I stared at the piece of parchment in front of me as I sat in Claire's bedchamber with her, Jamie, and Ian. I had watched as Claire had written down the years from 1917 until 1944, which were done up in the same elegant script I'd learned while in school. I had been with them for exactly one week; Claire had urged me to have a light meal after I first met Jamie and Lord John, on my first day, before I took a brief nap in the room next to hers, and then I joined them for dinner, with Daphne changing me into the green gown our host, Mercy, had selected for me. I had then spoken to Lord John more during dinner, and every evening thereafter. He had seemed quite protective of me already, much to my surprise; I also met Denny, Rachel's elder brother, who was as kind as his sister was, and seemed pleased to have another person at the dinner table to be educated in England.

"I thought ye said that the Second World War ended, Auntie Claire?" Ian said, breaking the silence which enveloped the room. "According to what Alexandra's been saying, she was still in the thick of it..."

"I only know what I was told, and, given that everyone said it was over, we all knew it was over, due to the celebrations. After all, I was stationed at a field hospital in France, where many battles took place," she answered, her voice patient. "Alexandra, as she's already told us, was, truly, in the thick of it, as she was in Poland, where the mass exterminations took place."

"The foremost death camp that you hear about is Auschwitz, but my mother and father were top SS Guards at Treblinka, the second-most deadly camp," I informed Ian; I had wrapped my arms around myself sometime ago, in an effort to keep myself in check. "Men were typically in charge, but my mother, as well as other Aufseherins, who were the female guards, were capable of rising up the ranks. My mother was considered so deadly, so brutal, that she was the only woman, other than the prisoners, and guards' families, who was permitted on the grounds of Treblinka, which was considered a great honor..."

"Did ye ever meet any of the female guards?" Jamie asked, his expression stoic. "Claire has told me about some of them..."

"I knew Irma Grese; she was six years my junior, and tried to befriend me on multiple occasions, attempting to get me assigned with her at Auschwitz or Ravensbrück," I replied darkly. "I knew that no good would come of it; there were rumors that the Soviets would move to take the camps, but she wouldn't listen to me, and kept singing Hitler's praises, or the songs permitted..." I shook my head at that. "And then I left, I left like a coward..."

"Ye were no' a coward," Ian said quickly, reaching out tentatively and placing a careful hand upon my arm, which, to my surprise, did not frighten me as I believed it would. "Ye dinnae need tae say what they did to ye, Alexandra. They hurt ye..."

"Ian," Claire said gently.

"It's all right," I assured Claire, looking up at her, before I looked at Ian. "They did hurt me..."

"Ian, aren't you going to meet Rachel?" Claire asked him, rather pointedly.

Ian swore under his breath in Gaelic. "Aye, sorry," he said, squeezing my arm before he got to his feet, bowing to me respectfully, and clicking his tongue. "Come, Rollo," he commanded lightly, and his ever-loyal dog followed him out.

"Claire mentioned tae me about yer scars," Jamie said, once Ian had shut the door behind him, and held up his hand when I gasped with shock. "Nae, lass, dinnae fash. I was kept prisoner as a young man," he continued, and Claire took him by the hand, "where I was whipped repeatedly by my guard..."

"He was a sadist," Claire spat.

"Aye, that he was," Jamie agreed, "but ter have yer own mother come after ye like that..." He shook his head. "I cannae imagine the betrayal."

"I think being raped was worse," I replied darkly, and Jamie's breath hitched.

"I didn't tell him about that," Claire responded quickly. "I only mentioned yours scars because Jamie knew firsthand what it was like to deal with such a thing. I wasn't sure if you wanted anyone to know about..."

"I don't mind Jamie knowing," I said, giving them both a small smile. "It's hardly his fault, after all, and, perhaps, the pair of you can come up with a solution together. Perhaps you know of a young couple who could raise my child? I can hardly go on pretending to be a widow for the rest of my life, especially in this time period. People are bound to find out, given that Lord John was once a Redcoat, and his nephew, who currently resides under this roof, is one as well, imprisoned or not."

"Not to mention William," Claire said quietly, and turned back to me. "William is Lord John's son, so he comes to call often enough..." She looked over at Jamie, who nodded at her, before she looked back at me. "Jamie is William's biological father, but we haven't told him, none of us have."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is he Henry's age?" I asked tentatively; I had met Henry Grey briefly the night before, and he was every inch a gentleman, just like his uncle.

