𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 ✅

12 - The Lallybroch Christmas Eve Dinner Party of 1738

I had attended every Christmas Eve dinner at Lallybroch since I had been a bairn at the breast of my mother. I had always enjoyed them - even when Jamie had been away at Beannachd - but tonight I could not bring myself to put meaning behind the fake smile which was plastered on my face as soon as we were in sight of everybody, the three of us on the stairs, Ian accompanying both Jenny and I, the two of us clutching onto one of his arms each.

Ian went to stand with his father, who was talking to the laird of Lallybroch, Brian. John Murray, Ian's da, was a broad-shouldered hulk of a man who was left-handed - this I always remembered because it had been John who had insisted that Jamie should be taught to fight with his left hand as he would be stronger because of it. It had been John Murray who had put the first of many swords into James Fraser's hand, and it had been John Murray who had taught a seven-year-old Jamie his very first parry.

"Ah!" Brian exclaimed. He put his glass of what I assumed was whiskey onto the sideboard and held out his arms, "my girls!" Everybody turned and stared at us and I flushed a deep red. I hated people staring at me when I didn't feel my best, and I most definitely did not tonight. "Come!" Mr Fraser waved us down, "join us!"
Jenny and I descended the stairs, her two steps ahead of me as she was the oldest and a Fraser.

We reached Brian, and he dropped a kiss on Jenny's cheek and then mine. Everybody went back to their conversations and to their dancing; the music had not stopped when Brian had called out to us, but people had stopped moving in the middle of the room. The furniture which usually sat in front of the fire had been moved to the edges of the room, though the fire was lit as always. The large living room was decorated gorgeously - I had not yet seen it since I had not ventured out of my room since my own father's funeral.

Jenny and I struck up a conversation with each other, though we both stayed dutifully by Mr Fraser: as two young, unwed and unpromised girls, our duty was to stay by our guardian for the night, and dancing was only allowed with his approval.

We both accepted a glass of watered-down whiskey from one of the maids that were walking around the room with a tray balanced between her two hands, and we giggled as Ian tried desperately to interrupt the conversation between his father and Jenny's in order to ask if she would be allowed to dance with him.

Brian Fraser was purposely making it difficult to interject on the conversation, but all in jest.

"Pardon my interruption, my Lord," John, Ian, Jenny, Brian and myself all turned to see that Willie Faulkner, the tanner's lad and an admirer of mine was standing behind us, his head bowed respectfully.

"Speak, lad." Brian took another swill of his whiskey.

Willie raised his head, "thank ye, my Lord. I was wondering if I could beg the indulgence of Miss MacCraig for a dance?" He chanced a look at me.

I was frowning.

Brian, however, did not notice. He nodded, "take good care of her, lad, eh?"

I groaned inwardly and cast a glance at Jenny. She sighed, rolling her eyes covertly. Willie held out his hand to me and I reluctantly took it, not wanting to be rude and not wanting to anger Brian, though in the morning I intended to write to Jamie and ask him to ask his father to not put anything in place with Willie Faulkner until he could return and we could... redefine our relationship.

Willie whisked me into the crowd of dancers. The song that the musicians in the corner of the room were playing was very upbeat; I recognised it as a group number. There were maybe seven or eight couples on the floor - we lined up, the girls on one side and the men on the next, and we danced in time. I knew the dance well because it had been my mother's favourite. How I had loved to see her and my father take to the floor to dance to the music every Lallybroch Christmas.

I remembered one Christmas when Jamie, Jenny, Ian and I had taken to the floor alongside them. It had been Ian and Jenny dancing together, and Jamie and I. The way it always should be. I knew how Jenny felt about Ian, the same way that she knew how I felt about her brother.

Willie and me, along with the rest of the dancers, finished the dance and immediately went into another, though this was completed in a pair. Willie took my hands and whirled us around the others. With a start, I realised that he was actually a really good dancer. He hummed along to the music, entirely in tune.

We danced for about fifteen minutes before everybody began to make their way into the dining room. Apparently, dinner was ready. Willie let go of one of my hands but kept hold of the other one, leading me in the direction of the dining room along with everybody else. I saw Jenny and Ian walking closely beside each other and smiled privately to myself, happy that even if I couldn't be with the one that I loved, she was. I sat on one side of Brian Fraser, Jenny opposite with Ian beside her and Willie beside me.

We ate, and I was surprised to find that I actually enjoyed the conversation that I was having with Willie. He told me of his parents; a mother who, like mine, had died in childbirth, and a father who was utterly besotted with both Willie and his little sister, Morven, neither of whom were in attendance at the party. He told me of Morven, who he seemed to adore, and of how he was in the process of teaching her to swim. I smiled, feeling a pang in my heart because I was actually enjoying myself despite being separated from Jamie, unable to talk with Jenny across the table, instead speaking to somebody who I had spent months insisting that I didn't like... but Willie was nice, and he wasn't persistent - he never made a move towards me that he shouldn't have or would be deemed improper.

"So how's Jamie?"

"Jamie?" I squeaked, almost knocking over my second glass of watered whiskey. Brian shot me a glance, silently telling me to be more careful in the future.

"Aye," Willie paused, drinking from his own glass, though his whiskey was not watered; Willie was five years older than me - twenty, the same age as Jenny - and so was deemed old enough to drink the strong scotch. "He's yer friend, isn't he?"

"Aye." I swallowed, nodding slowly. "We're close."

"I ken." Willie paused, "or ye were when ye were younger -"
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, frowning as I turned back to him.

"Only that I dinna see him round this table." Willie looked at each guest in turn, holding up the dramatics.

"He's away -"
"Away?" My companion echoed, "still? I thought he woulda been back by now -"

"He was home, and then he was sent to Paris to university." I paused, suddenly growing very tired of Willie's company. I wondered if he had brought Jamie up in conversation only to find out how long he had to ask Brian for my hand in marriage.

I wondered if he even wanted to marry me.

"Verra fancy -"
"Aye, well some can afford to school their bairns, William." I turned to Brian, "would ye excuse me? I've come over in a hot flush suddenly."
Brian opened his mouth to reply, but Jenny interjected. "It must be tiring for ye, Eira, all of this in one evening." She gestured with one sweeping hand to the entire table, but she and I knew that she was truly referring to Willie, and that she was trying to give me a way out of the conversation with him.

I nodded, "aye, I think that's it. It's been a long night -"
"Ye havena eaten, Eira."
"I'm not hungry, Mr Fraser." Behind closed doors, I could call him Brian and he wouldn't care, but in public, I knew that I had to treat him with as much respect as any of his tenants did. I might have been his foster daughter, but I still had to keep pretences up.

Brian bit his lip but then bowed his head in permittance. "I'll have some food brought up to ye later."

I thanked him and then rose, not even wishing Willie Faulkner a goodnight.