Character: Claire Fraser (Randall). Page 2

dinner?

Not surprising at all, he thought. How many all at once piled on the poor thing! What is it like - first, to discover that the man she loved and called her dad all her life is not really her father; secondly, to find out that her real father is a Scottish Highlander, who lived two hundred years ago; and thirdly, to realize that he sacrificed his own life to save his wife and child and died a terrible death. Yes, there is something to be confused about!

- Honor? And what is it?

rest. What Karl did for the Scots - was it inevitable? Or is his true destiny to be what he is now - a symbol, an icon? If not for him, could Scotland have sustained a two-hundred-year alliance with England, while still retaining its individuality?

"I think historians should irritate you some," Roger ventured to note. - And all the writers - they made him a hero. I mean, in Northern Scotland, you see images of the crown prince at every turn – whether it's a can of beer or a souvenir mug.
- No, not historians. Not them at all. Their greatest crime is that they allow themselves to express their opinions about events that they know only presumably, having in their hands only what history has deemed necessary to leave us. And only a few of them behind the smokescreen of false facts and papers see what really happened.

To a new thousand, to new cells again.

Unwinding the blood-stained handkerchief, I pressed my wounded hand against his arm. our fingers intertwined. The blood was warm and sticky – it hadn't curled between our palms yet.
"Blood from my blood," I whispered.
- ... and flesh from my flesh, he said quietly.
None of us dared to ubody the last words of the oath: "... until death separates us." The words spoken hung in pain between us. Jamie smiled bitterly.
"And even longer," he said firmly and pulled him back to him.

“Yes, I would,” he said, “but I didn’t carry your child.

“Yes, I would,” he said, “but I didn’t carry your child.

“I know,” he said quietly. And while you sleep, let me tell you about my love. Because when you wake up, I can't say anything - I'm afraid that all my words will seem empty and stupid to you. But when you fall asleep in my arms, your dreams will tell you that I am telling the truth. Sleep, my love.

“You are the wife of Red Jamie, and he loves you very much, my dear,” he said softly.

- That's the only chance! Dougal hissed back. - Give it to them in exchange for our freedom! They won't touch her if they think she's our captive, and then we'll bring her back if we stay alive!
I came out of my hiding place, walked over to Jamie and grabbed him by the sleeve.
- Do it! - Hurriedly said I. - Dugal is right, this is the only chance!
He looked at me helplessly, his face distorted with anger and horror, but something resembling a grin flashed in his eyes - he understood the irony of this situation.
"After all, I'm English," I remarked.
With a gentle smile, he patted me on the face.
- Yes, but you're my Englishwoman.

- Yes, but you are my Englishwoman.

- Yes, but you are my Englishwoman.