Jamie Fraser Quotes

Don't be afraid. There's the two of us now.

When the day shall come that we do part," he said softly, and turned to look at me, "if my last words are not 'I love you'-ye'll ken it was because I didna have time.

You are my courage, as I am your conscience," he whispered. "You are my heart---and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?

You are safe," he said firmly. "You have my name and my family, my clan, and if necessary, the protection of my body as well. The man willna lay hands on ye again, while I live.

Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.

I had one last try. "Does it bother you that I'm not a virgin?" He hesitated a moment before answering. "Well, no," he said slowly, "so long as it doesna bother you that I am." He grinned at my drop-jawed expression, and backed toward the door. "Reckon one of us should know what they're doing," he said. The door closed softly behind him; clearly the courtship was over.

When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself 'Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weights as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.

I swore an oath before the altar of God to protect this woman. And if you're tellin' me that ye consider your own authority to be greater than that of the Almighty, then I must inform ye that I'm not of that opinion, myself.

That's what marriage is good for; it makes a sacrament out of things ye'd otherwise have to confess. Jamie Fraser

Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul

To see the years touch ye gives me joy", he whispered, "for it means that ye live.

Because I wanted you." He turned from the window to face me. "More than I ever wanted anything in my life," he added softly. I continued staring at him, dumbstruck. Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn't this. Seeing my openmouthed expression, he continued lightly. "When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, 'Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman'" I started toward him, and he backed away, talking rapidly. "I said to myself, 'She's mended ye twice in as many hours, me lad; life amongst the MacKenzies being what it is, it might be as well to wed a woman as can stanch a wound and set broken bones.' And I said to myself, 'Jamie, lad, if her touch feels so bonny on your collarbone, imagine what it might feel like lower down...'" He dodged around a chair. "Of course, I thought it might ha' just been the effects of spending four months in a monastery, without benefit of female companionship, but then that ride through the dark together"--he paused to sigh theatrically, neatly evading my grab at his sleeve--"with that lovely broad arse wedged between my thighs"--he ducked a blow aimed at his left ear and sidestepped, getting a low table between us--"and that rock-solid head thumping me in the chest"--a small metal ornament bounced off his own head and went clanging to the floor--"I said to myself..." He was laughing so hard at this point that he had to gasp for breath between phrases. "Jamie...I said...for all she's a Sassenach bitch...with a tongue like an adder's ...with a bum like that...what does it matter if she's a f-face like a sh-sh-eep?" I tripped him neatly and landed on his stomach with both knees as he hit the floor with a crash that shook the house. "You mean to tell me that you married me out of love?" I demanded. He raised his eyebrows, struggling to draw in breath. "Have I not...just been...saying so?

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!

When the day shall come, that we do part," he said softly, and turned to look at me, "if my last words are not 'I love you'—ye'll ken it was because I didna have time.

For so many years, for so long, I have been so many things, so many different men. But here," he said, so softly I could barely hear him, "here in the dark, with you… I have no name.

My father liked me, when I wasna being an idiot. And he loved me, too -- enough to beat the daylights out of me when I was being an idiot. Jamie Fraser

Could I but lay my head in your lap, lass. Feel your hand on me, and sleep wi' the scent of you in my bed. Christ, Sassenach. I need ye.

You'll lie wi' me now," he said quietly. "And I shall use ye as I must. And if you'll have your revenge for it, then take it and welcome, for my soul is yours, in all the black corners of it.

I want to hold you like a kitten in my shirt, and still I want to spread your thighs and plow ye like a rotting bull. I dinna understand myself.

Aye, well, he'll be wed a long time," he said callously. "Do him no harm to keep his breeches on for one night. And they do say that abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?" "Absence," I said, dodging the spoon for a moment. "AND fonder. If anything's growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn't be his heart.

I'll scream!" "Likely. If not before, certainly during. I expect they'll hear ye at the next farm; you've got good lungs.

Do you really think we'll ever--" "I do," he said with certainty, not letting me finish. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "I know it, Sassenach, and so do you. You were meant to be a mother, and I surely dinna intend to let anyone else father your children.

