Chapter 28 - Kisses and Drawers

It's nice to see Claire feeling that she is fitting in to the routine of the estate.

...surrounded by the peaceful house and grounds of Lallybroch and the cheerful company of Jenny, Ian, and small Jamie, I felt as though I had come home at last.

The six months or so since she arrived in this time and place, Claire appears to have finally come to grips with the reality of her situation. I'm pleased to see the clarity she exhibits in her thoughts about how things are. Yet there is a bit of anxiety, belayed, in the notion of heading to Beauly, "the seat of clan Fraser" where Jamies grandfather may be able to help with passage to France in a few short weeks.

Clan politics aside, thoughts of leaving are interrupted by the work at hand: Ian mentioned to Jamie that the wheel at the mill has stopped turning. As Claire and Jamie head in that direction, they discuss their pasts and youthful experimentation with love; well, kisses, at least.

Arriving at the mill, Jamie determines that there is indeed something stuck in the wheel mechanism under the water. The early fall weather and cold water almost dissuades him, however, it must be done. As he is undressing, Claire notices the unusual and ill-fitted flannel drawers that hang from Jamies waist.

“Your grandfather’s?” I guessed, making a highly unsuccessful effort to suppress my giggling. “Or your grandmother’s?” “My father’s,” he said coldly, looking down his nose at me. “Ye dinna expect me to be swimming bare as an egg before my wife and my tenants, do ye?”

However, several attempts at diving under the mill provide no immediate solution.

The Cedar Grist Mill, Amboy WA. Not far from where we live.
(Although I never dove beneath it in my underwear.)

With Jamie's continued attempts to clear the wheel mechanism, Claire meets a local woman, Grannie MacNab. Grannie shares with Claire how she had wanted to ask Jamie if her grandson Robbie could serve as the stable lad at the estate to escape his father's unwarranted beatings.

Their conversation is interrupted by the visit of a local troop of redcoats, looking for a sack of meal from the mill. Unaware of Jamie's presence underwater, the women try their best to distract the soldiers from determining the most wanted man lurking in the freezing waters nearby.

Not sure the Frasers feel the same way about this...

As one of the soldiers determines to find the cause of the mill's inactivity, the tension builds about how soon Jamie will be found out. As dramatically as it starts, the mill's wheel starts underway again, albeit with a bit of additional cloth coming over the top in one of the wheel scoops: Jamie's father's drawers.

Satisfied the condition is rectified, the redcoats leave with their flannel souvenier "to polish tack, at least". A now-frozen Jamie emerges after they depart, with Grannie MacNab firing her request for her grandson to Jamie.

“Grannie MacNab,” Jamie interrupted, advancing a menacing half-step through the water, “whatever your wish is, I’ll do it. Provided only that ye’ll give me back my shirt before my parts fall off wi’ cold.”

C'mon, give 'em a break. Those redcoats were only trying to be helpful...
:)

Chapter 27 - The Last Reason

I'm liking the mood that is set at Lallybroch: the resident Laird returning home to an estate that has been functioning with precision since he left. Jenny has been keeping things running at a smooth pitch, and creating a warmth of family as hers continues to grow.

I also enjoyed the way Jenny and Claire are getting to know each other, going about the business of the day and having a discussion with the "real" conversation going on just below the surface:

“You’ve run the house here alone since your mother died?”
“Oh, aye. Since I was ten.”
I had the nurturing and the loving of him as a boy. What will you do with the man I helped make?“Jamie says as you’re a rare fine healer.”
“I mended his shoulder for him when we first met.”
Yes, I am capable, and kind. I will care for him.“I hear ye married very quickly.”
Did you wed my brother for his land and money?“Yes, it was quick. I didn’t even know Jamie’s true surname until just before the ceremony.”
I didn’t know he was laird of this place; I can only have married him for himself.

Women don't really do that, do they? (Yes. That was a joke).

I was interested to know that the house, built in 1702, had all the most modern conveniences, like a porcelain stove and a brick oven for bread baking. I found it especially noteworthy that there were paintings of the children on the walls; how we take for granted the modern art of photography. And yet, the paintings held special memories for Jamie and Jenny, much like our photos do today.