"He is three years younger," Jamie responded immediately, a small amount of pride in his voice; somehow, I knew it would likely be more, had Claire not been involved in the conversation, and he was diminishing it for her sake. "I ken ye've seen him with Mercy..."

I gave Jamie a small smile. "Yes, I believe almost everyone would see what I have," I replied, twisting the pilfered band of gold upon my finger. "I see nothing wrong with their relationship, of course, but I know society will, unfortunately, although they neither of them are committing any wrongdoings, at least, in my eyes."

Claire lowered her eyes onto the piece of parchment, whereupon she wrote down the year 1945, followed by a slash mark, and then 1948 until 1968. "These were the years I've lived in the future," she explained to me, and I inched forward, fully prepared for a history lesson, knowing that I would have to know certain things, if I ever made the decision to return to the timeline I'd been born into. "This," she continued, pointing to the slash, "was when I was transported back for the first time, where I met Jamie, married him, conceived our first child together, Faith. We went to France whilst I was pregnant with Faith, and attempted to stop the Battle of Culloden from happening, or, at least, taking out Charles Edward Stuart."

My jaw dropped at Claire's tale; although she wasn't much older than me when all of this had taken place, I couldn't fathom even attempting to pull off something of that nature. "What did end up happening?" I whispered.

"We had to kill my cousin, Dougal," Jamie answered darkly. "He discovered our plans, and, when we attempted to explain, he called Claire a witch. He mentioned going to the authorities, inasmuch as one could, when a country is as war-torn as Scotland was, which was when we made the decision to...end him..."

I nodded, although my motion was stiff. "I see," I said softly.

"Jamie also knew that I was pregnant," Claire said softly. "This was two years after I'd lost Faith in France; she came too early," she said, answering my unspoken question. "So, he led me to the stone circle in Scotland, close by Inverness, and sent me back to 1948. My first question, before I was taken to hospital, was who was the victor in Culloden. Thankfully, I wasn't branded insane, but was taken to a nearby hospital, where my first husband, Frank, also a historian, was called. I had been missing for a period of two years in my original timeline by that point, so he was, naturally, a bit shocked to find that, not only was I alive and well, but... Well," she said, leaning closer into Jamie's side. "I told him everything."

My eyes widened. "You told him everything?"

"I did," Claire confirmed. "I told him that I had traveled back in time two hundred years. I told him about his ancestor, Black Jack Randall, who successfully made both mine and Jamie's lives a live hell. I told him that, as I was an Englishwoman by birth, it wasn't safe for me to be roaming the wilds of Scotland alone, and so Jamie and I were married, initially by force, even though I later grew to love him." She turned and gazed at Jamie for a moment, before she lowered her eyes to their hands, their fingers knotted together. "And then, the greatest blow to Frank of all, was informing him that I was pregnant with Jamie's child."

"I cannot imagine that being a simple conversation, any of it."

Claire smiled a bit at that. "No, it wasn't," she agreed. "What I didn't tell him was that I had never been in love with him; I did love him, and cared about him, of course, but...things were so natural with Jamie, in a way they never were with Frank." She hesitated for a moment. "I always believed that I would never have children, as Frank and I, before I traveled back for the first time, tried for years to conceive a child. I always believed that there was something wrong with me, for it never happened for us. And then, with Jamie, I conceived not once, but twice, and, after thinking it over, Frank decided he wanted to remain married to me."

I blinked. "He wanted children, too, then?"

"Yes," Claire said softly. "He told me to forget my past, however, and wanted to raise the baby as ours. I wasn't to mention Jamie, or Scotland, or do any further research into Culloden. I was to be his wife again, and play the part of a professor's wife. Then, he told me of a job opportunity he had in Boston; he was offered a position on staff at Harvard University. I knew it was a top school overseas, and so I agreed to go with him, as we'd decided to start over. It wasn't easy, putting my past behind me, but I knew that Frank would be an excellent father towards Brianna, and he was."

Jamie stiffened slightly at that, looking away, leading me to believe that Frank was as sore a subject to him as William was for Claire.

"It didn't last, however, and, by the time Brianna was in primary school, we were leading separate lives, but were being discreet—no extramarital partners at the house, and certainly nowhere near Brianna." Claire looked as if she was far away for a moment, before she straightened her shoulders and continued her tale. "We neither of us told Brianna the extent of it, not really. At least, I didn't. I decided to go to medical school, and trained as a surgeon, leading to some resentment with Brianna, as Frank's hours were more reliable than mine, so they had a stronger bond at that time."

