#am dram would keep works like these in business however‚ and there would always be a home for short asides in the music halls and

[mariocki]

Play 19: Granny by Lucy Whitehead

First published: c. 1890

Quote: "Oscar! What does this mean? Why are you an old woman? Oh whatever are you doing?" (Maud)

Notes: one of hundreds of single-act plays, farces, and melodramas published by Abel Heywood & Son's in the late 19th and early 20th century, intended for amateur production or for entertainment in the home. There's precious little information available about the works or authors of these plays, but I found a single academic reference suggesting an 1890 publication for Granny. That fits with the style and the tone of this brief comedy, a predictable tale of young lovers and miscommunication, crossdressing, and potatoes. There isn't much here, though it is valuable as an artefact of its time and as a comparatively rare example of women's writing for the stage in this era (albeit not the professional stage). With its blustering, bellowing colonel and complaining, busybody 'country woman', this was almost certainly written with a middle class audience in mind.

Read: for the first time.

#100plays #granny #lucy whitehead #1890 #victorian theatre #amateur dramatics #abel heywood and son's #i own a couple of the Heywood pamphlets (they're not really long enough to be called books) #and they're all fairly similar; silly little vignettes that may clumsily attempt to teach a moral lesson (Heywood snr had been a radical #and later a liberal with largely failed political ambitions‚ who turned instead to publishing) but are generally more concerned with #providing a brief farce that can end in (presumed) bouts of laughter. 1890 was a real Moment in theatre history as the well made play #began to lose favour to the first signs of true modern theatre; the era of Ibsen and Shaw was approaching and soon theatre #audiences would demand a lot more from their shows than a little silliness and perhaps a song. #am dram would keep works like these in business however‚ and there would always be a home for short asides in the music halls and #vaudeville. and it's not like vaudeville was going anywhere... aheh...hrm

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 3 “Nooks & Books” 

a/n: thank you everyone for the response on this fic! I’m posting Ch. 3 today (obviously) and then Ch. 4 on Wednesday as normal so you won’t have to wait too long ;)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

January 21, 2019

His lips tasted like whisky and his stubble scratched against her smooth cheeks. Claire’s hand drifted to his face, settling with her fingers just grazing his ear. As their lips molded together, a light snow had begun to fall, dropping onto their warm skin.

“Yer shiverin’ again, Sassenach.” Jamie’s hands were on her waist, clutching at the plaid and he pulled it back up around her shoulders.

“I am,” Claire’s teeth chattered together and she let out a soft laugh. They were still standing close together, bodies formed to the curves and hard lines of stomachs and limbs.

“Let’s get ye out of the cold then, aye?” Jamie smiled and took a step back, immediately bringing a chill to Claire’s body without his close touch.

He offered her his hand and she hesitated a beat before taking it, fingers touching rough calluses.

“Do ye want to go back to yer friends?” He asked as they began to walk back in the direction of the estate.

“Not really, no,” Claire laughed, brushing a few loose curls behind her ear. The last thing she wanted to do was be around a bunch of people, especially after the blissful moment she had just shared with Jamie.

“Well,” Jamie inhaled sharply, squeezing her hand. “As I said, I ken the owner fairly well and I dinna think he would mind if I showed ye around the inside of the estate.”

“Ah, the grand tour,” Claire pulled the plaid around her with her free hand and looked up at Jamie. “Do you often give tours of the place?”

He chuckled softly, “Only to verra special guests, Sassenach.”

“Well I’m honored,” she dipped her head slightly, trying to hold back a smile. Claire wouldn’t realize it until later, but she hadn’t thought of Frank once since she met Jamie.

As they made their way back inside, the party was still in full swing with people scattered around the room, drinks in hand. Any other time, Claire would have been right there in the thick of it, joking along with Geillis and enjoying the live music. But now she was thankful for Jamie who pulled her quickly up the stairs and out of view of the crowd.

“This place is like a fairytale,” Claire said as they walked past paintings of children and pictures of family memories. She could tell this was a home well lived in, one she always pictured having.

“Tis, ye should see it at Christmas time, the lights and the big tree in the main room,“ he looked down at her with a wide grin on his face, his eyes lit up at some memory. “And in the summers, the land is beautiful with the garden out back flourishing.”

Claire had had a suspicion that Jamie wasn’t telling her exactly who he was. And he talked about Lallybroch as someone who was very familiar with the ins and outs of the home; she wondered why he was keeping the fact that this was his home from her.

“I’m sure it’s lovely in each season,” she smiled giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He lead them down the hallway, past closed doors and little nooks. Just as she was about to ask a question about a painting with a little red haired boy, she heard a woman’s voice come from around the corner. Jamie cursed under his breath and quickly pushed her into one of the little nooks where it was dark and their bodies had to be pressed closely together.

“Jamie, what—“

“Shh, Sassenach. I dinna want to be seen,” he said softly, gazing down at her. His blue eyes met her amber ones and she was suddenly thankful for the sturdy wall against her back to hold her up.

Claire was trying to figure out who he was hiding from when the voice that belonged to the woman spoke again.

“Have ye seen Jamie, Murtagh? He disappeared after his speech and I canna find him anywhere, the wee numptie.”

“I saw him step outside,” answered a man Claire assumed was this Murtagh. “I’m sure he’s fine, the lad just needs to clear his mind, ye ken how hard this all has been for him, Jenny.”  

“I ken, it’s no been easy for any of us.” The woman sighed and then both her voice and the man’s disappeared down the hallway and Claire heard footsteps on the stairs.

