A/N: Extra credit to anyone who can name the quote I paraphrased from an earlier Sam Heughan movie.
….oOo….
Jamie was brushing his stallion, Donas, with a handful of hay when Dougal walked into the stables that morning. Each man greeted the other with a nod.
"Saddle Brimstone for Mistress Beauchamp," Dougal ordered, as if the Laird's nephew were a mere stable hand. "I am taking her to Cranesmuir with me this morning." Dougal proceeded to saddle his favorite dapple grey himself.
Jamie moved to do his uncle's bidding. Since it was for Claire, he didn't mind. He groused, however, at the extra tidbit of information. He could tell his uncle took an interest in Mistress Beauchamp and he didn't like it. That man didn't need yet another mistress, and to think of him with Claire… Jamie clenched his fists. His uncle had a commanding presence and a way of getting what he wanted. He didn't like that the man would be alone with Claire for some time today even if it was just on the road to Cranesmuir. Claire was strong willed but she was still only a woman. However, he knew his uncle had spoken the truth when he once said, 'I don't hold with rape.' Still, he wouldn't put it past the man to try to seduce or even coerce her - the thought of which made his stomach churn.
So it was with a look of steely eyed disdain that Jamie handed Brimstone off to Dougal. His uncle took the reins without so much as a glance or any sign of gratitude toward his nephew and led both horses out to the stable yard.
Jamie could see through the stable door that Claire had just then arrived. Dougal helped her mount the horse. Jamie's skin crawled whenever he saw anyone touch her. As he watched Dougal place his hands on her hips, he added a low growl to his already displeased reaction.
Changing his thoughts to a more positive vein, Jamie took in Claire. She looked quite fine in her brown dress with her dark curly hair pinned up on her head, a few tendrils falling down around her face, cheeks flushed with the chill of the morning air. However, Jamie noted that although her dress was woolen she wore only a fur cowl around her neck for extra warmth. Not a wise decision for a ride in the Highlands this time of year when the weather could be downright frigid at worst and merely fickle at best. If she were his, he would take care of her, keep her safe and warm. Being from Oxfordshire in the south of England she did not ken their Highlander ways.
He watched them ride off. She had a good seat and a confident command of the reins. Beautiful, intelligent, caring, strong, outspoken, stubborn, opinionated, fearless, a good healer, and now, as he could see, a fine horsewoman, were just some of the traits he admired about Claire.
As he resumed his chores around the stables he couldn't help his mind from wandering to the bonnie sassenach lassie who had absconded with his heart.
….oOo….
Later that afternoon Jamie entered the castle on his way to the kitchen to find something to eat.
Almost as soon as he set foot on the stone flags of the castle corridor he was accosted by Laoghaire MacKenzie. It had been very unwise for him to kiss her in the alcove the other day. He was trying to make Claire jealous and it seemed his plan had only backfired on him. Sure, Claire was visibly put off by the scene, but it didn't spur her into doing anything about it. Now, the young girl would not leave him be and he certainly did not want to get entangled with her. Nonetheless, she trailed after him whenever she saw him, trying to talk to him, to touch him, and get him to kiss her again.
One evening, on his way to his room, Jamie had spied Laoghaire from a distance standing outside the door to his chambers. She sprinkled something on the threshold and then stood there tapping her heels together and mumbling something under her breath. She scurried off in the opposite direction having never seen Jamie hiding in the shadows. Not really superstitious however, he purposefully stepped over whatever substance it was that she had sprinkled on the floor and made sure to ask the maid to sweep it up the next morning, it was a bit pungent after all.
No matter how often Laoghaire pestered him it was not his nature to be intentionally rude. He always managed to brush her off as politely as he could.
As he entered the kitchen that afternoon, with Laoghaire hot on his heels, he came upon Dougal having a discussion with Rupert and Angus. Jamie perked up immediately because the presence of Dougal, returned from Cranesmuir, meant that Claire was probably around somewhere too. He glanced around expecting he might see her but to no satisfaction. Turning his attention to the conversation between the three men he realized they were talking about Claire.
Rupert and Angus were sitting on the hearth, beer mugs in hand and a keg between them. Since they were relieved of their watch over Mistress Beauchamp for much of the day, they had taken to their favorite leisurely pursuit - drinking.
Dougal stood before them, arms crossed over his chest and a stern scowl on his face. Jamie had to smile to himself. His uncle's frosty demeanor surely meant that he had not gotten any… satisfaction, from either Claire or his mistress in Cranesmuir, whomever she may be.
Dougal's two subordinates were arguing over which one of them was to go and fetch Mistress Beauchamp from the village where Dougal had left her visiting Mistress Duncan at the Fiscal's house.
Angus didn't want to go because the last time he escorted her to Cranesmuir she forced him to take her to the Baxter's house so that she could visit the possessed boy, Tammas. He declared that he refused to be dragged hither and yon by her again, especially if evil spirits were to be involved.
Rupert complained that Mistress Beauchamp was always asking him questions. She would never hold her tongue like a good woman should. He didn't want to put up with it anymore.
During this discussion Jamie had been rooting around the kitchen looking for something to eat. Laoghaire kept following him around chattering in his ear. He paid no heed to anything she said.
