Je Suis Prest – Claire's Heart
Claire closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax. She was glad to be back at Lallybroch and soaking in a hot bath after the long day. Macvey's dairy farm had opened her eyes to just how exhilarating life in a small farming community could be. Broch Mordha's tightly knit collective had selflessly come together to help one of their own. How hard everyone had worked together toward the common goal of building the calving shed; many had put their differences aside to aid an established, local family in need of help. The Macvey's were so appreciative; they could not stop thanking the folks that had come, in the spirit of helping another in need. Jamie had told Claire they were going to contribute to this project, to convey to the village that The Frasers were going to be a part of the town, long term investors. It quickly became obvious to her just who's idea this whole barn raising thing had really been - Jamie's, with maybe a dash of Murtagh. Virtual strangers to the village when she left them less than two weeks ago, both Jamie and Murtagh now had become fully integrated in Broch Mordha's community, to the point where Jamie was clearly responsible for the organization of the entire event. Well, perhaps not the food, but at least the building of the calving barn portion anyway. From what she could determine, Jamie had asked the entire village to help and almost all had shown up to do just that. Not all could stay the entire day – some came early and left after a few hours, others came later and left with the rest at the end of the day. Even those with a business to run or a family with small children found time to work a couple of hours, doing what they could. She watched as Jamie, not only directed the work but also physically labored shoulder to shoulder with the group, moving and shaping rocks, mixing the cement, hammering wood. She could not have been more proud of him. He was a natural leader, born to it Claire thought as she sank under the hot water. Jamie was Lallybroch's true Laird, whether the town knew it or not and he behaved like it. Once totally submerged, she lost herself in the quiet reflection of how well Jamie and Murtagh had acclimated themselves to their new lives. With only the sound of her thoughts and darkness as her companions, she wondered if this silent, dark wetness was what it must have been like in utero. Perhaps that was why she relished these, long, hot soaks.
A noise startled her from her solitude. Was that a knock? Claire surfaced and listened. Yes, there it was again, another soft tap at the door.
"Yes?" She called out.
"Sassenach. I'm sorry to disturb your soak."
She smiled to herself.
"I... 'um..."
"Is something wrong, Jamie? Is someone hurt?" She sighed and started to get up from the tub. Men. Can't leave them alone for too long. Someone always manages to thump the other in the head or some such nonsense. "Does John need me?" she thought to inquire.
"No. No, everyone is fine. It's just..."
Claire could hear Jamie stumble to find the right words. "It's alright Jamie, come in. Just know that I am in the bath..."
Jamie slowly opened the door and poked his head in. "Ye wouldn't mind if I came in to talk with ye for a minute, would ye? I have something on my mind and I can no seem to wait for yer to emerge from ye repose to discuss it with ye. I hate to disturb your privacy, ye get so little of it around here but..."
"Of course, Jamie. Come in, it's fine. It's not like you've never seen me naked, and if you remember, we have shared a bath before." She smiled at him.
He gave her a weak, half smile in return and focused on the wall above her head as he walked in and closed the door softly behind him.
Claire barely heard it latch she was so focused on Jamie's demeanor. Something was most definitely wrong. She had never known him not to meet her in the eye even the night before he and Murtagh tried to go back through the stones. He would not look at her now. Everything in the bathroom seemed to grab his attention but her.
The dodgy glances made her gut clench and her heart skip a beat. It couldn't be good, this talk he wanted to have. She knew he sometimes disapproved of an outfit she wore, but he had complimented her on her choice of a plaid wool skirt, pullover jumper and leather loafers, before they hand left Lallybroch. She had even worn stockings, something she usually reserved for work. Had she said or done something wrong at the Macveys? Slighted someone and not even been aware? She did not have that many conversations with the women that she could have said something rude and not known it, she didn't think. She really only had her brief conversations with Flora mostly. It was Flora that had been coy and verbally abusive to her. Even John knew that Flora had been out of line, he had come to her defense. It had not been her fault. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. What had she done? The Keirs. That had to be it. She had thought it had just been between she and Beval, Frasers and Keirs. But Fred had been involved. Maybe he had said something to his mother or father. But she had thought that leading the cows in from pasture would smoothed things over... that was why Jamie had her do it, as a favor to Seamus and the farm. Oh, she was lost now. She had no idea where Jamie was going with this. She just knew it would not end well. She was not up for another argument. They still had not discussed the Keirs and she had some things to tell Jamie about that. Things she had buried a long time ago. She owed Jamie the truth now. All of it as she knew it but she needed to talk to Lamb and Raymond first.
She looked up. Jamie was leaning against the closed door, hands behind his back and his foot half kicking the floor. "Out with it Jamie. Whatever it is that I've done. Just tell me. I will apologize to whomever I offended today. You know how much I wanted to try and fit in, to be a part of things today. I really wanted to help. To make you proud of me. I have failed, haven't I?" She had tried so hard with the ladies today . She knew almost immediately they were, for some odd reason, not happy with her. She didn't know what she had said or done to displease them. She had tried talking to them. When she asked them questions, most gave her monosyllabic replies. She tried to help in the kitchen, they said they didn't need her, that perhaps the group outside could use her. When she went outside to help set up tables and chair, she was told her services were not needed, to try the kitchen. She had not made a single friend, except maybe Jane Macvey, but Jane had said she would find Claire later in the day and never had. Claire sighed. No, today had not gone well.
Jamie stopped shuffling his foot and looked up at her. "Oh no. No, Sassenach. Ye did just fine today. I could'na help but notice ye did no spend a great deal of time with the ladies though. I think most of ye conversations were with the men, aye? But, that's no..., well it's part... sort'a..." and he looked at the floor as the fingers of his left hand tapped an unheard rhythm on his thigh.
"Jamie," Claire said softly, close to tears. Whatever he had to tell her, he clearly did not want to. "I should get out of the tub for this, shouldn't I? Why don't you go back to the bedroom and I'll be there in a moment. I suppose I should be dressed to hear whatever it is you have to tell me."
Jamie looked up again. Surprised by her words. "No, stay where ye are. I don't think this will take verra long. Ye may want the privacy yer soak will provide ye when I'm done say'n what needs to be said."
Well, if she wasn't nervous before, she certainly was now. She could really use a whiskey, in all honesty. A nice stiff drink to calm her nerves. "Jamie, look, you are making me nervous. Just say whatever it is you need to say." Claire pleaded as she sat up in the bath. No longer reposed and relaxed, her heart beat started to gain speed with each breath. "Sit down, please. Whatever it is, you can tell me. Just say it straight out. Don't worry about my feelings."
As if reading her mind, a glass materialized from behind Jamie's back, accompanied by an open bottle of whiskey. Jamie filled the tumbler half full, took a sip and handed the glass to Claire. "Of course I am worrit about ye feelings. How could I no care if ye are sad or unhappy? Would ye tell me if ye were, Sassenach?"
She took it from his hand and closed her eyes to stop the tears she could feel forming. "Oh, I think you have always known whatever I am feeling, happy or sad. My glass face, as you call it, will always keep me honest with you." When she opened them, Jamie was looking at her, the same sadness written on his face as well. At least he was not trying to hide how he felt. Claire took a sip of the libation and looked down at the water, moving her finger on the surface, watching the rippling motion it created while she tried to collect her thoughts. Jamie was never at a loss for words. He always knew the right thing to say to her. Whatever he had to talk to her about weighed heavily on his heart. She did not think he wanted to have this conversation but felt he must. She would have to be brave and hear whatever it was he needed to say.
She looked up and found Jamie watching her. She sucked in a breath and said "Jamie, remember that night in the inn when you were so upset? I made you take a bath and I sat down, with my back to the tub, and we just talked. We can do that now, if you'd like. We'll have just switched places. Would that be alright? Would that make it easier for you?"
Jamie nodded.
"Come sit down then. Sit with your back to me, if that will make this easier for you."
Jamie sat on the floor, as far away from Claire as he could get – the opposite end of the tub, leaning his back against the edge, facing the sink. This was going to be hard enough, he didn't think he would be able to produce coherent speech if he looked at her or she touched him. He needed a drink, liquid courage, for what he had to do. Rather than ask Claire for the glass, he drank directly from the bottle. After he took a second swallow, he cleared his throat. Best get this done. Ask her and know the truth of it then. "Sassenach," he started, but choked on the word. It was his name for her, a term of endearment. It also spoke volumes. Stranger. Outsider. Perhaps the community had misunderstood the affection he had for her, when he called Claire that. He raised his knees and rested his forearms on them and turned the bottle over in his hands. Johnnie Walker. He had never heard of the distillery. Kilmarnock. He had no idea where that was.
