Chapter 16: One Fine Day
In this chapter, twitterpated Jamie is barf-inducingly adorable.
The hard-won intimacy of the night seemed to have to have evaporated with the dew, and there was considerable constraint between us in the morning.
This is True.
They dance around one another for a while. Eventually, Claire urges Jamie to speak up on grounds of their "honesty" vow.
It was unfair, but I couldn't really stand any more nervous throat-clearing and eye-twitching.
Bless.
"I was going to say," he said softly, "that I hoped the man who had the honor to lie first wi' you was as generous as you were with me."
Awww. That's really sweet actually. Also, is he not assuming that Frank was the first person Claire slept with? If so, that is both surprising and endearing. Also, Starz, where is my Teen Claire, Sex-Positive Archaeologist spinoff?
They cute around for another few paragraphs. Then Claire asks why Jamie is hanging with Dougal anyway, instead of going to the Frasers. A good question, considering what a jerk Dougal is to him.
Answer:
"Well, for a time after—after I left the Fort, I didna care much . . . about anything. My father died about that time, and my sister . . . Dougal told me that—that my sister was wi' child. By Randall."
Hrm. I think I missed this wrinkle in the show. I know Jamie thought that Randall had fathered Jenny's child, but I don't think I realized that it was Dougal who had poured this particular poison in Jamie's ear. Christ, what an asshole.
Also:
"Dougal told me that she . . . that after the child was born, she . . . well, of course, she couldna help it; she was alone—damn it, I left her alone! He said she had taken up wi' another English soldier, someone from the garrison, he didna know which one."
Now, granted, Dougal's fuckery knows no limits. Seriously, fuck that guy. But this isn't really a shining moment for Jamie either. I guess it's one of those 18th-century things, where a woman who has been defiled is so toxic that looking at her will burn your eyes out of your head, but still. If you really believe that your sister was impregnated by her rapist and is now trading sex for protection with her hated enemies, maybe you should, I dunno, go help her out? And I get that seeing her again would make him feel the depths of his own shame and that he still hasn't worked through his emotions about his father's death and all. But honestly, help your sister. No use practicing humility in a monastery for months on end if you come out just as Proud as you went in.
In any case, Jamie came back to Scotland because he heard about an English deserter named Horrocks who had witnessed the murder Jamie is accused of committing. And Horrocks is staying with someone who is connected to the MacKenzies, so Jamie came to the MacKenzies to try to get information that might lead to a pardon.
Except that then Jamie got hit on the head with an ax and nearly died.
"I wondered afterward, ye know, whether perhaps [Dougal] had done it."
Claire is puzzled by this, but Jamie explains that Dougal is worried that Jamie might challenge him for leadership of clan MacKenzie when Colum dies. Fair enough.
Jamie doesn't want to be laird:
"I havena the taste for power at the cost of other men's blood."
He explains how all this relates to the goings-on during the oathtaking, etc. etc. political machinations, dangerous uncles, etc. etc.
And this:
"You'd make a verra poor spy, Sassenach. Everything ye think shows on your face, plain as day . . . I asked ye for honesty last night, but it wasna really necessary; it isna in you to lie."
As with Frank's assessment that Claire is "terrifyingly practical," we shall see how this holds up over time.
After a brief glimpse of the vaguely threatening Watch, Claire and Jamie head out on a Highland picnic. Claire contemplates their chances of success if they were to run away together but, judging them poor, settles in for some fishing lessons.
Met one month, married one day. Bound by vows and by blood. And by friendship as well. When the time came to leave, I hoped that I would not hurt him too badly.
Claire, nobody believes you are going to run away. Give it a rest.
Jamie catches a fish for Claire and I would make jokes about his "holding out a solid fourteen-incher," but the truth is that this is all very sweet and charming.
I had time, watching him declaim, to reflect on the oddity of sitting on a rock in a Scottish pool, listening to Gaelic love songs, with a large dead fish in my lap. And the greater oddity that I was enjoying myself very much.
Surely, some calamity lurks on the next page, because this is all too idyllic to last.
I could feel the shyness and constraint beginning to creep back. I reached out a hand and grasped his tightly, hoping that the touch would reestablish the ease between us as it had before.
I am really enjoying the attention that Gabaldon lavishes on this uncomfortable aspect of new love.
