"It was an honor to have thee at our wedding ceremony this day, Alexandra," Rachel said warmly, as I assisted in preparing her for bed. "And, thank thee, for permitting Ian and I to lay our heads here for the night."

I smiled at Rachel, readily embracing her. "It is no trouble, I assure you."

In the weeks that had followed Katya's birth, as well as William becoming aware that it was Jamie had been the one to father him, everything had seemed to change, not just in our household, but in our lives. We had held a solemn christening ceremony for my daughter, with William agreeing to attend, although he had steadfastly refused to speak to Jamie, or John, throughout the ceremony. Tobias and Ian were named as Katya's godfathers, while Lydia and Rachel were her godmothers, the latter two taking it in turns to hold her throughout the ceremony. She only cried when the holy water was dipped onto her head, which led, predictably, to squirms and a series of cries.

Later that evening, while John and I sat with Claire and Jamie in the parlor, long after we had put Katya to bed, Jamie and Claire had asked how I felt if they adopted me. I was fully aware that there were no formal adoption laws in the time period, although I could hardly say such a thing in front of John. So, I merely questioned what it would entail, while John sat back and smiled warmly, leading me to believe that he was aware that this conversation would take place in time, and approved of it. I was slightly taken aback when Jamie took out his dagger and sliced his palm, whereupon Claire did the same, and anointed me with their blood, declaring me a Fraser by blood decree once and for all.

"After all," I continued, gently turning Rachel about and brushing her hair, "you are my cousin now, as of this afternoon."

Rachel grinned at that, her face pretty in the mirror. "I am thee's cousin," she said, her smile faltering for a moment. "I... I hear that it is painful, the first time..."

I placed my hand gently upon her shoulder with a nod. "It is," I told her softly, not wanting to lie to her, and she steadily nodded her head. "However, I am sure Da has spoken to Ian about being careful and gentle with you. You need not worry."

Rachel smiled at me. "It's still a bit odd, hearing thee call Jamie 'Da'," she admitted after a few moments of silence, "and Claire 'Mama'..."

I let out a small giggle. "Yes, it was for me, as well, initially," I admitted, recalling the moment of us just sitting with Katya, who was lying upon the ground, looking around her with a sense of wonderment that only newborn babies could have, and how Jamie had referred to himself as 'Grandda', and Claire 'Grandmama', which promptly led me to call them 'Da' and 'Mama' not too long thereafter. "It is, I suppose, a bit odd, finding one's true family so late in life..."

"Thee is merely seven and twenty," Rachel put in, "not so late."

I patted her cheek. "Well, I suppose I should let you get settled," I replied. "Do you want to wait for him in bed?"

Rachel hesitated. "No, I think I will await him in the center of the room, where the candlelight is at its best."

I nodded at her, knowing that she knew her own mind. "Well, sleep well, then, cousin. Do you need anything else?"

Rachel shook her head. "I do not. Thank thee, Alexandra, for everything."

I embraced her one last time before I left the room, going promptly to the nursery, where I saw that the wet nurse, a kind young woman called Bessie, had just finished Katya's nightly feed before bedtime. "Good evening, Bessie."

Bessie looked up as she straightened her gown. "Good evening, Lady John," she replied, getting to her feet. "Miss Katya is well, and awaiting her mama, as always."

I smiled. "Thank you, Bessie," I said, taking her into my arms, and felt my heart leap as she snuggled in right away. "Go and have a rest," I told her, nodding towards her chamber, attached to the nursery. "I'll just spend a few moments with her, and you can hear her from your bed if she cries out for you."

Bessie let out a soft sigh of relief. "You are kind, Lady John, so kind," she responded, as she went for her bed.

I walked back and forth upon the floor of the nursery, the wintery moonlight streaming through the gap in the white curtains, as I considered which lullaby I would sing to my daughter. One came to mind as I walked, her blue eyes staring up at me, almost as if she was aware of what was to come. "Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high," I sang, remembering seeing the vision that was Judy Garland on the big screen, just days before Germany had attacked Poland, and changed everything. "There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby..."

"That is lovely," John's voice said, stepping into the room behind me.

I turned around, my face flushing; I had been complimented on my voice before, as it was compulsory in British education to be taught to sing, but I held onto hope that John wouldn't question me about the origin of the son. "It is," I answered, swaying Katya slightly, who had begun to fuss.

