When the Heart Calls

Chapter Two

Je Suis Prest

October 1764

On the road I fell asleep in the stranger's arms and when I woke I found myself in a warm bed in a room with walls painted blue and paintings of things and people I didn't recognize. The room however, I knew, it was the guest room I'd stayed in with my parents. The furniture was different but I recognized the fireplace and even the view from the window. On a chair by the bed was a pile of clothes I assumed was for me. An olive-green robe, a long linen chemise and a corset among other things. Mom used to love dressing up for all the different faires we'd go to, so I wasn't completely unfamiliar with the various parts—it also meant I knew the corset was going to be a challenge. Once I had the shift on, I glared at the corset before doing my best to lace it, remembering how my mother showed me. The corset exaggerated my already exaggerated figure and the stays pressed into my sides but I could breathe at least. The olive-green robe or outer dress slipped on easily enough, but it didn't cover anywhere near what I was used to at the faires and festivals I'd been to with my mother. In all truth I loved how I looked, but I knew enough to be scared of men if I was in the time period I thought I was, and to know I'd have limitations and expectations based on my behavior.

For once I was thankful not to be the average almost sixteen-year-old, the only social media I liked was taking pictures of the herbs in my grandmother's garden and posting them on Instagram with my Grandmother's remedies. My parents and grandparents were history professors who specialized in the enlightenment period, so I knew some things, I hoped it be enough as I peered at myself in the mirror and pulled my hair over my shoulders. I heard muted clips of an argument. Curious I grabbed the tarot cards from the bag and slipped the velvet pouch into my skirt pocket before heading downstairs to the source of the heated voices.

"James Fraser, is that girl your bastard?" A voice carried all the way up to the hallway when I shut the door. There was more of a conversation and as I wound my way through the startlingly familiar home to the sitting room where the man from the side of the road was talking to a smaller pale woman with black hair and dark eyes. Both stared at me as I descended the stairs. I was about the woman's height, almost around five feet tall exactly.

"I don't mean to cause any trouble," I spoke as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Never any trouble to help kin," the short woman spoke smiling at me before shooting a glare at the man.

"I—" I started but she cut me off shaking her head.

"No, any one who looks at you and Jamie side by side can see clear as day. You look just like your Da. What's your name dear since your Da doesn't ken it?"

"Moira-Rose," I answered glancing up at the man called Jamie who did in all truth look like the very image of my father.

"Moira-Rose what a bonnie name for such a bonnie lass. Moira-Rose Fraser," the woman corrected and sneered at the tall red-haired man as she left the room. I couldn't help to smile a bit, seeing as that was in fact my name.

"I'm sorry," I swallowed, and he shook his head.

"No need for that." He pursed his lips for a moment taking a step closer. "I think I ken who you are... is your mother's name Claire?"

I shook my head no. "No, my mother's name is Cosette."

"Aye, I see..." he looked around. "Did ye' come through the stones?"

I kicked at the wooden floor and nodded. "Yes and I... I am a Fraser."

"O'course, anyone with eyes kens that. What... but what year are you from, lassie?"