Harmless as a setting dove," he agreed. "I'm too hungry to be a threat to anything but breakfast. Let a stray bannock come within reach, though, and I'll no answer for the consequences.

I'll tell ye, Sassenach; if ever I feel the need to change my manner of employment, I dinna think I'll take up attacking women - it's a bloody hard way to make a living.

But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

Lord that she might be safe. She and my children.

And you, my Sassenach? What were you born for? To be lady of a manor, or to sleep in the fields like a gypsy? To be a healer, or a don's wife, or an outlaw's lady?" "I was born for you," I said simply, and held out my arms to him.

He turned his head to look full at me, his hair fire-struck with the setting sun, face dark in silhouette. "Twenty-four years ago today, I married ye, Sassenach," he said softly. "I hope ye willna have cause yet to regret it." -Jamie Fraser

I always wake when you do, Sassenach; I sleep ill without ye by my side.

Ye always carry your women wi ye into battle, Ian Og. They're the root of your strength, man.

(...) When I asked my Da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, 'Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman

I wouldna cross the road to see a scrawny woman if she was stark naked and dripping wet. ~Jamie Fraser

Jamie," I said, "how, exactly, do you decide whether you're drunk?" Aroused by my voice, he swayed alarmingly to one side, but caught himself on the edge of the mantelpiece. His eyes drifted around the room, then fixed on my face. For an instant, they blazed clear and pellucid with intelligence. "och, easy, Sassenach, If ye can stand up, you're not drunk." He let go of the mantelpiece, took a step toward me, and crumpled slowly onto the hearth, eyes blank, and a wide, sweet smile on his dreaming face.

I didn't say you shouldn't worry, do you think I don't worry? But no, you probably can't do anything about me.' 'Well, maybe no, Sassenach, and maybe so. But I've lived a long enough time now to think it maybe doesna matter so much-- so long as I can love you.' -Claire & Jamie Fraser

So remember it, lad. If your head thinks up mischief, your backside's going to pay for it. Brian Fraser to young Jamie

Jaime, you must be half-dead" He laughed tiredly, holding me close with one large warm hand on the small of my back. "A lot more than half, Sassenach. I'm knackered, and my cock's the only thing too stupid to know it. I canna lie wi' ye without wanting you, but wanting's all I'm like to do.

Look back, hold a torch to light the recesses of the dark. Listen to the footsteps that echo behind, when you walk alone. All the time the ghosts flit past and through us, hiding in the future. We look in the mirror and see the shades of other faces looking back through the years; we see the shape of memory, standing solid in an empty doorway. By blood and by choice, we make our ghosts; we haunt ourselves. Each ghost comes unbidden from the misty grounds of dream and silence. Our rational minds say, "No, it isn't." But another part, an older part, echoes always softly in the dark, "Yes, but it could be.

My own eyes went to Jamie, who had come to join Fergus and Ian by the sideboard. Still here, thank God. Tall and graceful, the soft light making shadows in the folds of his shirt as he moved, a fugitive gleam from the long straight bridge of his nose, the auburn wave of his hair. Still mine. Thank God.

For a long time," he said at last, "when I was small, I pretended to myself that I was the bastard of some great man. All orphans do this, I think," he added dispassionately."It makes life easier to bear, to pretend that it will not always be as it is, that someone will come and restore you to your rightful place in the world." He shrugged. "Then I grew older, and knew that this was not true. No one would come to rescue me. But then-" he turned his head and gave Jamie a smile of surpassing sweetness. "Then I grew older still, and discovered that after all, it was true. I am the son of a great man." The hook touched Jamie's hand, hard and capable. "I wish for nothing more.

Jem made the little Scottish noise again, and Brianna looked sideways at him. "Are you doing that on purpose?" He looked up at her, surprised. "Doing what?" "Never mind. When you are fifteen, I'm locking you in the cellar." "What? Why?" he demanded indignantly. "Because that's when your father and grandfather started getting into real trouble, and evidently you're going to be just like them.

