“I don’t imagine it was much of a contest,” I murmured, helping him to peel off the dusty coat. “William Tryon’s not even Scots, let alone a Fraser.”
That got me a reluctant half-smile. “Stubborn as rocks,” was the succinct description of the Fraser clan I had been given years before—and nothing in the intervening time period had given me cause to think it inaccurate in any way.
“Aye, well.” He shrugged and stretched luxuriously, his vertebrae cracking from the long ride. “ Oh, Christ. I’m starved; is there food?” He relaxed and lifted his long nose, sniffing the air hopefully.
“Baked ham and sweet potato pie,” I told him, unnecessarily, since the honey-soaked fragrances of both were thick on the humid air. “So what did the Governor say, once you’d got him properly browbeaten?”
His teeth showed briefly at that description of his interview with Tryon, but I gathered from his faint air of satisfaction that it wasn’t totally incorrect. “Oh, a number of things. But to begin with, I insisted he recall to me the circumstances when Roger Mac was taken; who gave him up, and what was said. I mean to get to the bottom of it.” He pulled the thong from his hair and shook out the damp locks, dark with sweat.
Diana Gabaldon, The Fiery Cross (Chapter 73 – A Whiter Shade of Pale)
I’m tardy with this post, but I have an excuse.
I wanted to post this awesomely delicious recipe for Outlander Kitchen’s 3rd Anniversary on October 31 , but then I had an accident involving a brand-new, very sharp vegetable peeler, a butternut squash and my left pinky.
Let’s just say my pinky (especially the nail and tip) suffered the brunt of the damage. Read More
I was very hungry; I had had nothing to eat since a hasty breakfast of rough parritch and boiled mutton, made soon after dawn at a posthouse in Dundaff. I had one last sandwich remaining in my pocket , but had been reluctant to eat it in the coach, under the curious gaze of my fellow travelers.
I pulled it out and carefully unwrapped it. Peanut butter and jelly on white bread, it was considerably the worse for wear, with the purple stains of the jelly seeping through the limp bread, and the whole thing mashed into a flattened wodge. It was delicious.
Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 24 – A. Malcolm, Printer)
Soon, we’ll be as lost as Claire. Just one more episode before we enter that black hole of Outlander nothingness until early 2015, when the last half of the season will appear to pull us out of our post-holiday doldrums.
Well, it’s something to look forward too, right? Even if you are dreading this final hour before the break…
Can you believe we’ve made it? We’re actually here! After months and months of waiting (decades, really, for some), The Wedding is less than 4 days away.
It looks as though some of the finer points have yet to be taken care of in the negotiations, but the horse is happily munching away on his hay, and Jamie seems more poised to make a smart-ass remark than a engage in a shout fest, so I don’t think too many obstacles remain.
Except maybe a dress, a priest in a kirk, and a few days space from the MacKenzie boys while he and Claire become acquainted. But that’s just a guess…