It took nearly a fortnight for John's letter to reach his mother, Benedicta, and then subsequently another fortnight for her reply to arrive in Edinburgh. We all spent that time getting to know one another, and, on several occasions, Da, Roger, Fergus, and Ian would take Willie to see various sites around the Old Town. One day, they took him horseback riding around the wilds of the town, so that he could learn the art of hunting stag. Another day, they walked along the Royal Mile, while Roger regaled Willie with the interesting happenings throughout. They also went to see Edinburgh Castle, as well as the Palace of Holyrood, both of which Willie deemed were very impressive indeed.

During this time, Mama tended to various patients through Da's contacts in the area, while Brianna acted as a chaperone for myself and John. John told me more about his family, specifically about his sister-in-law, Minnie, who had met his brother, Hal, not long after the latter had become a widower. He had encountered her in his study one evening, and the pair had promptly made love, only for Hal to be shocked when she disappeared the following day. It had then taken him eight months to locate her, and, when he did, she was expecting their firstborn son, Benjamin. The pair had ultimately married immediately thereafter, welcoming two more sons, Adam and Henry, as well as a daughter, Dorothea, called Dottie, whom John had been named godfather of.

"She is quite flirtatious, that one," John observed, shaking his head.

"How old is she now?" I asked.

"Dottie? She is eight," he replied.

I smiled at the notion that he seemed quite fond of her. "You have the air of a proud uncle about you," I said, openly grinning at him.

John huffed slightly, but returned my smile. "I do know that Minnie so craved a daughter, so it was a relief when Dottie finally joined us," he said.

"Do you want a daughter?" I found myself asking.

John immediately turned to face me, eyes wide. "What?"

"Well, you seem so pleased when you speak of Dottie," I told him, shrugging my shoulders. "It seems to me that, while Willie is clearly a blessing, perhaps you would enjoy having further children? Willie has expressed to me his desire for brothers and sisters," I said, turning my head away from him, hoping that his expression was not one of disappointment.

"What was your response to Willie's request?" John asked quietly.

I lowered my eyes to the ground, gripping slightly at the skirts that I wore; in the near month since our engagement, John had employed a seamstress to make me some gowns, and had spread his wealth a bit, to the point where both Brianna and Mama had been outfitted as well, Mama more reluctantly. "I informed Willie that it was a discussion that would have to be between the two of us," I said softly, hoping that I hadn't overstepped. "He was displeased that it wasn't the answer he wanted, and seemed to believe that you didn't want further children. I explained that I was unaware of your opinion on the matter, but that we shouldn't make such statements of that nature, without all the facts, as it could hurt someone..." I broke off, turning towards my fiancé again, hoping beyond hope that he wasn't angry. "Forgive me if I spoke out of turn," I said at last, fully aware of Brianna, who lurked a handful of steps behind us.

We had selected The Royal Botanic Garden that day, which was definitely interesting, given that the site in Brianna's and my timeline was moved and much different. This one had been around since 1870, and I had offered Mama an olive branch by informing her that we would be having our midday walk there. In response, she had given Brianna a diagramed list of what would be beneficial, so, while John and I walked and spoke, my twin flitted around our general area, and foraged on Mama's behalf.

"You didn't," John answered at last, extending his arm to me, which I took. "I never believed I would have a child of my own. Forgive me, but the possibility of having further children threw me for a moment," he admitted. "Are you... Do you find yourself desirous of children?"

I nodded. "I am," I said softly.

John looked stunned. "But... I believed that, after your past, you wouldn't wish to... Oh, do forgive me," he said again, shaking his head. "I should not make such statements about my wife-to-be, it is most unbecoming."

"I have given it some thought, from the moment you asked me to be your wife," I said quietly as we continued our stroll.

The tremors in the entirety of my body had left after the first two weeks, after careful consideration of John taking me, and not just upon our wedding night. I had had Mama examine me as thoroughly as possible; she told me that, despite what had befallen me, I had suffered no ill effects physically directly from the men. However, the lashings upon my back, as well as the cuts upon my arms and legs, naturally, would mar my skin on a permanent basis. Now, although the anxiety still rippled through me whenever I fully considered myself with John in bed, I was well aware of the notion that he would not hurt me and, therefore, it could potentially be pleasurable for us both. Of course, if my talks with Brianna and her evenings with Roger were anything to go by...

"Have you drawn any conclusions from these thoughts?" John asked softly.

"I believe you shall be respectful towards me, just as you are now," I answered, looking up at him with a soft smile. "I believe you shall never force me to commit acts which cause me a significant amount of discomfort. I believe that, should we find ourselves in a scenario in which one or both of us finds not to our liking, that we will have the kind of relationship wherein we are able to communicate that to one another and, in so doing, will stop the act at once." I stood on my toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And, of course, I believe you will not deliberately seek to hurt me, and not just when we are abed."

John's eyes were wide as he stared down at me. "Yes, to all those things," he breathed. "I shall always respect you, Beatrice, never cause you discomfort, never to force you to do things against your will, always stop when you wish me to do so, and never hurt you. Never."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said.

"As for the rest of it," John said, taking up my hand and kissing it, "I shall want however many children you wish to give me."

John presented me with a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring in a silver setting on the day he received it from his mother. It also happened to be the day that I formally converted to the Anglican faith for him. We were married at St. Margaret's Chapel in Edinburgh Castle, after he called in a favor with a Scottish nobleman he knew. I swore to love, honor, and forsake all others until death do us part, before we left the chapel as man and wife. John and I ventured to the large estate he had borrowed from a Roger Hog of Cammo, a wealthy banker who owed him a favor, while the rest of my family came with us, as the estate was certainly large enough. We would leave the following morning for Lallybroch, in the carriages John had hired.

We had had dinner with my family before the ceremony, where I had eaten lightly, quite nervous before my vows. Mama and I had finally discussed my marriage, and she, at last, gave me her blessing, for she had seen how well John had treated me. I had spoken with John about my discussion with Da, pertaining to Willie's true parentage, and John was relieved that I knew about it before we were wed. I told him that I would never inform Willie of it, and, instead, love him as a proper mother, for I had already begun to do so.

"Roger Hog has business in London with Hal as we speak, so he said he was happy for us to spend our wedding night here," John reported as he showed me around the impressive gallery at the estate.

"Doesn't he have a family?" I asked.

"A son, called Thomas," John responded. "John and his wife, Mary, are visiting Mary's father, the Earl of Lauderdale, at his estate, Haltoun House, in the village of Ratho."

I nodded, finding that the information was quite interesting, and pleased to have John imparting it to me. Meanwhile, Mama was giving all the staff and servants medical evaluations, while Roger and Brianna were taking advantage of some alone time in their borrowed suite of rooms, treating this as a miniature second honeymoon, not that I minded. Da was spending time with Willie, Fergus, and Ian, and they were all regaling Willie with tales about Lallybroch, as well as our upcoming journey there in the morning.

