#and jamie takes greater advantage of william's assumptions about his mother

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Mac Ruaidh - Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Willie was excited as he retrieved extra blankets for Da and put them on the bed to be piled into the pack with their extra layers of clothes and the few crude toys he possessed. Da said that they’d done the same last year, Willie had just been too little to remember but now that he was four he’d be sure to remember for next year.

“We’ve got to stop in the kitchen to see Cook and get some supper before we go over,” Da explained as he secured the pack and its contents.

“How long’re we stayin’?” Willie asked.

“As long as it takes the three mares to foal. It could be a day or two but it could be a week or more. It’s no up to us but we must be there to help them through it.”

Willie nodded and led the way out of their room and down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen where Cook already had a basket waiting for them.

“Mac,” she said warmly, dusting her flour covered hands on her apron before wiping at the sweat on her brow with the back of her hand. “Molly went to the market for me earlier today and while she was there she stopped in to see Widow March.” Cook shuffled over to the counter where some of the things Molly had retrieved for her remained in their basket. “The widow gave her this for you,” she pulled out a folded and sealed bit of paper and squinted at the direction above the smudge of wax before shrugging and holding it out for him. “She said it’s for you from that lass Sabrina what was wet nurse to your boy.”

Willie cocked his head as he watched Da take the paper, glance at it, and tuck it away in his shirt.

“Thank ye,” Jamie said with a nod.

Cook frowned at him and briefly crossed her arms over her chest before realizing she was smearing the flour that still clung to her hands across the dark wool of her bodice. She grabbed a nearby rag that wasn’t a whole lot cleaner than her hands and used it to wipe at the smudges. “I’m supposing that there is her lettin’ you know she’s off to be wed again.”

Willie watched Cook’s eyes watching Da even though her head was still directed down. The boy’s head whipped to follow the direction of Cook’s gaze and see what Da might do.

“And what leaves ye wi’ that impression?” Da asked.

“The Widow March were friends wi’ Sabrina’s late husband’s mother. It’s why she left it wi’ the widow knowin’ she’d find a way to get it to you. Shame if you ask me. All that time she was nurse to your boy and you just let her leave like that… Should have spoken up but it seems you’ve lost your chance.”

Da’s eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched but it was the kind of narrowing and twitching that meant Da was trying not to laugh, not the kind that meant he was angry but not in a position to say as much.

“And ye thought I ought to have…” Da trailed as his lips continued to twitch towards laughter.

“Married her, yes,” Cook pressed. “She was that fond of your boy and certainly seemed fond of you as well. I don’ know what you noticed of her when she was leaving but she seemed sorry to be leavin’ you two behind, of that I’m sure. She was a sweet lass and you’d have been lucky to have her.”

Da pressed his lips together and nodded. “I cannae disagree wi’ a word of that but I dinna know that I’d have things other than they are now wi’ just me and Willie.” He grinned down at the lad and ruffled his hair until Willie laughed and reached up to shoo Da’s hand away. “Ye ken I was married once before,” Da continued, turning back to Cook. “I’ll never love another the way I loved my wife and I dinna think it would be right for me to wed a woman I loved less. It wouldna be fair to her.”

Cook made a strange face at Da before looking down at Willie. Da frowned and put a strong hand between Willie’s shoulder blades, guiding him towards the door leading out to the yard.

“Let’s go, Willie. We need to settle our things in before we can tend the horses and they’ll be impatient for their breakfast.”

Willie followed his father to the barn and waited at the bottom while Da carried their things carefully up the ladder. When everything was up in the loft, Da came back down and let Willie climb on his own following behind to catch him if he fell––he didn’t fall.

There was one large pallet in the corner for the two of them to share and a smaller pallet along the opposite wall where one of the other grooms slept throughout the year. Da pulled out their blankets and started laying them out while Willie pulled his toys––a hand-carved horse Da had made him, a soft ball made of kitchen twine scraps wrapped around a wooden core and sewn tight up in burlap, and a small book of nursery rhymes that had been a gift from Lord and Lady Dunsany, just a little something they found when they were in London (Da had been quiet when they gave it to him but agreed with Lady Dunsany when she said that he ought to be taught his letters and informed Lady Dunsany that in fact, he had started teaching Willie to read and write several weeks earlier).