"Will you keep singing it?" he asked softly.

I nodded my head, looking back down at Katya, the overwhelming notion of love in my heart always threatening to burst like a dam might, the moment I looked into her eyes. "Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue... And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," I said softly, hearing a pair of footsteps walking down the hallway, and becoming vaguely aware of Claire and Jamie coming to stand in the doorway. "Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me... Where troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me..."

"It is truly a lovely song," Claire said softly to Jamie.

John turned to look at them. "You know it?" he asked her.

Claire nodded. "Yes," she answered. "I used to sing it to Brianna when she was a baby..."

John shook his head in confusion. "I have never heard it..."

Claire smiled at him, but nodded at me, which let John know that the song was not yet over, and he gave me a sheepish expression when he turned back to face me.

I smiled, knowing that he hadn't meant any harm, as I continued, "Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow, why then, oh why can't I?" I asked, smiling that Katya's eyes had begun to flutter, and pitched my voice lower, so that I wouldn't disturb her as she slipped off into dreamland. "If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?" I asked, sustaining the note as Judy had, although without the raw skill, before I pressed a kiss onto her forehead, leading John, Claire, and Jamie to do so as well, before I bent and placed her within the confines of her cradle, carved from English oak.

John placed an arm around my waist as we ventured out of the nursery, knowing that Bessie was on hand should Katya be hungry in the night; we also paid her more to tend to her clouts then as well, while Phaedre tended to them in the morning and afternoon, if need be. "That was lovely, my dear, simply lovely," he praised.

"Aye," Jamie said. "I ken that Brianna also sang that tune to Jem and Mandy..."

"Which makes sense," Claire said, "given that it is such a lovely song."

"How are they faring in Scotland?" John asked, having been told that they were visiting Jamie's relatives at Lallybroch. "It was a shame you missed them when Ian..." He cleared his throat as Jamie looked away, the loss of his brother-in-law still a sore subject.

"Roger had business in the Netherlands," Claire said, as it was an extension of the cover story for them not being in such close contact. "We only hope that they return to us soon..."

"Aye, and meet their sister," Jamie said, smiling warmly at me.

"You did not inform them of Alexandra's adoption into your family?" John asked.

"We sent a letter, but they could always return before reading it," Claire explained.

John nodded, knowing how long letters took to arrive at their intended destination. "Perhaps it is a conversation best explained in person," he said at last.

"Aye, Claire and I believed so as well," Jamie replied.

"We'd best go to bed if we wish to be on hand for Rachel tomorrow," Claire said softly.

I nodded. "Yes, we must prepare for the possibility, in any case." I embraced both Claire and Jamie, while John bowed respectfully to Claire and he and Jamie clasped shoulders, before we ventured toward the master bedroom of the house. I felt my skin prickle with delight as John shut the door behind us, before I reached behind me and began to pull at the strings at the back of my gown.

"Do you need some help?" John asked, no ulterior motives in his voice.

I peeked over my shoulder at him; the candles had been lit accordingly, so that our bodies created shadows on the walls. "If my husband would be so kind."

John stepped forward and unlaced my gown, automatically moving to step away from me once he had finished, but I took ahold of one of his hands and placed it upon the small of my back. His response was to inhale sharply. "Alexandra?"

I smiled, turning around fully to face him. "Claire says I am completely healed from Katya's birth," I told him, beaming. "If you would like... Well, I would very much like to resume my wifely duties..."

John shook his head. "You know entirely well that I do not subscribe to the belief that any of this is a duty, Alexandra."

I grinned, standing on my toes as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Perhaps not, but that does not negate the fact that I want you, John, desperately. If you are amenable to it, I would very much like to make love this evening—"

John whisked me into his arms, kissing me with such passion that I felt my toes curl within the confines of my expensive shoes. He crossed the bedroom, placing me upon the edge of the bed, and proceeded to take off said shoes, as well as gently pull my stockings down my legs. His lips found my legs shortly thereafter, and I gasped, trembling as they pressed kiss after kiss to the sensitive flesh, shaved this morning since Claire had informed me that it was safe to make love with John again, and slowly reached my core. "I can smell you, Alexandra..."

I flushed. "Oh... I took a bath this morning—"

John looked up at me, the flame of the bedside candle dancing in his eyes. "I did not say that it was a bad smell."

I felt my cheeks heating further. "John?"

