Outlander: The Standing Stones

For Scots Who Wi' Bruce Ha' Bled

 I am married. I am now the "young" Lady Campbell—Georgie's aunt is now the "old" Lady Campbell, though no one would ever say that to her face. I am in possession of a small fortune that is all my own, given to me by my husband to provide for me in case something happens to him. I am counting the days that my husband has left to live.

Does he realize my fears? I am grateful for every day that the weather is so bad that he and Colin cannot go boar hunting—to their bitter disappointment. Each day I wake up and look out the window and hope that if it is not snowing, the snow will at least still be there. One day, alas, it will not.

My husband is young and handsome, and will be that way for all eternity. I cannot sleep very well these days, and when sleep will not come, I light a candle and look at him. He is so young, so beautiful. I cannot believe that he entered into a marriage with me. I look at him and want to touch him, but do not for fear of waking him.

When I do sleep, I dream "the dream", the dream that I know spells the end of my life as I know it. No one will believe me when I tell them that Colin was responsible. If he offers to marry me, which I am certain he will, I will be urged to accept him. "Give your son a father," they will say, "You are too young to be a widow." I will plead my mourning period, hoping it will buy me a year, and give me a chance to find a way to escape Chateau La Mere and my husband's murderer.

If only I could arrange for Colin to die. I know he is waiting, like the patient spider of the Robert Burns poem, for his chance. And when it comes, it will all be over for me. No marriage, no happiness, only a child that I must not lose who will be heir to the Campbell lands and name. There will be no question whose child he is, and I am sure that "he" is a boy. I can feel it. I will make sure that he grows to manhood and claims his birthright.

I will not let Colin take his life as he did his father's. I've promised myself this. When Georgie is killed I will have to get away. I have a stash of gold and silver coins hidden behind a brick that will help pay my way. As soon as Colin announces his wish to marry me, I will have to run. I will have to be patient, I must not refuse him outright. I must be clever, lull him into thinking that I will agree. I cannot wait too long, though, I think I can still ride safely when I am five months gone, but after that I do not want to risk it. More than anything else, I do not want to endanger my baby.

I've been looking at maps, and I think that the Frazer lands will be my safest bet. When the weather gets better I must somehow get a message to Jamie and let him know my fears. I long for his comforting presence, his big arms and his warm breath on my hair. My son should be born in Chateau La Mere, but where he will be born, I do not know. In the long run, "where" will not matter, the Campbell lands are his birthright, and he will go back there some day to claim them.

At meals I am polite, even cordial. I smile at Colin's jokes, but keep carefully out of his reach. How can Georgie be so blind? Colin's every little nuanced gesture makes clear his attraction for me, try to hide it though he may. He covets his cousin's wife, but knows he cannot have her. There is only one way he thinks he may accomplish this, and I am on alert. I watch, oh how carefully I watch. My well being, my safety, my husband's safety is at stake, as well as that of our unborn child. How long would this child live if Colin succeeded in his plan?

February stayed cold, now March has come and the weather is slowly warming. The snow reduces in volume day by day, and soon we are out riding our restless horses. I ride the gelding Colin gave me to be polite, but I miss Birdie's unpredictable ways. The way the horses hooves sink into the ground indicates that it will be wet for some time to come, and it's also still cold. We've seen the end of the snow, most likely, but the rains will be starting—that cold, relentless, rainy weather that Scotland is so known for. It's cold and foggy in the morning, sometimes all day. If the fog keeps up, surely they can't go hunting.