Dije: «Señor, si alguna vez en mi vida he tenido valor, dámelo ahora. Permíteme ser lo bastante valiente para no caer de rodillas y rogarle que se quede». –Jamie Fraser.

When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir--you said then that you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me, had it come to that!" He grasped my hands, fixing me with a steady blue gaze. "Aye, I would," he said. "But I wasna carrying your child." The wind had frozen me; it was the cold that made me shake, I told myself. The cold that took my breath away. "You can't tell," I said, at last. "It's much too soon to be sure." He snorted briefly, and a tiny flicker of amusement lit his eyes. "And me a farmer, too! Sassenach, ye havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first took me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days." "You bastard!" I said, outraged. "You counted! In the middle of a bloody war, you counted!" "Didn't you?" "No!" I hadn't; I had been much too afraid to acknowledge the possibility of the thing I had hoped and prayed for so long, come now so horribly too late. "Besides," I went on, trying still to deny the possibility, "that doesn't mean anything. Starvation could cause that; it often does." He lifted one brow, and cupped a broad hand gently beneath my breast. "Aye, you're thin enough; but scrawny as ye are, your breasts are full--and the nipples of them gone the color of Champagne grapes. You forget," he said, "I've seen ye so before. I have no doubt--and neither have you." I tried to fight down the waves of nausea--so easily attributable to fright and starvation--but I felt the small heaviness, suddenly burning in my womb. I bit my lip hard, but the sickness washed over me. Jamie let go of my hands, and stood before me, hands at his sides, stark in silhouette against the fading sky. "Claire," he said quietly. "Tomorrow I will die. This child...is all that will be left of me--ever. I ask ye, Claire--I beg you--see it safe.

Do ye want me?" he whispered. "Sassenach, will ye take me--and risk the man that I am, for the sake of the man ye knew?" I felt a great wave of relief, mingled with fear. It ran from his hand on my shoulder to the tips of my toes, weakening my joints. "It's a lot too late to ask that," I said.... "Because I already risked everything I had. But whoever you are now Jamie Fraser--yes. Yes, I do want you.

To this point, he could not really have said that he loved William. Feel the terror of responsibility for him, yes. Carry thought of him like a gem in his pocket, certainly, reaching now and then to touch it, marveling. But now he felt the perfection of the tiny bones of William’s spine through his clothes, smooth as marbles under his fingers, smelled the scent of him, rich with the incense of innocence and the faint tang of shit and clean linen. And thought his heart would break with love.

I know what it felt . . . like when I . . . thought you were dead, and-" A small gasp for breath, and her eyes locked on his. "And I wouldn't do that to you." Her bosom fell and her eyes closed. It was a long moment before he could speak. "Thank ye, Sassenach," he whispered, and held her small, cold hand between his own and watched her breathe until the moon rose.

But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

That's for calling your father a fool. It may be true, but it's disrespectful. Brian Fraser to teenage Jamie

How did you keep this by you?" Grey demanded abruptly. "You were searched to the skin when you were brought back." The wide mouth curved slightly in the first genuine smile Grey had seen. "I swallowed it," Fraser said. Grey's hand closed convulsively on the sapphire. He opened his hand and rather gingerly set the gleaming blue thing on the table by the chess piece. "I see," he said. "I'm sure you do, Major," said Fraser, with a gravity that merely made the glint of amusement in his eyes more pronounced. "A diet of rough parritch has its advantages, now and again.

Take off your shirt," I said, sitting up and pulling at the hem of the garment. "Why?" he asked, but sat up and obliged. I knelt in front of him, admiring his naked body. "Because I want to look at you," I said. He was beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He raised his eyebrows. "Well then, fair's fair. Take off yours, then." He reached out and helped me squirm out of the wrinkled chemise, pushing it down over my hips. Once it was off, he held me by the waist, studying me with intense interest. I grew almost embarrassed as he looked me over. "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" I asked. "Aye, but not one so close." His face broke into a broad grin. "And not one that's mine.