"John," I said softly, relieved that the servants had merely shown us the way to the large bedroom suite we were to occupy, before, with knowing looks, left us alone.

"Yes, my dear?" he asked.

I peeked up at him, my eyes wide in the candlelight surrounding us. "What would you say if I asked you to attempt to make a baby with me tonight?"

John raised his eyebrows. "Are you certain?"

I nodded. "I am."

John looked around for a moment, before he lifted me as if I weighed nothing, and took the most direct route to our borrowed bedroom. Three flights of stairs and several corridors later, he pushed open the double doors and bolted them behind us. There was a fire in the sitting room grate, and the furniture was lovely, but we bypassed it all entirely and went directly into the main bedchamber, where a large bed sat center stage, done up in curtains and a canopy, which matched the window drapes and the color of the walls.

I braced myself upon his shoulders for a moment, before I carefully eased myself out of his arms before presenting my back to him. "Are you aware of how to unlace me, or should I summon a servant to rectify the situation?"

John stepped closer, and began to pull at the strings. "I believe I am sufficient enough."

"Really?" I asked, laughter encased within my tone as I peered over my shoulder at him. "Shall I, perhaps, summon Brianna or Mama instead?"

"Please, not your mother," John said quietly. "I just barely scraped by with her approval, and I would hate to think I would lose it now..."

I bit at my lips to prevent from laughing completely. "For being unable to unlace my gown, or the fact that, in a few short moments, you and I will be sharing a bed for the first time?"

John dropped his hands, instead bracketing them about my waist, which directly caused a flush to creep upwards and settle upon my cheeks. "I do not want to think of your mother right now, Beatrice Eryn Grey," he whispered.

I trembled with delight in his arms at the notion that he'd called me by my new surname. "I would imagine not," I replied.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before he pressed a pure, loving kiss onto my collar bone, and pulled back to tend to my laces again. "I have far more important things on my mind."

"Oh?" I asked, although it came out a bit strangled, as I fancied I could still feel the press of his lips upon my hot skin.

"Yes, such as my wedding night to my new bride," he declared, finally finishing the laces, and gently pulling down my gown.

I felt the tickling sensation of the velvet dragging upon my arms for a moment, before I stepped away from him and crossed the room, got myself out of it completely, and laid it upon a trunk upon the far side of the room. I knew that one of the servants would pack it away for me, and provide me with suitable clothing for traveling to Lallybroch in the morning. The dark blue heels which John had commissioned especially for the day, which matched my blue gown, came off easily, much to the relief of my sore feet. Now, all I wore was the silk and lace corset, along with a white chemise, and my stockings.

John shifted slightly from his place beside the bed, and I turned to regard him, noticing that he had dispelled of his own shoes, as well as his military uniform. He held out his hand to me, which was illuminated by the soft candlelight and flickering firelight, and, very quietly, uttered the word, "Come."

I stepped forward, my stockings soundless upon the wood floor, and took his hand once I'd approached him completely. I followed his lead, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling my eyes widen as he got to his knees and proceeded to take off my stockings. As much as I was enjoying this gentlemanly behavior, I still hadn't mastered the ability to breathe long-term within the confines of a corset, so I reached behind my back and managed to unlace it blindly, letting out a soft sigh of relief when it came away from my body.

"Apologies," I said, once my husband had looked up. "Breathing is something I think will be a necessary occurrence tonight."

A smile played upon John's lips. "No apologies necessary, my dear, I assure you." He had already managed one stocking, and easily took care of the other, before he sat beside me upon the bed, giving me plenty opportunity to take note of his appearance. He still wore his own drawers, but had removed his undershirt, stockings, and garters on his own, which were folded, with military precision, upon a table across the room. "I do not wish to frighten you, not for anything," he said gently. "If you wish it, we may blow out the candle, and pull the curtains around the bed..."

"No, thank you," I said, shaking my head, placing my fingers tentatively against his lips. "I want to see you, John, and I want you to see me. All of me."

John reached outwards, caressing my cheek. "You are so courageous, Beatrice—"

"I am not courageous yet," I said, turning my head to press a kiss to his palm, before I got to my feet again, and turned so that I was facing him completely. I managed to get ahold of the base of my chemise and lifted it slowly over my head, before discarding it upon the floor. I waited for John to see the self-inflicted scars which littered my arms and legs with baited breath, unaware of what he would say.

"May I do something?" he asked softly.

I tensed slightly, unknowing what he would do. "Well... I suppose, as you are my husband, you have every right to do whatever you wish, for I'm now your wife," I said quietly. "However, I know you remember what I told you before we wed... Just...please don't..."

John cupped my cheek again, his expression determined, yet still patient. "I shall never inflict pain upon your body, Beatrice. I swear it."

I wanted very much to question whether or not he would inflict pain upon my mind, whether it was deliberate or not, but my courage failed me as I nodded my head. "All right. Do what you wish, then, John."

He got to his feet and knelt before me, taking ahold of my left arm and pressing a kiss to each scar there, before doing the same to my right. Next, he pressed kisses onto each scar inflicted upon my legs, before he got to his feet again, his eyes kind and filled with love. "Perhaps you might permit me to see your back now, my dear?" he asked.

I swallowed, a lump temporarily lodging itself in my throat, before I turned my back to him, feeling as if I was on the precipice of something, something I knew not. I felt the hot tears entering my eyes just a few moments later, when John placed a soft hand upon my shoulder, before leaning down and pressed kiss after kiss to the lashings which decorated the fair skin of my back. The tears flowed down my cheeks and I shook with the sobs which came with them, before I allowed myself, once John had finished kissing every lashing, to be taken into his arms and held for several uninterrupted moments.

"It is all right," he whispered. "I am here."

"I know," I whispered back, reaching up to clutch at his arms. "I know you're here. I'm here, too, and I always will be," I said, turning around and staring up at him. "I know that Willie needed a mother, and that was why you initially asked for me to be your wife. But I can only hope that, one day, you can love me, because I'm falling in love with you, John."

John cupped at my cheek again, smiling down at me. "I hope you know that the feeling is entirely mutual, Beatrice," he said softly. "I never imagined taking another wife, but I felt something drawing me to you from the moment I laid eyes on you. There, in the crowd of people, holding my son's hand..." He shook his head. "You looked as if you fit together, as if you truly belonged there, and it was then that I knew, in that moment, though I did not even know your name, I would have to find out who you were, and make you my wife."

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his; it was only the second time I had ever done so, for the first had occurred when we were proclaimed man and wife by the bishop, just a handful of hours ago. I clung to him as if we were my very lifeline, tethering me to the world, as my heart thundering within me while his arms came around my waist, holding me against him. I gasped as he lifted me then, giving him ample opportunity to taste me for the first time, my toes curling as my legs wrapped completely around his torso, and was deposited gently onto the bed, looking up at him as he lowered his drawers and ventured forward to lie beside me. I felt my breath catching in my throat as I extended my hand, fanning my fingers as I did so, and inched it towards his muscled chest.