Slowly, I reached outwards, finding Claire's hand, where it still rested upon the small table between the three of us. "I don't want to say anything negative towards Brianna, but at least she had a mother," I said quietly. "I'm sure you've worked things out by now, but I would have given anything to have a mother who loved, and cared, for me."

Claire gave me a soft smile, turning over her hand and clasping it in mine. "Thank you. And yes, although we have mended fences, it is still a difficult time to remember."

I lowered my eyes to the piece of parchment underneath our joined hands. "When does the war end, then?"

"1945," Claire answered. "Around one year after you fled, ironically. Of course, one never knows for sure when a war will end, and I certainly don't blame you for taking flight when you did. Given your parents' positions, you may have..."

Jamie squeezed Claire's arm for a moment.

"Well," Claire said, sighing. "Best not think about it. What you should know is that Hitler and his lover, Eva Braun, who reportedly were married, took their own lives in April of 1945. We don't know for sure if he dealt the final blow to them both, or if they respectively poisoned themselves. No witnesses, of course..."

I nodded. "Of course."

Claire pointed to various years that she had lived in the future, pointing to 1950 – 1953, and told me that that was when the Korean War had transpired. Next, she pointed to 1955, and told me about the Vietnam War, which, she stated, was still going on when she time traveled to the past for the second time in 1968. "Astronauts were about to land on the moon," she said quietly. "I saw one of their missions before I left, and saw pictures of its surface on television. It was a truly beautiful, surreal experience."

I smiled, thinking of men, so far away from the Earth, taking photographs of the moon, suspended in the galaxy. "To go to the moon," I said softly, "would definitely be a great adventure."

Claire smiled slowly at that. "Reminiscent of Peter Pan," she said quietly.

"I saw it on stage when I was in school, in England," I replied. "We saw several plays. The family I was with was very generous, and we saw one every month. At school, they were encouraged as well, and we would see many Shakespeare ones. Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Ophelia... I suppose I just wished for a happier ending, once in a while, although Much Ado About Nothing did confuse me."

"Lord John likes Shakespeare," Jamie declared, almost as if he was a small schoolboy while imparting the information. "He will love discussing it with ye, lassie."

"Jamie, for God's sake," Claire said, smacking his arm gently. She turned at the sound of a knock on the door, and uttered, "Yes?"

The door opened and Daphne stood there. "Begging your pardon, Madam Fraser, but Lord John is looking for Miss Hathaway."

I blinked, surprised at that, but rose to my feet, straightening my long skirts, something that Claire had demonstrated to me the night before. "Thank you, Daphne. Would you let him know that I'll be down in a moment, please?"

Daphne gave me a small smile. "Yes, of course, Miss Hathaway. Lord John will be awaiting you in the parlor," she said, and shut the door behind her.

I turned to look at Claire, who had gotten to her feet as well. "What do you suppose he wants?" I asked her, a bit confused.

Claire shook her head, giving Jamie a wary expression, as he seemed a bit too delighted at the prospect of Lord John asking for me. "I've no idea," she answered. "Are you all right with speaking to him alone?" she asked, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Do you want me to accompany you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'll be all right," I assured her. "You and Jamie have been so kind to me, treating me with such patience, compassion, and understanding. You've been separated for several weeks, and should take some time together. I promise we'll spend some more time together later, if, of course, you would like to."

"Of course we do," Claire said warmly, looking over at her husband again. "Jamie?"

"Aye, lass," Jamie said assuringly. "I ken we'll be speaking quite often."

My gaze shifted back to Claire, although we mutually agreed that we didn't know what Jamie was on about, so I put a small smile on my face before quitting the room. I shut the door behind me and walked over to the staircase, holding tightly onto the banister as I went, not wishing to spend my second day in the past in a sick bed, should I wind up taking a tumble. I crossed from the staircase and directly into the parlor, pushing the door open, and watched as Lord John quickly got to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Miss Hathaway," he said, his tone rather breathless.

I approached him and gave a short curtsy; he really didn't stand on ceremony, however, I had been brought up to be polite to titled individuals, which was certainly not something one could merely turn off, even if separated by two hundred years by one's family. "Lord John. Are you all right? Is anything amiss?"

"No," he said quickly, his brow furrowing, almost as if he was mentally scolding himself. "No, nothing is amiss, it is only..."

"Yes?" I asked, when he went silent.

"I... I usually take a walk at about this time, and I was rather hoping that you would join me," he said at last, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

I raised my eyebrows, unsure if that was what he was truly going to ask, but decided to go along with it. I hadn't seen much of Philadelphia anyhow, and, with a Redcoat, even a former one, by my side, I wasn't likely to be questioned directly by anyone. "Is it... Is it safe?" I asked, peering through the curtains from where I stood.

"Ah, you are wondering about your lack of papers," Lord John said.

I swallowed, lowering my eyes. "I didn't arrive here in the best circumstances, Lord John," I said softly, knowing that I could trust him in the rational sense, but didn't want to risk branding myself as a "fallen woman", despite it fitting my description accurately. "I must confess that, when Claire found me, we informed the soldiers that I was afflicted with Rubeola. I am not," I told him, as he moved to step back, "afflicted with it, I assure you. It is merely something else, something not catching, I assure you."

Lord John looked me over, but said nothing directly, almost as if he wanted to spare my feelings on the matter, complex as they were. "I trust Claire Fraser with my life, as she is the wife of a dear friend, and saved the live of my nephew," he replied at last. "Claire, as well as Jamie, obviously trust you, so I will afford you the same treatment."

I blinked, shocked. "Thank you."

"You need not worry about the soldiers," he continued. "They never question me, and, if you are seen walking with me, they will not do so either."

I trembled slightly then, but nevertheless nodded my head, my curiosity to see the city overtaking my sense of being rational. "All right," I said at last, turning on my heel and going out into the hallway. I looked up at the series of pegs by the door, and lifted down the modest cloak that Mercy had previously set out for me, which I draped around my shoulders as Lord John stepped out into the hallway as well. "Shall we?"

Lord John smiled, crossing beside me and opening up the door, which he permitted me to pass through before shutting it behind him. He offered me his arm before going down the short set of stairs, and, surprisingly, did not release me, even when we stepped onto the pavement. "Claire tells me that your father was a friend of her uncle's."

"Yes, they were in a similar line of work," I answered.

"Archeology?"

I swallowed. Dammit, Claire; of course your uncle had a career in something I know next to nothing about! "Yes," I said, smiling. "However, I'm not very good at the subject, My father was deeply disappointed in me that I didn't follow in his footsteps in his work." Well, that's certainly not untrue, Hathaway, I told myself.

"What did your mother do? Did she work?"

"She trained as a nurse," I answered, not adding, And she experimented on Jewish people in the internment camp for research purposes, although I think it was actually to feed her sick nature when it came to figuring out if we all had the same body parts. "I had the opportunity to train as well, but I always liked history, and teaching was considered a suitable profession, so I took that route within my education."

Lord John smiled. "You must remember dates and facts exceptionally well."

"I do," I confirmed. "One of my teachers taught us about the monarchy. I always believed it to be particularly fascinating, although I do wish we'd had more female monarchs. Such a shame we've only had six in total," I said softly.

"Five, if you count Lady Jane Grey, and not many do," Lord John responded.

I flushed deeply. Dammit, you've counted Queen Victoria—think fast Hathaway, think fast— "I have never been good at mathematics, unfortunately," I said, giving Lord John an embarrassed smile. Well, that is true, I mused. "History and English literature were always more my forte when it came to school subjects."

"Your language, the way you speak, is so like Claire," Lord John observed as we rounded the bend, onto the main thoroughfare, where carriages, soldiers, and other passersby carried on with their lives. "I don't believe I have ever heard someone speak like Claire Fraser, until you, Miss Hathaway."

"You really don't need to call me that," I told him gently.

Lord John lowered his eyes to my hand, which held his arm still. "Would you prefer to be addressed by your married name, then?"

I shook my head at him. "No, I..." I shuddered at the very thought of it, of my family finding out about my pregnancy, and being forced into marriage with Christoph Hunfried; it made my very skin crawl. "This ring belonged to my mother."

"Oh, I see," Lord John said, nodding. "I take it that they are no longer with us, your mother and father?"

More like not even born yet, I thought to myself. "No, they don't walk the Earth," I said, hoping that he accepted my answer.

"I lost my father a number of years ago," Lord John said quietly. "My mother, Benedicta, however, is still alive and well."

"I am sure that you, and your elder brother, Hal, are a credit to her," I told him softly, and he looked down at me, his eyes holding kindness. "Of course, it was inappropriate of me to address him so casually—"

Lord John laughed. "I shall not inform him," he assured me. "I rather enjoyed it."

"You seem rather accepting of informality," I said softly.

Lord John shrugged. "I was born the second son, after all, merely a 'lord' as a courtesy of my father being both a duke and an earl. It never fully appealed to me, the formality of it all, but I am thankful that I was able to give William the childhood he deserved."

"Jamie and Claire informed me about him," I said softly, and Lord John's eyes snapped to mine again. "Don't worry—he won't be hearing it from me. The decision to tell him lies with you and Jamie, I think, for although you raised him, I'm sure it pains Jamie that he was unable to be there as often as he would like. Naturally, I am positive that he would have selected no one better as his father."

Lord John's expression warmed. "You are truly unique, Alexandra," he breathed.

I felt myself trembling ever so slightly as he addressed me by my first name for the first time. "I take that as a compliment, John," I answered.

"Ian and Miss Hunter typically go to the market to collect herbs for various tonics and the like for Dr. Hunter," John explained patiently, obviously tickled by my addressing him by his own first name. "I have a short list from Jamie, detailing Claire's needs for the day. Would you mind accompanying me to the market to fetch them?"

I smiled; this was something I could be good at. "Yes, of course," I responded. "I'd be only glad to help Claire."

"I thought you might," John answered, leading the way to the open farmer's market in the center of town, in between a cluster of buildings, which featured a great tent, in which several merchants had small booths set up for their wares. "According to the list," John stated, bringing it out of his coat pocket, "we need to purchase basil, comfrey, ginger, horehound, Lady's mantle, milk thistle, and thyme."

I kept my smile in place as we neared the stalls of the market; the ginger was for me, as Claire had mentioned a lovely ginger tea she concocted for Brianna when she was pregnant with her daughter, Mandy, to keep away morning sickness. I knew that I would try anything, and agreed to have some, but, when Claire checked her stores, she realized she was out, and so I had to make due with dry bread in the meantime, merely taking small bites of it to potentially keep my nausea at bay.

"I believe we can make quick work of this," John was saying, as we ventured towards one of the herb vendors, and he showed off the list.

The gentleman running the booth was exceptionally helpful, selling us the basil, comfrey, Lady's mantle, and thyme, before pointing us in the right direction for horehound and milk thistle.

"Surely, someone will know where we can procure the ginger," John mused. "I wonder what Claire could possibly need it for. No one in the house is ill; at least, Henry isn't afflicted by nausea much these days."

I flushed, deliberately avoiding eye contact with John. "It's for me," I said at last. "I'm... I'm ill, I suppose."

John peered at me for a moment, paying the second vendor and thanking them, before being persuaded towards another booth, which, according to that vendor, specialized in roots, where we'd be able to fetch some lovely ginger at a decent price. "What ails you?"

I shook my head at him. "Not here, please."

John nodded in understanding, and we ventured towards the third vendor together, purchased the ginger, and made our way out of the market. He deliberately walked more slowly down the pavement, as if he was truly worried for my heath, his eyes never leaving my frame. "What are you afflicted with?" he asked softly.

"I told you that I was teaching children in Poland," I said softly, and he nodded. "Well, when I was at the school, another professor expressed an interest in me. His family and mine were well acquainted, and I knew my parents would approve if an association bloomed between us. I didn't want one to, however, as he believed in other things, things that are much too terrible to discuss or even consider, so I attempted to dissuade him from his interest in me..."

"But, he was...determined?" John guessed.

I nodded, keeping my gaze straight ahead, although I was fully aware of his eyes upon me with each step we took. "Yes," I answered.

John stopped walking, waiting for me to look up at him and, when I did, he asked me softly, "I am to assume that you were attacked?"

I gave him a short nod. "I was."

John looked around, and when he realized that no one was standing very close to us, he pitched his voice lower and whispered, "Were you raped?"

I trembled again, actually feeling Christoph's hands upon me so dramatically that I forcefully yanked myself away from John and continued down the pavement.

"Alexandra, wait, please!" John called out, easily catching up to me and catching ahold of my arm, to the point where he impeded my walking progress.

"Let me go!" I begged him, staring straight ahead, remembering Christoph pinning me down in the darkness, the muck gathering beneath my fingernails, the press of his lips to my neck, as his teeth came out, temporarily branding my skin with a bruise that I always felt, despite it vanishing weeks before. "Let me move, please! I can't...I can't..." I breathed shallowly, knowing that I had to say something, anything. "You need to move," I whispered. "You need to stand in front me. I can't... I can't continue this conversation with you behind me. Please..."

John released me, but came around me as I'd requested in my broken voice, his eyes never leaving my face. "Dear God in heaven, what did he do to you?"

I shook my head. "He tortured me," I broke out, nibbling my lips so repeatedly that I was fully sure that they would, quite soon, be bitten to the quick.

John raised his hand, and I startled back with a sharp gasp, but his hand was gentle as he softly removed my bottom lip from the confines of my teeth. "I don't mean to frighten you, Alexandra," he uttered softly, "please forgive me."

"It... It isn't you," I assured him, still trembling, suddenly aware of the people walking around us all again, and feeling the coldness of shame eating away at me again, as it had done that night in the darkness, when Christoph had taken me by force.

"What was this man's name?"

"Christoph," I whispered, my voice quiet. "You wouldn't be able to find him, no matter how much you scoured the world, you wouldn't be able to find him..."

"I have contacts all throughout Europe," John assured me quickly. "I would never rest until that man is brought to justice—"

"No, John, you can't," I told him firmly, my eyes finally meeting his again. "Just leave it. I am begging you to leave it."

John searched my face, troubled. "What are you hiding from me?"

"A great deal, John," I said, my voice emphatic; how I wanted to trust him completely, as Jamie and Claire did, although they had not shared her secret with him. As I wrapped my arms around myself again, I felt the lashings upon my back, as well as the etching, cruelly carved underneath my left arm, that my mother had carved into my skin, when I had informed her that I was uninterested in Christoph, but she, like she informed me the rest of society would believe, claimed I had encouraged him. "There is so much about me that you cannot know..."

John's eyes never left mine, and he asked, "Are you with child?"

My eyes immediately looked away from him, as I felt the cold hand of dread make contact with my body and attempt to strangle me. "John, please don't..."

"Jamie Fraser is protective of his own," John said quietly.

I shook my head. "I am hardly his own. He barely knows me..."

"But Claire has informed him of you, for years, so it is as if you are a member of his own family now," John told me gently. "He will see that you are provided for."

"It is not his responsibility," I said, my voice breaking. "I made my own bed, now I must lie in it, and face the consequences."

"The consequences? You mean the great shame that society dictates when it comes to ladies in your unfortunate position?" he demanded, his voice raising then as I raised my head and looked as far away from him as I possibly could, tears staining my cheeks. "How is that a proper life, Alexandra? How could any of it possibly be a life, especially towards the ladies who were wronged in this situation?"

I shook my head. "I have been wronged for years, John," I said softly, and moved to walk past him, but mentally cursed when he fell into step beside me. "Who is to say that I will continue to be so?"

"Because of the child you're carrying," John shot back.

I looked over at John and glared at him. "I know you have no loyalty to me, Lord John Grey, but can I at least persuade you to keep your voice down? You are, by all accounts, a gentleman, and you are behaving so unlike one at the moment that it is driving me mad."

"I am merely worried for your safety within societal circles," he informed me persuasively. "I hear you mean to return to Fraser's Ridge with Jamie and Claire."

"Yes?" I asked, continuing to stare straight ahead. "What of it?"

"It is a small community, Alexandra..."

I laughed aloud at that. "You consider ten-thousand acres to be 'small', John? My goodness, I would want to know your definition of 'large' next."

John reached outwards again, grabbing ahold of my arm more roughly, this time enabling his strength to turn me around so that I was face to face with him. "This is not a joke, Alexandra Hathaway," he said firmly, his eyes blazing, and I was too surprised at his action, as well as his reaction, to even consider being this close to a man. "You could easily ruin both Jamie and Claire's reputations in one fell swoop."

I swallowed, my entire body growing cold. "It is so nice to know that your only concern is for the two of them," I said nastily, before yanking myself out of his hold and continuing down the pavement, away from him.

"My concern is not only for—dammit, Alexandra, listen to me!" John shouted, finally losing his temper as we turned onto the street where Mercy's house was, before he pulled me into the small enclave the back of the house had to offer. "I am concerned for you, Alexandra, more than I ever thought possible to be concerned for a lady that I had only been acquainted with for a week."

I lowered my eyes, my fingers knotting themselves together. "You needn't be concerned for me, John, although it is appreciated, I assure you..."

John sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have driven me mad this past week, Alexandra, and I cannot understand why."

