hand over the detailing. You just don't see hand carving like this any more. Her hand came away covered in dust and dirt. "Did family do the carving on the mantle, Jamie?" When she received no response, Claire turned and saw Jamie kneeling at the end of the bed and reaching up and under it. He grunted and cursed as one arm was underneath the bed to his shoulder; the one he had dislocated when he had appeared in my kitchen that fateful night. He cursed again as he smashed his face against the bed foot board.
"Let me move the hope chest," Claire said to Jamie as she walked over, grabbed the leather handle and dragged it out of his way. The chest did not belong to the bed or the mens armoire; it was made from a totally different wood than the bed. From the craftsmanship, you could tell it was a much newer piece. She opened the lid and found it to be cedar lined and a quilt laying on top...
"Ahhh," Jamie groaned as he reached further underneath the bed. "I can not find it."
"Just what do you think you are going to find under there after all these years Jamie? Did you hide your most precious toy in the bed frame? Do you honestly expect it to be there after all theses years."
This is not my room Sassenach. 'Tis the Lairds room. Where my mam and da slept. I was never allowed in here as a lad. It was verra special occasion to be permitted entrance. Scolding were done in the Lairds study downstairs and I had plenty of them. Lashes were done outside, bent over the barn fence" Jamie said as he remembered. "I had my fair share of them as well, Sassenach. I am looking for something that belonged to my da. I coveted it as a young man. Could'na wait to get my hands on it.
"Do you want me to slip under the bed to see if I can find what you are..."
"I have it, I think" Jamie interrupted and he pulled away from the bed producing an extremely large sword. Not one of those thin ones like the The Three Musketeers dueled with. This was a broadsword, easily four feet long with a cruciform hilt and a wide, flat, double edged blade. It looked quite heavy however Jamie seemed to handle it with ease. He pulled it completely free of the bed, sat down with his back leaning against the bed's frame, and carefully cradled the sword in his arms. It was clear the sword had great sentimental value to him. His eyes wandered the sword from hilt to tip, flipping the sword over and over checking it from every side and every angle as if to reassure his memory that the weapon in his hands was truly his fathers. His memory validating what his eyes beheld. Once satisfied, Jamie spent several minutes just caressing it, running his fingers over the blade.
Does a sword's blade dulls if unused for 200 years Claire wondered to herself. Best not to ask Jamie. She'd know when he used it. If he used it. If he ever had to use it. She then decided that she hoped she'd never know. She sat down on the chest next to Jamie. "So this is the Laird's room and that is your father's sword. Does the sword have a name?
"A name?"
"Yes. All swords have names, don't they? King Arthur's was Excalibur though I don't know any other famous sword names. I know Thor's hammer was named Mjöllnir" and she smiled at Jamie.
Jamie smiled at Claire and shook his head. "No, Frasers are neither Kings nor Gods, Sassenach, but I appreciate ye thinking we are. My father's sword does'na have a name that I ken. Perhaps Murtagh would ken for sure. He will be pleased to hear it is still here."
Perhaps you should display it, on the wall in here over the fireplace. It is a fine piece. Do you know the history of it?"
"Aye. While my father built Lallybroch, my mother commissioned the local blacksmith to make it for her. She presented it to him the first night they slept in this house. The first night he was truly a Laird."
"Oh, well, you should called the sword Lairdmaker then" and Claire giggled.
Jamie snorted and stood. He placed the sword on the bed and came to stand in front of her. "Well, I think we should contact the local Church in Broch Mordha and have the bands read so we can be married, propper and he kissed her.
While the men checked on the barn and the animals, Claire made a feast for their first dinner at Lallybroch. Spaghetti and meatballs. She heated a loaf of french bread, making small cuts to add butter, grated garlic and parmesan cheese. She made a garden salad as well and, voila, dinner was prepared. She had splurged and purchased a nice bottle of wine that paired well with Italian food, according to the man that sold it to her in the shop. She had purchased an Apple pie for dessert and hand whipped cream for the top. She wiped down and set the table in what she assumed was the formal dining room, just off the kitchen and waited for the men to come in. She sipped a glass of wine while she waited, stirring the sauce occasionally.
