“I did say when we were wed that I would always see ye fed, no?” He pulled me closer, tucking my head into the curve of his shoulder.

“I gave ye three things that day,” he said softly. “My name, my family, and the protection of my body. You’ll have those things always, Sassenach—so long as we both shall live. No matter where we may be. I willna let ye go hungry or cold; I’ll let nothing harm ye, ever.”

Our lovemaking was always risk and promise -

for if he held my life in his hands when he lay with me,

I held his soul, and knew it.

“So long as my body lives, and yours—we are one flesh,” he whispered. His fingers touched me, hair and chin and neck and breast, and I breathed his breath and felt him solid under my hand.

Then I lay with my head on his shoulder, the strength of him supporting me, the words deep and soft in his chest.

“And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire—I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you.”

“I - I don’t say it often.  Perhaps it’s only that I wasn’t raised to say such things; I lived with my uncle, and he was affectionate, but not - well, I didn’t know how married people - “

He put his hand lightly over my mouth, a faint smile touching his lips, After a moment, he took it away.

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice.

“Look, what I mean to say is - if I don’t say it, how do you know I love you?”

He stood still, looking at me, then nodded in acknowledgement.

“I know because ye’re here, Sassenach,” he said quietly.

You are my courage, as I am your conscience,” he whispered. “You are my heart—and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?