When Jamie realized that he could make everyone happy with one simple suggestion – well, everyone but Laoghaire – he interrupted their debate with, "I can go get Mistress Beauchamp." They all stared at him in silence so he added, "I need to take Donas out for some exercise anyway." Never mind that he had already taken the animal out for a good gallop that morning, but they would never know that.
The three younger men looked at Dougal who threw up his arms and said, "Fine." As he walked off to attend to Colum's bidding, he said over his shoulder, "You should find her at the Fiscal's house."
Laoghaire, having gotten the hint for now, retreated to the other side of the kitchen. Rupert and Angus went back to their drink.
Jamie glanced down at his clothes and smelled under his arm. He decided that he did not want to go and collect Claire looking and smelling 'like a rat that's been dragged through sheep dung.' He went to his room to clean up.
….oOo….
A little while later Jamie emerged from the castle into the afternoon sunshine. Clear and sunny it may be, however, the wind was sharp and the air was cold. Remembering how lightly clad Claire had been when she left earlier, Jamie returned to the castle to find her cloak.
Stepping into the surgery, he glanced around looking for the garment.
'Rather dark and stuffy in here,' he thought to himself.
He tried to think of ways he could make her living space more pleasant. There was a fire and plenty of candles were available. What it really needed was more natural light but there was nothing he could do about that. This place was like a dungeon or a cell for a hermit. He would have to see if he could come up with some other way he might brighten her room. But right now he needed to be off to Cranesmuir.
He found the cloak and retrieved it from its hook. Holding it reverently in his hands he glanced around to be sure he was alone then he pressed it to his face and breathed in her scent. Now even more anxious to see her again, he draped the garment over his arm and strode out the door.
….oOo….
There was a knock at the sitting room door. "What is it?" Geillis called out exasperatedly. She had her suspicions about Claire Beauchamp and she wanted to hear her friend's story and maybe get some proof. Up to this point Claire had been rather stingy with her personal history. Now on the brink of describing her childhood, the pair were interrupted.
The door opened and Jeanie, the maid, entered, saying to the visitor, "In here."
Jamie stepped into the room looking dashing in his finest clothes, a grey woolen tam hung handsomely over his luscious red locks, and a cloak over his arm. "Mistress Duncan," he said to Geillis. Then catching sight of Claire at the window and remembering to take his hat off in respect, he said, somewhat nervously, "Mistress Beauchamp."
"Mr. Mactavish," Geillis greeted him flirtatiously. She had sensed that Claire liked Jamie and so maybe she could get the story out of her yet.
"Dougal was called back to Leoch," Jamie explained with a nod to Claire, "I'm sent to fetch ye. Brought you a cloak to keep you warm," he added with some nervous pride in his thoughtful gallantry.
Geillis rose from her chair and came forward to the table. "Mistress Beauchamp was just about to tell me of her unusual upbringing. I'm sure it's a good story," she turned away from her guests to pour a glass of wine.
Claire gave Jamie a pointed look and shook her head ever so slightly so as not to draw the attention of their hostess.
"Why don't you have a glass of port and listen in?" Geillis added as she held out the glass for him.
Jamie, catching Claire's hint and always willing to help her out without question, tore his eyes away from her and replied, "Móran taing (Thank you), I would, but we should leave, or we'll get naught but scraps for our dinner." His eyes snapped back to Claire, following her every move.
Before Geillis could say anything more Claire jumped in with, "Thank you for your hospitality, Geillis, and for these." She set down her glass and collected the herbs and things. She took the offered cloak from Jamie and turned to leave.
"We must do it again," insisted Geillis, frustrated that she had been foiled in her plans.
"Of course," replied Claire, somewhat reluctantly.
"Soon," Geillis added persistently. She would just have to try again.
The couple nodded to their hostess and took their leave.
In the vestibule, Jamie took Claire's medicine case while she donned her cloak. Suddenly struck by his thoughtfulness on her account she turned to thank him but he was already stepping out the door. She followed him out but before she could reach him her eyes were drawn to the pillory and she became aware once more of the boy nailed there.
…oOo….
Rupert and Angus were right. Mistress Beauchamp did ask tons of questions and expressed her opinions freely. She also made him take her hither and yon. However, Jamie was more than happy to oblige her. He loved the sound of her voice, especially her British accent.
When she had asked about his strong fingers he instantly knew what she was getting at. However, he couldn't help but think of all the various ways in which he could demonstrate for her the capabilities of his fingers.
He was happy to assist her in freeing the boy from the pillory, he too was no fan of these barbaric punishments. He was even more thrilled to help her up and wrap an arm around her after she had pretended to faint. He enjoyed having her in such close proximity. She seemed to fit perfectly against him. And the feel of her hand in his, or any time she had touched his skin sent a warm fission up his spine. Their little ruse to help the boy was thrilling and even fun. Her compassion for others was boundless and he admired her boldness of spirit.
When she challenged him to another derring do – a trip to the black kirk – there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to spend even more time alone with her.
He loved her curiosity and eager thirst for knowledge and he enjoyed her intelligent conversation. As for all the dragging hither and yon – that just meant that he got to spend more time in her effervescent presence. It might have been old Nick's 'very own kirkyard' but for Jamie… he was in heaven.