đ many regrets bye
this may be perhaps the hardest thing he has to write. he does it by the edge of the cave when the dawn breaks; it allows light to filter in through the trees, giving him enough to write by. he doesnât trust candlelight, doesnât trust that his shaking hands wonât it the candle and knock it over, setting his final words to his daughter aflame.
my dear faith, he writes, and then has to stop.Â
what is he doing? it had been so easy for him to tell jenny and ian what his plan was, that heâd decided to give himself up to the english in exchange for the reward money, and yet... the thought of telling his daughter makes his heart want to leap up into his throat, makes him want to run the miles to lallybroch, wake her from slumber, and wrap his arms around her tightly, never letting her go. his own flesh and blood... how could he do this to her?
he shakes his head vehemently, dipping the quill in the inkpot again and starting over.
my dear faith,
this is the hardest thing that i have ever had to do. at one point i thought that dealing with the grief of losing your mother would be the hardest, but i had had you with me to keep my heart whole. but this... this is something else entirely.
tomorrow i will be arrested by the english. i have instructed your aunt and uncle to tell them that their traitorous brother has come back, after hiding god-knows-where, and that theyâll turn him in for the reward money. and if all goes well, that money will be able to be used to feed lallybroch and the tenants for a while yet.
i can not even bear the thought of what you will think of me, that you would think me a coward for this, and yet... i know that i must do it. i know that i must put this family, these people, in front of myself, and while i know that you may hate me for this, it is something i must do.Â
i hope that you do not resent me for this, though i know you, and you will. please try not to let it last too long, faith, as i will think of you every day in a positive light and i would hope that you would soon think of me in the same. one day, when we see each other again, i would hope that our reunion will be positive and not spent with me trying to convince you to speak to me again.Â
because i do love you, more than anyone else in this life. you have been the person to keep me grounded all of these years, to keep me from losing myself. i did not know that it was possible to live with part of your heart outside of your body, in someone else, and yet... here you are. you are the person i am the most proud of, the person who i hope is the most proud of me.Â
and if, when we are reunited, it is when you are lowering my body into the ground in the kirkyard -- or perhaps there is no reunion at all... please remember that it is my blood runs through your veins. i am with you, always, no matter where i am -- here, in heaven... i am with you. always.
we will see each other again. i promise.
but that is tomorrow. today, it is just past dawn, and you will come and join me for breakfast, and then we will sit and read together, and then perhaps we will go fishing. and then your aunt will send up some lunch, we will eat, and read some more, and then maybe i will plait your hair (and this time, i think i will let you plait mine). we will catch something for dinner, roast it over a fire, and lay in the mouth of the cave and watch as the stars come out. and then i will take you back to lallybroch, kiss you goodnight, hold you for what may be the last time, and give you this letter.
above all, please remember that i love you, my daughter. my wee one. my red-haired lass.
my faith.
with all of my heart,da.