Sensing the awkwardness, Jamie surmises that Claire is thinking of Frank and (wisely) begins to ask non-threatening questions about him.
Claire compares the two men in her mind, reflecting that it would be "difficult to imagine a greater contrast" between them. They are different in body type, complexion, personality, age . . .
Wait a minute. Frank is 15 years older than Jamie? So Jamie is 23, Claire is 27, and Frank is 38? That means that Frank was about 30 when he married 19-year-old Claire. I mean, ok, I guess. But if my 19-year-old sister announced she was marrying a 30-year-old man, we would probably have a chat about that. It's no big deal at 27 and 38. But someone my age marrying a teenager? I guess it was a different time and all. Also, Claire never went to college, I guess. I suppose nurse's training during WWII?
Also this:
"As a lover, Frank was polished, sophisticated, considerate, and skilled."
As far as I am concerned, these are all synonyms for "A+ Oral." Therefore, my belief in TV Canon is vindicated.
As for Jamie:
Lacking experience or the pretense of it, Jamie simply gave me all of himself, without reservation. And the depth of my response to that unsettled me completely.
I know our romantic hero is supposed to be sexxxy, but really, this is just adorbs. He's like a puppy.
I had kissed my share of men, particularly during the war years, when flirtation and instant romance were the light-minded companions of death and uncertainty.
Now, wait just a minute, missy. You got all huffy-offended when Frank tried to ask whether you'd slept with anybody during the war. If I recall correctly, it was all,
"Do you think I've been unfaithful to you? Do you? Because if so, you can leave this room this instant. Leave the house altogether! How dare you imply such a thing?"
That's a pretty high level of outrage if the real story is, "No, I didn't sleep with anybody, but I did make out with 'my share of men.'" No shame in kissing other people, especially given the circumstances. But damn, in retrospect, a little harsh on poor Frank when he tried to broach the subject.
My mouth opened beneath his, wholeheartedly accepting both promise and challenge without consulting me.
Ok, first, your mouth does not have a heart. Second, your mouth and your heart are both connected to your brain, so don't go around deflecting responsibility for your actions. Kiss him, by all means, but take some responsibility, woman.
Besotted Jamie continues ratcheting up the cuteness:
"It is a gift and a wonder to me, to know that I can please you—that your body can rouse to mine. I hadna thought of such a thing—beforehand."
In fact, I am glad that I saw the TV show before reading this because I know that his character will have additional facets at some point. In context, lovestruck Jamie is just one aspect of his personality, and I have seen that he is perfectly capable of being vain, pigheaded, and stupid. Which is good, because the rosy-tinted, punch-drunk, lovey-dovey thing has a short shelf life. Not that I object to Jamie being emotionally vulnerable and open with Claire. I'm just glad I know that there is more than marshmallows and rainbows ahead for them. Also, good luck on the not hurting him when you leave, Claire.
And off they go, sexing in the underbrush.
"If you say 'thank you' once more, I will slap you."
See, Claire knows what I'm talking about.
Lying in the weeds, watching Jamie sleep, Claire finally confronts the fact that she actually likes him. Not loves — she counts this as an "infatuation." But, unlike the harmless crushes of the war years, now she has "been forced to act on it."
And God only knew what harm might be done by that action. But there was no turning back from this point.
Except your plan to escape, right? I mean, you do plan to turn back in a literal way. Right?
Well, I thought, the action had been taken, and it was far past the time for restraint. Nothing I did now could make matters worse, for either of us.
Um, no. Claire. A short list of things that could make this worse for both of you:
- Pregnancy
- You falling in love with him
- Pregnancy
- Him falling deeper in love with you, though I confess that seems like a done deal at this point
- IF YOU KEEP FUCKING HIM, YOU ARE GOING TO GET PREGNANT, WHICH WILL BE A MAJOR STEP UP IN THE COMPLICATIONS DEPARTMENT
Yes, Claire may believe she is infertile, but that is based on dubious evidence. She and Frank were separated for the majority of their marriage, so they may have just been unlucky. And even if one of them is infertile, it's just as likely to be Frank as Claire. I guess we will find out, since Claire, A NURSE, has approximately the same understanding of human fertility as a highschooler from an abstinence-only state.
And what happens if she gets pregnant? Can you go through the stones pregnant? Would she even try? Would she leave a baby behind?