John watched me, his eyes dark in the candlelight, as my hand extended towards him, only for my courage to fail me again, and my hand to come to rest, palm down, against the bed between us. "Why did you stop?" he whispered.

"I..." I shut my eyes for a moment, shaking my head, before I opened them again. "I should have asked if I could touch you..."

John smiled slowly at that. "While I appreciate where your mind went, my dear, something tells me that I would not have minded your touch..."

I lifted my arm again, although it trembled this time, but I nevertheless permitted it to continue inching forward, little by little, before I placed it gently upon his chest. I marveled at the softness of the skin there, as well as the lack of hair. "I... Most of the men, before, they..."

"Were not as well-groomed?" John asked gently.

I nodded. "Yes," I admitted.

"This is how I prefer to keep myself," he admitted to me softly. "If you do not like it, I'm sure I can amend my grooming routine so that—"

"No," I said softly, interrupting him, as I raised my eyes to his. "I rather like it like this. And I'm not just saying that to make your grooming routine simpler."

John smiled at that, obviously pleased. "Is there anything..." He sighed, a torn expression overtaking his happiness. "Is there anything you would rather I not do? Other than taking you by force, or being rough?"

I bit my lip. "Never call me 'hen'."

John raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"

I pursed my lips. "It is more of a Scottish expression," I explained. "All the men would call me that—'hen'. It is a term for women, and I... I don't..."

John nodded. "Well, I shall never address you as such, then. Or have our cooks prepare lamb without a second option," he said, smirking at that last.

"I'm not a fan of fish either," I admitted softly. "Most meat that I eat is chicken or beef. I do, however, as you've seen, enjoy sausage..."

"Ever had goose?" John asked quietly.

I shook my head. "No," I answered. "I haven't."

"We always had it at Christmastime growing up," John said softly, his eyes taking on a pleased, faraway expression. "It was a lovely tradition... What did you eat during Christmastime?"

"Turkey," I admitted with a small smile, and John looked amused. "Max would go to the market and ensure that we had the biggest and the best, even though, for a few years, it was only the three of us. Then, when we moved to Scotland, we would spend holidays with the MacGregor family..."

"The ones who were your saviors?" John asked.

I nodded. "Yes. We would have to find an even larger turkey then, because they had three children themselves. Angus would always demand the wishbone, while Elsie and Kenna would want the legs..."

John looked surprised. "You wouldn't want the wish, or the drumsticks?"

"After they saved me, I didn't need the wish," I responded. "As for the legs, I am not much of a fan of dark meat when it comes to white meat," I explained softly.

John nodded. "We'd best keep you away from goose then," he said pragmatically. He hesitated for a moment, before he spoke again. "There is something I should tell you, Beatrice..."

I gave him a soft smile. "John, I may be a woman, but I am not naïve," I said gently. "I am sure that Isobel was not the first maiden you brought into your bed."

John swallowed. "She was not," he admitted, "but I... I never had a preference for women," he said, getting it out quickly, as if afraid he wouldn't be able to say the words.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh," I said at last. "You prefer men, then?"

John appeared apoplectic at the congeniality of my response. "Why are you not shouting at me, proclaiming me to be a sinner, a sodomite, for being desirous of committing society's forbidden act of buggery?" he hissed. "Are you mocking me?"

"No, John," I said calmly, "I would never do something like that."

John dragged a hand down his face. "I cannot understand why you wouldn't be angry at me," he admitted, shaking his head

"Well, quite frankly, because I think society's opinions on the matter are wrong," I told him, my tone patient, likely due to the notion that John was unlikely to hear such things in everyday conversations. "If... If that is how you feel, then I shall not force you to share my bed after this one night," I continued, and he looked sharply at me.

"What?"

"Well, we need only consummate our marriage once, thus proving that it's legal, when it comes to the rules of the church," I told him simply. "I know you like me, very much, and claimed to be falling in love with me, but, if you truly have a preference for men, as long as you are discreet, I would have no issues with you being with—"

John extended his hand then, shaking his head as he gently pressed his fingers to my lips. "I don't want anyone else."

I felt my brows knit together as he withdrew his hand. "Well... Then, I don't understand."

"I was being honest when I informed you of my feelings for you," John said softly. "I am falling in love with you, Beatrice. I never imagined ever feeling such a way for a woman, but now that it has occurred, and that woman is my wife, I am overjoyed. Not because I am repulsed by my own past actions, but because I can finally be happy and fulfilled in a marriage."

"You didn't love Isobel, then?" I asked.

John sighed. "I loved her, but I was not in love with her. I cared for her, saw her as one of my dearest friends, but it was never love between us, Beatrice."

I rested my hand in my palm, curious. "Have you ever been in love, then?"

"There was a man, Percy. He was my stepbrother," John admitted.

I raised my eyebrows, but did not admonish him. "Well, that certainly makes things easier when you want to have what is considered to be an illicit liaison," I answered.

John smirked. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Do you still see him?" I asked.

"No," John replied, "and I will not find comfort in Percy, or in others, gentleman or lady, now that you are my wife. Your father asked if I intended to be faithful to you, and, I assure you, Beatrice, I shall be."

I smiled. "Well, then I assure you, I shall do the same," I told him. "I have no intention of straying, not only because I hardly know anyone around here, but because you are my husband, and I care for you, very deeply."

John gently took me by the hand and kissed it. "I care for you, too, Beatrice. Very deeply."

I angled myself so that I was lying upon my back, though I still gazed at him. "I am ready now, John," I said softly.

John's eyes widened. "Ready?"

I bit my lip, still staring at him. "Ready to begin the rest of our lives," I declared, opening my arms to him.

John looked touched as he inched forward, shucking his drawers as he went, and caressed my face as he saw my reaction to the size of him. "Do not worry," he told me. "I shall be gentle and careful with you, Beatrice, I swear it."

I nodded, ensuring that I was in the optimal position, as John oriented himself above me. I kept a close eye upon him as he took ahold of himself, gently teasing at my folds for a moment, and I gasped as he found something lurking between my legs with his free hand. "What...?" I whispered harshly, sharply, as my toes curled with anticipation. "What is that?"

"That, my dear, would be your nymph," John explained softly, smiling down at me. "A pleasure button that all maidens have."

I felt my throat drying as I gazed up at him. "Pleasure," I whispered, trembling beneath him, "is not something, in these kinds of scenarios, that I am familiar with."

"Then allow me to introduce it to you, Beatrice," he whispered. "May I?"

"Yes, please," I breathed.

John continued to languidly tease at my folds, brushing up against whatever my nymph was repeatedly, to the point where my legs were rendered to jelly. Slowly, he lowered himself and, once my eyes fluttered open and I nodded at him, entered me for the first time. He stroked at my arms as I gasped, whispering words of desire, care, and encouragement, and waited for my body to ease up on its tension, before he angled himself a bit, and I cried out.

"John!" I cried.

"There you are, my dear," he said softly, quite obviously pleased with himself for eliciting such a reaction from me. He continued in this vein, positioning his hips, and frequently checking in with me to ensure that I was enjoying myself. His attentiveness paid off in the end, for it was with mutual enjoyment which ended things that evening, much to my relief.

"I am no longer so afraid anymore," I confided in him, once we'd cleaned up, and he was merely holding me in the semi-darkness.

We left Edinburgh after breakfast the following morning, in the carriages that John had hired for the occasion, wanting to ensure as much safety as possible for us all, especially Willie. We made it to Kinross that evening, stopping to rest the horses at a local inn, and I was pleased to be out of the confined space for the night. Stretching my limbs as we entered the public house section of The Green Hotel, with John requesting four rooms (as Willie was more than willing to share with Fergus and Ian, which they were fine with) I permitted Brianna to pull me aside towards one of the alcoves situated upon the edge of the room.

"You have to tell me about your wedding night," she said persuasively.

I turned my head; John was speaking to the innkeeper, while Da and Mama were enquiring about the menu that evening, and Roger, Fergus, and Ian were keeping Willie occupied. "Well," I said softly, turning to my twin again, "it was marvelous."

Brianna's eyes shone with delight. "Was it?"

I nodded in confirmation. "Indeed," I responded. "I should think it will be a regular occurrence in our marriage."

Da and Mama ensured that we would be seated as a family for dinner that evening, and then for breakfast the following morning. After dinner, we retired to bed, and I did my utmost not to bother the other patrons at the establishment with my excessive praises of John, during what was supposed to be my honeymoon. Thank goodness that there were plenty of pillows in our room for that very purpose!

We set out after breakfast the following morning, with Da informing us that we could make it to Blair Castle if we put our minds to it, but would have to exchange horses at the halfway point, but, thankfully, he knew a place. We set off in that direction, although I was completely lost without proper road signs to guide me. Da explained that some cousins of our uncle, Ian, were the clan that were the owners of the castle, and were more than happy to put up our band of merry men for a night.

The castle was beautiful; it had massive walls built from white stone, tall towers, and several other outbuildings constructed from the same stone. Clan Murray was warm and welcoming towards us, with Da happily introducing Mama, Brianna, and myself to them. He further introduced Fergus, Ian, John, Roger, and Willie, and the house seemed filled to the brim with love, warmth, and excitement for guests. We were given a wonderful meal, shown to our rooms, and told that we would be provided with breakfast and fresh horses before our journey tomorrow, which we were all quite happy with.

We spent the next three days on the road and staying in various inns of little importance, while all the while John and I continued getting to know one another as husband and wife. I noticed that he permitted me to make parental decisions for Willie, which I was pleased with, though I always wondered if I was doing something wrong. He seemed very happy, however, calling me "Mummy" whenever he asked a question or wanted my attention, and it warmed my heart to know that my brother, who was now my son, accepted me as his mother.

Da grew excited upon the fifth day; we had ridden hard the day before, exchanging horses once to cover more ground, so that our final day wouldn't be nearly as long a journey. He let us know when we arrived on Clan Fraser lands, and nearly shouted for joy when he announced that we were officially on the road towards Lallybroch. He had our carriages slow to a walk to truly appreciate everything, and also instructed the drivers the proper way to the stables to put their team of horses away once we'd arrived. Meanwhile, we were instructed to get out at the gate, while Da assured us that someone would be along to collect our belongings.

I walked with John and Willie, who was very impressed with the grand house.

"This is where Grandda grew up, Mummy?" he asked, his eyes wide.

I nodded. "That's correct, my darling. He would play here as a boy with his sister, who lives here now, with her husband, their eldest son, his wife, their children, and Ian's elder sister, Janet," I explained, knowing that he would have to learn all their names, and quickly, as I'd only just barely managed to recall them myself.

"Grandda doesn't talk about his brothers," Willie said softly. "Are they with Mummy Isobel in heaven, Mummy?" he asked.

I smiled, patting Willie's cheek. "Yes, my darling, they are. One of them was called William, and the other was called Robert."

Willie watched as Da ran ahead, his arm linked in Mama's, the commotion causing the front door of the house to open, and who I presumed Aunt Jenny stood there. "Who is that?" Willie asked, as he, John, Brianna, Roger, Fergus, Ian, and I cautiously stepped through the gate as well, as if we were unsure of our welcome.

"I think that's Grandda's sister, darling, Jenny," I whispered to him.

Willie's eyes widened as Aunt Jenny stood there, proud, despite her small stature. "She's frightening," he whispered.

Roger cleared his throat, in an effort to keep from laughing, while John bit his lips, Fergus coughed, and Ian looked away.

"That may be," Brianna said, kneeling beside Willie, "but we don't know her yet, and we certainly don't want to hurt her feelings."

Willie's eyes went wide as he nodded. "Yes, Auntie Brianna," he said, turning to watch the scene unfold in front of us.

Mama stood tall and proud, waiting for Aunt Jenny to speak; she held onto her belongings, as well as the medical kit Joe had put together for her, while Aunt Jenny merely stared at her for several moments in silence.

"I never kent I'd see ye upon my doorstep again," Aunt Jenny said, breaking the silence between them at last.

"Me neither," Mama replied, obviously knowing when to tread carefully.

Aunt Jenny appeared as if she wished to say more, but she walked past her and grabbed up Ian into her arms, seemingly content not to release him. "Ye had me worried half to death," she declared, every inch the concerned mother, especially given the notion that Ian was the youngest out of all her children.

"I was making a wage," Ian protested.

Aunt Jenny pushed Ian away from her impatiently, smacking him on the head. "I dinna care about that. Now ye're home, where ye belong." She rounded on Da then, shaking her head at him. "Ye should have told us he'd followed ye, Jamie. Months with no word, and now ye're home, with strays to boot—"

"I willna have ye calling my wife a stray, Jenny," Da countered, narrowing his eyes at her. "As for the others—"

"Aye, more mouths to feed," Aunt Jenny said, crossing her arms. "Why did ye bring so many home with ye? Fergus I can understand; he is always welcome here. But these two men and their wives, plus that bairn, have nothing to do with us—"

"All right, that is quite enough, thank you very much!" I cried out, years of being told I wasn't good enough and didn't belong somewhere finally reeling its ugly head as Aunt Jenny's head snapped in my direction, her eyes narrowing. "You may be unfamiliar with us, but we are your nieces," I said, stepping forward, allowing Aunt Jenny to get a proper look at me for the first time, before I took ahold of Brianna's arm and pulled her along with me. "If it's too much trouble for us to be here, then we'll make other arrangements. But don't you dare disparage my son, Janet Murray!"

Aunt Jenny looked stunned as she walked away from Ian, before she came closer to us, peering at our faces like a proper inspector would. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at us, taking in Brianna's hair, my eyes, as well as our heights. "Ye're Jamie's girls," she said softly.

Brianna promptly glared at her. "Claire is our mother," she responded defiantly, "but yes, Jamie is our father."

Aunt Jenny's gaze snapped onto Mama for a moment, before she regarded Da. "Why did ye never tell me?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "Ye told me of Claire's miscarriage in France—"

"Claire conceived our lassies before Culloden," Da informed her, doing his best to keep his tone patient with his older sister.

Mama placed a hand on his arm. "We have to tell her the truth, Jamie," she said softly. "We have to tell her where I've been, and how much I wanted to come back to be a part of this family. We will never be able to heal properly without the truth."

"About the Colonies?" Fergus asked.

John nodded. "As well as Beatrice's adoption," he said softly.

"Adoption?" Aunt Jenny asked, her eyes snapping back onto us, before she shook her head. "I didna even ask for yer names..."

Brianna sighed. "My name is Brianna Ellen MacKenzie. I took my husband's name," she explained, gesturing towards Roger.

"I'm Beatrice Eryn Grey," I said, nodding towards John. "I took my husband's name as well, and that's our son, Willie."

Aunt Jenny turned to regard Uncle Ian, who motioned for everyone to come into the house. We went inside, with Ian being given instructions to take Willie to meet his elder brother, James', children, while the rest of us went into the dining room, where a large table was. I sat with John, with Brianna on my other side, and Roger on her other side, while Mama and Da sat together. It didn't take long for Aunt Jenny and Uncle Ian to join us, with Fergus being encouraged to sit down at the table as well.

"What did ye mean?" Aunt Jenny asked softly, her question directed at Mama. "About the truth in yer disappearance..."

Mama sighed, looking over at me, Brianna, and Roger, leading us to nod at her with encouragement, before she leaned into Da's side for support. "You will likely think this is mad, but I want to be truthful with you all, as we are all family," she said, addressing Aunt Jenny, Uncle Ian, Fergus, and John. "For the past twenty years, I returned to where I came from."

"England?" Aunt Jenny guessed.

Mama shook her head. "No."

"Ye mentioned ye had relatives in France," Uncle Ian said softly. "Did ye go there?"

Mama sighed. "No, Ian, I didn't. When I tell you I returned to where I came from, I mean that I returned to my own time."

Aunt Jenny stared at Mama, her dark eyes wide. "Time?" she demanded.

"I was born in 1918," Mama told them, softly and slowly, knowing entirely well that she would have to remain as calm as possible as she told the tale. "My parents were Henry Beauchamp and Julia Moriston, and they met during the First World War. I was married to a man named Frank Randall, who was a history professor, and I served as a combat nurse during the Second World War. I was on a long-awaited honeymoon with my husband, Frank, after the war ended, in Inverness, when I traveled two hundred years into the past, to 1743, where I met Jamie for the first time. I didn't want to fall in love with him, and I certainly didn't intend upon marrying him, but I did. We conceived Faith, our first child, the one I lost in France, and then conceived Brianna and Beatrice before the Battle of Culloden. Jamie didn't want for me to perish in the battle, or to potentially lose another pregnancy, so I returned to my own time. When I returned, it was 1948, and I was three months along in my pregnancy. My husband, Frank, had discovered that he was unable to have children, and desperately wanted me back. However, I told him about my adventure, as well as my unexpected pregnancy, and he agreed to be my husband again, on the proviso that I forget what had happened to me, and raise the baby as ours."

Aunt Jenny's jaw clenched. "That doesna account for Beatrice's adoption."

Mama nodded. "When women in the twentieth-century are ready to give birth, in many scenarios, they do so in hospital. When I was in labor, the doctor decided to use a method to reduce pain when it came to labor by utilizing something called Twilight Sleep. It was a combination of two different kinds of medicine, which, quite literally, put me to sleep, despite me begging him not to do so. I gave birth to Brianna and Beatrice, and Frank was told, whereupon he went to see them. He informed the nurse that he and I had discussed the notion of one child, and that he did not want a second, nor did he want the nurse to inform me about Beatrice's existence. So, this led to the nurse taking Beatrice to an orphanage, where she was placed for adoption, and adopted at the age of three months, by Maximilian and Virginia Carlyle, a seemingly loving couple. The father, Mr. Carlyle, passed away when Beatrice was nine, which led to...unspeakable things..."

"Ginny, as my adopted mother was called, took to drinking excessively," I said quietly, and I couldn't bear to look at Uncle Ian or Aunt Jenny, unknowing if I would see disbelief or pity in their eyes. "She would bring various men to the home we lived in, inexplicably in Scotland, and, when I was ten, one of them men asked about me. She would then permit these men to violate me on a consistent basis, and, if I refused, I was whipped. In an effort to get the men disinterested in me, I would use a razor to cut my arms and legs, in the hopes that the scars would make me too ugly to... Well, share a bed with. I finally got out of there when I was fourteen, when my late adopted father's best friends figured out what was going on. I was sent away to school, where I made a new life for myself. I also completed two years of university, which was where I met Roger; he was my professor."

Aunt Jenny turned to Roger. "Ye're from the future as well, lad?"

Roger nodded. "Aye, Mrs. Murray—"

"Ye'll call me Aunt Jenny, lad," she told him, her voice firm. "Jamie's and my ma was a MacKenzie, which makes us family."

"All right, Aunt Jenny," Roger replied. "And aye, I am from the future, born during the Second World War. I was a history professor at Oxford, raised by my adopted father, in the aftermath of the war, which took my parents' lives. I met Beatrice on her first day at Oxford, and the pair of us bonded over the notion that we were both adopted. I saw her as the sister I never had, and now I am her brother in truth, now that I am marrit to Brianna."

"Have ye known all this time, milord?" Fergus asked; he had remained silent throughout the discussion, though his eyes had been wide the entire time.

"Since just before I brought Claire to Lallybroch for the first time," Da told him. "She had been accused to witchcraft, alongside another young woman. The other woman claimed that she herself bore the mark of witchcraft, but I'd noticed the same mark upon Claire's arm as well, but Claire insisted to me that she was no' a witch."

"I am not a witch," Mama told everyone firmly. Fearlessly, she rolled up the sleeve of her gown, showcasing the mark in question—a smallpox vaccine scar.

I straightened in my chair, and proceeded to roll up my gown's sleeve as well, Brianna mimicking my actions, and Roger doing the same. Without hesitation, we all lay our arms down onto the table beside Mama's, each showcasing our own vaccination marks. "It is not a mark of witchcraft, but a mark of safety," I told them, finally having the courage to meet their eyes.

Uncle Ian stared at it, his brow furrowed. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

"A vaccination scar," Mama informed him patiently. "Brianna, Beatrice, Roger, and I could walk through a large room, filled with people who are ill with smallpox, and none of us would catch the disease ourselves."

Aunt Jenny's eyes were wide. "Ye willna?"

Mama shook her head. "No, we won't. I had a friend of mine, another doctor, put together a medical kit for me," she said, looking over at me with an indulgent expression. "Beatrice insisted. In my possession, have vaccines for smallpox, cholera, influenza, yellow fever, typhoid fever, measles, plague, and tuberculosis—which you know as consumption."

Aunt Jenny appeared unsure. "I dinna ken if we trust them," she said.

Roger gave an uneasy expression, before he went into his own small bag and produced a book which I'd never seen before and, judging by Mama and Brianna's expressions, they hadn't seen it either. "I found this just before we came back," he said, and lay it down upon the center of the table, the gleaming golden letters of the book reading Fraser Family History.

Uncle Ian appeared stunned, whereupon he took ahold of the book and thumbed through it, his eyes wide. "It's dated as being published in the twentieth century, in nineteen-hundred-and-fifty-two."

Aunt Jenny got to her feet and hurried towards her husband, peering into the book with him, her eyes, previously filled with skepticism, now filled with amazement. "Look further," she urged him softly.

Uncle Ian nodded, turning the pages of the book, finding himself about midway though it before he stopped. "It's yer ma and da," he whispered to Aunt Jenny.

Aunt Jenny's eyes immediately filled with tears, before she dashed them away. "It lists me, and Jamie, being the only children which survived to adulthood. It has my marriage to Ian, and Jamie's to Claire, and all our children. And here it says..." Aunt Jenny turned pale, "...it says yer to die in 1778 from tuberculosis." Her eyes turned towards Uncle Ian, filled with horror, whereupon Uncle Ian dropped the book in shock.

"While it isn't very effective in adults, or older children," Mama said softly, "it is always better to be safe than sorry."

Aunt Jenny, whose eyes had filled with tears, said softly, "Is there enough?"

Mama gave her a soft smile. "I checked the family tree records, and made sure to tell Joe just how many vaccines I would need, along with several more, just in case. It is always better to vaccinate children when they're young, so that they don't develop infections later on down the line, when our bodies naturally weaken overtime."

"Is there enough for Willie?" John asked, speaking for the first time, although his voice was stiff, likely doing his utmost to keep his temper.

"Yes, there is more than enough," Mama said softly.

I looked over at Mama, slightly panicked, and she nodded her head at me. I turned to look at my husband, and whispered, "May we go out for a walk?"

John inclined his head. "We may."

I turned to Aunt Jenny and Uncle Ian, feeling momentarily secure as Brianna curled her hand in mine and squeezed briefly. "That is, if you don't mind..."

Uncle Ian shook his head. "We dinna mind, lass."

Aunt Jenny gave me a tight smile. "It seems as if ye've things to discuss with yer husband. Run along and do so, lassie."

I got to my feet and walked towards the door, feeling relieved when Fergus gave me a small smile of encouragement, before John followed me out of there, down the hallway, and out the front door of Lallybroch. It was an overcast day, with a slight nip to the air, as we ventured down the stairs and towards the stables. I could hear the sound of horses neighing as we got closer, although I barely registered it, feeling the ominous presence of John beside me.

"Why did you not tell me the truth?" John asked, after a few moments of silence.

I felt myself tensing at his tone of voice. "Would you believed me if I had?"

John sighed. "I cannot answer that, Beatrice. Not now."

"Well," I said, forcing my voice not to break, "then I'm afraid it would be terribly difficult for me to answer your previous question, then."

"If I were to ask you anything now, would you tell me the truth?"

I swallowed. "I would," I confirmed. "Ask me anything you like."

John stopped walking. "You were born in 1948?"

I nodded, turning slightly to see that he was already staring at me. "Yes."

John seemed to consider his next words for a moment. "Will there be a war with the Thirteen Colonies against Great Britain?"

I felt myself laughing slightly. "I think that's a forgone conclusion, don't you?"

John narrowed his eyes slightly. "Beatrice."

I sighed. "Yes, there will be a war, called the Revolutionary War. The Thirteen Colonies will have victory over Great Britian, and subsequently declare themselves the United States of America, with their figurehead being a president, and not a king. The man, now known as Colonel George Washington, who will become a general throughout the war, will assume that title of first President of the United States, and become a Founding Father of America."

John proceeded to pace back and forth. "Is there a way to prevent this from happening?"

I rolled my eyes; it didn't surprise me that John was seemingly against the Thirteen Colonies establishing themselves as a new dominion. "No," I answered firmly, and he temporarily stopped walking, looking over his shoulder at me. "Mama and Da attempted to stop the Battle of Culloden, in an effort to ensure a Scottish victory, but were unsuccessful. History is set in stone already, John. There is little we can do to stop it, unless we were irrevocably tied to the people already."

John searched my face. "What do you mean?"

I bit my lip. "When Mama and Frank were on their honeymoon, in 1945, Frank saw Da's ghost in front of him," I said softly, and John's eyes widened. "He was twenty-five, the age he was when the Battle of Culloden occurred. Frank was meant to see him and inform Mama of it, so that Mama would have that conversation in the back of her mind when she inadvertently went to Craig na Dun, the stone circle, which is a time portal. Mama managed to prevent Da's death, and have Brianna and me. So, as I said, individuals you are tied irrevocably with can have their fates changed somewhat."

John shook his head, proceeding to pace back and forth again. "We swore there would be no secrets between us," he said, dragging a hand through his hair. "I informed you of Percy, as well as the others..."

"And I accepted it, as you well know," I countered.

"I married you, Beatrice," John said, turning on his heel to face me again. "You told me of your past at the hands of that wretched woman... Please tell me that was not a falsehood."

I gaped at him, my eyes becoming itchy with unshed tears. "How dare you?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I advanced upon him, the rage threatening to burst just beneath my skin. "You saw the marks upon my back, the ones she delivered to me when I refused to allow those friends of hers to fuck me!" I cried, my temper breaking. "I showed you the self-inflicted wounds upon my arms and legs, which I used Max's razor for, in the hopes that marring my own body would prevent those bastards from touching me!" I gritted my teeth, knowing entirely well that openly weeping before my husband was a forgone conclusion, although I did not wish to appear weak in front of him. "It didn't help, though, because they were either too drunk, or too sick, to really care that it was a child they were violating! I realize that all of this was a shock to you, John, but to actually accuse me, your wife, of lying when it comes to being raped—!"

I didn't hear the quick footsteps, or see the flash of red and John's widened eyes until it was too late, but I did scream when Da punched John in the jaw, causing him to topple to the ground. I stumbled backwards as I watched Da gripping ahold of John's shoulders, pinning him to the ground, and swearing at him in Gaelic.

"Da, stop!" I cried out, my scream echoing off the stables. "Get off of him now!"

"I ken ye had a past, but I permitted ye to marrit my daughter!" Da screamed, the rage coming off him in waves. "I ken that ye are in shock, but to accuse her of falsehoods, of lying, that she has been hurt—!"

