Chapter 13 - A Marriage is Announced

Wow, what an interesting chapter. This one definitely runs the gamut from disorientation, to pain and suffering, to, well, let's just say unusually motivated legal agreements.

At first I couldn't figure out what Dougal was doing. Obviously he was taken aback by the bitter cruelty of Randall punching Claire. But why in the heck would he be taking Claire out into the the woods essentially to tell her the story about Jamie?

...hereabouts, ladies are generally not exposed to such sights as floggings. Have ye ever seen one?”"

No, nor do I much want to,” I responded sharply. “I can imagine what it would take to make marks like the ones on Jamie’s back, though.” 

Dougal shook his head, flipping water out of the pool at a curious jay that ventured close. “Now, there you’re wrong, lass, and you’ll pardon my saying so. Imagination is all verra well, but it isna equal to the sight of a man having his back laid open. A verra nasty thing—it’s meant to break a man, and most often it succeeds.”  

And on it goes; the nerve-wracking anticipation, the defiant endurance, all to demonstrate a wickedness in Randall that we could already guess at, but there it was, spelled out in all of its bloody cruelty for all to see. As profoundly moving and heroic as that story about Jamie being flogged was, it made no sense to me why Dougal was telling Claire all of that back story, until she asked him that very same question.

Everything was quiet in the small glade except for the faint rush of wind through the leaves of the rowan tree. I closed my eyes and listened to it for some time. “Why?” I asked finally, eyes still closed. “Why did you tell me?”

Dougal was watching me intently when I opened my eyes. I dipped a hand in the spring again, and applied the cool water to my temples. “I thought it might serve as what ye may call a character illustration,” he said.

"Of Randall?” I uttered a short, mirthless laugh. “I don’t need any further evidence as to his character, thank you.”

“Of Randall,” he agreed, “and Jamie too.”  

So here it comes: the Plan. In order to spare Claire from having to be delivered to this maniacal Randall, who now (and I'm sure in greater detail to come) is even more confirmedly wicked, Dougal suggests that she marry Jamie to become a Scot and avoid being handed over to his evilness. It keeps her safe and gets him off the hook for not delivering her, and Jamie...well, Jamie gets, y'know...Claire.

What?! Married?! Okay so let's just pause here for a moment and reflect. When you have finished pausing and reflecting, please come back and finish reading.

Are you done now? Okay, good. (If you did get a snack, be sure to clean your fingers so the keyboard and mouse don't get sticky).

So, if you remember, I originally agreed to read at least 200 pages of this book, for I was told by Debby Kennedy that by then I would be hooked. In good faith, not only did I commit to read the whole book, I also agreed to document my thoughts through each chapter. So, here I am, only a hundred and seventy-seven pages into this thing, and already Claire and Jamie are getting married!! I mean, in any other story, we're basically done! Just get Claire back to the stones, a heart-breaking scene where she can no longer stay with Jamie who rescued her from the evil Randall, and be sucked back through the time-hole thing to be reunited with her true husband Frank, only to reminisce longingly about her adventures in the 18th century, where, as the story closes, now in her old age, Frank has died, and in a fit of aged introspection she travels back to Craigh na Dunh only to find a now-ancient carving of Jamie's undying love for her for all time, aaaaaaand fade to black. End of story.

Yeah. Not with Diana. I can see how this is going to go. This is why she couldn't sell the movie rights to just have this story be a 2-1/2 hour movie, because we're already there, done! The whole story up to this point is a complete whole (with the modified, truncated ending, of course).

Um, I'm pretty sure with 7 more books already written (who knows how many more on the way), Diana's just getting warmed up. At this point in this first book, she hasn't even gone through her first bottle of Rhenish yet. With all of the background and history groundwork already laid, this story still has a million places to go. It's just like my eight-year-old daughter's really long feet; she's got to grow into them.

So, after all the wrangling that Dougal has done, they draw up the paperwork with the help of Ned Gowan:

...Dougal removed a chamber pot from its resting place on the table and fanned the sheets of paper out ceremoniously on the rough oak surface. “All done,” he said, with the pride of one who has shepherded a difficult project to a successful conclusion. “Ned’s drawn up the papers; nothing like a lawyer—so long as he’s on your side, eh, Ned?” 

The men all laughed, evidently in good humor. 

"Not really difficult, ye ken,” Ned said modestly. “It’s but a simple contract.”

A simple contract, yes, but a massive shift in the plot of the story, to be sure. Of course, Jamie's response to all of this Plan is just priceless:

“Did you know that Dougal wants us to marry?” I demanded bluntly.

His expression cleared. “Oh, aye. I knew that.”

"But surely,” I said, “a young man like yourself; I mean, isn’t there anyone else you’re, ah, interested in?”

He looked blank for a moment, then understanding dawned. “Oh, am I promised? Nay, I’m no much of a prospect for a girl.” He hurried on, as though feeling this might sound insulting. “I mean, I’ve no property to speak of, and nothing more than a soldier’s pay to live on.” He rubbed his chin, eyeing me dubiously. “Then there’s the minor difficulty that I’ve a price on my head. No father much wants his daughter married to a man as may be arrested and hanged any time. Did ye think of that?”

