"I said she will not be going! She is my daughter, and she belongs here. How dare you try to take her away from me!"
"Ye told me to get the lass married and that is what I mean to do! I am not stealing her off to Edinburgh to spite you."
"Ha! There it is, you want to take my eldest child away from her home to marry some stranger from a city she has never even been to."
"Damn it, woman! Yer twisting my words. Marsali does not care for any of the boys here, they're not good enough for her and you know that."
"She doesna need good, she needs someone that will stay and provide for her!"
"Stay? You think I dinna try to stay? I begged you to let me stay. You turned me out from your bed, what else was I to do?"
"But ye didna stay, did ye? You and that French bastard were all too happy to move to Edinburgh!" My mouth grew sour at hearing the word 'bastard'.
"Shut yer mouth! I told ye to never call him that, ever! He is my son, mine. I raised him since he was a lad, and I named him."
Ma scoffed, "What a lot of good you did him getting yerself locked up in Ardsmuir. He might have had both hands if not for ye." Jamie did not respond, but rather took to tossing things about and causing furniture to crash down onto the floor. My breath caught in my throat at the sound. He had never before lost his temper in this way. I had also never known my mother to be so cruel. Joanie and I clutched each other's hands on the landing and tried to picture what was being thrown around downstairs. I whispered reassurance and tried to pull her into me to block her ears.
When we heard heavy footsteps coming towards the stairs we scrambled to our feet and lunged towards our bedroom, not out of fear for Jamie, but fear that our mother would know we were listening. "Marsali, pack your things. We leave tomorrow morning," he said, somewhat out of breath and red in the face from his exertions.
"But Ma said..."
"I am your father and I say this is what's best." He shut the door behind him as he left, and sure enough when I went to the window I could see him striding across the grass towards the barn where Fergus waited. Joan surprised me by taking the lead in dragging our traveling bag out from under my bed and asking what dresses I needed. I was shaking, whether from excitement, anger, or fear I had no idea.
"I dinna ken, just pack them all."
The next morning I said a tearful goodbye to mother and promised to write when we arrived. I would only be away for a month, but this was the longest and furthest I had ever been way from home. Joan ran alongside us for as long as her legs would carry her. When she couldn't keep up, I made Fergus stop the horses to hug her one last time and send her home. She had wandered out so far from the house. I cried when we lost sight of her trudging back over the hills towards Balriggan.
"She'll be alright, lass. Soon she'll be playing with her dolls and forget all about ye being gone."
Fergus whipped the reins and urged the horses to move faster. I was grateful he had kept them at a slow walk for as long as he did. We followed Loch Ness for many days before veering off into the Lowlands. It was a difficult journey, and after departing the shores of Loch Ness we had to sleep rough for many nights. Jamie and Fergus slept nearby, alternating taking turns on watch. The Highlands were safer now than they were right after the '45, but Lord knows what sort of beasts were lurking in the forests.
One night, Jamie had fallen asleep before Fergus and I, so we stayed up talking. He told me about Prestonpans, and how he led the Lallybroch men home from Culloden again. I had heard the tale countless times, but Auntie Jenny always said talking helped you heal. She said when Jamie came home from Culloden, she talked his ear off until he finally gave in and told them everything.
"Tell me more about Paris," I pleaded hoping it would remind him of our conversation the other night at Lallybroch. We had not spoken of it since, and I wondered if he had forgotten.
"You think Edinburgh is a big city, but Paris is so much bigger than Edinburgh. I would wander the streets for hours, always finding something new. I will take you one day to Notre Dame. Your Da and I went once, many years ago. He made me sit through an entire mass, and then he made me confess to the priest!"
"What did you confess?" He smiled and shook his head.
"Non. That is between me, and God, and the priest that nearly had a heart attack when I walked into that box and began shouting to where I thought God was in the ceiling.
"I am not a child you know, you can tell me."
He did not seem like he wanted to tell me, but then he began. "I hope this does not change the way you think of me. I was born in a brothel... to one of the ladies. I never knew which one, but they were all like a mother to me." Suddenly his stories made more sense— the vivid details, the familiarity.
"That isna your fault though."
"I suppose so. It was a hard life, I stole things. There were a lot of boys like me in Paris, stealing for our next meal. I always knew I would lose a hand when I was younger because I was always reaching into our client's pockets and taking whatever I wanted. Sometimes I did not know why, the ladies always fed me and gave me a place to sleep at night. Only one time did I really get caught in the act."
"Da?"
"Oui. I was terrified. Lucky for me though, my skillset was something he needed, and I have been with him ever since."
"Did he name you Fergus?'
He laughed and nodded, "Do you want to know my real name?" I nodded and leaned in closer. "It was Claudel. Not verra manly is what your father said."
"What did you do for him in Paris? You pickpocketed?"
"You could say that. It was very hard times. Rebellion was brewing, you could feel the tension everywhere in the streets. Your father would point me in a direction and tell me what man had what papers that he needed. I stole letters and handed them over to milord. He and Murtaugh, his godfather, and Milady would look at them for hours, deciphering the codes they were written in. I was never very good at that part. I only learned how to read from your Auntie Jenny after Culloden. But I did always return the documents to their rightful place before anyone noticed they were gone."