John nosed his way forward, looking quite funny for a moment as my petticoats covered his brown head. "You smell as if you are ready, waiting, for me..."

I nearly choked at what my husband was implying, my legs turning to jelly, and the skin erupting in gooseflesh as he dipped his head further in between my legs. I gripped at the duvet, its softness keeping me momentarily grounded as he burrowed closer, his nose making contact with that bundle of nerves, while his tongue quested within my folds. I let out a sharp breath as he gently eased my legs further apart, his palms upon my knees as his tongue delved deeper. I trembled, a soft moan escaping my lips as I continued to shake around him, before I whispered, my voice ragged, "Do you want to try for a son?"

John immediately yanked himself backwards, his eyes locking to mine. "What?" he whispered, his own voice seemingly overwhelmed with the meaning behind my words.

"I said, 'Do you want to try for a son?'" I repeated patiently.

John's eyes filled with something akin to hope as he rose from his knees and stared deeply into my eyes. "I would like that more than anything, Lady John, but, I should warn you now, that I will be grateful for any child you choose to give me."

I felt myself smiling up at him, untangled my fingers from the duvet, and said, "Well, then we'd best get some practice in, shouldn't we?"

John knew precisely what he had to do to push all my buttons, although I did feel a bit disappointed as the rest of winter and spring had passed without conceiving a second child. I had plenty to occupy me, however, with tending to Katya as much as was appropriate, feeling relieved that John seemed pleased to be a father to such a young child. We worried when William didn't return home, but heard from John's and my nephew, Benjamin, that he was well and in good spirits. Other things that currently occupied our time was Jamie's appointment to general by George Washington, as well as a dinner invitation to their lodgings.

"Why would they send for you to go?" John asked, once Phaedre had finished dressing me, and tended to my hair, before leaving our bedchamber. "It could be seen as potentially scandalous for you to be there, given that you're the wife of a Loyalist."

I lowered my eyes to the fine, dark gray silk of the gown I was in; I wore a necklace, ring, and earrings made of moonstone as well, given to me by John in the wake of Katya's birth, but I hadn't had the occasion to wear any of it yet. "I realize who I am married to, John," I said quietly, before I met his eyes in the mirror, "however, I am not sorry that I do not share your opinion, not in this."

John's eyes widened. "What are you saying, Alexandra?"

I slowly got to my feet. "I am saying, John, that you married a Rebel," I told him quietly. "I understand that I must be seen as obedient to you, but I cannot be, not in this."

John shook his head. "It is one thing for Claire to be on the side of the Rebels, given that she is married to a general in their army," he said, "but you... You are married to me."

I pursed my lips. "John, please understand me... The settlers here came for freedom from their homeland, and wish to be free. How can you think that them being in control of Great Britain is lawful?"

"Because they are the subjects of King George, and of the Crown," John responded, his eyes filling with tears, "as you are."

More like a subject to a different King George, if we wish to get technical about it, I mused to myself, before I straightened my back and faced him head-on. "I may be a woman, John, as well as a wife, but I am permitted my own thoughts and feelings. I promise, I shall not be seen by the public, as Jamie and Claire have organized an unmarked carriage for me this evening. You need not fear; I shan't be home late."

"If it were up to me, I would forbid you from going at all," John said, his tone belligerent, as he followed me out of our bedchamber and down the staircase.

I blinked, nodding to Mrs. Figg in thanks as she procured my wrap—a light one for the early summer evening. "Oh? And is it not up to you, John, as my husband?"

John's mouth set into a firm, stubborn line. "Clearly, you have your own mind, Alexandra," he said, his voice that of a childish pout.

I crossed over to him, stood on my toes, and pressed a lingering kiss onto his cheek. "I love you, John, no matter if we share a difference of opinion or not."

John huffed, crossing his arms. "I love you, too, Alexandra."

I flashed him a smile as Mrs. Figg opened the door for me, and I stepped outside, spotting the carriage that Jamie and Claire had secured for me. "Frederick, wasn't it?"

The driver tipped his hat to me. "Lady John," he responded, opening the door for me and offering me his hand. "To the Fraser residence?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Frederick." I sat inside the carriage and smoothed my skirts before pulling down the curtains on either side; the driver had instructions to bring me around to the back of the house, just for safety and reputation purposes, whereupon I would go through the kitchen and into the back hallway, before arriving in the dining room like everyone else.