I wish I could have fought him for you," he said abruptly, looking back at me. His blue eyes were dark and earnest. I smiled at him, touched. "It wasn't your fight, it was mine. But you won it anyway." I reached out a hand, and he squeezed it. "Aye, but that's not what I meant. If I'd fought him man to man and won, ye'd not need to feel any regret over it." He hesitated. "If ever—" "There aren't any more ifs," I said firmly. "I thought of every one of them yesterday, and here I still am." "Thank God," he said, smiling, "and God help you." Then he added, "Though I'll never understand why." I put my arms around his waist and held on as the horse slithered down the last steep slope. "Because," I said, "I bloody well can't do without you, Jamie Fraser, and that's all about it.

Well, I suppose men can make all the laws they like," he said, "but God made hope. The stars willna burn out." He turned and, cupping my chin, kissed me gently. "And nor will we.

I loved Frank...I loved him alot. But by that time, Jamie was my heart and the breath of my body. I couldn't leave him. I couldn't.

I would not piss on him was he burning in the flames of hell," Grey said politely. One of Hal's brows flicked upward, but only momentarily. "Just so," he said dryly. "The question, though, is whether Fraser might be inclined to perform a similar service for you." Grey placed his cup carefully in the center of the desk. "Only if he thought I might drown," he said, and went out.

Jaime," I said softly, "are you happy about it? About the baby?" Outlawed in Scotland, barred from his own home, and with only vague prospects in France, he could pardonably have been less than enthused about acquiring an additional obligation. He was silent for a moment, only hugging me harder, then sighed briefly before answering. "Aye, Sassenach," His hand stayed downward, gently rubbing my belly. "I'm happy. And proud as a stallion. But I am most awfully afraid too." "About the birth? I'll be all right." I could hardly blame him for apprehension; his own mother had died in childbirth, and birth and its complications were the leading cause of death for women in these times. Still, I knew a thing or two myself, and I had no intention whatever of exposing myself to what passed for medical care here. "Aye, that--and everything," he said softly. "I want to protect ye like a cloak and shield you and the child wi' my body." His voice was soft and husky, with a slight catch in it. "I would do anything for ye...and yet...there's nothing I can do. It doesna matter how strong I am, or how willing; I canna go with you where ye must go...nor even help ye at all. And to think of the things that might happen, and me helpless to stop them...aye, I'm afraid, Sassenach. "And yet"--he turned me toward him, hand closing gently over one breast--"yet when I think of you wi' my child at your breast...then I feel as though I've gone hollow as a soap bubble, and perhaps I shall burst with joy.

For the moment, everything had disappeared: the church, the battle, the screams and shouts and the rumble of limber wheels along the rutted road through Freehold. There wasn't anything but her and him, and he opened his eyes to look on her face, to fix it in his mind forever.

Claire. The name knifed across his heart with a pain that was more racking than anything his body had ever been called on to withstand.

It wasn't the risk," I said, flicking my toes at a big black-and-white splotched carp. "Or not entirely. It was—well, it was partly fear, but mostly it was that I—I couldn't leave Jamie." I shrugged helplessly. "I—simply couldn't.

Well, I suppose men can make all the laws they like," he said, "but God made hope.

You'd forgive me for Claire - but not for killing your . . . men." He glanced at the two Craddocks, spotty as a pair of raisin puddings and - Grey's look implied - likely no brighter.

You're the best man I ever met," I said. "I only meant...it's such a strain, to try and live for two people. To try to make them fit your ideas of what's right...You do it for a child, of course, you have to, but even then, it's dreadfully hard work. I couldn't do it for you - it would be wrong even to try." I'd taken him back more than a little. He sat for some moments, his face turned half away. Do ye really think me a good man?" he said at last. There was a queer note in his voice, that I couldn't quite decipher. Yes," I said, with no hesitation. Then added, half jokingly, "Don't you?" After a long pause, he said, quite seriously, "No, I shouldna think so." I looked at him speechless, no doubt with my mouth hanging open. I am a violent man, and I ken it well," he said quietly. He spread his hands out on his knees; big hands, which could wield a sword and dagger with ease, or choke the life from a man. " So do you - or ye should." You've never done anything you weren't forced to do!" No?" I don't think so." I said, but even as I spoke, a shadow of doubt clouded my words. Even when done from the most urgent necessity, did such things not leave a mark on the soul? {Claire Fraser & Jamie Fraser. Drums of Autumn}

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser," I said, spacing the words, formally, the way Jamie had spoken them to me when he first told me his full name on the day of our wedding.

