Outlander: The Standing Stones

Yuletide

Autumn was fading into winter, and I began to wish I was back home. It was grey, wet, bleak, something out of "Wuthering Heights". I expected any moment to see Cathy's ghost peering into my window, looking for her lost Heathcliff.

Fires were lit in every fireplace in an attempt to warm the interior of Chateau La Mere. Mrs. Simms even burned an excessive number of candles in an attempt to fight back the winter gloom. At night, the fire and the candles lent the chateau a coziness that was missing during the day. The minute the early evening sun began to set, the candles were lit and seemed to dispel the gloom that pervaded the chateau.

December heralded the arrival of Yuletide, and the chateau made ready to celebrate Christmas. The Campbells were no grim Presbyterians or Calvinists; but like their English allies, they were devout Anglicans and celebrated Christmas. Holly appeared from somewhere, and bouquets of yew berries were set about in vases. Banners were hung and ribbons twined around the staircase bannisters. It was nothing like Christmas at home, Christmas trees would not appear for a few centuries, but the efforts to cheer up the castle were not in vain. It began to take on an almost cheerful look, as if to spite the weather.

One morning I looked outside and saw that it had begun to snow. The Campbell lands were not as far north as the McKenzies, but they were far enough that the moon and sun seemed smaller than what I was used to. Georgie informed me that we would be getting snow, but a blizzard or severe storm was unlikely. It was pretty, though, pretty enough for a picture on a Christmas card.

Wedding preparations intermingled with Yuletide cheer. Supplies seemed to arrive on a daily basis. I didn't know what would be served for the Christmas feast, but a fat young ox was waiting to be slaughtered for the wedding dinner. Perhaps I should have felt guilty about my choice of my wedding date, but the chateau was so full of life, bustling with activity, and the general mood of the inhabitants seemed to be a joyful one. If only I could share it.

A week before my wedding I woke up feeling nauseous. I'd started to sit up, and became dizzy and sick to my stomach, then lay back down and closed my eyes until it passed. The next thing I remembered was Georgie shaking me awake, asking me if I was all right.

"I don't feel too good, I think I'll just sleep." I settled back onto the pillow, "Will you get me some water, please, I'm afraid I'll get sick if I try to stand up." I looked up at him to see him smiling, "What, why are you looking at me like that?"

He put his hand on my belly. "Now, are you going to tell me that you don't know what's wrong with you?" He was smiling so wide he was almost beaming, "Are you going to tell me that I know what's going on and you don't?"

Then, it hit me. The very thing I had been dreading, but was bringing Georgie so much joy.

"I'm pregnant," I said softly, trying to keep the dismay out of my voice.

"And to think you needed me to tell you, but you've never had a child, now have you?' He put his arms around me, held me tight. "I bet your maids know, you just haven't been paying attention."

"Well, I guess we're going to have our eight months' child." I smiled, trying not to betray how I felt. I didn't want a child, even if it was Georgie's child. I never wanted to be a mother. I had, up until now, the perfect life. No husband, no children, work that I loved. Now all of that was going away, all because of a twenty year old Scotsman whom I had fallen in love with, and oh yes, I was in love with him.

"I'll get you some tea and bannocks, that should settle your stomach." He pulled on his trousers and his shirt, then went over to the window and opened it. What he saw made him smile. "Come here, Irina, I have something to show you." He wrapped a quilt around me and led me to the window.