“Prosit,” Hal echoed, and drank the rest of the brandy without stopping to breathe.
41
Awkward Sod
JOHN GREY TOOK UP his penknife—a small French thing cased in rosewood and extremely sharp—and cut a fresh quill with a sense of anticipation. In the course of his life to date, he reckoned that he’d written more than a hundred letters to Jamie Fraser, and had always experienced a slight frisson at the thought of impending connection—whatever the nature of that connection might be. It always happened, no matter whether the letters were written in friendship, in affection—or in anxious warning, in anger, or in longings that went up in flames and the smell of burning, leaving bitter ash behind.
This one, though, would be different.
August 13, A.D. 1779
To James Fraser, Fraser’s Ridge
Royal Colony of North Carolina
He envisioned Jamie in his chosen habitat amid the wilderness, his hands hard and smooth with calluses and his hair bound back with a leather lace, companion to Indians, wolves, and bears. And companioned also by his female accoutrements, to be sure …
From Lord John Grey, Oglethorpe Street, No. 12
Savannah, Royal Colony of Georgia
He wanted to begin with the salutation “My dear Jamie,” but he hadn’t yet earned back the right to do that. He would, though.
“In another thousand years or so …” he murmured, dipping the quill again. “Or … maybe sooner.”
Ought it to be “General Fraser”？
“Ha,” he muttered. No point in putting the man’s back up a priori …
Mr. Fraser,
I write to offer a Commission of Employment to your Daughter. I have often spoken of her Gifts as an Artist to Friends and Acquaintances, and recently one such Acquaintance—a Mr. Alfred Brumby, a Merchant of Savannah—admired several Sketches she had sent to me and inquired whether I might have the Goodness to perform the Office of Ambassador for him in obtaining your Consent for your Daughter to travel to Savannah in order to paint a Portrait of his new Wife.
Brumby is a wealthy Gentleman, and quite able to afford both a handsome Fee （if your Daughter should wish it, I will be most happy to negotiate the Price for her） and the Expenses of her Journey and her Lodgings whilst in Savannah.
He smiled a little to himself at the thought of Brianna Fraser MacKenzie—and Claire Fraser—and what either woman might say in answer to his offer of assistance in her affairs.
I can assure you that Mr. Brumby is a Gentleman and his Establishment beyond reproach （lest you fear that I propose to kidnap the young Woman for my own fell Purposes）。
“Which,” he murmured to himself, “is exactly what I do propose to do, you awkward sod …”
If he’d been at all circumspect about it, Fraser would have been immediately suspicious of his motives. But in a long career of soldiery and diplomacy, he’d seen just how often the bald-faced truth, spoken in all seriousness, might be taken for a jest. He continued, tongue firm in his cheek:
In all Seriousness, I guarantee her Safety, and that of any Friend or Family Member you may choose to send with her.
Might Jamie come himself? That would be deeply interesting … bloody dangerous, though …
In these unsettled times, you will of course have great Concern for the Well-being of Travelers—and it may perhaps strike you that inviting a young Woman of outspoken Republican Sentiments to take up temporary Residence in a City presently under the Control of His Majesty’s Army might be injudicious.
With a Sense of your probable Feelings regarding the Rebel Cause, I will spare you a full Enumeration of my Reasons, but I assure you—there is not the slightest Risk that Savannah will suffer Invasion or Conquest by the Americans, and Brianna will not be exposed to physical Harm.
He stopped to consider, twiddling the quill. Should he mention the French?
What could Fraser possibly know already, perched up there in his mountainous lair? Granted, the man wrote—and presumably received—letters, but given the dramatic circumstances of his resignation of his field general’s commission at Monmouth, John rather doubted that Jamie was exchanging daily notes with George Washington, Horatio Gates, or any other American commander privy to such intelligence.
But what if he did know that Admiral d’Estaing and his navy of frogs might possibly be hopping up onto the beaches of Charles Town or Savannah within a few weeks?
He’d played chess with Jamie Fraser for years and had considerable respect for the man’s abilities. Best sacrifice that particular pawn, then, to draw him away from the lurking knight …