God, don't laugh!" Jamie said, alarmed. "I didna mean to make ye laugh! Christ, Jenny will kill me if ye cough up a lung and die out here!

He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation, I wanted him quite badly.

No, my Sassenach", he said softly. "Open your eyes. Look at me. For that is your punishment, as it is mine. See what you have done to me, as I have done to you. Look at me.

if ye bed wi’ a vixen, ye must expect to get bit.

I'm honest enough to say that I dinna care what the right and wrong of it may be, so long as you're here wi' me, Claire," he said softly. "If it was a sin for you to choose me...then I would go to the devil himself and bless him for tempting ye to it." He lifted my foot and gently kissed the tip of my big toe. I laid my hand on his head; the short hair felt bristly but soft, like a very young hedgehog. "I don't think it was wrong," I said softly. "But if it was...then I'll go to the devil with you, Jamie Fraser.

And what's wrong wi' the way ye smell?' he said heatedly. 'At least ye smelt like a woman, not a damn flower garden. What d'ye think I am, a man or a bumblebee? Would ye wash yourself, Sassenach, so I can get within less than ten feet of ye?

Joy. Fear. Fear, most of all." His hand came up and smoothed my curls away from his nose "I havena been afraid for a verra long time, Sassenach," he whispered. "But now I think I am. For there is something to be lost, now." Page 394

A man should pay tribute to your body," he said softly... "For you are beautiful, and that is your right.

I dinna mean to interruupt ye, Sassenach" he whispered in my air. "But would ye like a bit of help we that?

I loved Frank...I loved him alot. But by that time, Jamie was my heart and the breath of my body. I couldn't leave him. I couldn't.

There was only one small probelm. It wasn't Frank I reached for, deep in the night, waking out of sleep. It wasn't his smooth, lithe body that walked my dreams a roused me so that I came awake moist and gasping, my heart pounding from the half-remembered touch. But I would never touch that man again. "Jamie," I whispered. "Oh Jamie.

Are ye all right, man?" Ian asked, in the same tone of mild concern he'd heard his da use now and then on his mam or Uncle Jamie. Evidently it was in fact the right tone to take with a Fraser about to go berserk, for William breathed like a grampus for a moment or two, then got himself under control.

If I were marooned here till it suited my overbearing, domineering, pig-headed jackass of a husband to finish risking his stupid neck, I'd use the time to see what I could spot.

Aye, beg me for mercy, Sassenach. Ye shallna have it, though; not yet.

I think it’s as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It’s like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives - maybe it’s your soul, maybe just that bit makes you yourself and not anyone else. You don’t usually show that bit of yourself to anyone, usually, unless sometimes to someone that ye love greatly.

That's the best thing I can think of. Having a good hold on your arse always makes me feel steady.

Please,” she said, “don’t mention Jamie Fraser to my daughter.

I felt at once horribly vulnerable and yet completely safe. But then—I had always felt that way with Jamie Fraser.

