The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [75]
Roger is taken completely by surprise, and deeply shocked. After a brief and violent altercation, Jamie abandons him, insisting that Claire accompany him. He flings the opal at Roger’s feet, leaving Roger to make up his mind whether he can accept the coming child as his own, and be a decent husband to Bree—or whether he will go back through the stones of the circle he discovered on his way north with the Indians.
IN RIVER RUN, Lord John has arrived with news—Stephen Bonnet has been captured, and condemned to hang. Momentarily shocked by the news, Brianna comes to a decision; she must see Bonnet, she tells Lord John, and speak to him. Upon Lord John’s objection to this notion, she shows him the note Jamie left her upon his departure—urging her to find some way by which to forgive Bonnet, for the sake of her own peace. At first too angry with Jamie to listen to him, she has spent enough time alone to realize the wisdom of his words. So far she has found no way to forgive; if she sees the man, perhaps she can make peace with both him and herself.
Reluctantly, Lord John agrees, and takes her to the warehouse on the river—where the Crown stores imported liquor, as well as the turpentine, pitch, and other naval stores intended for the naval yards at Charleston—where Bonnet is held prisoner, in an underground cell.
His gaze stayed on her face, mildly curious.
“Have we business still to do then, darlin’?”
She took a deep breath—through her mouth, this time.
“They told me you’re going to hang.”
“They told me the same thing.” He shifted again on the hard wooden bench. He stretched his head to one side, to ease the muscles of his neck, and peered up sidelong at her. “You’ll not have come from pity, though, I shouldn’t think.”
“No,” she said, watching him thoughtfully. “To be honest, I’ll rest a lot easier once you’re dead.”
He stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. He laughed hard enough that tears came to his eyes; he wiped them carelessly, bending his head to swipe his face against a shrugged shoulder, then straightened up, the marks of his laughter still on his face.
“What is it you want from me, then?”
She opened her mouth to reply, and quite suddenly, the link between them dissolved. She had not moved, but felt as though she had taken one step across an impassable abyss. She stood now safe on the other side, alone. Blessedly alone. He could no longer touch her.
“Nothing, ”she said, her voice clear in her own ears. “I don’t want anything at all from you. I came to give you something. ”
She opened her cloak, and ran her hands over the swell of her abdomen. The small inhabitant stretched and rolled, its touch a blind caress of hand and womb, both intimate and abstract.
“Yours,” she said.
He looked at the bulge, and then at her.
“I’ve had whores try to foist their spawn on me before,” he said. But he spoke without viciousness, and she thought there was a new stillness behind the wary eyes.
“Do you think I’m a whore?” She didn’t care if he did or not, though she doubted he did. “I’ve no reason to lie. I already told you, I don’t want anything from you.”
She drew the cloak back together, covering herself. She drew herself up then, feeling the ache in her back ease with the movement. It was done. She was ready to go.
“You’re going to die,” she said to him, and she who had not come for pity’s sake was surprised to find she had some. “If it makes the dying easier for you, to know there’s something of you left on earth—then you’re welcome to the knowledge. But I’ve finished with you, now.”
Her departure is prevented, though, by the sudden appearance of Sergeant Murchison. Creeping down to the dungeon to join Bonnet, he has come upon and killed—evidently—Lord John, who lies in a boneless heap, facedown