Jamie shifted as he settled on the floor.
Claire silently prayed this conversation would not end with Jamie sending her back to Inverness. "Please Jamie. Just say what you have to say. We always promised each other truth. From that first night..."
He cleared his throat again. "Claire." That tasted wrong when he said it, because she was more than just that name to him but he had managed to utter it with a bit of strength and conviction so he forged ahead. "Am I enough for you?" His voice starting out strong with Am but ending in barely a whisper on you. He had not heard his voice crack like that since he was a lad. "Tis a sign yer grow'n up" his da had told him. Still true, he supposed.
He heard not a sound. Not even Claire's breathing. God knows he had stopped breathing in anticipation of her reply. He turned to look at her. He was surprised by the shock on her face.
"What?" Claire managed to stutter out.
Jamie blinked and looked away again. Back to the bottle that he rotated between his hands. "I won't ever be verra important nor have much te give. I won't ever be the Laird I was meant to be or be able te offer you grand things, Claire. I'll never be more than a farmer here, eking out a live'n." He lifted his head and looked directly at her for the first time since he entered the room. "Life on a farm is hard work, Sassenach. There is always work fer ye te do than there are hours of light. You go te bed, dirty, exhausted and sometimes hungry." He paused for a breath. "And ye get up the next morn'n, ready and will'n te do it all again, ye ken? That is the life I ken. That is the life I offer ye. Is that the life that ye want?"
Claire just stared. Did not even blink. She had been huddled in a ball when Jamie started to talk. The tumbler of whiskey perched on her knee. She was too afraid to take a drink. She needed a clear head to listen to Jamie tell her he was sending her back to Inverness. That she did not fit into the community, his lifestyle. That he did not want her. But what he was really trying to say, or rather ask, was – would she be willing to live the life he was offering her? He was giving her chance to back out of the only way of life he knew. If he wasn't so serious, she'd almost laugh.
"I won't ever be able to give ye the life ye deserve. Ye have such a grand flat in Inverness. And friends and work ye enjoy. Lallybroch is no even mine and today was proof enough that the ladies will no be verra friendly te ye. Ye might be friendless and alone, except for yer Wee Clan Fraser." He had to look up at ceiling. He couldn't look at her... Her face was so soft, like she was about to cry. No hard and mad, fight'n for an argument, like he expected from her. Like when he told her she could'na come through the stones with him. He wanted so badly to just grab her right now and hold her in his arms and tell her she was his, all he ever wanted. He would'na let her go, the stones had sent him here to find her. His true mate. But he owed her this choice. This one time he would be brave and strong, to let her decided her own fate. And he prayed he'd be strong enough to let her go when she chose her life in Inverness over him.
Claire did not say a word. Did not interrupt. She wanted to yell at him, for being so silly. To think that she would ever choose anything other than a life with him and the happiness he offered her. She took a sip of the dram. And waited for Jamie to stop talking. She had a few things to say to him.
"Ye are so bonnie and educated and funny... Could ye ever be happy with the simple life of the farm that I offer te ye?"
She set the glass of scotch on the seat lid of the loo and laid the length of her arm down on the edge of the tub, her fingers stretching toward him. Her face full of the love and compassion her heart held for this man.
"This is no a big city, just a small farming village, Claire. There won't be any fancy dinners to take ye to. We won't be able to travel 'for we can'na leave the farm unattended nor will there ever be enough money te ever go." Jamie looked down and saw Claire's hand extended toward him. He looked at her, closed his eyes and quietly whispered "Praise God, Sassenach, 'for ye glass face." He opened his eyes and laid his hand on the tub, inching his fingers toward hers. And when his fingertips touched hers, their hands raised, '...palm to palm as holy palmers kiss...'
Their fingers found each other and laced as Claire scooted down to the middle of the tub and said "James Fraser, you are my home, do you not realize that? Where ever you are is where I will always want to be. No cackling geese or clucking hens will chase me away from you. As long as you want me, I will be right by your side, my Laird Broch Tuarach."
Jamie smiled with both his eyes and his heart. "Truly Sassenach?"
"Truly Jamie. I was adamant about following you through the stones, wasn't I? Knowing that the 18th century Lallybroch would be nothing like this one," she said. "I have never lived a life of luxury. Never desired things. I knew Jamie, just knew you were the one I had waited my entire life for. When you looked up at me, dripping wet in my kitchen, and those beautiful blue eyes locked on mine staring right into my soul." She lifted her hand, extending it's index finger to run down Jamie's strong jaw. "You took my heart away, right then and there, in that kitchen. I was absolutely and completely yours and you had not uttered a single word. I lost control of my body, do you remember? I had to grab the table to keep my knees from collapsing and sending me to the floor in a melted heap at your feet. When I had not even begun to recover, you stood up. Your heavenly scent of wool and horses, rain and heather mixed with testosterone hitting my orafactors at the same time as the ocular splendor that is you, dazzled my senses completely. I think I fainted, if only for a moment and, when I came to, I was in your arms and all I wanted was your lips on mine, Jamie. For you to possess me, take me on that ride of euphoria that no one else has ever come close to making me feel. I could not decide where I wanted you to touch me first, my whole body was on fire, needing the feel of your hands on me, lips caressing me. Did you know that, Jamie? Could you feel my desire?"
Jamie nodded, unable to speak. His hand reached up and started to touch her but before he could Claire continued...
"The funny thing is, it still happens to me, every time you walk into a room. I will never want anyone else the way I want you. Never think for one moment that anything could replace a life with you. I choose you James Fraser, you are all I will ever want or need. My whole life has been a series of steps, leading me to you."
"Mo Neighan Donn, may I kiss ye?" his voice asked with a quiver.
When their lips met, it was the softest, sweetest, most loving thing she had ever experienced.
When the kiss ended, Claire said "Get in the bath with me. There is something I must do."
She did not have to suggest it twice. Jamie could not get out of his clothes fast enough.
When he stepped into the tub, she had him sit with his back to her and she kissed the back of his neck. She took her rinsing bowl and poured the warm water over him and with her washcloth and soap, began to wash him. Around the back of his neck and ears. Across the long slope of his shoulders and down his back, carefully cleaning the scares. Then under the water to clean his waist and buttocks. She took her bowl and poured water on him until the soap was washed away and left his skin a pale pink. She stood, with her rag, soap and bowl and eased passed him in the tub until she stood in front of him.
Jamie reached up and placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, holding her in place and gently kissed her legs. He heard a sigh of contentment pass her lips and he thought his heart would burst.
Claire ran the fingers of her hand though his hair as his lips caressed her body. Finally she found the words... "Let me finish first, Jamie. Please." Her face soft with the love she felt for this man sitting before her.
He stopped and allowed her to sit again, and while she washed the front of his neck, shoulders, arms and chest, she told him of tribe of people she had once lived among, where it was considered a great honor to be allowed to wash their king.
He laughed. "I am no a king, Sassenach." and smiled what Claire called his 'wicked' half smile.
To which Claire responded, "You are my king, my love" and began to wash the parts of Jamie that that where submerged, with gentleness and special care given to cleaning certain parts of his anatomy.
"I could get used to this, Mo Neighan Donn."
Claire responded by wetting and washing his hair. "I did not know one man could have this much dirt stuck to his body" she said as she looked down at the brown water they were now both waist deep in. When she rinsed his hair, straw was added, floating on the water's surface. Claire turned, pulled the plug and allowed the water to drain, then began to fill the tub up with clean, hot water.
Jamie picked up the soap and lathered his hands. He allowed his soapy palms to glide over her back then began to massage her neck and shoulders, to remove the tense muscles he found there. Jamie immediately felt Claire's body begin to relax in appreciation and she moaned softly.
He rinsed her with the water from the tub by cupping his hands and when she turned the water from the tap off, he put an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. Jamie leaned back against the end of the tub and Claire rolled onto her side, her face against his sternum. She softly stroked the hairs on the skin covering his pectoral muscle. "You are not too little, nor too much Jamie. You are just enough for me." and she placed a kiss on his chest.
Jamie hugged Claire tightly to his chest and sniffed the lavender scent of her hair, knowing that was the smell of home to him now. He rested his chin on top of her head, closed his eyes and sighed.
Claire came down stairs first, wanting to make a cup of tea before bed. Maybe she could make some sort of snack as well, since she had elected to skip supper and soak in the tub instead. The men had said they were not hungry either. There had been plenty to eat at the Macvey's.
