“I chose my way when I wed ye, though I kent it not at the time. But I chose, and cannot now turn back, even if I would.''Would you?' I looked into his eyes as I asked, and read the answer there. He shook his head.'Would you? For you have chosen, as much as I.”

“I prayed all the way up that hill yesterday, he said softly. Not for you to stay; I didna think that would be right. I prayed I'd be strong enough to send ye away. He shook his head, still gazing up the hill, a faraway look in his eyes. I said 'Lord, if I've never had courage in my life before, let me have it now. Let me be brave enough not to fall on my knees and beg her to stay.' He pulled his eyes away from the cottage and smiled briefly at me. Hardest thing I ever did, Sassenach.”

“And I mean to hear ye groan like that again. And to moan and sob, even though you dinna wish to, for ye canna help it. I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and at last to cry out in my arms, and I shall know that I've served ye well.”

“I thought the force of my wanting must wake ye, surely. And then ye did come. . ." He stopped, looking at me with eyes gone soft and dark. "Christ, Claire, ye were so beautiful, there on the stair, wi' your hair down and the shadow of your body with the light behind ye…." He shook his head slowly. "I did think I should die, if I didna have ye," he said softly. "Just then.”

“Why?" I shrieked, hitting him again and again, and again, the sound of the blows thudding against his chest. "Why, why why!".Because I was afraid!" He got hold of my wrists and threw me backward so I fell across the bed. He stood over me, fists clenched, breathing hard.I am a coward, damn you! I couldna tell ye, for fear ye would leave me, and unmanly thing that I am, I thought I couldna bear that!"~~~~~~~~~You should have told me!"And if I had?, You'd have turned on your heel and gone without a word. And having seen ye again--I tell ye, I would ha' done far worse than lie to keep you!"Voyager”

“There are things that I canna tell you, at least not yet. And I'll ask nothing of ye that ye canna give me. But what I would ask of ye---when you do tell me something, let it be the truth. And I'll promise ye the same. We have nothing now between us, save---respect, perhaps. And I think that respect has maybe room for secrets, but not for lies. Do ye agree?”

“When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir--you said then that you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me, had it come to that!"He grasped my hands, fixing me with a steady blue gaze."Aye, I would," he said. "But I wasna carrying your child."The wind had frozen me; it was the cold that made me shake, I told myself. The cold that took my breath away."You can't tell," I said, at last. "It's much too soon to be sure."He snorted briefly, and a tiny flicker of amusement lit his eyes."And me a farmer, too! Sassenach, ye havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first took me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.""You bastard!" I said, outraged. "You counted! In the middle of a bloody war, you counted!""Didn't you?""No!" I hadn't; I had been much too afraid to acknowledge the possibility of the thing I had hoped and prayed for so long, come now so horribly too late."Besides," I went on, trying still to deny the possibility, "that doesn't mean anything. Starvation could cause that; it often does."He lifted one brow, and cupped a broad hand gently beneath my breast."Aye, you're thin enough; but scrawny as ye are, your breasts are full--and the nipples of them gone the color of Champagne grapes. You forget," he said, "I've seen ye so before. I have no doubt--and neither have you."I tried to fight down the waves of nausea--so easily attributable to fright and starvation--but I felt the small heaviness, suddenly burning in my womb. I bit my lip hard, but the sickness washed over me.Jamie let go of my hands, and stood before me, hands at his sides, stark in silhouette against the fading sky."Claire," he said quietly. "Tomorrow I will die. This child...is all that will be left of me--ever. I ask ye, Claire--I beg you--see it safe.”