He is grateful for the comfort she offers, even if Isobel's loss is far in the past for him now. He offers her a soft smile, shifting his hand underneath hers to squeeze it back.
"William loved her very much," he agrees. "It took him some time to forgive me for my own role in his life after that, I think. Not that he blamed me for her death, but that my position caused him such upheaval."
He takes in a breath, letting it out slowly.
"And now -- he has taken up a commission and is a captain in the army," he adds. "Taken up the family business, I suppose you might say. I am proud of him. But there is not a day that goes by that I do not worry for him as well."
"I would be terrified," Claire admits freely. "Knowing Bree's not in her time is—" Pausing, she exhales after gathering her thoughts, gazing at something decorative on the wall as she speaks.
"I never wanted her to follow me. To have her with us and for Jamie to meet her is a gift, but I know how difficult that life is. She's never lived a day of hers without being able to flick a switch and turn on the lights. Food from all over the world in one grocery store has always been available her just down the street from our home. Sleeping outdoors was for fun and our family vacations, never out of necessity."
Claire doesn't mean to suggest Brianna couldn't handle it on her own, and so feels compelled to add: "She's tough, and she's strong, but so am I. And I know the things that have happened to me."
Draining her sherry, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand for a moment. "Just as you know all the things that can happen in war," she finishes after dropping her hand to her lap again.
John offers her a soft smile, understanding what she had meant, even if he hadn't necessarily understood all the references she had used in the process. Switch on the lights...?
"Yes, I do," he agrees, quietly.
He toys with his own glass of sherry between his fingers for a moment, before draining it and setting it aside. Sitting forward in his chair and lacing his fingers together before himself and fixing his gaze upon them for a breath before he speaks again.
"I cannot tell you that the world I live in is a kind place, for we both know it is not," he says. "But that does not mean that there is not a place for kindness within it. I have known it often, these past ten years or so of our acquaintance, from you and your daughter both." His smile softens. "Once you found it in yourself to forgive me, that is."
The first part of what he says is true enough, and a good reminder. There are kind people in the world; even on other worlds, as it turns out. Then he continues speaking, and Claire regards him curiously. She's close to wanting to have the conversation about who she is to him and why, but not this late at night, and not when she's had a run of bad sleep.
"Did it take me long to do that? Because if it did, that wasn't your fault, you know. It's..." Claire trails off, then tilts her head as she looks at John.
"I'm sure we've discussed what I was feeling in our time together?" It feels as if she's being cross-examined on her own thoughts, a feeling that's unsettling.
John lets out the breath of a laugh, feeling a bit strange to have to repeat some of the conversations they have already had himself, though of course he understands why they must. He nods in response to her question.
"We did," he says, softly. "Though it took us some time to do so, and I may have been deathly ill at the time. I am grateful to not have to revisit that particular part of the conversation this time around."
His smile saddens slightly. "I had thought you jealous. Of the time I spent with Jamie, while you were... Elsewhere. That you felt uncomfortable with my feelings for him. I think perhaps in some regards that my assessment had been true." He raises his eyes to meet hers. "But surely you know that he has not, nor will he ever want for me. He may have trusted me to raise his son, but it was for William's sake, not my own."
"That's right, measles, you said?" It would have been awful to go through, but it makes sense Claire stayed with him and that they learned so much about one another. There would have been plenty of time to talk, for them to begin to understand the other.
At his words, Claire reaches out to squeeze his arm gently. "I know, John. I don't know what I said then, but it was the amount of time. God, you had more time with him when I was gone, than I've spent with Jamie our entire marriage." This is incredibly raw now, being so freshly reunited and then torn apart again. Squeezing his arm again, her hand drops as she sighs quietly.
"It was a sort of jealousy. Just not the type you might have feared, and not rational in any sense considering where you two were for the majority of that time."
It wasn't as if they were gallivanting the countryside and having a grand time, for Christ's sake.
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"William loved her very much," he agrees. "It took him some time to forgive me for my own role in his life after that, I think. Not that he blamed me for her death, but that my position caused him such upheaval."
He takes in a breath, letting it out slowly.
"And now -- he has taken up a commission and is a captain in the army," he adds. "Taken up the family business, I suppose you might say. I am proud of him. But there is not a day that goes by that I do not worry for him as well."
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"I never wanted her to follow me. To have her with us and for Jamie to meet her is a gift, but I know how difficult that life is. She's never lived a day of hers without being able to flick a switch and turn on the lights. Food from all over the world in one grocery store has always been available her just down the street from our home. Sleeping outdoors was for fun and our family vacations, never out of necessity."
Claire doesn't mean to suggest Brianna couldn't handle it on her own, and so feels compelled to add: "She's tough, and she's strong, but so am I. And I know the things that have happened to me."
Draining her sherry, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand for a moment. "Just as you know all the things that can happen in war," she finishes after dropping her hand to her lap again.
no subject
"Yes, I do," he agrees, quietly.
He toys with his own glass of sherry between his fingers for a moment, before draining it and setting it aside. Sitting forward in his chair and lacing his fingers together before himself and fixing his gaze upon them for a breath before he speaks again.
"I cannot tell you that the world I live in is a kind place, for we both know it is not," he says. "But that does not mean that there is not a place for kindness within it. I have known it often, these past ten years or so of our acquaintance, from you and your daughter both." His smile softens. "Once you found it in yourself to forgive me, that is."
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"Did it take me long to do that? Because if it did, that wasn't your fault, you know. It's..." Claire trails off, then tilts her head as she looks at John.
"I'm sure we've discussed what I was feeling in our time together?" It feels as if she's being cross-examined on her own thoughts, a feeling that's unsettling.
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"We did," he says, softly. "Though it took us some time to do so, and I may have been deathly ill at the time. I am grateful to not have to revisit that particular part of the conversation this time around."
His smile saddens slightly. "I had thought you jealous. Of the time I spent with Jamie, while you were... Elsewhere. That you felt uncomfortable with my feelings for him. I think perhaps in some regards that my assessment had been true." He raises his eyes to meet hers. "But surely you know that he has not, nor will he ever want for me. He may have trusted me to raise his son, but it was for William's sake, not my own."
no subject
At his words, Claire reaches out to squeeze his arm gently. "I know, John. I don't know what I said then, but it was the amount of time. God, you had more time with him when I was gone, than I've spent with Jamie our entire marriage." This is incredibly raw now, being so freshly reunited and then torn apart again. Squeezing his arm again, her hand drops as she sighs quietly.
"It was a sort of jealousy. Just not the type you might have feared, and not rational in any sense considering where you two were for the majority of that time."
It wasn't as if they were gallivanting the countryside and having a grand time, for Christ's sake.