"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" She yelled when she opened the door to the kitchen. The room was a disaster. There was flour everywhere, almost like a light dusting of snow. She could even track foot prints across the floor. She grabbed hold of a nearby chair for support as she took it all in. It looked as if every pot, pan and plate was now dirty. They were covering every flat surface in the kitchen, including the chair she was leaning on. As Claire walked further into the kitchen, she passed what she could only assume was the table. So littered with dirty dishes, food stuff and flour snow that she'd hardly recognized it. She peeked into one of the larger mixing bowls that sat in the chair she was leaning on and exclaimed "What now? The mixing bowls now double as bowls used for eating?" She was tried to decide what was in it. Porridge she finally decided, after dipping her finger in and tasting it. It looked more like wall paste.
Jamie thundered into the kitchen, swinging open the door with slam, Frank hiding behind him.
Claire turned, her mouth agape, and waved her hands in all directions. "Just what the bloody hell happened, while I was having a soak? You all said you were not hungry when I went upstairs. How long could that have been? A half hour? An hour at the most! You can not tell me you could make this much of a mess in so short an amount of time." And she glared at them both. "I don't think a dozen rambunctious boys could level a room with the proficiency four grown men have managed."
"I made porridge. Everyone ate it." Jamie confessed. " 'Twas Frank that made the mess. He said he could make those biscuits you concocted with the chicken for yesterday's lunch. 'Tis why there is flour all over the table and counter."
"I only offered to make the biscuits after Murtagh failed so miserably to produce one edible banicks" Frank countered defensively.
"Bannocks" Jamie interjected.
"Yes fine, bannocks. That disaster is still sitting over there on that baking sheet." Frank wheeled and pointed to the counter by the oven. "You could break a tooth on one. They are not fit for human consumption, hard as bloody rocks. So yes, alright then, Claire. I made biscuits, though admittedly not as good as yours."
"Yers we could take to Macveys tomorrow and use as small stones for the barn," Jamie mumbled under his breath.
"Clearly Claire, I might be responsible for some of is mess" Frank interjected as he glared at Jamie through angry, squinty eyes. "But not all of it."
Claire had reached the stove and turned the lit burner off. She looked down into the kitchen pot to see what she would guess was the last of Jamie's porridge. Burnt and Black. The pot was going to be a nightmare to clean. There was a frying pan with two pieces of ham still in it, an open bottle of milk on the counter and the bowl of eggs was sitting on top of what was left of a loaf of bread. Every cooking utensil and knife looked to have be used and lay dirty, scattered through out the kitchen.
"Where are the other two rapscallions?" Claire demanded as she turned to face Jamie and Frank. "Hiding, I suppose?"
"No" Frank said. "Murtagh and John said they needed to run a errand and left in the truck after Jamie went upstairs to have his little talk with you. We had completed our discussion about you... while.. we.. ate..."
Jamie wanted to grab Randall by the throat and shake him for that. The man could'na keep his mouth shut around Claire. Always whining to her about one thing or another. The man had no backbone when it came to his Sassenach.
"Discussion? About me?" Claire spoke slowly, as her eyes shifted to Jamie. "What about me, Frank?" she inquired, turning her focus back to Frank.
"Um, well, Jamie just wanted to... thought that... asked us..."
"Whether you thought I was cut out for life on a farm, Frank?" Her eyes boring into him. "And what was your opinion on the subject, Frank? For or against?" Claire's finger started to tap on the counter she was leaning against.
Frank shifted his eyes from Claire to Jamie and back again. "Well, I had thoughts for and against your staying here..."
"And how did that go? The for- what were your pro's then Frank? I would like to know what you find positive about my staying here at Lallybroch with Jamie." Claire straighten her shoulders. She was resolve in her determination to make all of them understand she was not going anywhere. Jamie, and Lallybroch, were now her home. She would allow no argument to go unrebutted.
Jamie wisely stepped away from Randall and yet still shrewd enough to still give Claire her distance. He had an idea that when Claire finished with Randall, and if Murtagh and John were not back, that he would be the next she focused her anger on. Somehow, without trying, he managed to find his way back into her displeasure. He thought maybe to attempt to soften that anger by cleaning some of the mess while Claire and Frank had their row but Claire was leaning against the sink, so he sat in a chair by the fire and attempted to be innocuous, watching quietly.
"Well, Claire as you know...
"No Frank. Quite honestly I don't know. So why don't you start by telling me what I should know."
"Well, Claire. The pros for Jamie are that, I believe, you to be madly infatuated with him..."
"Infatuated? Seriously? Like a school girl crush, is what you think?"