"That is incredible, it sounds like an adventure story."
"Hm. I suppose it was. I should not keep you awake, we have another long day tomorrow." He sidled over to a spot decently far away from me.
"I still dinna think those are sins. You were only doing what you had to do."
"Aye, what I had to do. Maybe you would make a good priest. You are very forgiving of this poor urchin boy. Goodnight, Marsali."
After many more days of slow travel, I saw the outline of Edinburgh. Sitting on top of a hill was the biggest cathedral I had ever seen in my life. Jamie leaned over and said, "Just you wait. Tomorrow we can go see the Palace of Holyroodhouse, and Edinburgh Castle." Everything looked so grand, I began to fuss at my clothes and hair, wishing I had something more fashionable... and wishing I knew what was fashionable.
"And I will take you to the French bakery!" Fergus chirped, oblivious to my unease.
"Aye, you two can do that when we get back. I have some urgent business to attend to." I marveled at the ever-growing city before us until we were inside of it. There was so much energy in the streets, with hundreds of people shouting and going about their lives. I could not believe the cart was able to maneuver without hitting anyone. "Here we are. Fergus, you take care of Marsali. Bring her back home right after."
"Oui, Milord." Fergus extended a hand to help me down from the cart. My legs were stiff after a long day, and week, of sitting on the wooden bench. We made our way through the crowd to a building that smelled of fresh bread and sugar. My mouth was watering before we reached the door. Fergus's hand was still lightly gripping mine. "Will you let me order, or do you want to choose something?" Just looking in through the window, I was overwhelmed by the selection.
"Can you choose, please?" He laughed and ordered Lord knows what with foreign sounding names. As he spoke to the woman, his hand wandered across the counters' surface, as if seeking out something that was invisible to everyone but him. It was curious. He brushed every object in reach with his fingers as he chatted comfortably with the woman, as if taking stock. He threw a coin down to pay for his purchases and led me back out the door into the pleasantly sunny afternoon.
"This is a baguette, our classic bread. A macaron, and finally, my favorite, the millefeuille." I took bites out of everything and leaned back, satisfied.
"I wish I could eat a macaron every day for the rest of my life."
"If you stay with us, you can." He cleared his throat and shrugged, while taking another bite of the baguette. He brushed crumbs off of his pant leg and stood up. "We had better get back to Milord. He will think you were kidnapped." I took his arm again, although he had not offered it.
"Thank you for today. I wish I could go to Paris now."
"You would love it, I promise I will take you one day" I smiled and nodded, embarrassed at the thought of just the two of us traveling to far off lands.
Feeling emboldened by the sugar and lively atmosphere of the city, I suddenly asked, "Fergus, am I... pretty?"
"Of course, why would you ask such a thing?" I eyed the other women brushing past us on the street, colorful skirts swaying in rhythm with their steps. They seemed so mature and well dressed. By comparison, my own clothes felt dull and worn out. They were good clothes having come from Inverness, but this was Edinburgh. I wanted to look the part of being a sophisticated city woman.
"I think if I'm to stay here I'll need some new clothes."
"Hm, I understand. I can talk to your father about taking you to get new dresses. He would not know where to go to shop for a young lady," I smiled sheepishly in appreciation for his understanding.
"There ye are! Fergus, come in here and help me for a moment. The press is stuck."
I followed Fergus through the door and walked about the print shop. There were broadsheets and pamphlets, book pages, and more scattered around the many tables laid out. Jamie and Fergus struggled to fix the stubborn machine. Da was pulling on a wee stick with both hands, while Fergus pushed at something underneath the machine. They both grunted and strained under the effort, and then Fergus cried out. He was doubled over, clutching his hand to his chest as I had seen him do so often, but it was not the wooden hand.
"Fergus, are ye alright, lad? Jamie grabbed Fergus' right hand from where he held it against his body. "It's just a cut. Marsali, bring that linen over here and help me wrap it. Dinna fash." Fergus' breath was coming out in shaky gasps.
"I'm sorry, Milord, my hand slipped. It's this damn wooden hand," he said, banging it against the press. I took his hand to wrap the linen strip around it. A deep gash stretched across his hand sideways, just at the base of his palm where it had been crushed by the metal bits of the press. Jamie gripped Fergus' shoulder tight to keep him. His chest was heaving from trying to contain his ragged breathing, and his hand trembled as I wrapped the linen around his wrist.
"Ye willna lose another hand under my watch, lad," Jamie said in a hushed, calming tone. As soon as the bandage was in place, he yanked his hand out of my grasp. He had refused to look at me once throughout the whole ordeal.
"Yes, Milord. I think I will go to... I would like to go for a walk." Fergus replaced his hat on his head and stormed out of the shop.
"Is he alright? Should we follow him?"
"No, let the man be. There are some injuries ye never heal from," Da said, rubbing the stiff fingers on his left hand. "It pains him still, ye ken? Uncle Ian is the same with his leg. They still feel it even now." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I had no idea his hand would still hurt him, even when it isn't there. Jamie returned to the press and I followed the stairs back up to the second level of the shop where our rooms were. Fergus and Jamie would share Fergus' room and I would have the main bedroom to myself. This would be my first night sleeping alone since Joanie was born. I laid down on the bed and before I knew it, I was sound asleep.