In any event, let's give a round of applause to Diana Gabaldon, who can write a pretty hot blow job scene without using the words "penis" or "mouth" or any of their synonyms or euphemisms. Like one of those novels that goes 100,000 words without ever using the letter "e."
The lovers head back to the inn. Jamie reveals that he made Dougal agree to three conditions before he would marry Claire:
- Jamie and Claire would stay at the inn for a few days while Dougal completed his business in the vicinity (thoughtful and practical)
- They would have a "proper" wedding in a church, with a priest (Ok, I guess, though I have already opined on the necessity of their public vows vs. their private vows. Also, Claire would probably have been ok with skipping that particular church. So the ceremony seems to be for his sake, which may tell us something about his personal beliefs.)
- Claire had to have a pretty dress so that everything would be "as pleasant as might be for you" (A sweet thought. It would be pretty far down my list of desires in that situation, but that's me. Claire seems to have appreciated it.)
The price of food was company . . .
Back in the inn, Jamie and Claire are in for some good-natured ribbing, but they take it in stride. There is food and drink and wild dancing and everyone has a jolly time. Jamie hands all his money over to the innkeeper to keep the whisky flowing, but Rupert presents him with another purse as a wedding gift. Rupert seems like a good guy. Crude, but kind.
Then back up to the private room. Jamie starts fawning over Claire's hair, and I grow impatient. Staaaaaahp. We all know Jamie is dreamy. Does he really need to spend quite so much time reassuring Claire and assuaging her insecurities? I guess he gets a one-day grace period to be all calf-eyed and smitten. And then we will have to remember that there are conflicts around here somewhere.
There is a lot of mushy dialogue here. Plus pet names. Jamie calls Claire "mo duinne," which I'm pretty sure is not what he calls her in the show, but then, I have not quite worked out Gaelic's funhouse phonics, so it could be.
"Rather a dull color, brown, I've always thought."
Now you're just fishing for compliments, Claire.
But in all this, we do get a discussion that brought my eyes back from rolling around. Jamie notes that the MacKenzies still haven't worked out whether she's an English spy or a French spy or some other sort of spy, as no theory fits all the facts.
"And what about you?" I asked, pulling hard at a stubborn tangle. "What do you think I am?"
He tilted his head appraisingly, looking me over more carefully.
Not French; apparently, Jamie is fluent in French and can tell that Claire isn't a native speaker. Not Spanish either, nor German. Jamie has noticed that Claire's English is "more than a little odd," but it seems that the marriage was also sort of a test. She didn't run away, which is evidence against her being an English spy. I think I see a flaw in this reasoning — she could just be a very committed spy, willing to take one for the team, as it were. Conclusion:
"Damned if I know, Sassenach. Damned if I know. There isna any reasonable explanation I can think of for you. You might be one of the Wee Folk, for all I know . . . no, I suppose not. You're too big."
Let's brainstorm some more plausible explanations for Claire's presence in Scotland:
- She is fleeing an unhappy marriage or engagement in England, possibly to someone powerful enough that it would be worth turning her over if she were discovered.
- She has been convicted of a crime and is fleeing prison/execution/maiming/transportation.
- She is looking for someone — maybe her little sister is a runaway bride or a convicted murderer.
- Shipwrecked. With a dark secret.
- Whatever. Fairies is probably close enough. Bedtime!
Though it is an interesting question: How does Jamie explain Claire to himself? At the moment, he does not care very much beyond OMG: Sex, Who Knew?, but that will not be satisfying for very long. Since I have seen the TV show, I know that she eventually tells him about the time travel, but that doesn't fully answer the question either. Ok, she's a time traveler. What does that mean? Who is she? Why can she travel when others can't? Does she have other supernatural powers? Is she in control of her travel? Or is she getting tossed around Dr. Sam Beckett-style? I support the addition of holograms to this series.
"Aren't you afraid I might kill you in your sleep some night, if you don't know who I am?"
Well, I am now.
But Jamie just laughs this off and gives her his dirk and some tips on stabbing technique.
"Sassenach?"
I stopped, dirk still in my hand.
"What?"
"I'll die a happy man."
And that concludes the saccharine overload that is this chapter.
Body Count:
Jamie: 3 + assorted redcoats + two years as mercenary in France