“Da… Who was it Cook was talkin’ about? The woman who was wet?” Willie asked as he lay back on the pallet and tossed the ball into the air.

“Take care ye dinna miss and have that hit ye in the face,” Da warned. Willie only tossed the ball higher above his face. Da sighed and settled onto the pallet next to Willie watching carefully as the ball’s upward track slowed before dropping back toward Willie’s head. “Ye’d likely recall Sabrina if ye saw her again but it’s been near two years since she left the house to live wi’ her sister. She helped me to take care of ye when ye were a wee bairn.”

“And Cook says you should have married her?”

Da snorted. “Aye, I suppose that is what Cook said. But she didna ken Sabrina so well as I did nor does she ken me so well as she thinks either. I’m happy to hear Sabrina’s to be married but I’m no sorry it’s no to me.”

“Cause ye still love Mam, right?” Willie’s hand missed the ball and it hit him right between the eyes. He winced and Da pulled him upright pulling his hands away from his face so he could see the place where the ball had hit.

“I hope that knocked a bit of sense into ye,” Da remarked as he set the ball off to the side.

“You said ye never loved another woman like ye did yer wife,” Willie pressed, ignoring the incident with the ball.

“I did say that and I meant it,” Da answered with a somber intensity.

“What was she like?” Willie asked. He’d overheard speculation from some of the servants up at the house over the years about the kind of woman his mother had been but it had only occurred to him that morning that his father almost never talked about her. “Am I like Mam?”

Da sighed and leaned back against the wall of the barn, the straw in the pallet crinkling under his weight. He reached over and drew Willie to him, pulling him onto his lap and waiting for Willie to slump against him.

“Ye have a bit of yer mother’s coloring,” Da started, resting a hand on his head and ruffling his hair. “And some of her spirit, too. Ye ken the way ye manage to get Cook and the kitchen maids to sneak ye extra bits of food when ye think I’m no looking? Yer mother had her own ways of gettin’ folk to do her bidding and a knack for finding trouble––though yer Auntie Jenny would say I have plenty of that to have shared wi’ ye myself.”

“Did you marry here or was it back home in Scotland?” Willie had never seen Scotland but Da promised that someday they’d go back and he’d get to see Lallybroch. Willie had fallen asleep to stories of Lallybroch, the beauty of the land, the people who lived there, what things had been like before a war had changed it all. He didn’t understand it all––sometimes Da started telling one story but then change part way through and tell a different one instead. Maybe he’d understand when he was older.

“I married in Scotland,” Da said quietly. “I didna know I’d be getting married until the day before––neither of us did. We neither of us had much choice in the matter.”

Willie lifted his head and stared in shock at his father. “You mean ye didna want to marry her?”

Da laughed. “Tha’s no what I said. I said I didna have much choice when I married. But I wanted to marry Claire verra badly. I didna tell her then––and no for a while after––but I loved her long before the day I married her. She was my choice whether it mattered or no. And by the time it mattered, she loved me too and chose me… my Sassenach,” he murmured quietly like he was talking to someone else though he and Willie were alone.

“Sassenach? Mam was English?”

Da started and blinked before replying, “Aye. Yer mam was an English lass.” He braced himself against the wall and pushed back upright with a groan. “We canna be wasting the day up here. Let’s feed the horses, check on the mares, and then come back for a bite ourselves. Ye can bring yer book down to practice while I reshoe the horses Lord Dunsany wants to show the buyers next week.”

Willie let a small whine slip out before his father turned an impatient eye his way. “Can I help ye with the horses’ shoes instead of reading? I can do that later.”

“If ye read me a page, I’ll let ye hold the nails for me,” Da offered as a compromise.