Ignore Diana Gabaldon, think of all the wonderful Outlander fan fiction out there in the fanverse, and how much we'd miss it if it weren't written.
The men had not returned, my due date was growing closer, and it would be harder now to ride to see Geillis than it had been before. Riding in the cart was bumpy and uncomfortable, and before I reached my destination my back hurt unbearably. I was going to do something I absolutely did not want to do: I was going to take to my bed for the last month or so of my pregnancy.
The women of the castle found this perfectly reasonable, I hated the thought of it. I didn't even like to spend the day in bed if I was sick, and I was not sick all that often. Mary put in a supply of firewood, and procured a number of candles for me so I could spend my time reading. Colum leant me some books, and a portable writing desk so I could write while lying in bed. He promised to replace books as I read them, and he had a generous library so I would probably not run out of things to read. Even better, some of these would go out of print long before my own time, and I'd have the opportunity to read things that scholars only dream of.
"Normal" women in this era would be sewing their baby clothes, but I could not sew and was not about to bother to learn. The women of the castle pitched in, and everything from baby blankets to nappies was being made for me by loving hands, and the cradle that had sheltered young Hamish had been fetched and was being made ready for my own little one.
"Do ye have a name for it yet?" How many times did I hear that question? I couldn't bear to think that far ahead, but I promised myself his name would not be "George". I'd give him my own last name, unless that name proved a danger to both myself and him. By all rights he should have the surname "Campbell", but I did not want Collin to hear of him. If I knew of a neutral clan, I'd pick that name, but things around here did not lend to neutrality. Using the name "MacKenzie" seemed safest, and Colum seemed to agree.
I liked the name "Callum", and "Robert" seemed to fit as a middle name. "Callum Robert MacKenzie" seemed like a very good name, and that was how I was going to have him baptized. If he turned out to be a girl, I might name her "Campbell" and give her my mother's name, "Jaquetta" and "Louise" for a middle name. "Jaquetta Louise Campbell" might not arouse too much suspicion. Since my mother was Catholic, and I had nominally been baptized in the Catholic church (no Russian Orthodox churches being handy), I could have my baby baptized in the local church. Lord and Lady MacKenzie had consented to be godparents.
So far, I had things covered, I thought, then one day Geillis failed to show up and I wondered if my worst fears had been realized. Had her husband been aware that she was poisoning him? If so, my advice to her could prove fatal and I regretted advising her to stop, maybe the wise thing would have been for her to finish the job. Had she received word of an impending arrest and fled? If that was the case she could possibly succeed in getting away. Geillis was a smart girl, and could use her wits and her beauty on the British if they caught her.
But she was not well liked in the village. If her husband had recovered sufficiently and pressed for a trial, the villagers would not be kindly disposed towards her. My due date was getting close, and she was the only one I trusted to deliver my baby, though there were several women in Castle Leoch who would gladly help me, including the Lady.
Soon I realized that I hadn't seen Geillis for a week. I became concerned, knowing how precarious her situation might be. I ought to ride over and check on her, I told myself, I wouldn't go in that damned cart, but would I be able to ride? It wasn't like I couldn't sit up and walk around. It would be awkward with my big belly, but if someone could saddle a horse for me, I'd see if I could mount and dismount by myself. I'd have to take it slow, and my back was hurting, but I wouldn't be able to rest unless I knew she was all right, What a terrible time for the men to be gone, Jamie certainly would have obliged me, and John MacKenzie would have too, but he was with the men.
I hauled myself over to the edge of the bed, feeling unsteady after a day on my back. This baby must be a boy, my belly so big and he'd been active for the longest time. I've been around women in the villages, we'd even given one or two a ride to the hospital when it became obvious that they wouldn't be able to deliver safely on their own. I'd never really intended to have a child and only knew the basic knowledge of pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing had prepared me for this.
Mary came into my bedroom. "Mistress, what are you doing out of bed?" She didn't even give me a chance to argue, but steered me back into my comfortable bed and pulled up the quilts. "You ought to be resting," she told me severely, and with that look on her face, I knew it was no use arguing with her.
I motioned her closer to me, "It's Geillis Duncan, I'm worried about her. The women here don't like her, so there's no use talking to them. Someone needs to see what happened, listen to the village gossip, but don't take it for granted. There's a reason I'm worried, Mary, but it's best if you don't know. Can you use that MacKenzie nose of yours and see if you can figure out what's going on? Tell anyone who asks that I sent you to fetch some comfrey and peppermint from her—I use it for nausea. If you can get in the house, see if it looks like it hasn't been disturbed, if it has, you'll know. Can you do this for me?"
The look on my face must have convinced her. "Ay, mistress, if you want me to act a part, I'll do it for you. I don't much care for her myself, but she's taken good care of you, and for that, she has my concern, too. Just, please, promise me you'll rest."
I nodded my head. Mary was a good girl, and I could ask for no better. She had helped me escape, and kept an eye out for me so I knew what was going on. I couldn't tell her my secret, but I wondered if she could adjust to the twenty-first century, probably not, but I would miss her when I finally did leave. She and Georgie would hold a piece of my heart when life, at last, returned to normal.
The men came home that night, and I was in no shape to go downstairs. I promised myself I would start walking more so I would not feel so weak. I'd had as much bed rest as I wanted. I could hear, though, the sounds of voices, picking out the ones I recognized, hoping someone would come upstairs to see me since I couldn't be with the rest. It would be nice if Jamie would come to see me, but young Laoghaire might distract him into a corner. Couldn't much blame him, she was pretty and young. I'd fooled around with Jamie as much as I intended to, and now the baby would distract me from any more fun and games for a while.
