The Fiery Cross - Diana Gabaldon [238]
Jamie rubbed a hand slowly over his face. This was a dilemma, all right; the militia company needed the men and supplies from Brownsville, but Jamie could scarcely conscript several Browns who would immediately attempt to assassinate Morton. Nor could he afford to pay Morton’s bounty himself. Jamie looked as though he were tempted to assassinate Morton personally, but I supposed this wasn’t a reasonable alternative.
“Perhaps Morton could be induced to marry the girl?” I suggested delicately.
“I thought of that,” Fergus said. “Regretfully, Monsieur Morton is already possessed of a wife in Granite Falls.” He shook his head, which was beginning to look like a small snowcapped hillock in his cap.
“Why did the Browns not follow yon Morton?” Jamie asked, apparently following his own train of thought. “If an enemy comes upon your land, and you wi’ your kin, ye dinna just let him flee; ye hunt him down and kill him.”
Fergus nodded, clearly familiar with this brand of Highland logic.
“I believe that was the intent,” he said. “They were distracted, however, by le petit Roger.”
I could hear a distinct note of amusement in his voice; so could Jamie.
“What did he do?” he asked warily.
“Sang to them,” Fergus said, the amusement becoming more pronounced. “He has been singing most of the night, and playing upon his drum. The entire village came to hear—there are six men of suitable age for the militia, and,” he added practically, “the two women avec lait, as I said, milady.”
Jamie coughed, wiped a hand under his nose, and nodded to Fergus, with a wave at me.
“Aye. Well, the wee lass must eat, and I canna stay back or the Browns will tumble to it that Morton’s here. Go and say to him that I shall come and speak to him as soon as may be.”
He reined his horse’s head toward the tavern, and I nudged Mrs. Piggy to follow.
“What are you going to do about the Browns?” I asked.
“Christ,” Jamie said, more to himself than to me. “How in hell should I know?” And coughed again.
32
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
OUR ARRIVAL with the baby created a sufficient sensation to distract everyone in Brownsville from their private concerns, be these practical or homicidal. A look of intense relief crossed Roger’s face at sight of Jamie, though this was instantly suppressed, replaced by a bland attitude of square-shouldered self-assurance. I ducked my head to hide a smile, and glanced at Jamie, wondering if he had noted this rapid transformation. He sedulously avoided my eye, indicating that he had.
“Ye’ve done well,” he said in a casual undertone, clapping Roger’s shoulder in greeting before turning to receive the salutations of the other men and introductions to our involuntary hosts.
Roger merely nodded in an offhand sort of way, but his face took on a muted glow, as though someone had lit a candle inside him.
Young Miss Beardsley caused a great stir; one of the nursing mothers was fetched and at once put the screeching baby to her breast, hastily handing me her own child in exchange. A three-month-old boy of placid temperament, he looked up at me with mild bewilderment, but seemed not to object to the substitution, merely blowing a few thoughtful spit bubbles in my direction.
A certain amount of confusion ensued, with everyone asking questions and offering speculations at once, but Jamie’s story—edited to terseness—of events at the Beardsley farm put a stop to the hubbub. Even the red-eyed young woman whom I recognized from Fergus’s story as Isaiah Morton’s inamorata forgot her grief, listening openmouthed.
“Poor little creature,” she said, peering at the baby as it suckled fiercely at her cousin’s breast. “So you have no parents at all, it seems.” Miss Brown cast a dark look at her own father, apparently thinking orphanhood had its advantages.
“What will become of her?” Mrs. Brown asked, with more practicality.
“Oh, we’ll see she’s taken good care of, my dear. She’ll find a secure place with us.” Her husband put a reassuring hand on her arm, at the same time exchanging a glance with his brother. Jamie saw it, too; I saw his mouth twitch