Yes, yes, I know, it is exciting to find out that Jamie married for love, not just out of duty. Seriously, we needed to hear him say it? Finally, it's one of the most personal things he's shared; no wonder Claire felt shocked when he said it.

You know what else I like, is the way Diana takes a phrase and turns it into a vivid picture, much like the paintings hanging on the wall of the home. Speaking of the busy-ness of the estate, Claire thinks:

For the first time, I understood the stern Scotch strictures against idleness that had seemed like mere quaintness before—or after, as the case might be. Idleness would have seemed not only a sign of moral decay, but an affront to the natural order of things.

Then Diana brings out her paintbrush, and expertly places just a few sentences, like descriptive little jewels nestled within the folds a ruffled velvet backdrop:

There were moments, of course. Those small spaces of time, too soon gone, when everything seems to stand still, and existence is balanced on a perfect point, like the moment of change between the dark and the light, when both and neither surround you.

There it is. Just the slightest of flourish within the larger surface description of the passage that brings depth and beauty to the moment.

I know, I'm supposed to be liking all the battle scenes and guy stuff. But I guess what I really appreciate is the vivid artistry of it all; seeing someone who can effortlessly turn a well-chosen phrase into a novella of expression just as easily as explain the historical facts of herbal medicine, or describe the panic and adrenaline of hand-to-hand combat. This, to me, is what true storytelling is all about.

Chapter 26 - The Laird's Return

It's interesting to see where this storyline will go now; now that Jamie knows Claire's from the future, and Geilie, too. Not much of that is explored just yet, though, as the focus on this chapter is Jamie's return to Lallybroch.

As the two encounter Jock Graham on their travel back to Jamie's home, we find a bit of the honor afforded to the Laird of Broch Tuarach. I especially liked the descriptions of the two of them, rag-tag as they were from their travels.

His hair had grown long enough in the last months to reach his shoulders. Usually clubbed into a queue or laced back, it was free now, thick and unruly, with small bits of leaf and stick caught in the disordered coppery locks. Face burned a deep ruddy bronze, boots cracked from walking, dirk and sword thrust through his belt, he looked a wild Highlander indeed.
I was hardly better. Covered modestly enough in the billows of Jamie’s best shirt and the remnants of my shirt, barefoot, and shawled in his plaid, I looked a right ragamuffin. Encouraged by the misty dampness and lacking any restraint in the form of comb or brush, my hair rioted all over my head. It had grown as well during my sojourn at the Castle, and floated in clouds and tangles about my shoulders, drifting into my eyes whenever the wind was behind us, as it was now.

I'm sure this was the condition of most average folks in the Highlands, a fact of hygiene that most of us in this day and age take for granted. I am ever thankful for electricity and indoor plumbing.

As the weary travelers approach the estate, they are greeted by the master's dogs. Again, another aspect of extreme rural living that I take for granted: having several faithful dogs makes for a great security team.

An Aussie Staghound - Not a bad
protector to have around the estate.

I was also relieved to hear the background story of Jamie's sister Jenny, and how Randall had never had his way with her.

The brother-sister arguing and bickering was classic family fare, with the classic Scottish tempers to boot. Like Claire's character, I appreciate people who are straight-forward and unpretentious in their demeanor, and passionate about everything that's important to them. I can think of no greater loss than going through life without forming a valid opinion about anything of significance, or worse yet, holding a strong and valid position and not having the confidence or passion to reveal it to others.

Ian Murray, Jenny's husband, appears to be a good off-set to Claire, as far as in-laws go, at least. A good-natured man who seems to understand the Fraser brother and sister better than they understand themselves. It's a nice picture to see that Jenny and Ian have begun a family and are growing the clan. I am hopeful that Claire and Jamie have an opportunity to form their own identity in their time away from the Castle Leoch.

Chapter 24 - By the Pricking of My Thumbs (Part 1)

Whew! This is one...long...chapter. Actually, it was kind of funny as I read it. Not the story; just the way I was reading it. I was reading it on a new e-reading device, and each time I hit one of the scene changes I was thinking maybe my digital copy of the book didn't have chapter headings listed...? So I would scroll down a ways and...nope, it just kept...on..going.

Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't boring or anything. I just didn't expect to finish half of the book in one sitting. Okay, hyperbole aside, it actually IS just under 10% of the entire book. I know, I know, a lot of you are saying right now, "...and that's a problem, because...?" That's right, I'm sure you're the same ones who read MOBY straight through from start to finish with only three fast-food meals, two two-liter bottles of Diet Coke, five bags of chips, four bathroom breaks and three boxes of tissues. Mmm hmm, I see how this works.

At any rate, when we last left our intrepid explorers (are there any other kind?), they were being welcomed back to Castle Leoch with congratulatory toasts to their new marriage, and Geilie was warning Claire about the possibility of poison in her food for marrying the only real eligible bachelor at the castle. Tough crowd.

Here we learn of the death of Dougal's estranged wife, Maura, and Dougal and Ned head out to make arrangements. This spurs a little more background on Jamie's parents and their closer-than-usual marriage:

“It was different wi’ my own folk, ye ken. Dougal’s was an arranged marriage, like Colum’s and a matter more of lands and business than the wanting of each other. But my parents—well, they wed for love, against the wishes of both families, and so we were…not cut off, exactly; but more by ourselves at Lallybroch. My parents didna go often to visit relatives or do business outside, and so I think they turned more to each other than husband and wife usually do.”

It is this longing for a similar simple life at Lallybroch for himself and Claire that draws in to Jamie's thoughts. Although "longing for Lallybroch" just sounds a bit off, but you get the meaning.

Then with Jamie and Claire literally having a roll in the hay in the stable loft, young Hamish wanders in, intent on trading his pony for Donas (the demon horse), in order to prove to his friends he is man enough to handle a "real" horse. From my experience, demon horses are never usually a good idea.

*Uncomfortable silence*

That was a joke, as I've ridden a horse, like, maybe three times in my life. Some of that was even for fun. But I digress.

This scene between Jamie and Hamish is really quite charming, what with "the talk" and all. Poor Jamie only just recently figured out how all the equipment is supposed to work, and here he is trying to ensure Hamish has a better understanding than he did.

“Do ye mind being married,” he said, staring at his cousin. “Getting into bed every night with a lady, I mean.” “No,” said Jamie. “No, in fact, it’s verra pleasant.” Hamish looked doubtful. “I dinna think I should like it much. But then all the girls I know are skinny as sticks, and they smell o’ barely water. The lady Claire—your lady, I mean,” he added hastily, as though wishing to avoid confusion, “she’s, er, she looks as though she’d be nicer to sleep with. Soft, I mean.”

Indeed. My Pocket Claire, standing dutifully to the side of my computer screen, looking on and making sure that I am representing this story faithfully, confirms this.

Pocket Claire, the Ever-Vigilant Vanguard of my blogging

Later that evening, as Claire makes preparations for bed, her mind wanders to the thoughts of her troubles with conceiving, and how fortunate they are that her cycle has not been unduly interrupted. Me, being the conscientious reader that I am, totally missed that boat. It had never crossed my mind how much more complicated this whole thing could become with children entering the picture. (No immediate spoilers, please. And yes, I have an idea of what comes up later in the series).

As Jamie and Claire are settling in for the night, they discover an unusual omen in the bedding:

We found it under my pillow. “What on earth…?” I picked it up, and promptly dropped it. “Ouch! It has thorns!” “It was a small bundle of plants, plucked up roughly by the roots, and bound together with a bit of black thread. The plants were wilted, but a pungent smell still rose from the drooping leaves. There was one flower in the bouquet, a crushed primrose, whose thorny stem had pricked my thumb.

The ill-wish leads to further questions about who left it. A little online research about this superstitious custom makes it easy to understand it was intended to wish the marriage ill, and possibly prevent children.

"The withering of plants has long been regarded ominous, and, according to a Welsh superstition, if there are faded leaves in a room where a baby is christened, it will soon die."  The Folk-lore of Plants By Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer, 1889 

Awesome. What a pleasant thought. Aren't there any happy superstitions like, "If the plant in the house dies, you win the lottery", or "If the moon shines in your window in the month of May, your family takes you on an all-expenses paid cruise to Bermuda"? Sheesh. Lighten up, superstitious crazies.

And this, in my humble opinion is where this chapter SHOULD have ended. Well, at least it's where this post ends. Part 2 to follow in a few days...