What's that you're doing, Sassenach?" "Making out little Gizmo's birth certificate--so far as I can," I added. "Gizmo?" he said doubtfully. "That will be a saint's name?" "I shouldn't think so, though you never know, what with people named Pantaleon and Onuphrius. Or Ferreolus." "Ferreolus? I dinna think I ken that one." He leaned back, hands linked over his knee. "One of my favorites," I told him, carefully filling in the birthdate and time of birth--even that was an estimate, poor thing. There were precisely two bits of unequivocal information on this birth certificate--the date and the name of the doctor who's delivered him. "Ferreolus," I went on with some new enjoyment, "is the patron saint of sick poultry. Christian martyr. He was a Roman tribune and a secret Christian. Having been found out, he was chained up in the prison cesspool to await trial--I suppose the cells must have been full. Sounds rather daredevil; he slipped his chains and escaped through the sewer. They caught up with him, though, dragged him back and beheaded him." Jamie looked blank. "What has that got to do wi' chickens?" "I haven't the faintest idea. Take it up with the Vatican," I advised him. "Mmphm. Aye, well, I've always been fond of Saint Guignole, myself." I could see the glint in his eye, but couldn't resist. "And what's he the patron of?" "He's involved against impotence." The glint got stronger. "I saw a statue of him in Brest once; they did say it had been there for a thousand years. 'Twas a miraculous statue--it had a cock like a gun muzzle, and--" "A what?" "Well, the size wasna the miraculous bit," he said, waving me to silence. "Or not quite. The townsfolk say that for a thousand years, folk have whittled away bits of it as holy relics, and yet the cock is still as big as ever." He grinned at me. "They do say that a man w' a bit of St. Guignole in his pocket can last a night and a day without tiring." "Not with the same woman, I don't imagine," I said dryly. "It does rather make you wonder what he did to merit sainthood, though, doesn't it?" He laughed. "Any man who's had his prayer answered could tell yet that, Sassenach." (PP. 841-842)

When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark on the way to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, "Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what see looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draught horse, this is the woman.

Jamie. I want you to mark me." "What?" he said, startled. The tiny sgian dhu he carried in his stocking was lying within reach, its handle of carved staghorn dark against the piled clothing. I reached for it and handed it to him. "Cut me," I said urgently. "Deep enough to leave a scar. I want to take away your touch with me, to have something of you that will stay with me always. I don't care if it hurts; nothing could hurt more than leaving you. At least when I touch it, wherever I am, I can feel your touch on me.

It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives - maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else.

Now that I have found thee, I know that in the first step I took, I moved away from thee.

For my sake,” he said firmly, addressing the air in front of him as though it were a tribunal, “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss, Sassenach,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Not for a dozen bairns. I’ve daughters and sons, nieces and nephews, grandchildren—weans enough.” He looked at me directly then, and spoke softly. “But I’ve no life but you, Claire.” He swallowed audibly, and went on, eyes fixed on mine. “I did think, though . . . if ye do want another child . . . perhaps I could still give ye one.

Some enterprising rabbit had dug its way under the stakes of my garden again. One voracious rabbit could eat a cabbage down to the roots, and from the looks of things, he'd brought friends. I sighed and squatted to repair the damage, packing rocks and earth back into the hole. The loss of Ian was a constant ache; at such moments as this, I missed his horrible dog as well. I had brought a large collection of cuttings and seeds from River Run, most of which had survived the journey. It was mid-June, still time--barely--to put in a fresh crop of carrots. The small patch of potato vines was all right, so were the peanut bushes; rabbits wouldn't touch those, and didn't care for the aromatic herbs either, except the fennel, which they gobbled like licorice. I wanted cabbages, though, to preserve a sauerkraut; come winter, we would want food with some taste to it, as well as some vitamin C. I had enough seed left, and could raise a couple of decent crops before the weather turned cold, if I could keep the bloody rabbits off. I drummed my fingers on the handle of my basket, thinking. The Indians scattered clippings of their hair around the edges of the fields, but that was more protection against deer than rabbits. Jamie was the best repellent, I decided. Nayawenne had told me that the scent of carnivore urine would keep rabbits away--and a man who ate meat was nearly as good as a mountain lion, to say nothing of being more biddable. Yes, that would do; he'd shot a deer only two days ago; it was still hanging. I should brew a fresh bucket of spruce beer to go with the roast venison, though . . . (Page 844)

... eu corri para longe das pedras, parando no que achei que deveria ser uma distância segura. Não era. O som das pedras - um rugido desta vez, em vez de um som estridente - trovejou através de mim, parando minha respiração e quase meu coração também. Um círculo de dor apertou meu peito e eu caí de joelhos, cambaleando, impotente. ... e o interior de minha cabeça explodiu em fogo. Muito tempo mais tarde, eu lentamente recobrei os sentidos, descendo das nuvens aos pedaços, como pedras de granizo. E me vi deitada, com a cabeça no colo de Jamie. E o ouvi dizer baixinho, para si mesmo e para mim: - Por você, eu continuarei. Se fosse apenas por mim... eu não o faria.