"Yes, umm, no I mean. Well, yes Claire, if I am to be completely candid. I think this is a bit of an infatuation. How can you possibly have fallen in love with a man you barely know?"
"And this is your pro argument, Frank? That I can not possibly love Jamie so I should remain at Lallybroch with Jamie! Pray tell what is your argument against my staying then?" and she folded her arms across her chest and waited for his reply.
Jamie, careful to keep his face stoic, watched with pure joy, as his Sassenach proceeded to ripped Randall apart, limb from limb.
"Now Claire..."
"Don't you Dare 'Now Claire' me like we are married. How dare you Frank. Please, let me hear just one of your reasons why I should no longer be with Jamie. Just one, Frank."
"Because I love you Claire." He stated clearly and with no hesitation. Words he should have spoken out loud for years and never had, because deep down in the pit of his stomach, he knew she did not return that love. He had never forced his point because he never wanted her to utter the rejection that he was always sure would follow. Claire and he had not one tenth of the connection she and the Highlander had with each other; clearly obvious to all that first night. Jamie would lay down his life for her. Frank had seen that in his face the moment he drew his sword to protect her that first night in her flat. He had seen it in his face again today, when Jamie handed him the boy and dog and turned and ran. Frank could never do that. He loved her but would never defend her to his death. Jamie would, without hesitation. He also realized that Jamie accepted Claire for who she was, as an equal, flaws and all. He didn't. He was constantly trying to manipulate and change her into his idea of what a wife should be. Did that mean he did not love her? No, only that he love her enough or the way Claire needed to be loved. Jamie did, without question.
Jamie had his back to them, bent over stoking the fire when Frank made his declaration. He immediately stood and turned, waiting to see what the pronouncement would produce.
Claire took a deep breath. She had not expected a confession of such magnitude. She had known, almost forever, how Frank felt about her, how could she not. But she had managed to keep him from ever declaring it; from bringing it out into the light and having to deal with it. She did not love him, never had. She never returned even a portion of the feelings she knew he felt for her. She sighed and took a step toward Frank, but the spark of hope that lit in his eyes, when she moved toward him, made her turn and walk to Jamie. Frank needed to see, that even his announcement did not dissuade her feeling toward Jamie, in the least.
Jamie had watched quietly. First Claire, to watch her glass face confirm what he already knew. She felt nothing but a friendship toward the man. Never anything more. Then to Frank, with maybe a wee bit of pity for the man. The look on Frank's face as Claire had moved toward him, perhaps to comfort him. The hope that had instantly appeared in Randall's eyes as she took that first step toward him, that saddened into realization when Claire came to him instead.
Claire was truly extraordinary. Every man that spent any time in her company, fell in love with her, they could no help themselves. She had a way about her, a presence. She drew men in like moths to a flame. Daft as the idea was, she did'na even ken she did it. Claire was no aware of the effect she had on them. But by the Grace of God, her heart belonged to him. He would never forget that, never take it for granted.
He stood up and with Claire's hand in his, he walked to Frank. Jamie watched fear pulse in Frank's eyes as he carefully tracked their approach. Randall's eyes then shifted toward the two doors as he calculated the possibility of a successful escape, unscathed. By the time the mathematics had been done, Jamie was standing in front of the man. He placed a hand on Randall's shoulder and felt the shudder coarse through the wee coward. He had tried to like Randall and where he did esteem Frank, much like he did his Uncle Colum, he did no trust him, much like he did'na his Uncle Dougal. Even now, with his confession out in the open, he did'na trust Frank not to try and play his hand again. Frank Randall was no an honorable man, Jamie decided and he best remember that.
"Frank," Jamie began with a tone of authority. "I respect ye for the truth ye just laid at my lady's feet. To do so in my presence, is admirable. You ken the truth now, what is in her heart and I ask ye to honor that. I do no wish to have this conversation betwixt us again. Are my wishes understood?"
Frank swallowed hard and nodded.
"Then we shall 'let bygones be bygones' and no speak of it again, aye" and Jamie extended his hand in friendship.
Frank took it and they shook.
"Good." Jamie said. "Now I think this understanding we have reached needs a toast, no? I think there is whiskey in the parlor. We can wait there for Murtagh and John to return, then we have a kitchen to set to rights or, I fear, there will be no breakfast for us tomorrow."
"Damn right" Claire responded and allowed Jamie to lead her to the parlor.