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Outlander Novel Chapters
List of most recent chapters published for the Outlander novel. A total of 245 chapters have been translated and the release date of the last chapter is Apr 02, 2024
Latest Release: Chapter 1 : PART ONE
Inverness, 1945
1
A NEW BEGINNING
It wasn’t a very likely place for disappearan
PART ONE
Inverness, 1945
1
A NEW BEGINNING
It wasn’t a very likely place for disappearances, at least at first glance. Mrs. Baird’s was like a thousand other Highland bed-and-breakfast establishments in 1945; clean and quiet, with fading floral wallpaper,
- 206 His eyes were closed, and his skin was the color of old ivory. His head was turned slightly away from me, so that the cords of his neck stood out, but I couldn’t see any pulse in his throat. He was still warm, or at least the bedclothes were still warm. I
- 207 “Thank you,” I said faintly. “I’ll . . . ah . . . do something with it. Thank you.” Keziah beamed and bowed his way out, leaving me in personal custody of a sack containing what appeared to be a small but highly annoyed rattlesnake. I looked round frantic
- 208 “Evan Lindsay’s pigs,” Mr. Bug explained, in a rare burst of loquacity. Both Bugs beamed at me, begrimed with their efforts. “Thank you,” I said, feeling choked, and not only from the smell. I blinked, eyes watering slightly from the miasma of the corn li
- 209 He dressed slowly, his mind still pleasantly torpid. As he bent to dredge his stockings out from under the bed, though, something in the tumbled bedclothes caught his eye, just under the edge of the pillow. He reached out slowly and picked it up. The “aul
- 210 “Mr. Fraser is ill? I am sorry to hear it.” The unfamiliar soft voice came from behind, startling him, and he turned to find Malva Christie looking up at him in question. He hadn’t taken much notice of her, but was now struck by the beauty of her eyes—an
- 211 Jamie had buried the head, with due respect and a brief prayer, on a hill near the house—the first inhabitant of the small, sun-filled clearing intended as the future cemetery of Fraser’s Ridge. At Claire’s insistence, he had marked the small grave with a
- 212 Take a few staunch Calvinists, convinced that if they didn’t tuck their blankets tight, the Pope would nip down the chimney and bite their toes, and bang them up in a prison cheek-by-jowl with men who prayed out loud to the Virgin Mary . . . aye, he could
- 213 It was a soft spring night, the air still crisp, but smelling of fresh green things from the sprouting moor and the salt scent of the distant sea; a night to make a man yearn to run free upon the earth and feel the blood humming dark in his veins. Tired o
- 214 “We didna mind so much,” Jamie said. His eyes were open, but fixed on whatever he was seeing in the summer dim of memory. “It was better to be outside than in. And yet, by the evening, we would be so droukit wi’ fatigue that we could barely set one foot b
- 215 I smiled at that; however crude his methods, Daniel Rawlings was a good doctor. I wondered once again what had happened to him, and whether I should ever get the chance to meet him. I had the rather sad feeling that I should not; I couldn’t imagine a doct
- 216 For a time, I had hoped that Jenny’s letter had simply been mis-sent, misplaced, lost somewhere in transit. But it had been too long, and I had stopped hoping. Jamie hadn’t. “I thought perhaps I should send her this.” He shuffled through the stack of pape
- 217 To my surprise, Jamie laughed. “I shouldna think so, Sa.s.senach. It’s a Freemason’s compa.s.s.” “It is?” I blinked at it, then glanced at Jamie. “Was Cameron a Mason?” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. Jamie never spoke of his own a.s.sociati
- 218 “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I apologized to Roger. “I just thought . . .” I reached into the cupboard, withdrew three small earthenware pots, and uncorked them. “Not a problem,” he a.s.sured me. He watched with fascination as I checked each slide to be s
- 219 I took a deep breath, and picked up the pencil from the spot where Roger had laid it down. I drew slowly as I talked, ill.u.s.trating the possibilities. “But”—I tapped the pencil on the paper—“if Jemmy were to show as type A or type AB—then his father was
- 220 “What?” she said, in an edgy tone. “What do you mean, they’re born potty?” She had one hand on Jemmy’s shoulder, balancing him, while the other cupped his round little belly, an index finger disappearing into the shadows below to direct his aim. “Potty,”
- 221 That made her laugh again, a little wryly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know then, and I still don’t know.” “What d’ye mean by that?” “Well, when you hear things about somebody before you meet them, of course the real person isn’t just like what yo
- 222 “There were children crying, but not me. I wasn’t really afraid at all.” He hadn’t been afraid, because Mum was holding his hand. If she was there, nothing bad could happen. “There was a big thump nearby. I could see the lights shake. Then there was a noi
- 223 Here the text broke off, as Jenny had apparently been called away upon some domestic errand. It resumed, freshly dated, on the next page. September 18, 1771 I dream of young Ian now and then. . . . “What?” I exclaimed. “To h.e.l.l with Young Ian—who was w
- 224 “Laid sideways, the babe was, and the size of a six-month shoat . . .” “Ha, Germain had a head like a cannonball, the midwife said, and he was facing backward, the wee rattan—” “Jemmy had a huge head, but it was his shoulders that were the problem. . . .”