"Da, that's enough!" I yelled, surging forward, attempting to grab him by the arm, but was shaken off, to the point where he punched John again.

"To think I permit my daughter to call ye 'husband', and my son to call ye 'father'," Da said, speaking through gritted teeth, gripping tightly to John's cravat, "after what ye told me ye wished to do to me at Ardsmuir."

"Mummy?"

My heart entered my throat at the words, and I quickly spun around, seeing that Willie had come out of the house, his blue eyes wide as he saw Da atop John. "Willie..." I whispered.

"Why is Grandda hurting Papa?" he whispered. "And why was he saying such things? Is Papa not my papa?"

My gaze snapped back towards John and Da, who were currently frozen, staring at Willie in a moment of panic. I looked back over at my son and quickly made my way over to him. "Willie, you mustn't listen to them," I said pragmatically. "Adults get into arguments, as everyone does in their lives..."

Willie's eyes filled with tears. "You're unhappy, Mummy," he said, reaching upwards, before he fetched his own handkerchief from his pocket, and dabbed at my eyes. "Who made you so?"

I smiled, laughing a bit as Willie wiped my eyes. "It is of no consequence."

Willie's brow furrowed at that. "Mummy, I don't wish for you to be unhappy," he said firmly, casting his gaze towards John and Da again. "If it was one of them, they should apologize. You and Papa have said that, if someone hurts someone else's feelings, then an apology is always due to remedy the situation."

I leaned down, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. "You shouldn't have to worry about this, my love, any of it."

Willie shook his head. "Was Grandda lying?"

I blinked, trying and failing to sound convincing. "What?"

Willie's lower lip trembled. "Is Grandda my true father?"

"I..." I whispered, tears flowing down my face again, knowing that I didn't want to lie to him, this little boy, who was both my son and my brother, through virtue of blood and marriage. "I don't believe I'm the proper person to give you an answer on that, Willie."

"Because you do not know?" Willie asked.

I shut my eyes. "No, not because I do not know," I answered, "but because it is not my place to give a correct answer."

"You would lie to me, Mummy?" Willie wanted to know.

My eyes snapped open at that. "Not maliciously, I assure you, Willie. It is only..." I turned towards Da and John again; they had gotten to their feet, but were each covered in a fair amount of mud from the ground, while John sported the beginnings of a black eye, a bloody nose, and bruised cheeks. I straightened up, setting my gown to rights, returned Willie's handkerchief to him, and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Willie, would you kindly go inside and inform your granny that Papa has suffered an accident? Oh, and explain that Grandda has some bruised knuckles as well."

Willie blinked, eyes wide, but nevertheless nodded his head and hurried back into Lallybroch, which would have, by all rights, passed down to him.

I advanced upon them both, my jaw set with determination. "I am going to say something, right here and right now. The pair of you better make it right with Willie; give him any explanation you wish, and then inform me of it. Because he," I said, pointing a finger towards the house, "is my son; has been from the moment I said my vows to John. I don't know how the rest of the world may see fit to parent, but I shall never willingly lie to my son again, if the lie has the propensity to hurt him, whether it is now or in the future. I realize that our situation is complicated at best, but it doesn't mean we can hurt him because of it. I love that little boy, as my son, and not as a brother." I looked at Da. "Thank you for defending my honor, but never use your violent tendencies toward my husband again. Say whatever you wish to my husband in the future, but if you so much as raise your hand to him again, you will find that you have me to answer to. Is that clear?" I demanded.

Da inclined his head. "Aye."

I gave him a short nod. "Go and see Mama about your hand," I ordered, waiting for him to leave before I stared up at my husband. "As for you," I continued, watching as my husband winced in the revelation that I was about to give him his own dressing down, "I shall not strike you, even though you were warranted, at the very least, a slap from me, at the words you decided to pit against me." I stepped closer still, my determination to make him see how truly angered I was at him immeasurable to the notion that he was so close to me, but I wouldn't permit myself to back down, not yet. "You will never accuse me of lying to you again, John Grey. Ever. All the cards are upon the table now, making the players of this thing called life having equal footing. I have previously stated that, should you have a question about the future, or my past, then I shall answer it. But what I shall not tolerate is lying to my son, or being committed to marriage to a man who thinks so little of me, that I would lie about those men and what they did to me. I do understand some irritation at not being privy to every little thing about me, but that is no excuse for what you said. I apologize for not being forthright about everything, and shall strive to be so in the future. While I am in want of an apology, and deserve one, I shall not drag one from you, as it wouldn't be genuine. You may apologize when you see fit, but don't expect me to share a bed with you until then. Now, go see my mother, and you may tell her how you found yourself in this situation, although I expect Da has already informed her of his side of things. Don't expect forgiveness so easily from Da, Brianna, or Roger, however."

John blinked. "Why not your mother?"

I sighed, my heart breaking all over again. "As much as she cares for me, and wants to love me, she will never see me on equal footing as she does Brianna. Brianna has been with her all her life, and that is something I must grow used to." I gave him a tight smile. "Willie will give me the unconditional love I have always wanted, while Da, who met me and Brianna at the same time, shall do so as well. As for Mama... Well," I said, shrugging, "as I said, I shall grow used to it eventually."

I watched as my husband made his way into Lallybroch, vaguely aware of the door shutting behind him. I ventured towards the stables, the little whinnies of the various horses captivating my interest. I smiled, walking towards a brown mare, who snuffled at I stepped closer, her dark eyes upon me. "Hello," I said softly, and she whinnied again. "Aren't you beautiful?"

"That's Whiskey," said a voice from behind me, and, turning, spotted a young girl with black hair and silvery eyes. "She's typically no' very friendly."

"Typically?" I asked, turning back towards the horse, who lowered her head.

"She's asking ye to pet her," the young girl explained.

I slowly raised my hand, smiling slightly as the horse seemed pleased as I pet her nose; it was a positive distraction from the events of the day. "Well, she is certainly very soft," I observed.

"I have no' seen ye around here before," the girl continued, moving so that she was standing beside me, smiling. "Who are ye?"

I gave her a soft smile; this young woman was certainly charismatic enough. "Well, who are you?" I countered.

The girl grinned. "Janet Murray," she answered. "And ye?"

"Beatrice Grey, formally Fraser," I answered, and Janet's eyes widened. "I suppose that would make me your cousin, then."

Janet looked stunned at my words. "But... Yer Uncle Jamie's daughter?" she asked.

"One of them," I answered, chalking up her shock to the notion that Da had never told anyone that Mama was pregnant. "I also have a twin sister, Brianna. She is inside at the moment, with her husband, Roger."

"I've a twin, Michael," Janet said softly, obviously pleased to have common ground with me, but likely still a bit stunned by the revelation that she had not one, but two, previously unknown cousins, although I was not about to tell her that Willie was one as well. "Ye canna know that, while Auntie Claire was gone, that Uncle Jamie was terribly sad, and he—"

"Janet, there ye are," said Aunt Jenny, coming into the stables, "and ye've found yer cousin, Beatrice. So glad to know that ye've met her now."