"Someone to see you, mistress," Mary said brightly as she brought my supper to me on a tray. No, it was not Jamie, the someone peeking behind her was much shorter and dark—Angus had come to pay his respects.
"How's the bairn, ma'am?" he asked respectfully as he came into the room. Angus was a puzzle I hadn't yet figured out. He'd taken sort of a shine to me, but there was nothing but respect to it, no ambitions as far as I could tell. At first, I'd dismissed him as someone who saw the beauty with the long golden hair, but it wasn't that. It was, perhaps, a tentative friendship he offered to someone who had no one but her maid.
"I brought you something," he said and handed me bundle wrapped in cloth. Inside was a silver baptismal cup, and I was touched when I saw it.
"This is lovely," I said as I inspected it, "This must have been expensive, I hope..."
"Ah," he said, "It was one of those things that I didn't have to pay for if you catch my drift."
"Oh," I said, then laughed, "Well, I'm glad you thought of me, then. When he grows up, I'll make sure he knows who gave it to him, and appreciate it the more."
He tipped his hat and almost scurried out of the room. "Don't tell me I've made a conquest, Mary, that's trouble I don't need. So, any news from the men?"
"Oh, ay, but not much, it seems they found a Beaton and brought her back with them." I thought about the Joan Baez song, "There's Mary Beaton and Mary Seton..."
"A Beaton, ma'am, a healer. Jamie says she was dressed in the oddest clothes, barely covered, but she seemed like a daecent woman."
The hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle. "Where did they find her, did he say?"
"Near Inverness, near Cragh Na Dun," Mary replied, "I've not seen her yet, but if she's a healer, would you like to talk to her?"
My heart was starting to pound. Inverness was where Georgie had found me. I'd been sucked into the eighteenth century by a power that could only have come from the stone I had fallen asleep in front of. I had to talk to her, find out if it really was the same place.
"Mary, could you ask Mrs. Fitz if she would send her to me tomorrow, let the poor thing get settled in first, of course. Now that Geillis has disappeared, maybe she might be willing to help." Mary nodded and turned to go, "Oh, and Mary?"
"Yes, ma'am?" she asked.
"See if you can find Jamie, and ask him to come see me if young Laoghaire isn't keeping him too busy. If not today, tomorrow for certain."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied, and I began to eat. Eating somehow was a comfort, but I was making sure I did not overeat. I didn't have a real doctor, I had no idea how much I weighed. No blood pressure gauge, but I felt all right so I wasn't worried about that. Up until a few weeks ago, I'd been as active as I possibly could. I wished now that I'd read up on pregnancy, except for those village women, I had no experience with it.
The baby started to move, something he did (and I still thought of him as "he") when I ate. He seemed strong, healthy, and had finally dropped, so I knew the birth was not far off. Geillis had told me he was in the right position, so barring anything unusual, this should be an ordinary delivery, for which I was very grateful.
Where was she, anyway? I hoped that nothing had happened. If she had escaped from her husband, that was a good thing. I didn't ask anyone in the castle, no one seemed to care for her anyway. Poor Geillis, for all of her beauty and self-confidence, she seemed like an orphan, so out of place.
I sighed and pushed my plate away. I picked up a copy of Plato's "The Republic". Had it only been a few months since Georgie told me it was his favorite book? I was deep into reading "The Parable of the Cave" when I heard a light tapping at my door.
Jamie stood, all six-foot-three of him, smiling. He came and kissed me, and put his hand on my belly. "Any time now, yes?" He seemed as proud as if he were the father.
"Any time," I agreed, and thought about Geillis, "Jamie, check on Geillis Duncan, sooner than later, if you can. I need to know if she is all right, I'm worried. I know there are women who can act as midwife, and Geillis assured me this would be an unremarkable delivery, but she's the one I trust. It's been over a week since I've heard from her, and that is not like her. She's been so helpful, and I like her." I finished, helplessly.
"Yes, I promise, if you're fretting it's no good for the baby, but someone is here who might help you."
"The new Beaton?" I queried.
"Ay, though she calls herself a nurse. I'm sure she'd come and see you, do you want me to ask? She's not busy right now, I think, she might not mind."
"If you ask her nicely, and makes sure she's up to it," I replied, emphasizing that she must feel like it. I felt shameless over what I was about to do.
He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, "Yes, madam," he said and smiled, "I'll see if she's willing to be fetched."
"Take my tray," I told him, and he picked it up without objection. I needed Mary in her if I did get to talk to this strange new person.
Mary came in with a bottle of wine, a gift from Colum. Soon Jamie returned, a brown-haired woman, around my age, I guessed, on his arm.
"This is Clair," he said, "I'll leave the two of you, Mary can fetch me if you need me." Mary closed the door behind him.
Clair was frightened but holding her own. I looked at Mary, "You're going to hear some things you won't believe, but do you promise to remain silent?" Mary nodded, my good girl and friend.
I looked at Clair, "What you say to me won't go beyond these doors. Don't bother lying to me, I have a tale to tell that may be as strange as yours." I leaned close to her as I asked her my next question, "What year was it when you came through the stones?"
Her face turned white as I asked her, and I knew I had my answer.