The sun was just setting as we arrived at Jamie and Claire's home, and Diana, one of their paid servants, was there to greet me. I got out of the carriage with Frederick's assistance, knowing that Jamie and Claire had paid him to wait, before I stepped inside with Diana. Diana was a lovely young woman, about Phaedre's age, who had been offered a place in my household beside Phaedre once Jamie and Claire had quit Pennsylvania.

"How are you this evening, Lady John?" Diana asked with a curtsy, her chocolate-brown eyes filled with kindness as she led me through the kitchen and towards the hallway.

"Well, thank you, Diana," I told her, smiling.

Diana led me to the entrance hall. "Nearly all the guests have arrived, but they have yet to sit down to supper," she explained, and held out her hands. "May I take your wrap, Lady John?" she asked, her tone gentle.

"Oh, yes, thank you, Diana," I told her, turning around so that she could take it from my shoulders with a small smile.

"Oh, Alexandra, you've arrived," said a warm voice, which belonged to Claire, as she breezed into the entrance hall, her dark blue gown not a bit out of place. "You look lovely. Thank you for seeing to her, Diana," Claire continued, her tone warm.

Diana curtsied to us both. "Of course, Madam Fraser. I will see to more supper preparations now, if you would excuse me," she said, hanging up my wrap, before returning to the kitchen.

"Come, I'm sure you will wish to meet General Washington," Claire said, smiling.

I nodded. "Yes, although it is a bit odd, knowing that I'm meeting him before he becomes the first President of the United States," I said softly.

Claire grinned, although she held a finger to her lips. "Come along," she said, and led me into the dining room, where many gentleman were milling about, leading me to the conclusion that Claire and I were the only ladies present. "Ah, there he is," she continued, nodding towards the opposite end of the room, where Jamie was engaged in conversation with two other men. Claire led us over efficiently, and Jamie spotted us almost immediately.

"Ah, General Washington, Your Grace," he said, and the two gentlemen turned in the direction he was looking, "our final guest has arrived for the evening. May I present Madam Fraser's and my daughter, Lady John Grey?"

"Oh mon Dieu, un espion loyaliste est parmi nous," said one of the gentleman, leading me to believe that this was not General Washington, as I knew entirely well that he only spoke English, quite shocking for a president.

I found myself smiling at the man, who likely didn't think that I spoke French; however, he was about to be in for a surprise. "Je pense que vous constaterez, Votre Grâce, que, malgré mon état matrimonial, je suis capable de me forger ma propre opinion dans cette guerre," I responded, in as polite a tone as I could.

General Washington, meanwhile, looked back and forth between us, his expression curious and not at all annoyed at not being able to understand us. "Forgive me, I have no French," he said at last, his voice that of a kind, patient father figure. "Perhaps you could inform me, my lady, as to what the marquis is saying?"

"Oh, you are the Marquis de Lafayette," I said, and curtsied promptly to him, as, technically, he had opened the door by referring to me under his breath. "A pleasure, Your Grace," I said smoothly, before I turned to General Washington. "I believe your friend here, sir, is worried that, due to my marital status of being married to a Loyalist, that I am, therefore, a spy. I merely informed him that I am capable of forming my own opinion on the matter, and that I am firmly on your side in this war."

General Washington, indeed, looked mightily impressed. "Perhaps we must make the acquaintance of Lady John Grey before we form opinions about her, Gilbert," he informed the marquis, smiling at me from his great height, about two inches taller than John. "I was unaware that you had another daughter, General Fraser."

"Aye, 'tis a recent acquisition, General Washington," Jamie responded easily, obviously used to varying circles of society.

"You see, my own mother and father were killed in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth," I said, giving the Founding Father a small smile. "Madam Fraser's uncle, who raised her, was a comrade of my own father, so it only made sense to come where they were residing. It was only when I met my husband that I became a titled lady, and then they afforded me the pleasure of joining their family."

General Washington nodded his head. "I am sorry for the loss of your mother and father, Lady John, terribly sorry."

"Please, Lady John is so formal, sir; call me Alexandra, I insist," I told him.

The man nodded his head. "Madam Fraser has already had the pleasure of meeting my wife, as General Fraser and Gilbert have, but I would very much like for you to meet Martha as well," he said, guiding both Claire and me towards the table, Jamie and the marquis following us. "I wish I had a daughter to introduce you too, but our dear Eliza passed away six years ago, while our granddaughters are simply babies."

