When I opened my eyes and surveyed my surroundings, I was struck dumb when I realized that John was not on the other side awaiting me. I had only been gone a matter of days, at least, I had believed I had, and he had sworn to stay at a local inn, only to come to the stones at precisely the same time each afternoon, in an attempt to find me. I decided to give him the opportunity to come, so I waited, standing by the stone, but, when one hour had passed, and then two, I began to grow worried.

With not one horse to speak of my name, I knew that the next solution would be to go to Lallybroch, in the hopes that Jenny would be there. Tugging the cloak around me, I made my way in the proper direction, aided by the compass Brianna had given me, knowing that I had to hurry, as it would be dark in a matter of hours. I managed to find the correct road, and kept going in that direction, hoping beyond hope that Lallybroch would prove to be welcoming.

Once the Scottish castle came into view, I felt a sense of vindication and victory, although I knew that Jenny would listen to me, once an earful was given about John not coming to fetch me when it was agreed upon. I passed through the gates at the end of the bumpy path, noting how terribly quiet it seemed, almost two quiet. I kept a good grip upon my bag, filled with clothing for the period, and made my way up the stone steps, making my hand into a fist and knocking at the door, my arm trembling as I did so.

I very nearly stumbled backwards as the door opened, and a man with a wooden leg answered the door, his blue eyes kind, yet filled with confusion. "Ian," I breathed, knowing entirely well that something had gone wrong, for this man was dead in 1781.

"Eliza," he answered, although his tone was riddled with confusion. "I thought ye were gone tae London tae visit some friends."

I felt my eyes widen considerably at that; Auntie Eliza had mentioned she'd gone forward in time again, and had ended up in the Blitz. I must have inadvertently traveled back to the 1750s, thirty years before I was meant to. "Aye, I was meant tae," I answered, doing my very best to copy my aunt's accent, picked up from being married to a Scot, but with a definite British flare to it, thank goodness. "The carriage was delayed, and I had tae turn back. I hope ye dinnae mind me coming here," I said at last.

"No', I dinnae mind," Ian Murray assured me, stepping back and out of the way to permit me entrance into Lallybroch. "Jenny is just upstairs. Ardsmuir was hard for him, but Jamie was sent back just this afternoon in a cart."

"Jamie?" I whispered, remembering the description from what Jenny had told me, in the aftermath of his prison sentence, after the Battle of Culloden.

"Aye, I ken it's been a while since ye've seen him," Ian continued, shutting the door behind me with a sorry expression. "He's not well... He told us that Claire was dead."

I felt a lump entering my throat at the very thought of it; of course, I couldn't tell them what I knew, not now, given that they had mistaken me for my aunt. I knew that, if I did see Jamie, I could tell him who I was, as he would believe me, as he had done Claire. Or, perhaps, he would think me mad—

"Oi, lads!" Ian was shouting, and, turning, I saw two young boys running about. "No' of that when we have company, ye ken. Greet Mistress Chisholm properly."

The older of the two lads immediately stepped forward; he had clear blue eyes and a mop of curly, brown hair. "Good day, Mistress Chisholm."

I took in the shape of his face, and remembered, suddenly, who this must be, given the hints of French within his voice. "Good day tae ye as well, Fergus," I said softly.

The second lad stepped forward after the first had stepped back. "Good day tae ye, Mistress Chisholm," he said eloquently.

"And good day tae ye as well, Jamie," I said softly, remembering that this was the firstborn child, and son, of Jenny and Ian, as well as the eldest brother of the Ian I knew.

The two other lads had to be Michael and Ian, and although they greeted me, it was that of a childlike language, not easily understood, but I smiled at them and greeted them anyhow, knowing that it must be awkward for them to do so with a virtual stranger.

Ian looked up at the quick footsteps upon the staircase, shooing the lads off to play elsewhere, as if he knew who was coming downstairs. "Jenny," he said, once his considerably younger wife came into view.

Jenny caught sight of me, before she promptly bustled towards me and threw her arms around me, as if in relief. "Mòran taing," she breathed, holding me close, and I found myself accepting the embrace, though it was not for me. "Could ye please go and sit with Jamie?" she whispered to me, not letting me go just yet. "I need tae start supper..."

"Of course I will, Jenny," I assured her, holding onto her for as long as she needed, before turning her loose as she began to pull away. "Just straight upstairs, then?"

"We've put him in the laird's bedchamber, tae assure his comfort," she said, appearing worried, and I nodded my head at her.

"Of course," I said again, knowing where that was, as I moved through the entry way, the parlor, and up the stairs. I counted the doors until I arrived at the laird's room, before I turned the handle and stepped inside. I shut the door behind me, which seemed to catch Jamie off guard, as I made my way over to the bed, and set down my bag. "Jamie?" I asked tentatively, fighting everything within me to call him 'Da'.

Jamie blinked, turning his head to look up at me. "Eliza?" he whispered, his voice confused, as if he wasn't expecting me.

