Jamie’s mind, having scattered to a thousand corners of the bedroom, fumbled for the duration of twenty rapid heartbeats.
Then he came back to himself, just in time to watch Claire finally, finally let go.
His hips had stopped moving - as had hers - but electricity pulsed between them. He could almost see it - sparking from his chest, through their connection, into her body and straight to her pure, compassionate heart.
She gasped, struggling to breathe as her body convulsed around him. He sat up straight, shifting his hands from gripping her arse to seizing her bare shoulders, cradling her, cherishing her vulnerability as she released.
So much tension to release, now. The miracle that they had been restored to each other. The prince. The Comte. The Duke. The wine. The Hopital. Randall. Mary. Alex. Louise.
The bairn - tumbling against his stomach, where her belly pressed into his.
She whimpered against his shoulder, her mind still hazy with ecstasy. He took the shell of her ear between his teeth, lowered his left hand to where they became one flesh, and gently guided her over the edge yet again.
—–
“I’m glad to see you’re finding new ways to get your fingers strong again.”
It was later - much later. Claire sat against the headboard, Jamie’s plaid draped around her shoulders as he cradled her belly between his hands, face at eye level with her navel, kissing and whispering to the bairn.
She felt his smile against the sensitive, stretched skin. “Ah weel. My wife always finds good ways for me to practice.”
She sighed, so happy, running one hand along her belly as the other tangled in Jamie’s hair.
“She hasna stopped moving since we…erm. Lay together.”
“Her heart and nervous system are linked with mine - when my heart beats faster, so does hers. When I feel excited, so does she. When I get exercise, she feels she must as well.”
“But it doesna hurt ye, all the moving about?”
“No - just feels a bit odd. Like an itch on the inside, but I can’t scratch it.”
“Hmm.” He lay his cheek against her, thinking. “It calms me to know the bairn is so strong already. She’ll need to be, to live in Paris.” He paused. “What was that ye said? *Nervous* system? How is there a system inside ye to make ye feel nervous?”
Claire shifted to recline onto her side, letting the bed bear some of the weight of her stomach. Jamie eased up so they were face-to-face, his hand still resting on her belly.
She kissed the cleft in his chin. “Not that kind of nervous - it’s the system of nerves. It transmits feelings - pain, hot, cold, surprise - throughout your body.”
“Oh, aye?” Jamie’s free hand slid to cup the flesh between her legs, still swollen from earlier. “And this kind of feeling, too?”
He watched her lips part in a small gasp. “Yes - that too.”
But then he withdrew his hand and instead brought it to cup her cheek, eyes intent on hers.
“Did I tell ye that Murtagh asked if I believed ye were a witch?”
She blinked at the sudden turn in conversation, trying to ignore the surge of want that was now pooling deep within her.
“What?”
“Aye, a witch. When I told him about ye.”
“No - but I’m not surprised.” She paused, considering. “Jamie - I - at the Hopital yesterday, I spoke with Monsieur Forez. Have I told you about him?”
He drew one of her legs over his hip, gathering her as close as the bairn would allow.
“No - but I ken who he is. King Louis’ executioner. An odd way to spend his free time doctoring the sick when he’s known for his…artistry…in killing people.”
She pursed her lips. “He told me he is planning an execution for multiple people suspected of practicing…the dark arts. And those associated with them”
Jamie didn’t say anything - but she watched his mind work.
“If I’m La Dame Blanche, and I’m known to be acquainted with Master Raymond, and you’re known to have business dealings with St. Germain…”
“Ye’re afraid, then?” He pulled the plaid snugly across their shoulders, cocooning them. Sheltering them. “Ye’re afraid that someone will accuse ye again? That ye willna be safe?”
She nodded, suddenly terrified at the prospect of leaving their bed. “I want to keep being useful - at the Hopital, helping you figure out what to do about the Prince. I want to keep spending time with Master Raymond, and Mother Hildegard. But now - ”
“Hush.” Beneath the plaid he cupped one heavy breast, thumbnail skimming her nipple. She gasped in surprise - and he felt her toes curl against his shins.
“Hush,” he repeated. “Do you really think I will *ever* let anything happen to you?”
She licked her suddenly parched lips. “Jamie - I don’t - not when we’re together. You promised me that, at Leoch. But what about when we’re apart? It’s like I said before - bad things happen…”
His thumb continued its slow circle around her nipple, and his other reached between them to guide him inside her.
Bliss.
“Then I’ll no’ let ye out of my sight. I’ll always have ye with me. Or Fergus, or Murtagh. I trust them with my life - and you *are* my life, Claire. Only they will care for you as I would.”
She released a long breath. He held still within her, solid and reassuring. And as much as she just wanted him to move, she relished the stillness. They were linked on every possible level, now. One body. One soul. One heart.
“Stay with me this morning. I just need to feel you close - it’s been so empty here in the house without you - ”
“Shh. I’m here.”
One large hand rested on the bairn - the other on the back of her neck, drawing her close for a kiss.
In that room, under that plaid, in that moment - they were the only three people in the world.