You said you could tear me limb from limb without touching me," I said. "You were right, damn you." "I am sorry," he whispered again, but this time he reached for me, and held me tight against him. "That I loved you? Don't be sorry for that," I said, my voice half muffled in his shirt. "Not ever.

Well, the Church does teach that self-abuse is a sin, but my father said he thought that if it came to a choice between abusin' yourself or some poor woman, a decent man might choose to make the sacrifice.

Father to son. And with that thought, all the disconnected, fragmentary, scattered fancies in his brain dropped suddenly into a single, vivid image: Jamie Fraser, seen from the back, looking over the horses in the paddock at Helwater. And beside him, standing on a rail and clinging to a higher one, William, Earl of Ellesmere. The alert cock of their heads, the set of their shoulders, the wide stance—just the same.

Might he ever see Jamie Fraser again? There was a good chance he would not. If chance did not kill him, cowardice might. The mania of confession was on him; best make the most of it. His quill had dried; he did not dip it again. I love you, he wrote, the strokes light and fast, making scarcely a mark upon the paper, with no ink. I wish it were not so. Then he rose, scooped up the scribbled papers, and, crushing them into a ball, threw them into the fire.

Ma ti dirò che non c'è niente in questo mondo, o in quello che verrà, che possa allontanarti da me...o che possa allontanare me da te.

If he were to find rest tonight, they would have to be exhumed; the ghosts raised in order to lay them.

The ninth Earl of Ellesmere had his chin thrust out as far as it would go, but the defiant look in his eye was tempered with a certain doubt as he intercepted Jamie’s cold blue gaze. Jamie set the horse’s hoof down slowly, just as slowly stood up, and drawing himself to his full height of six feet four, put his hands on his hips, looked down at the Earl, three feet six, and said, very softly, “No.

When I asked my Da how ye knew which was the right women, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that fruit tree on the road to Leoch with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, "Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.

Bonjour, Monsieur Fraser. She inclined her veil gracefully, more to hide the broad smile on her face than in greeting, I thought. I see you have made the acquaintance of Bouton. Are you perhaps in search of your wife? This seeming to be my cue, I sidled out of the office door behind her. My devoted spouse glanced from Bouton to the office door, plainly drawing conclusions. And just how long have ye been standin' there,Sassenach? he asked dryly. Long enough, I said, with the smug self-assurance of one in Bouton's good books.

L’amore per un figlio non può essere libero: sin dai primi segni di movimento nell’utero germoglia in noi una devozione tanto potente quanto viscerale, irresistibile come l’atto stesso della nascita. Ma, per quanto potente esso sia, si tratta pur sempre di un amore fatto di controllo; si diventa guardiani, protettori, custodi: c’è tantissima passione in questo, certo, ma mai abbandono. Avevo sempre, sempre dovuto bilanciare la compassione con la saggezza, l’amore con il giudizio, l’umanità con l’inflessibilità. Solo a Jamie avevo dato tutto ciò che possedevo, rischiando tutto. Avevo gettato al vento cautela, giudizio e saggezza, insieme ai piaceri e alle limitazioni di una carriera duramente conquistata. Gli avevo portato in dono nient’altro che me stessa, non ero stata altro che me stessa con lui, donandomi anima e corpo, e avevo lasciato che mi vedesse nuda, confidando che mi avrebbe amata tutta intera, comprese le mie fragilità, perché un tempo era stato così.