Janet looked back and forth from me and her mother. "Ma, did ye tell Auntie Claire, Cousin Brianna, and Cousin Beatrice, about how terribly sad Uncle Jamie was, and how ye told him to—"

"Janet, Mrs. Crook needs ye in the kitchen for supper," Aunt Jenny told her pointedly. "Ye're to go and see yer Auntie Claire first in the dining room, though. Remember we told ye she was a healer?"

Janet looked puzzled. "Aye, Ma. But—"

"She has some medicine ye need to take," Aunt Jenny said firmly, her tone brokering no argument. "Yer to take it and not complain. Yer da and I, as well as yer brother Jamie, Joan, Henry, Matthew, Caroline, and wee Benjamin, have taken it. Ye and Ian are next, so ye'd best get inside. Run along now."

Janet appeared to be most put out, but made her way out of the stables and back towards Lallybroch.

"She's a headstrong one," Aunt Jenny observed.

I smiled at her words. "I think I would have been quite the same at that age, were circumstances different," I said softly.

Aunt Jenny sighed, sadness in her eyes. "Ye and Brianna are twenty?"

"Nearly. We turn twenty at the end of November," I explained.

Aunt Jenny shook her head. "I hope ye ken, had we kent, we would have insisted yer ma stay here with us," she said softly. "It would have been difficult, but we would have loved ye both, as we do now. I suppose a part of us never gave up hope that Jamie had had children."

"My adopted parents never had siblings, and their own parents died when I was a small child, when we were in Europe... Max's family lived in New York, while Ginny's family resided in Pennsylvania. We didn't see very much of them, as we lived in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and they were quite dedicated to their positions, so it wasn't as easy to get to see them if they wanted to."

Aunt Jenny squeezed my shoulder. "Come, any newly-married bride, if she has Fraser blood in her, will conceive quickly. Ye will need to keep up your strength," she informed me sagely, giving me a knowing smile as we walked away from the stables and journeyed back towards Lallybroch. "Yer Lord John seems to have had an accident..."

I swallowed. "A misunderstanding," I said softly. "He... He was a bit too forward with his words when it came to Mama's revelation. I think Da was a bit too passionate about ensuring he kept his mouth shut about insulting me in the future."

Aunt Jenny raised her eyebrows. "It is a father's job to ensure that his daughter's virtues are never questioned, nighean mo ghràidh. I suppose things are different in the future?"

"Not so much different... Well, I suppose it comes down to the scenario," I said. "There is a common phrase, about a father getting out his shotgun. Boys and young men tend to steer clear of the insults, as well as questioning behavior, once that topic comes out to play."

Aunt Jenny nodded. "I suppose a great many things are different in the future..."

I hesitated for a moment. "What did Janet mean?" I asked softly. "What was she talking about when she mentioned that Da was sad, and you did something..."

"I merely attempted to offer him comfort," Aunt Jenny responded quickly, patting my cheek as we walked into the house. "Never ye mind. It is no' something ye need to worry about, my wee lamb," she told me, squeezing my shoulder again, before venturing towards the dining room, where I saw Mama administering vaccines to the Murray family.

I looked into the room opposite, and saw Brianna sitting with a young woman, who I guessed to be Joan, our cousin James' wife, and speaking softly while Joan rocked a baby in her arms. I smiled at the picture and stepped forward tentatively, not wanting to interrupt, but also wanting to meet Joan myself.

"Oh, here she is," Brianna said, beaming over at me. "Joan, this is my twin sister, Beatrice. Tris, this is our cousin James' wife, Joan."

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Broch Tuarach," I said, smiling and offering her a curtsy.

Joan smiled at me, her dark eyes kind. "A pleasure to meet ye as well, Lady John. Forgive me, I am still exhausted from the birth, but yer ma insisted that we get vaccinated, and have wee Benjamin vaccinated as well."

I stepped forward. "May I see him?" I asked.

Joan nodded, waiting for me to sit beside her, and promptly put him into my arms, much to my shock, as I thought she would merely pull back the muslin he was wrapped in and permit me to look at his face. "He's very calm... Oh, he likes ye," she said, smiling with love as Benjamin seemed to snuggle further into my arms.

"I am fond of babies," I said quietly.

"She is," Brianna confirmed, looking quite excited.

I blinked, looking from her, to Joan, and back again. "What is it?" I asked.

Brianna beamed, practically glowing. "Mama just told me that I'm pregnant," she said quietly, and Joan gasped, clutching at Brianna's hand.

"That's wonderful!" she said, forgetting for a moment to be quiet, but Benjamin awoke completely from my arms. She took him from me with a sympathetic expression, and got to her feet. "Forgive me, I must see to his feeding," she said softly, and hurried out of the room.

"That is wonderful news," I told her, clutching at her hand.

Brianna searched my face, concerned. "Are you all right? I heard Da telling Mama what happened outside... John had no right to say those things. Roger is having a word with him upstairs."

I nodded; John liked Roger, and seemed to respect his opinion. "Hopefully some kind of compromise can be made," I muttered.

Brianna furrowed her red brow. "There's something else," she said softly. "I can tell. What's going on?"

I bit my lip, deliberately lowering my voice. "Did you meet Janet?"

"Our cousin? I did," she confirmed. "She mentioned she had a twin brother, Michael. It's nice to know that we're not the only twins in the family..."

I pursed my lips. "Well, she seemed to want to tell me something, after she found out who I was," I told her. "But, when she started, Aunt Jenny came out and stopped her, and kept stopping her, pretty much banishing her into Lallybroch."

Brianna raised her eyebrows. "Funny, she did the same thing when Janet started talking to me after I introduced myself," she said, looking across the hall towards the dining room, where Mama was giving James and Joan's children advice about the vaccinations, while our cousins, Janet and Ian, listened attentively as well.

"When I asked her about it, Aunt Jenny said that she just comforted Da, and that I shouldn't worry about it," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Brianna cocked her head to one side. "You think there's something there, don't you."

I sighed. "I do," I admitted.

Brianna looked at me again. "What's the plan then?"

"Well," I said, turning back to look at her, "Aunt Jenny obviously isn't going to tell us anything, so we need to get Janet alone..."

"...given that Aunt Jenny seems determined to keep Janet quiet," Brianna said, shaking her head with disappointment. "Don't worry. I'm sure, between the two of us, we can figure it out."

I grimaced as Mama finished the injections on James and Joan's children, and quickly administered the ones to Ian and Janet, before Aunt Jenny entered the dining room, with an elderly woman I assumed to be Mrs. Crook. "Sooner rather than later," I said, making a face at whatever was on the platters.

Brianna stared at me, concerned. "You look ill..."

I huffed slightly atthat. "I think you will be soon," I answered, "given that I think we're aboutto suffer with stuffed cabbage for dinner."