Chapter 24 (part 3)

As Claire decides to head to Colum's study to borrow a book, she overhears a conversation between Colum and Dougal regarding  the Duke possibly helping Jamie regain his freedom. She maneuvers her way in by bearing a tray that Mrs. Fitz had sent by Laoghaire, who ran frightened when she dropped a cup. I couldn't help chuckling at the image that popped into my head when Claire said she had to hide behind the curtains on the landing as Laoghaire approached, and all that was sticking out was her feet. All I could think of was Mary Poppins, and those horrendously pointed boots she wears.

These are all I could imagine sticking out
below the curtain where Claire was hiding...

In the process of actually being in the room and rummaging for books of interest, Claire glances out the window and witnesses Hamish attempt to jump a low wall with the horse Cobham, who stumbles and topples over onto the young boy, knocking the wind out of him. Claire notices the concern that Colum has for the young lad, "as if he were your own." "Yes," is all Colum replies. This is like the fifth time that a reference is made to who's son Hamish is...for crying out loud, Diana, just tell us plainly!

At dinner that evening, Claire recounts the physical features of the characters seated around the dinner table. These descriptions belie Diana's astute knowledge of physiology, and of tribal traits among the various indigenous people. During the dinner, Jamie recounts his past encounter with the Duke of Sandringham. His explanations of the Duke's unusual fetish for young boys, and Jamie in particular, set the group laughing with ribald comments.

The next day, Alec and Jamie rush in and enlist Claire's assisitance in helping one of the fillies give birth, as the foal had turned. This required Claire to reach inside and physically turn the foal so the delivery could proceed. As Diana describes the process, I had the impression this is something she had either done first hand, or had researched thoroughly enough to make it seem as though she had. For me, not being raised on a farm or tending to livestock, this simply demonstrates the commitment a good "husbandman" (farmer) has to those entrusted to his care. I'm sure my arm would not be long enough. Yup, I'm sure of it.

Geilie invites Claire to gather moss in the foothills out away from the village, and in the process of their harvest they come across a small baby left to die on a "mountain of the fairies". The legend of the changeling was that the Wee Folk would come and replace the sick child with the human child they had previously stolen. Claire will have none of it, but Geilie actually points out a bit of "wisdom" (or is it a set-up?) before she leaves to head back to the village:

“Claire,” she said urgently, shaking me by the arms. “Listen to me. If ye go near that child and it dies—and it will, believe me, I’ve seen them like that—then the family will blame you for it. Do ye no see the danger of it? Don’t ye know what they say about you in the village?”

Claire decides to risk being counted a witch for the sake of saving the child, but it's too late. Alone in the dusk, Jamie, concerned for her welfare, comes to her aid to help her return to the castle. While Jamie admits he doesn't believe the fairie stories, he imparts a statement that struck me about our lives in general, and why people are prone to believe "fairie stories" in the first place:

“They’ve ne’er been more than a day’s walk from the place they were born, except for a great thing like a clan Gathering, and that might happen twice in a lifetime. They live among the glens and the lochs, and they hear no more of the world than what Father Bain tells them in kirk of a Sunday. That and the old stories.”

How true that is for our own lives, as well. We fall into our routines and conduct "business as usual" all the while life is passing us by.  As John Lennon said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." In that context, the "fairie stories" of our lives are what provide a deeper meaning to the callous and bitter world that we can sometimes experience in the process of making a living and raising a family.

Upon returning to the castle they find the Duke has arrived. For all that was said about the man, Claire finds him a boisterous character and takes pleasingly to him.

As Geilie had promised, she makes good on her offer to Claire to help her discover who left the ill-wish in their bed. At least that's what she says. In the process of the "summoning", she actually drugs Claire with opium to find out what secrets she might be hiding about where she comes from.

“Who sent you here?”
“I came.”
“Why did you come?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Why can’t you tell?”
“Because no one will believe me.”
The voice in my head grew still more soothing, friendly, beguiling.
“I will believe you. Believe me. Who are you?”
“Claire.”

 At least now we know for sure why everyone says she is a witch.

"Really, I'm not a bad witch. Wait, I guess
that does start with a "b" and and with "itch".
But you have to admit I look stunning in this bodice..."

True to form, this bears out when Geile's husband is overcome at the banquet hall, gasping and dies on the floor, despite Claire's  best efforts to save him. Witch, indeed. This long chapter ends on the portent of only further harm for Claire from Geilie, as she arrives at Geilie's under false pretenses, and the threat of being named a witch herself.