The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [38]
“That’ll teach ye to go about thinkin’ the worst of my character,” he said, with apparent satisfaction. Taking pity on his quivering brother-in-law, Jamie poured out a tot of brandy and handed him the glass. “Judge not, and ye’ll no be judged, eh?”
Ian has come in search of his youngest son, Young Ian. Chafing under the restrictions of life at Lallybroch, and longing for adventure, Young Ian has run away, leaving word that he has gone to Edinburgh— presumably to join his adored uncle. Jamie disclaims knowledge of Young Ian’s whereabouts, but promises to go with his brother-in-law at once, to make inquiries and to carry out his own mysterious business. Claire’s dress was damaged in the riot at the tavern; with nothing to wear, she has little choice but to remain in bed, awaiting both breakfast and Jamie’s return.
Instead of breakfast, she receives more visitors: first Mr. Willoughby, who tells her the story of how “Tsei-mi” saved his life— and then a very unexpected Young Ian, Jamie’s fourteen-year-old nephew, in search of his uncle. Finding what he assumes is Jamie’s mistress abed, he blushes, stammers, and disappears.
In the wake of these visitations, Claire determines to find some clothes and venture forth; wrapped in a quilt, she has breakfast with a number of amiable prostitutes, who mistake her for Madame Jeanne’s newest recruit.
“Tsk!” murmured Mollie, seeing the proprietor. “An early customer. I hate it when they come in the middle o’ breakfast,” she grumbled. “Stop ye digesting your food proper, it does.”
“Ye needn’t worry, Mollie; it’s Claire’ll have to take him, ”Peggy said, tossing her dark plait out of the way. “Newest lass takes the ones no one wants,” she informed me.
“Stick your finger up his bum,” Dorcas advised me. “That brings ’em off faster than anything. I’ll save ye a bannock for after, if ye like.”
“Er… thanks,” I said. Just then, Madame Jeanne’s eye lit upon me, and her mouth dropped open in a horrified “O.”
Hastily removed to a small room to dress, Claire overhears a conversation between the Madame and her doorman; there has been a murder in Edinburgh—another murder. The Edinburgh Fiend has claimed another victim; this one, a chambermaid from the brothel, who has just been found beheaded in her lodgings nearby.
Hearing this, Claire is seized by uneasiness; Jamie still has not returned from his mysterious errand, and his nephew Ian is also evidently wandering about the city, alone. Meanwhile, an air of urgency pervades the brothel. Where is everyone, and what’s going on?
Her questions are interrupted by the sudden arrival of a handsome man with dark hair, a hook replacing his missing hand—and a very familiar face. Recognition comes to both of them, and Claire is overjoyed to be reunited with Fergus, whom she had last seen as a boy. The rapture is short-lived:
“There ye are! What in the name of God are ye doing up here, Fergus?” Jamie’s tall figure loomed suddenly in the doorway. His eyes widened at the sight of me in my embroidered shift. “Where are your clothes?” he asked. “Never mind,” he said then, waving his hand impatiently as I opened my mouth to answer. “I havena time just now. Come along, Fergus, there’s eighteen ankers of brandy in the alleyway, and the excisemen on my heels!”
And with a thunder of boots on the wooden stairs, they were gone, leaving me alone once more.
Coming cautiously downstairs in her borrowed shift and a shawl, Claire meets a strange man in the doorway to the kitchen. He accosts her, asking about contraband and mentioning rewards; an exciseman, she thinks, and backs away from him, wondering how to escape and warn Jamie. The exciseman seizes her by the arm, but is in turn accosted by Mr. Willoughby, standing on the stairs—with a loaded pistol.
The Chinese, still much the worse for drink, shoots the supposed Customs agent, who promptly dies in Claire’s lap. Fergus reappears, followed by Jamie, who quickly takes charge of the situation, bundling the body