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“How did ye get it into yer thick heid that it’d be a lovely time for a wee walk?”
“How have you not gotten it through your bloody thick heid that I was leaving?”
His hands instantly released their tight grip on my arms, and the fury in his eyes was replaced by with shock and pain. I immediately regretted what I’d said. I had been delaying deciding whether or not to tell him before I left, partially because I had no clue whatsoever how to tell him. Certainly not like this. But there it was, there was no going back now.
“Ye were running away?” He asked quietly. “Leaving me?”
I heard someone cough behind me, and I was reminded that we were not alone.
I lowered my voice to match his. “Could we talk about this more privately?”
He looked back at the other men, who were intently staring at the water, and then nodded and headed towards the cover of the forest.
We walked some ways, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, before Jamie stopped and turned back to face me. The emotions that had briefly been as clearly presented as mine were now hidden behind an inscrutable mask, but his pain and confusion were evident in his voice.
“Claire, if ye wished to live apart, ye could’ve just asked me. Ye must ken that I wouldna keep ye against yer will.”
“I know, Jamie, it isn’t that.”
“Why then? I ken ye were upset because of the redcoats, and I’m truly verra, verra sorry for having failed ye then, but surely ye ken ye couldna just walk back to England? Even if ye didna ken ye’d be recaptured, ye must’ve kent ye’d get lost, or hurt -”
I put my hand on his arm, abruptly stopping him. I felt absolutely wretched. Of course he would worry for my safety after I’d told him I had just up and left him without so much as a ‘goodbye’. I could only hope our parting would be easier from him after I told him the truth and he came to the inevitable conclusion that I was either a raving lunatic or a witch. I couldn’t think that his concern for me would be sustained after that.
“It’s not my country I was trying to return to, at least not directly. It was my time, my century. 1946”
He stared at me as though I’d begun speaking in tongues. I persevered.
“Jamie, I swore on our wedding night that I’d be honest, and I swear it again to you now. Do you trust me?”
He said nothing, but nodded slowly. I told him the whole story, from my second honeymoon with Frank to my impulsive flight to Craigh na Dun.
As I talked, he paced. Once again, I avoided looking at him. It was one thing to know what he must be thinking of me, but quite another to see it. We were both quiet for a moment after I finished my tale.
“I believe ye.”
I turned to look at him in disbelief. “You what?”
He walked over and took my hands in his.
“You told me ye would be honest with me, so I believe ye.”
For once, I had nothing to say. I had never considered that he might calmly accept my story at face value.
He smiled softly and squeezed my hands. “Wait here, Sassenach.”
This time, shocked into obedience, I did.
~*~
The men quickly stopped talking as Jamie emerged from the woods, alone.
He looked to Murtagh, who joined him a short distance from the group.
“Claire and I will part have to part with ye.” He said bluntly. “We’ll leave now.”
If Murtagh was surprised by this revelation, he did not show it.
“Where will ye go?” Murtragh asked evenly, sharp eyes studying Jamie’s face for a hint of his motivations.
“I’m taking her home.” Jamie answered, his face carefully devoid of emotion. He would not lie to his godfather, but neither could he tell him the truth. This was his choice to make, his burden to bear.
After a long moment, Murtagh nodded in approval. “Ye’ve been adrift for a good while, it’s about time ye returned to Lallybroch. And the lass will doubtless be happy to be in her own place.”
Jamie looked back towards the forest that obscured Claire and, more distantly, the faerie stones. “Aye. Doubtless she will.”