"I have a daughter," I said quietly as we neared the table.

"Do you?" the general asked, his interest piqued. "What is her name?"

"Katharina is her name," I responded, "Katharina Claire Benedicta Grey."

"That is a lovely, strong name," General Washington informed me, smiling. "Benedicta is, I presume, the mother of your husband?"

"She is, although I have yet to meet her, given that I have not been to England in some time," I said, knowing that John would want to travel there eventually, to introduce me to his mother, as well as his stepfather, Sir George Stanley. "In fact, she is married to a knight, who happens to share your name, general."

The general laughed. "It is a good, strong name, I grant you."

"Although, I believe it is likely more for their king than anything else," I quipped.

The general stopped walking, while all other conversations seemed to cease in the room, with all eyes turning to gaze upon us, each gentleman holding their breath. "You refer to His Majesty King George as 'their king', and not 'our king'."

I nodded, hoping that I hadn't said the wrong thing. "Of course, sir, for he is their king by his very birthright. His power should not exceed across the Atlantic Ocean, however, as the pilgrims, as well as other settlers, came here for freedom, as well as to get away from his policies. Should he not, then, permit them, permit us all, to live how we wish?"

General Washington turned to regard Jamie, his eyes wide. "How has it taken you this long to introduce us to your daughter, General Fraser?" he asked, immediately grinning from ear to ear while his eyes sparkled with childlike joy.

Jamie bowed respectfully to him. "Apologies, general. An oversight I shall not make again."

General Washington chuckled good naturedly as he waved it away, before bringing us towards the table, a clear signal to the other gentlemen present that he wished for supper to begin. He placed me and Claire to his left, while Jamie sat to his right, opposite us. The marquis took the place on Claire's other side, engaging her for conversation whenever he could, obviously not pleased with me. I couldn't fathom why, other than the notion that it was entirely possible that I had embarrassed him with my ability to speak French.

"General and Madam Fraser tell me you were educated in England," General Washington said, which caused me to look over at him, over our respective bowls of pepper pot soup, which I ate sparingly, due to my inability to consume excess amounts of spice.

"I did, yes, general," I responded, smiling at him courteously. "My primary focus was on languages, history, and the subject of English. That is, of course, before I decided to begin my teacher training, which I managed to achieve before I returned to the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, where my parents were living."

"Yes, it is plain to see what your primary focuses were," muttered the marquis, in heavily accented English, on Claire's other side.

"Now, Gilbert," the general said, scolding him lightly as a father might do to his child in a public setting, "Lady Alexandra is our friend, and will be treated accordingly."

The marquis muttered something under his breath, not looking up.

"You must have missed your mother and father terribly," General Washington continued, when he realized he wouldn't be getting anywhere with the marquis.

"Oh, not too terribly, sir. We never really got along, you see. Different ideals, and I am fairly sure they would have supported King George in the war," I explained. "I shall never forgive them for separating me from my brother, of course."

"Ah, you have a brother?" General Washington asked.

I nodded. "I do, sir. Tobias. He lives in Chester and works as a legal practitioner, while my sister-in-law, Lydia, is a midwife."

"Now I know who I shall call if I need legal advice, for if he is your brother, my dear lady, I know I can trust him," General Washington declared.

Everyone finished with their pepper pot before the entrée, a sizeable cut of beef marinated with brandy, an individual potato pudding, peas, and carrots. I tasted a bit of everything, and did my best to answer General Washington's questions, although my head was beginning to pound. I knew it wasn't due to the brandy, as alcohol cooked out during food preparation, but something was off, and I needed to know what it was.

"Madam Fraser?" the marquis asked, and, turning, I saw him offering something to her, poised before her empty plate.

"Oui, merci," she responded softly.

I blinked, not altogether liking the sight of what was on offer, something of a jellied nature which did not look at all appetizing.

"For you as well, my lady?" the marquis asked.

I did my best to smile. "What is it, Your Grace?"

"Jellied eels!" he proclaimed proudly.

I felt my blood running cold. "Oh, that's very kind of you, Your Grace, but—"

"Nonsense, I insist!" the marquis said, and plopped a generous serving onto my plate.

"Claire," I whispered, hoping that he wouldn't hear, "I really can't—"

"Please, for me?" the marquis asked, staring over at me. "I regret that we got off on the wrong foot, madame. Perhaps this can remedy it?"

"It is amazing that Gilbert is sharing his delicacies," General Washington put in.

I trembled as I lifted my fork, his eyes upon me as I cut the smallest piece imaginable, saying a soft prayer in my mind as I brought it to my lips. The jellied consistency felt absolutely vile upon my tongue, which seemed to squirm about as I forced it down my throat. It only took a few moments for the swelling to begin, and I flexed my hands in an effort to stave off the itching that I was sure was to follow. I turned and looked over at Claire, dropping my fork as panic radiated through me, while I managed to gasp, "Help me, I feel so ill..."

Claire immediately got to her feet, while General Washington looked on with concern, and Jamie stood upon the other side of the table. "Jamie, get Diana now," she ordered, leading me out of the dining room without looking back. She took me directly to the master bedroom upstairs, her blue eyes filled with fear. "Why didn't you say something? Are you allergic to shellfish?"

"I... I tried!" I wheezed, stumbling up the staircase, while shouts were heard from below. I was brought into the bedroom where Claire sat me down. "I'm going to be sick..."

Claire fetched a basin and offered it to me, whereupon I lost the vast majority of my dinner. She waited patiently for me to finish, before she felt my forehead. "You're clammy..."

"I've got a headache, too," I admitted.

Claire crossed over towards her kit, bringing out some dried peppermint and bringing it over to me. "Chew this slowly, it should help," she said gently.

Diana quickly entered the room a moment later, a bit out of breath from running. "Madam Fraser, Lady John? What can I do?" she asked, looking at me with concern.

"I'm not sure," Claire said at last, tilting my head backwards and looking into my eyes. "How is your vision, Alexandra?"

I blinked, looking up at her. "It's all right," I told her. "I can see fine."

"It may just be an allergic reaction, unless..." Claire studied me for a moment. "When was the last time you bled?"

The bowl slipped from my hands and would have smashed onto the floor if it weren't for Claire's quick hands.

"Please dispose of this, Diana," Claire said gently, and Diana took it, leaving the room.

"April, I think? No... It was May," I corrected myself, while my voice shook.

"It's nearly July now," Claire said softly, telling me something I already knew. "You had told me that you and John were trying for another baby..."

I nodded, although the movement was shaky. "Since February at the earliest... I made a comment about him wanting a son and he agreed that we should try for one..."

Claire gave me a small smile. "Do you think you're pregnant?"

"I didn't, not until you said something," I admitted, feeling my shoulders hunching; I knew that this should be good news, although I couldn't help but think that it wasn't...

"Are you unhappy about it?" she asked. "Won't John be overjoyed?"

I sighed. "I told him this evening, before I left, that I was a Rebel," I admitted, and Claire nodded sadly at me. "I knew I had to tell him, of course I did, but I was waiting for the right moment to do so, but..."

Claire pulled a chair over to sit across from me, taking my hands in hers. "But?"

"But I needed a suitable reason to attend your supper tonight," I said at last.

Claire looked shocked. "You don't believe that John would have kept you prisoner, do you?" she asked, looking nearly furious.

I immediately shook my head. "No, I don't think so. I don't even think he's capable of that, to be honest; he is too good."

Claire smoothed my hands, obviously calming down. "Of course not," she agreed. "But he can't have been happy about you just suddenly coming out with it like that. It may have been a shock to say the least."

I nodded, knowing entirely well that she was correct. "I will admit that it was likely the worst opportunity to mention it to him, although I am glad it is out in the open now. There is so much I wish to tell him, but can't, given that the letters are dated..."

Claire squeezed my hands. "You could always attempt to tell him before the letters," she said at last, "and have him inspect them later."

I shrugged. "I know I could, but I'm unsure about how he would react..."

"How did he react this evening?" she asked.

"He was...cold, almost as if he was struggling to keep his temper with me," I answered. "I don't think he would ever hit me, because I know I would leave him, and take Katya, on the spot if he ever raised a hand to me. However, I am anxious about returning home tonight, because I'm worried that there will be an argument between us."

Claire gave me a soft smile. "Jamie and I have had dozens, if not hundreds, of arguments throughout our marriage, the worst one likely involving his second marriage," she said, and I nodded my head, recalling her telling me about it shortly before John and I had married, which she had framed as a cautionary tale to always be honest with your spouse.

I chewed slowly upon my lower lip. "I hate that I have the advantage of knowing more than he does, and yet, I also know that, should I tell him sooner, then he could potentially take that information and use it to the Loyalists' advantage."

"Remember Culloden, and how Jamie and I couldn't stop it?" Claire asked softly. "History is already set in stone, Alexandra. I doubt much can be done about it now."

I sighed. "It's four years until the Treaty of Paris," I whispered, looking up at her. "Anything could happen, Mama."

Claire's eyes swam with tears as I called her by the honorific for the first time, and promptly embraced me. "I want you to take the carriage and go home," she whispered. "I want you to tell John about your pregnancy, and hopefully resolve your differences."

I huffed slightly at that. "No rest for the weary," I muttered, and she laughed.

Claire accompanied me downstairs, where we were shocked to discover that General Washington and his company had left, but that he had left her a gift. "What is it?" she asked, and I watched as Jamie handed her the wrapped parcel.

Claire gasped slightly as I looked over her shoulder. "A flag," she breathed, running her fingers along the seams of the stars.

"He originally wanted a six-pointed star, you know, but the seamstress believed that a five-pointed one would be easier to stitch," I said softly.

"Aye, a Mistress Ross," Jamie put in. "General Washington spoke very highly of her."

I was relieved when both Claire and Jamie escorted me to the unmarked carriage, and I bid them farewell for the evening, telling Claire that I would see her soon. I watched as I pulled down the curtains around me how Claire whispered something to Jamie, who appeared very pleased, which led me to believe that she had shared my news with him, which I did not mind. I arrived home quickly, even paying Frederick some coin from my purse, which he seemed very pleased with, and went directly up the staircase, leading Mrs. Figg to open the door for me.

"Hello, Mrs. Figg," I said brightly, turning around so that she could remove my wrap as I shut the door behind me.

"Lady John," she answered, although her voice was shaky.

"What is it?" I asked, turning around. "Is something the matter?"

"Lord John has company," she whispered, her voice grave. "I think you'd best go see him."

I blinked, shocked at Mrs. Figg's words, all my joy about telling John we were going to have another baby going out the window as I quickly hurried towards the parlor, where we took all our company. As I approached the door, I heard John speaking, yet something in his voice caught me off guard. I knew that tone—my husband knew our visitor.

"I had heard you married again," said the second, unfamiliar voice.

"I did," John responded, his tone clipped. "How did you come by the surname of Beauchamp, when you were born with Wainwright?"

The second man chuckled. "It is my wife's name," he responded.

John huffed, and I could imagine him crossing his arms. "And are you actually sleeping with your wife?" he demanded.

"Sometimes, although I do sleep with her brother as well," he admitted, almost as if it did not matter that he was being unfaithful.

There were creaks along the floor, and I could sense by the footsteps that it was the second man who was walking. "Who hurt you, John?" he whispered.

I peered through the partially open door, somehow managing to contain my gasp as the second man touched John's cheek.

John, meanwhile, seemed to pull himself away from the man as if he had been burned, his eyes filled with sadness. "Someone who has permission to touch me," he nearly snapped. "State your business and be on your way," he ordered.

"You do not wish for your wife to see me, then?"

"Percy," John growled, obviously impatient.

The man—Percy—sighed. "It is William," he admitted, "your son. He is in danger. He has in his hands a letter, which is a cypher."

"A cypher?" John whispered. "What kind of cypher?"

"One which puts him in grave danger," Percy reported. "Once he delivers it, and it is read, he will be taken prisoner."

At that, I pushed the door open. "I was not aware that we had company," I said, strolling into the room, and deliberately positioning myself in between John and Percy.

"Ah, this must be your lovely wife," Percy said, not looking at all impressed.

John, to my surprise, too my arm in his, holding me as close as possible in front of a non-family member. "I am glad you are home, my dear," he answered, clearly annoyed with the other man's appraisal of me. "Percy, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Lady John Grey. Alexandra, darling, this is Percy Beauchamp, my stepbrother."

I immediately turned and looked up at my husband; I could tell that the pair had shared an intimate relationship, given that Percy had so freely touched him, but the notion that the man before us was his stepbrother—

"Tell us everything you know regarding William, Percy," John ordered, his voice firm, letting him know that there would be no further room for pleasantries—or, in this particular case, unpleasantries.

Percy awkwardly cleared his throat, seemingly resolved to tell us everything.