Dragonfly in Amber - Diana Gabaldon [280]
“Jamie,” I said, after a time, “who hurt Ian?”
He didn’t open his eyes, but gave a long sigh before answering. He didn’t stiffen in resistance, though; he had been expecting the question.
“I did,” he said.
“What?” I dropped his hand in shock. He closed his fist and opened it, testing the movement of his fingers. Then he laid his left hand on the counter-pane beside it, showing me the knuckles, slightly puffed by contact with the protuberances of Ian’s bony countenance.
“Why?” I said, appalled. I could tell that there was something new and edgy between Jamie and Ian, though it didn’t look exactly like hostility. I couldn’t imagine what might have made Jamie strike Ian; his brother-in-law was nearly as close to him as was his sister, Jenny.
Jamie’s eyes were open now, but not looking at me. He rubbed his knuckles restlessly, looking down at them. Aside from the mild bruising of his knuckles, there were no marks on Jamie; apparently Ian hadn’t fought back.
“Well, Ian’s been married too long,” he said defensively.
“I’d say you’d been out in the sun too long,” I remarked, staring at him, “except that there isn’t any. Have you got a fever?”
“No,” he said, evading my attempts to feel his forehead. “No, it’s only—stop that, Sassenach, I’m all right.” He pressed his lips together, but then gave up and told me the whole story.
Ian had in fact broken his wooden leg by stepping into a molehole near Broch Mordha.
“It was near evening—we’d had a lot to do in the village—and snowing. And I could see Ian’s leg was paining him a lot, even though he kept insisting he could ride. Anyway, there were two or three cottages near, so I got him up on one of the ponies, and brought him up the slope to beg shelter for the night.”
With characteristic Highland hospitality, both shelter and supper were offered with alacrity, and after a warm bowl of brose and fresh oatcake, both visitors had been accommodated with a pallet before the fire.
“There was scarce room to lay a quilt by the hearth, and we were squeezed a bit, but we lay down side by side and made ourselves as comfortable as might be.” He drew a deep breath, and looked at me half-shyly.
“Well, I was worn out by the journey, and slept deep, and I suppose Ian did the same. But he’s slept every night wi’ Jenny for the last five years, and I suppose, havin’ a warm body next to him in the bed—well, somewhere in the night, he rolled toward me, put his arm about me and kissed me on the back o’ the neck. And I”—he hesitated, and I could see the deep color flood his face, even in the grayish light of the snow-lit room—“I woke from a sound sleep, thinking he was Jack Randall.”
I had been holding my breath through this story; now I let it out slowly.
“That must have been the hell of a shock,” I said.
One side of Jamie’s mouth twitched. “It was the hell of a shock to Ian, I’ll tell ye,” he said. “I rolled over and punched him in the face, and by the time I came all the way to myself, I was on top of him, throttling him, wi’ his tongue sticking out of his head. Hell of a shock to the Murrays in the bed, too,” he added reflectively. “I told them I’d had a nightmare—well, I had, in a way—but it caused the hell of a stramash, what wi’ the bairns shriekin’, and Ian choking in the corner, and Mrs. Murray sittin’ bolt upright in bed, sayin’ ‘Who, who?’ like a wee fat owl.”
I laughed despite myself at the image.
“Oh God, Jamie. Was Ian all right?”
Jamie shrugged a little. “Well, ye saw him. Everyone went back to sleep, after a time, and I just lay before the fire for the rest of the night, staring at the roof beams.” He didn’t resist as I picked up his left hand, gently stroking the bruised knuckles. His fingers closed over mine, holding them.
“So when we left the next morning,” he went on, “I waited ’til we’d come to a spot where ye can sit and look over the valley below. And then”—he swallowed, and his hand tightened slightly on mine—“I told him. About Randall. And everything that happened.”
I began to understand the ambiguity of the look Ian had given Jamie. And I now understood the look