The Fiery Cross - Outlander 5 by Diana Gabaldon

Author:Diana Gabaldon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Orth Carolina - History - Colonial Period, Historical, Fantasy Fiction, North Carolina - History - Colonial Period, 1775-1783, North Carolina - History - Revolution, North Carolina, Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Ca. 1600-1775, Historical Fiction, General, Time Travel
ISBN: 9780440221661
Publisher: Dell
Published: 2001-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

“He’s what?” Josh goggled at him, openmouthed.

“He’s mine.” Jamie went to the railing and reached out a hand to scratch the ears of the big stallion, busily engaged in eating hay from his manger.

“Seas,” he murmured to the horse. “Ciamar a tha thu, a ghille mhoir?” I followed him, peering over his arm at the horse, who lifted his head for a moment, regarded us with a genial eye, snorted, tossed his veil-like mane out of his face, and went back to his breakfast with single -

minded intent.

“A lovely creature, is he no?” Jamie was admiring Lucas, a look of distant speculation in his eyes.

“Well, yes, he is, but—” My own admiration was substantially tinged with dismay. If Jamie had set out to avenge his own pride at the cost of Wylie’s, he’d done it in spades. Despite my irritation with Wylie, I couldn’t help a small pang at the thought of how he must be feeling at the loss of his magnificent Friesian.

“But what, Sassenach?”

“Well, just—” I fumbled awkwardly for words. I could scarcely say I felt sorry for Phillip Wylie, under the circumstances. “Just—well, what do you mean to do with him?” Even I could see that Lucas was totally unsuited to life on Fraser ’s Ridge. The thought of plowing or hauling with him seemed sacrilegious, and while I supposed Jamie could use him only for riding . . . I frowned dubiously, envisioning the boggy bottoms and rocky trails that would threaten those well -turned legs and splinter the glossy hooves; the hanging boughs and undergrowth that would tangle in mane and tail. Gideon the Man-eater was a thousand times better suited to such rough environs.

“Oh, I dinna mean to keep him,” Jamie assured me. He looked at the horse and sighed regretfully.

“Though I should dearly love to. But ye’re right; he wouldna do for the Ridge. No, I mean to sell him. ”

“Oh, good.” I was relieved to hear this. Wylie would undoubtedly buy Lucas back, no matter what the cost. I found that a comforting thought. And we could certainly use the money.

Joshua had gone out while we were talking. At this point, he reappeared in the doorway, a sack of grain on his shoulder. His previous sluggish air had disappeared, though; his eyes were still bloodshot, but he looked alert, and mildly alarmed.

“Mrs. Claire?” he said. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I met Teresa by the barn just now; she ’s says as how there’s summat gone amiss wi’ Betty. I thought ye’d maybe want to know.” 50

BLOOD IN THE ATTIC

THE ATTIC ROOM looked like the scene of a murder, and a brutal one, at that. Betty was struggling on the floor beside her overturned bed, knees drawn up and fists doubled into her abdomen, the muslin of her shift torn and saturated with blood. Fentiman was on the floor with her, dwarfed by her bulk but vainly grappling with her spasming body, nearly as smeared with gore as she was.

The sun was

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