I flapped my hand, dismissing the matter of outlawry as a minor consideration, compared to the whole monstrous idea. 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.

What more can be said to that wonderful exchange? On to the wedding!

Chapter 8 - An Evening's Entertainment

This chapter opens a bit unexpectedly for me, as I was not sure how well Claire was going to take to the role of "healer" at the castle. But one of the early phrases, I think, captures it beautifully:

To take responsibility for the welfare of others made me feel less victimized by the whims of whatever impossible fate had brought me here...

Helping others is always the best way to get our eyes off of our own cares and worries. I thought this was just a great way of highlighting the resilient and pragmatic core of Claire's character.

Then we move to the hall for the entertainment gathering that evening, and I was introduced to a new wine term with which I, like Claire, was also not familiar:

...Rhenish, ye know. You’re not familiar with it?” I shook my head as he tipped the decanter over my goblet, filling the bowl with a pool of glowing rose. He held his own goblet by the stem, turning it before his face so that the firelight lit the contents with dashes of vermilion. 

According to the website Pull the Cork, "Rhenish wines are dry white wines from the Rhine river valley in Germany". Jamie explains the uniqueness of this specific wine to Claire:

“Aye, it’s good,” he said, handing the goblet back. “It’s also double strength. Colum takes it at night because his legs pain him."

Yes, please, I'll have another. Actually, for me, I'm more of a deep red Merlot or Cabernet fancier, and I certainly don't mind a hearty ale now and again. But I'm always open to try something new, especially if it's double strength. I always knew I could claim it for its "medicinal value". :)

The entertainment scene was also very interesting. The way the music is depicted, some in Gaelic and some in English, I could almost hear the strains of music over the words on the page. I also liked how Gwyllyn conveyed the legends and myths in the stories he told. It was great seeing the story of the Wee Folk came to life for Claire with unusual clarity and significance:

...women trapped in the rocks of fairy duns, traveling far and arriving exhausted, who knew not where they had been, nor how they had come there.

To me, that is just great storytelling, introducing us to the myths-that-could-be-true through the pairing of the previous story of Reverend Wakefield's with this legend of the Wee Folk. Many a good yarn have been spun from the legends of yore.

As they head back to Claire's room to change the dressing on Jamie's shoulder, I was unexpectedly struck with the unique perspective Jamie had about not wanting to Alec to see the scars on his back:

“But when you see it yourself, it’s like”—he hesitated, looking for words—“it’s a bit…personal, maybe, is what I mean. I think…if he were to see the scars, he couldna see me anymore without thinking of my back. And I’d be able to see him thinking of it, and that would make me remember it, and—” He broke off, shrugging.

I understand how this helps illustrate the uncaring attitude that people have historically held towards those who were physically handicapped in some way (still evident today, in many ways). However, while a very tender and emotional moment for Jamie and Claire (as she understood the depth of what he had been through), I couldn't help think that this was a bit out of character from a male perspective.

Most guys are usually pretty quick to share stories of their scars, and demonstrate a bit of bravado (even if false bravado). I would think it would make more sense if Alec had seen his back, and then made light of it along the lines of "Och, laddie, reminds me of the floggin' that auld MacGregor received back in '38. Redcoats havena bit o' mercy in them" (or something like that), that would deepen the antagonism toward the English. Then he would have secretly had a higher opinion of Jamie, knowing what he had been through, because he had never seen anything that bad, even with old MacGregor. The emotion conveyed would be the same, but in a slightly different vein.

I guess it all depends on which way the story needs highlighting, whether the distrust towards the English or the trust between Jamie and Claire (which is obviously what is conveyed here). But as Jamie even admits: "I daresay I’m too tender-minded about it, in any case." Obviously it was deeply personal for him, and it is a very touching scene allowing Claire into that personal sphere.

Then the mood is lightened as Claire explores the castle:

There was no one about for the moment, and I took the opportunity to explore the upper floors of the castle, poking into empty chambers and winding staircases, mapping the castle in my mind.

I was glad for this insight, as I would have been doing the same at my first opportunity. It shows my history-buff side, but what grander thrill than to explore an 18th-century castle at the height of its use and habitation! Of course, this is a device to have Claire find Jamie, um, detained in a prior engagement. This all makes for a bit of fun at the dinner table that evening:

“Your mouth looks a bit swollen, Jamie. Get thumped by a horse, did you?” I asked wickedly.
“Aye,” he answered, narrowing his eyes. “Swung its head when I wasna looking.” He spoke placidly, but I felt a large foot come down on top of mine under the table. It rested lightly at the moment, but the threat was explicit.
“Too bad; those fillies can be dangerous,” I said innocently.

This good-natured sparring is depicted masterfully, and just feels good after the depth of the preceding pages. It is also a little deeper insight into the perceptiveness of Old Alec, as he relates that what Jamie needs is a woman and not a girl.

Hmm...I wonder which woman he could possibly be talking about? :)