Frasers 2 - Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon

Author:Diana Gabaldon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780440335184
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2010-03-31T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

I closed the door of our inn room behind me and leaned against it, exhausted. It was first dark outside, and the watchmen’s cries echoed down the street.

Jamie was by the window, watching for me. He came to me at once, pulling me tight against him before I had even got my cloak off. I sagged against him, grateful for his warmth and solid strength. He scooped me up with an arm beneath my knees and carried me to the window seat.

“Have a bit of a drink, Sassenach,” he urged. “Ye look all in, and no wonder.” He took the flask from the table and mixed something that appeared to be brandy and water without the water.

I shoved a hand tiredly through my hair. It had been just after breakfast when we went to the room in Ladywalk Wynd; now it was past six o’clock. It seemed as though I had been gone for days.

“It wasn’t long, poor chap. It was as though he was only waiting to see her safely taken care of. I sent word to her aunt’s house; the aunt and two cousins came to fetch her. They’ll take care of…him.” I sipped gratefully at the brandy. It burned my throat and the fumes rose inside my head like fog on the moors, but I didn’t care.

“Well,” I said, attempting a smile, “at least we know Frank is safe, after all.”

Jamie glowered down at me, ruddy brows nearly touching each other.

“Damn Frank!” he said ferociously. “Damn all Randalls! Damn Jack Randall, and damn Mary Hawkins Randall, and damn Alex Randall—er, God rest his soul, I mean,” he amended hastily, crossing himself.

“I thought you didn’t begrudge—” I started. He glared at me.

“I lied.”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me slightly, holding me at arm’s length.

“And damn you, too, Claire Randall Fraser, while I’m at it!” he said. “Damn right I begrudge! I grudge every memory of yours that doesna hold me, and every tear ye’ve shed for another, and every second you’ve spent in another man’s bed! Damn you!” He knocked the brandy glass from my hand—accidentally, I think—pulled me to him and kissed me hard.

He drew back enough to shake me again.

“You’re mine, damn ye, Claire Fraser! Mine, and I wilna share ye, with a man or a memory, or anything whatever, so long as we both shall live. You’ll no mention the man’s name to me again. D’ye hear?” He kissed me fiercely to emphasize the point. “Did ye hear me?” he asked, breaking off.

“Yes,” I said, with some difficulty. “If you’d…stop…shaking me, I might…answer you.”

Rather sheepishly, he released his grip on my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. It’s only…God, why did ye…well, aye, I see why…but did you have to—” I interrupted this incoherent sputtering by putting my hand behind his head and drawing him down to me.

“Yes,” I said firmly, releasing him. “I had to. But it’s over now.” I loosened the ties of my cloak and let it fall back off my shoulders to the floor.

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