What . . . fellow?” The wind was cool, but I could see sweat trickling down the back of Jamie’s neck, dampening his collar and plastering the linen between his shoulders. Duff didn’t answer immediately. A look of speculation flickered in his small, deep-set eyes. “Don’t think about it, Duff,” Roger said, softly, but with great assurance. “I can reach ye from here with an oar, ken?” “Aye?” Duff glanced thoughtfully from Jamie, to Roger, and then to me. “Aye, reckon ye might. But allowin’ for the sake for argyment as how you can swim, MacKenzie—and even that Mr. Fraser might keep afloat—I dinna think that’s true of the lady, is it? Skirts and petticoats . . .” He shook his head, pursing thin lips in speculation as he looked at me. “Go to the bottom like a stone, she would.” Peter shifted ever so slightly, bringing his feet under him. “Claire?” Jamie said. I saw his fingers curl tight round the oars, and heard the note of strain in his voice. I sighed and drew the pistol out from under the coat across my lap. “Right,” I said. “Which one shall I shoot?

Ian permaneceria na aldeia por alguns dias, para se certificar de que Hiram e o povo de Pássaro estavam de comum acordo. No entanto, Jamie não estava absolutamente certo de que o senso de responsabilidade de Ian fosse sobrepujar seu senso de humor - de certa forma, o senso de humor de Ian tendia para o lado dos índios. Uma palavra da parte de Jamie poderia, portanto, vir a calhar, só por precaução. - Ele tem mulher - Jamie disse a Pássaro, indicando Hiram com um movimento da cabeça, o qual agora estava empenhado em uma conversa séria com dois dos índios mais velhos. - Acho que ele não gostaria de uma mulher em sua cama. Ele pode ser indelicado com ela, não compreendendo o gesto de cortesia. - Não se preocupe - Penstemon disse, ouvindo a conversa. Olhou para Hiram e seu lábio curvou-se com desdém. - Ninguém iria querer um filho DELE. Agora, um filho SEU, Matador-de-Urso... - Ela lhe lançou um longo olhar por baixo das pestanas e ele riu, saudando-a com um gesto de respeito. Era uma noite perfeita, fria e revigorante, e a porta foi deixada aberta para que o ar pudesse entrar. A fumaça da fogueira erguia-se reta e branca, fluindo na direção do buraco no teto, seus fantasmas móveis parecendo espíritos ascendendo de alegria. Todos haviam comido e bebido ao ponto de um agradável estupor, e houve um silêncio momentâneo e uma difusa sensação de paz e felicidade. - É bom para os homens comerem como irmãos - Hiram observou para Urso-em-Pé, em seu titubeante tsalagi. Ou melhor, tentou. E afinal, Jamie refletiu, sentindo suas costelas rangerem sob a tensão, era realmente uma diferença muito pequena entre "como irmãos" e "seus irmãos". Urso-em-Pé deu um olhar pensativo a Hiram e afastou-se disfarçadamente para longe dele. Pássaro observou isso e, após um momento de silêncio, virou-se para Jamie. - Você é um homem muito engraçado, Matador-de-Urso - ele repetiu, sacudindo a cabeça. - Você venceu.

Yet there remains a great deal of desirable land to be settled, further inland toward the mountains. It is somewhat remote, and yet, as you say, for men accustomed to the far reaches of the Scottish Highlands—” “I did hear mention of such grants, sir,” Jamie interrupted. “Yet is not the wording that persons holding such grants shall be white males, Protestant, and above thirty years of age? And this statement holds the force of law?” “That is the official wording of the Act, yes.” Mr. Tryon turned so that I saw him now in profile, tapping the ash from his cigar into a small porcelain bowl. The corner of his mouth was turned up in anticipation; the face of a fisherman who feels the first twitch on his line. “The offer is one of considerable interest,” Jamie said formally. “I must point out, however, that I am not a Protestant, nor are most of my kinsmen.” The Governor pursed his lips in deprecation, lifting one brow. “You are neither a Jew nor a Negro. I may speak as one gentleman to another, may I not? In all frankness, Mr. Fraser, there is the law, and then there is what is done.” He raised his glass with a small smile, setting the hook. “And I am convinced that you understand that as well as I do.