- 225 No. He was. He’d been half-asleep—or wholly so—and he’d b.l.o.o.d.y thought I was b.l.o.o.d.y Laoghaire! Nothing else could account for the way he had been touching me, with a sense of painful impatience tinged with anger; he had never touched me like tha
- 226 “Well, there you have me,” I admitted. “The principle holds, though; you haven’t any idea what may happen.” “That’s true,” he agreed. “But whatever does happen, I shall be ready for it.” He patted the dirk that lay on the corner of his desk, and went back
- 227 “Och, well, as to that . . .” Duff looked up at him speculatively, taking in the details of his clothing and appearance, and obviously wondering exactly how much the answer to that question might be worth. His partner below was growing increasingly restiv
- 229 Jamie turned back toward the sea, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked toward the sinking sun. “A monster,” he said softly. “Something less than a man—or more.” Roger opened his mouth to reply, but found he could not. For it was a monster that shad
- 230 “Mmphm. What if he doesna come alone?” Jamie shrugged, eyes fixed on the flint of the pistol in his hand. He wiggled it to be sure it was firmly seated, then set the gun down. “Then he does not. If there are men with him, we must separate him from them. I
- 231 None of them appeared to be at all alarmed. The man looked surprised, the woman affronted. The girl laughed heartily, pointing at Jamie, then at Roger. “I begin to feel rather foolish,” Jamie said to Roger. Removing the pistol, he stepped back warily. “We
- 232 He had hoped they would simply accept his story and depart—and they might still do that, once they satisfied themselves that there really was no whisky hidden anywhere near the landing. Another possibility had occurred to him, though; one that was making
- 233 As though the thought had drawn attention to him, he heard the slosh and swish of someone walking slowly through the marsh nearby. Searching. He froze, hoping the rain would cover the sound of his breath, loud and rasping in his ears. Closer. d.a.m.n, the
- 235 “Come back,” I’d said. He’d smiled at me, smoothing a curl behind my ear. “Ye ken what I said at Alamance? Well, it’s no today, either, Sa.s.senach. We’ll both be back.” MRS. CRAWFORD’S a.s.sEMBLY, held the next evening, boasted the same performers, for t
- 236 I took another step backward as I said this, and he took a step toward me at the same time. A flicker of panic must have crossed my face, for he looked amused, and took another step. “Oh, I doubt that, Mrs. Fraser dear. For see, the man’s dead by now.” I
- 237 “Well, now,” Bonnet said slowly. I could see his eyes trace the distance between him and Marsali—fifteen feet or more, too much to reach her with a dive. He put one foot on the ground, beginning to rise. He could reach her in three strides. “Don’t let him
- 238 By the time we had reached it, I knew something was wrong. There was a sinister air of stillness about the house; no sound of scurrying servants, no music from the parlor, no scents of supper being fetched in from the cookhouse. Most peculiar of all, Ulys
- 239 “Haunt the place?” “Aye, of course. A murder victim, done to death here, and hidden, unavenged?” “You mean . . . really haunt the place?” I asked, carefully, “or do you only mean the slaves would think so?” He shrugged, twitching his shoulders uneasily. “
- 240 It wasn’t nailed; the lid was heavy, but s.h.i.+fted at once. “Oh,” Jamie said softly, looking down. Gold will never tarnish, no matter how damp or dank its surroundings. It will lie at the bottom of the sea for centuries, to emerge one day in some random
- 241 I glanced at the coffin, sitting on its trestles under the rain-smeared window. The Lindsays’ cabin was very small, not suited for a funeral in the pouring rain, where a large number of mourners were expected. The coffin was open, awaiting the evening wak
- 242 “I know that.” To my surprise, a single tear slid down my cheek and dropped on the page, puckering the paper. I blinked hard, struggling for control. I didn’t want to distress Brianna. She wasn’t distressed. Her hands left my shoulders, and I heard the sc
- 243 He chuckled softly. “That’s true. He stinks worse than you do.” “I do not stink!” I said indignantly. “Mmphm.” He took my hand and lifted it to his nose, sniffing delicately. “Onions,” he said, “and garlic. Something hot . . . peppercorns. Aye, and clove.
- 244 “Come!” “No, I said ye must . . .” Roger began. “COME!” “Now, look, lad—” both men began together, then stopped, looked at each other, and laughed. “Where’s Mummy, then?” Roger said, trying another tack. “Mummy will be worried about you, aye?” The small r
- 245 He couldn’t duck aside and let it go past; Jem was still close behind him. He kicked it in the jaw with all his strength, then flung himself on it, grasping for a hold round its neck. His fingers slipped and slid, unable to get a firm grip on the wiry hai
- 246 “Has Ian brought friends? Or—his family, perhaps?” He had said his wife was expecting, and that was nearly two years back. The child—if all had gone well—must be nearly old enough to walk. Jamie’s smile dimmed a little at that. “No,” he said. “He’s alone.
- 247 “Look,” he said softly, turning the book toward me and pointing to one line. Written in Latin like the others, but there were unfamiliar words mixed into the text—long, strange-looking words. “Mohawk?” Jamie said. He looked up, into Ian’s face. “That is a
- 248 Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d. . . . Where are they? IT WAS AFTERNOON of the next day before we managed to collect Brianna, Roger, and Ian and retire privately to Jamie’s study without attracting unwanted attention. The night before, the haze of fatigue, following o
- 249 I saw gooseb.u.mps rise suddenly on Brianna’s arms, and caught the look she sent me—one of sudden understanding. She had abruptly imagined just how it might be, to arrive suddenly out of one’s own time . . . alone. I gave her a small smile, and put my han
- 250 “Let Mama see.” With a little difficulty, Brianna succeeded in getting her fingers onto the rock, though Jemmy wouldn’t surrender it. “It’s warm,” she said, looking up. “Like the piece of opal—but not way hot. If it gets way hot, you drop it fast, OK?” sh
- 251 “Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques. . . .” Roger looked up at Bree, and something seemed to pa.s.s through the air between them. He reached down and took hold of Jem’s other hand, momentarily interrupting his song. “So, a bhalaich, can ye do it, then?” “FRÈRE
- 252 He opened the book gently, to keep the pages from falling out. Greek lettering looked to me like the conniptions of an ink-soaked worm, but he found the bit he was looking for with no difficulty. “The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision