With a sound of incoherent distress, I flung my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could.
“It’s all right,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s all right, Sassenach. A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.”
I knew this was a lie; I had seen enough of battle wounds and the deaths of warriors. All that was true was that it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose. The terror that had ridden with me from Sandringham’s estate rose now to high tide, choking, drowning me. My ears rang with my own pulsebeat, and my throat closed so tight that I felt I could not breathe.
Then all at once, the fear left me. I could not leave him, and I would not.
“Jamie,” I said, into the folds of his plaid. “I’m going back with you.”
He started back, staring down at me.
“The hell you are!” he said.
“I am.” I felt very calm, with no trace of doubt. “I can make a kilt of my arisaid; there are enough young boys with the army that I can pass for one. You’ve said yourself it will all be confusion. No one will notice.”
“No!” he said. “No, Claire!” His jaw was clenched, and he was glaring at me with a mixture of anger and horror.
“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either,” I said, firming my own jaw. “It will…be over quickly. You said so.” My chin was beginning to quiver, despite my determination. “Jamie—I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, and that’s all!”
He opened his mouth, speechless, then closed it, shaking his head. The light over the mountains was failing, painting the clouds with a dull red glow. At last he reached for me, drew me close and held me.
“D’ye think I don’t know?” he asked softly. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you—then I am asking you to tear out your heart and live without it.” His hand stroked my hair, the roughness of his knuckles catching in the blowing strands.
“But ye must do it, mo duinne. My brave lioness. Ye must.”
“Why?” I demanded, pulling back to look up at him. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir—you said then that you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me, had it come to that!”
He grasped my hands, fixing me with a steady blue gaze.
“Aye, I would,” he said. “But I wasna carrying your child.”
The wind had frozen me; it was the cold that made me shake, I told myself. The cold that took my breath away.
“You can’t tell,” I said, at last. “It’s much too soon to be sure.”
He snorted briefly, and a tiny flicker of amusement lit his eyes.
“And me a farmer, too! Sassenach, ye havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first took me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”
“You bastard!” I said, outraged. “You counted! In the middle of a bloody war, you counted!”
“Didn’t you?”
“No!” I hadn’t; I had been much too afraid to acknowledge the possibility of the thing I had hoped and prayed for so long, come now so horribly too late.
“Besides,” I went on, trying still to deny the possibility, “that doesn’t mean anything. Starvation could cause that; it often does.”
He lifted one brow, and cupped a broad hand gently beneath my breast.
“Aye, you’re thin enough; but scrawny as ye are, your breasts are full—and the nipples of them gone the color of Champagne grapes. You forget,” he said, “I’ve seen ye so before. I have no doubt—and neither have you.”
I tried to fight down the waves of nausea—so easily attributable to fright and starvation—but I felt the small heaviness, suddenly burning in my womb. I bit my lip hard, but the sickness washed over me.
Jamie let go of my hands, and stood before me, hands at his sides, stark in silhouette against the fading sky.
“Claire,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me—ever. I ask ye, Claire—I beg you—see it safe.”
I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.
At last I bent my head to him, the wind grieving in my ears.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes. I’ll go.”
It was nearly dark. He came behind me and held me, leaning back against him as he looked over my shoulder, out over the valley. The lights of watchfires had begun to spring up, small glowing dots in the far distance. We were silent for a long time, as the evening deepened. It was very quiet on the hill; I could hear nothing but Jamie’s even breathing, each breath a precious sound.