I sighed, perching upon the chair beside the bed. "No, although your family does think I am," I answered, and this caused Jamie to look alarmed. "It is all right, you're safe. I am related to Eliza—I am her niece, born to her twin sister, Erica," I explained further, unknowing how long I would have to speak to Jamie unsupervised.

Jamie still appeared bewildered. "If ye are no' Eliza, then who are ye?"

"My name was once Alexandra Hathaway," I said softly, "although it is Alexandra Grey now, but, it isn't..." I bit my lip, wondering how to explain this. "You will meet a younger version of me, in Pennsylvania, in 1778, when I am twenty-seven. I am nearly thirty-three now."

Jamie's eyes widened. "Ye are a traveler?" he whispered.

I nodded at him, pleased that he had figured it out on his own. "Yes," I answered.

"Do ye know my wife, Claire?"

I nodded again. "Yes, I know Claire, quite well, in fact," I confirmed. "I will meet her just before I meet you, and she will tell you that I am a traveler as well. Now that I think about it, you did appear to recognize me from somewhere, at the time. I suppose this is why," I said softly.

Jamie appeared torn. "Does... Does our child live?" he breathed.

I smiled at the notion of Brianna MacKenzie, alive and well, in 1981. "Yes," I told him. "Your child is absolutely wonderful, and one of my dearest friends."

Jamie sighed. "Ye will not tell me if it is a lad or a lass?"

I shook my head. "No. That is for Claire to tell you, when you see her again."

There was a commotion from down below, followed by Ian's curses and Jenny's shouts, and I was altogether shocked when a much younger Hal Grey appeared on the threshold of the laird's chambers at Lallybroch. He hesitated on the threshold, his eyes gazing upon me for a second too long, before he turned to Jamie. "James Fraser, we have orders to escort you to England."

I got to my feet slowly, shielding Jamie from his view. "Then you will take me with him, Your Grace," I told him, my tone stubborn.

Hal Grey measured me up. "Do I know you, Mistress...?"

"Hathaway," I said, uncaring now if Ian or Jenny heard me from downstairs. "And no, sir, you do not know me."

My stubbornness won out, and Jamie and I were taken in a cart out of Lallybroch, and up the long road towards England. Jamie rode in shackles, of course, as any prisoner would, and I wondered where our ultimate destination would be. Nine days of hell later, we arrived at a lovely estate, which I instinctively knew to be Helwater, home of the Dunsany family. I turned and looked over my shoulder at Jamie, who was exhausted from the journey, but, clearly, knowing that this was an extension of his punishment for fighting for Scottish Independence. I got down and out of the cart, my legs shaking slightly from the journey, and stood by as Hal got Jamie down from it as well, pushing him ahead of us.

"I don't understand why I was so willing to take you with us," Hal said softly, shaking his head as he looked at me again. "I also don't understand why it feels as if I know you..."

"Something tells me you'll figure it out eventually," I told him, my tone even.

Hal turned to regard Jamie, who kept his eyes downcast in total subservience. "You will henceforth be known as Alexander MacKenzie," he declared, "as a favor to my brother."

My eyes widened at a direct reference to John. "John?" I whispered.

Hal's eyes snapped onto mine. "Yes," he said, his tone clipped. "Have you met him?"

I shook my head, flushing pink, as I, too, averted my eyes from his. "No," I answered, although my voice shook.

"Ah, Lord William, Lady Louisa," Hal said warmly, brushing past me, as he caught sight of the Master and Mistress of Helwater.

"Your Grace," Lord William responded, bowing to Hal respectfully.

"I thought you mentioned that it was one prisoner, Your Grace," Lady Louisa said softly, as she curtsied to him.

"Ah, well, this is Mistress Hathaway," Hal said quickly. "She is a friend of the prisoner, Master Alexander MacKenzie, and wanted to see him brought here."

Lady Louisa nodded her head. "Of course," she responded, turning towards me. "How are you, Mistress Hathaway?"

I curtsied to Lady Dunsany. "Very well, I thank you, my lady," I responded.

Lady Louisa seemed to perk up considerably at that. "Ah, a fine English lady. You can tell how well-bred she is, William, due to her perfect curtsy and voice." She took me by the arm and lifted me, her eyes meeting mine for the first time. "And so lovely," she praised, a genuine smile crossing her features.

I did my best to return Lady Louisa's smile. "That is most kind of you, my lady," I said, doing my best to remain polite.

"Your brother is here as well, Your Grace," Lord William was saying to Hal. "He is just in the parlor with Isobel and Geneva. Given that we lost Gordon so recently, well, he has offered to speak to them about grief and loss."

"He has become quite the surrogate brother to them, Your Grace," Lady Louisa said, still retaining her grip upon my hand, before she turned to look at me. "Oh, I cannot allow you to leave without meeting my daughters. Come, Mistress Hathaway," she said, and pulled me after her into the estate, while Hal and Lord William saw to Jamie, pointing him in the direction of the stables, while I remembered that he worked with horses during his time there. "Where do you hail from, my dear?" Lady Louisa was asking.

"I was born in London, my lady, but was educated in Bristol," I told her with a smile.