"I am deeply sorry to have caused you such torment, John. Please accept my regret for it. I can assure you, it wasn't intentional," I replied, before turning to walk back into the house and away from him, although my heart was pounding. I would have gotten inside the back door as well, which led to the kitchen, were it not for John reaching out again and taking ahold of my hand, the gentleness of the action a surprise to me.

"Wait," John whispered, and I slowly turned my head around to look at him, "please."

I swallowed, but nevertheless ventured back down the rear steps and stood in front of him. "I am sorry, John, really," I said quietly.

John nodded. "I know you are. It is not entirely your fault, Alexandra, for some of the blame lies with me, I'm afraid."

I blinked. "How could any of the blame possibly lie with you?"

John appeared to be slightly nervous at my question. "The fact remains that I had considered remarrying for some time," he admitted, and my breath caught. "When I first made your acquaintance one week previous, I believed that I had found a suitable wife."

"And now you are reconsidering that," I said, giving a slow nod. "I can understand that. Given my perceived promiscuity, one can only imagine what your family would think. I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation—"

John, however, shook his head. "No, it hasn't cooled my resolve, Alexandra, I assure you."

"I don't wish to be married to be saved," I said flatly.

"Did you ever wish to be married?"

"Yes, of course," I answered. "As a Catholic, it was drilled into me from girlhood that I should find a suitable man to marry." I gave John a soft smile. "It's not as if it would be anything other than name only."

John looked around, his eyes widening. "What do you know?"

"It may have crossed my mind that you..." I lowered my voice. "...don't prefer the fairer sex, but I hardly blame you for it. It is not my business."

John sighed. "I was married once before."

I nodded. "Yes, I know."

"I had no issues sharing a bed with Isobel," John told me quietly.

I swallowed; the concept of sharing a bed with anyone was daunting to me, although, in this time period, I knew that many husbands stayed out of their wives' way whenever they were expecting a baby, which would give me a little time to consider John.... "Do you actually want to marry me, then, John?" I found myself asking, but I was unable to keep the slight quiver of fear from my voice, as I could hardly believe it myself.

"I do," John said immediately. "And I would raise your child as my own."

I lowered my eyes to the golden band, pilfered from my mother's jewelry box, and removed it from my finger. A sense of relief came over me at the action, and, as I looked up at John, I believed that, at last, freedom could be achieved. "All right, then," I said. "Would you like me to convert for you?"

John looked shocked. "I would never force you to do such a thing, although it would certainly make things easier when it comes to the officiant..."

"Very well, then. I will be baptized on Sunday, in your church of voice, by your priest of choice, and we will be married whenever you like."

Offering him my hand, which he took, I led him into the house, where we walked through the kitchen, where he gave quick greetings to Daphne, who was kneading some dough for our dinner, stepped through the hallway, and came into the parlor, where Ian, Rachel, Jamie, Claire, and another tall gentleman stood, all conversing. John ensured that they all saw us holding hands, and the tall gentleman stepped forward.

"Father?"

"William," John said warmly, "I am so pleased you're here."

"I came to see Henry," William replied awkwardly. "Madam Fraser tells me that his condition is better, and I am much relieved."

"As we all are," John said.

I noticed that while Jamie looked pleased, Claire appeared wary, Ian and Rachel curious, and Rollo's ears had perked up at our arrival.

"William, I would like to introduce you to Miss Alexandra Hathaway," John was saying, and my eyes strayed back onto William's.

I gave him a small smile before I curtsied to him, and waited for him to speak, for, as I'd been made aware, William was an earl.

"Please, stand, Miss Hathaway," William said, and took my hand to rise me up himself. "How do you do, Miss Hathaway?"

"I am very well, thank you, Your Grace. I hope you are well, as well. I am as pleased as you are at your cousin's recovery," I said softly.

William nodded. "Yes, we were all very worried for him. I'm told you are an old friend of Madam Fraser's, so you are, of course, a friend of mine as well..."

"She will be more than a friend quite shortly, William," John said quickly, and William looked over at his adopted father for a moment.

"Father?" he asked.

"I have asked Miss Hathaway to be my wife, and she has accepted," John proclaimed. "We shall be married next week."

I watched as the room erupted, with Jamie clapping his hands together merrily, Claire's eyes widening a mere fraction, William staring in an awestruck manner at his father, Ian shouting with excitement, Rachel ran towards me and embraced me, and Rollo barked, thumping his tail onto the floor.