It was dark when they came in from the cold; the temperature was dropping fast now that the sun had set. While Jamie and Claire had been upstairs, Murtagh and Frank had started fires in the living room, kitchen and a front bedroom that had two beds. Murtagh, according to Frank, knew exactly where to find the split logs and kindling, both neatly stacked on the side of the house by the kitchen door.
Claire found a sweater in a closet in the front hall and put it on. It did not fit her very well; she had to roll up the sleeves to find her fingers but it was wool and warm. She found an equally large sweater for Frank to wear. Jamie, it seemed, never got cold, running around the house in trousers, shirtsleeves and vest. Murtagh was obviously related to Jamie in the body temperature department although he kept his jacket on and he was wearing Jamie's other pair of trousers. Claire was going to need to supplement their wardrobe with work clothes.
Jamie and Murtagh were very animated about the farm animals. Apparently there were three horses, two were older, one was a young colt and not ridable; it had never been broken. There were a dozen Highland coos, long, red haired, shaggy beasts in a pen beside the barn. Before they would be able to let them out to pasture, Murtagh and he would have to ride the fence line and make repairs. There was a large sow, a handful of chickens and two goats. There was not nearly enough hay to get them through winter. First snow always came before Hogmanay as far as Jamie could remember. The house might have changed but he would bet the weather would not have.
"Could you speak with John tomorrow, Sassenach? See if he kens where I can get feed and hay for the winter. The pasture grass will hold them for another day or two but the first duty is to get the animals situated before the snows start. We will have a verra busy first few days, Murtagh. We'll need the horses to ride the fences. Best check the tack straight away tomorrow. I need paper and writing pen to begin a list, I think. There should be some in my father's study. I'll be right back." Jamie grabbed the candelabrum from the table and walked out of the room.
"Jamie" Claire shouted after him. "Remember the house has electricity. You don't need... " and she stopped. He had left the room and crossed the hall. She heard a door open. "Never mind. It doesn't matter..." The house had plumbing, heat and electricity, though Claire was unsure of any of it's age. She had shown Jamie and Murtagh the light switches in the hall, kitchen and dining room but had lit the candles and set them on the table for effect. It made the supper feel warm and inviting somehow. She needed to locate the bathrooms and make sure Murtagh knew how to work them, as well as the kitchen. Jamie had too much else on his mind. She needed to check the bed linen, make sure it was clean and find towels and washcloths for both of them as well.
She stood and started to clear the table. "Frank, make sure to start a list of things Jamie needs me to ask John. On the top of that list is to get someone out here to check the furnace; is it oil, coal, steam or electric? I would assume the water is from a well, but put that on the list to ask him also. I need to do the dishes and check the bedding upstairs before we go. I will be as quick as I can. I promise."
Frank looks up at her and clears his throat. "Look Claire, there is a ton of stuff for them to do before they can even possibly think about sleeping tonight. If Jamie and Murtagh are alright with it, I propose we stay the night. Four sets of hands are better than two. You need to be at work at 9 am and I need to be on the road by then. It took a little under an hour to get here. If we are up by 6, and on the road by 7, we should be back in Inverness in plenty of time."
Murtagh looked up from his 2nd plate of spaghetti and smiled. He placed a hand on Frank's shoulder and squeezed it. "You'll be sharing quarters with me then, I suppose" he said.
"You'd do that, Frank?" Jamie said from the door. "I would be verra grateful te have ye both here to help us settle."
Jamie looked to Claire, looked her directly in the eye and she saw the relief that seemed to settle on his face.
Seeing the look on Jamie's face made Claire smile. He was not ready to live without her either. Good she thought, and went to clean up the kitchen and boil water for tea.