"Oh, at Red Maids'," Lady Louisa said, seemingly impressed with me, and stopped as a young woman came forward and curtsied to us. "Hannah, take Mistress Hathaway's belongings to the green guest chamber," she ordered.

I turned towards Lady Louisa. "Oh, my lady, I couldn't possibly take advantage of your hospitality," I said quickly.

Lady Louisa patted my arm. "Nonsense, dear. You must stay the night, at least."

I gave her a soft smile, knowing entirely well that Castlerigg wasn't too terribly far from there, and I could easily get there the following day, whereupon I would get a carriage to either Lallybroch or to Argus House, depending upon the weather and, hopefully, returned to my proper time of 1781. "Very well. Thank you, my lady."

Lady Louisa motioned for me to hand over my bag to Hannah, who curtsied to us both, before she left us. "Where will you need to go tomorrow, then, dear?"

"Keswick, if it isn't too much trouble," I said softly. "I am a widow, you see, and I am going to stay with my brother and his family."

Lady Louisa looked saddened by my proclamation. "Oh, my dear," she said softly. "I am terribly sorry about the loss of your husband. Lord Dunsany and I lost our dear Gordon eleven years ago, and I realize it is difficult." She patted my arm. "We will, of course, see you to Keswick, my dear, never fear."

I nodded my head at her. "Thank you, my lady."

"So," Lady Lousia said, beginning to walk again, "you can read and sew, then, I take it, Mistress Hathaway?"

I flashed her a guilty smile as we rounded a bend and proceeded up a staircase. "I had no patience for sewing, really. One of the instructors took pity on me, and taught me English, French, Latin, Scots-Gaelic, Ancient Greek, Italian, and German, whereupon he hired additional tutors to instruct me in history, geography, botany, mathematics, and astronomy," I told her, omitting the Polish, for it wouldn't be seen nearly as becoming.

Lady Louisa stopped walking once we had reached the topmost stair. "That sounds like an education fit for a princess," she said, very shocked at my admission. "You must have impressed your tutors."

I gave her an awkward smile. "I can only hope so, my lady."

"But, you are religious, are you not?" she asked, continuing down the corridor.

I nodded at her, hurrying slightly to catch up. "I am. I am Anglican, my lady."

She looked pleased at the notion. "As are we all, my dear, as are we all." She ventured towards an open door, where we could heard three different voices speaking to one another. "John, girls," said Lady Louisa, breezing into the room, "we have a guest for the evening. This is Mistress Hathaway."

The younger of the two girls got to her feet, and I had to bite my tongue, as I soon realized that this was Isobel, who would become John's first wife. She smiled at me, her pale blue eyes kind, as she curtsied to me, and I did so her. "Good day, Mistress Hathaway."

Lady Lousia smiled proudly at her younger daughter. "This is my youngest, Mistress Hathaway, Lady Isobel."

"Good day, Lady Isobel," I responded, not needing an introduction, but knowing that it would be better if I took one.

"And this is my eldest, Lady Geneva," Lady Louisa continued.

Lady Geneva got to her feet, and I did my best to swallow the bitter taste in my mouth as I made eye contact with Jamie's rapist, as well as my stepson's mother, for the first time. She was lovely, and she knew it, although her eyes were cold as she curtsied to me, not at all respectfully, and gave me a rather smug smile. "Mistress Hathaway."

I curtsied more deeply, as, in this moment, she outranked me. "Lady Geneva."

"And this is Lord John Grey, a very close friend of our family, as well as the younger brother of His Grace the Earl of Melton, who escorted you here," Lady Louisa said.

I turned my gaze onto my husband for the first time, and my heart ached at how young and handsome he looked. I curtsied to him, doing my best not to gasp as he took ahold of my hand and eased me upwards, staring into my eyes as Hal had done, almost as if he was curious about something he couldn't quite put his finger on. I, however, remained silent, due to the notion that he had not yet spoken, and he outranked me, for he was not yet my husband, as well as a complete stranger to me.

"Mistress Hathaway," he breathed.

I felt myself trembling in his grip, and he did not release me. "Lord John," I whispered back, unknowing how I was supposed to allow him to let me go, now that he, for the first time, officially had me in his sights.

He lowered his eyes to the hand he had taken, something flashing within them at the ring that I had always worn, from the moment he had presented it to me, twenty-two years in the future for us both. "This... This is lovely," he said quietly.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, doing my best not to permit myself to squeak, for I remembered that John had later told me that it was modeled after his own mother's engagement ring from their father, Gerard, and was nearly identical, though the stone within it was a sapphire, not an emerald, but, in this light, my ring appeared to hold a sapphire, which was probably why John appeared perturbed. "Thank you," I answered, "my lord. It was a gift from my late husband."

John looked up at me, searching my gaze for several uninterrupted moments, before he replied at last, "Your husband had good taste. I am very sorry for your loss."

I gave him a soft smile in return, which directly caused John to looked thunderstruck. "Thank you, but I believe I shall see him again, one day," I answered, forgetting, for the moment, that Lady Louisa and her daughters stood around us, as my husband and I made a perfect tableau, seemingly frozen in time.