A few silent moments passed and Jamie’s breath had sped up, and Claire felt his fingers tapping against her side.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” Claire broke the silence. Jamie laughed and stepped out of the nook, reaching for her hand once again.

“It wasna very good I’m afraid, only simple.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were? That this,” she pointed around the house, “Is all yours?”

Jamie ran his hand back through his hair, making a few curls stand up adorably on his head. “I was outside to take a break from all… this,” he waved his hand around them just as she had. “Tonight is a proud moment for me, Sassenach. The launch of the business, but my father was supposed to be here wi’ us… this was his dream.”

“Oh, Jamie.” Claire slid her hand up to cup his cheek. She had only known him for an hour, but already felt more connected to him than anyone, especially Frank.

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning his face against her palm. “Enough wi’ the depressing pitiful story,” he chuckled. “Come wi’ me — please?”

“Of course,” Claire smiled and followed him down the hallway and into a room that was lined with shelves of books, lit with soft lamps, and a comfortable looking couch strewn with cozy blankets.

“This was my mother’s favorite room,” Jamie said as he shut the door behind him. “She spent most of her time in the garden, but she wasn’t cooking for me or my sister, ye could find her here wi’ a book in hand.”

“Your mother’s passed too?” Claire asked, hoping it wasn’t too sensitive of a subject.

His face shifted slightly, his eyes touched with sadness, “Aye, when I was just fourteen.”

“I lost both my parents when I was fourteen as well,” Claire surprised herself at offering this information up to this man. Only Geillis and Frank had known about her parents death, but she rarely talked about it, let alone would bring it up with a near stranger.

But he wasn’t a stranger — not anymore, at least not after that kiss.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. I ken —“ Jamie’s voice trembled slightly, “I ken.” He smiled warmly and Claire felt safe with him and with him knowing about a tragic detail of her life. She knew he understood; that he had felt that same pain of losing both parents so young.

“Where are my manners,” he smiled and walked over to a small bar cart in the corner. “Would ye like another dram?”

“I don’t see why not,” Claire accepted his offer and took a seat on the couch, sighing as she sank into it. “This room is so cozy, the only missing thing is a roaring fire.”

Jamie chuckled and handed her a glass of whisky, “Well give me a moment, lass and ye shall have yer fire.”

Watching with peaked interest, Claire sipped her drink slowly as Jamie poked around in the fireplace, lit a match and started to stoke the fire. Apparently there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Once the fire turned from a few flames to a great blaze, he sighed contentedly and came to sit next to her, their knees bumping slightly.

“This really is very good whisky,” Claire smiled, taking another drink.

“Thank ye,” Jamie smiled proudly. “Twas my father’s own recipe, I just followed his instructions.”

“I’m not even quite sure how many glasses I’ve had,” Claire could hold a drink as well as any scot, but her head felt a bit fuzzy. She wasn’t positive, however that the fuzziness had anything to do with the drink, but with the man sitting next to her.

Her body was turned slightly towards his with her leg open on the couch next to his. That same energy was there from the stables, the buzz that coursed through her veins whenever they touched.

“Yer no drivin’ are ye, Sassenach?”

Claire shook her head, “Oh no, that’ll be my friend Geillis. I should text her to let her know I’m alright and that I haven’t been kidnapped!”

“How do ye ken I’m no goin’ to kidnap ye?” Jamie asked, raising one brow in question.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Geillis to tell her of her whereabouts, but left out the small detail of Jamie.

“I don’t think a kidnapper would take me to a library and start a fire, although you have supplied me with a lot of alcohol,” she laughed and with every passing moment she felt herself become lighter and the weight of the past twenty-four hours leave her tired shoulders.

“Indeed I have,” he grinned and Claire noticed his fingers tapping against the rim of his glass. She wondered what those fingers would feel like between her thighs and then she blinked rapidly to dispel that very intimate vision.

“What is it that ye do?” He asked a moment later.

“What is it that you think I do?” She smiled, playfully biting her lip.

Jamie finished his drink and took her empty one and sat them on the table nearby. He ran his hand back through his curls and leaned comfortably against the couch.

“Ye seem quite intelligent,” he mused and his eyes raced over her face. She felt a blush creep up her neck from the intensity of his gaze. “Perhaps yer a professor at some university?”

Ouch. If only he knew she had been dating a professor not too long ago.

“But ye also dinna seem like ye would love to be up in front of a bunch of students… am I correct?”

She nodded, grinning to herself, “You are correct. I love working with people, but public speaking is not my area.”

“Loves working wi’ people,” he said out loud and squinted his eyes at her.

Claire was rather enjoying this guessing game and wondered how long it would take for him to figure out.

“No a teacher — probably no someone who sits in a cubicle all day either,” he said and Claire shook her head.

“Can ye give me a hint at least, Sassenach? There are many jobs to choose from,” he laughed.

“I work with my hands,” she said and then snorted at the innuendo.

“Hand is it? What are ye… a doctor?”

“That was rather quick!” Claire clapped her hands at his speedy guess.

“Och, well ye love workin’ wi’ people but no big crowds, yer good wi’ yer hands and ye have a sweet temperament. A doctor seemed like a wise choice,” he grinned and dipped his head a bit.

Claire’s stomach fluttered as he made these observations about her. In such a short time, he had learned all of this information about her and seemed interested for more. Perhaps it was because her and Frank had been together for more than four years, but as time went on, he stopped asking her questions about herself — assuming he knew all the answers.

There was a beat of silence, and she felt herself being sucked into his gaze once again. She desperately wanted to kiss him again, but wasn’t sure if it was the smartest thing to do. As he leaned forward, she abruptly rose from the couch and walked over to one of the shelves of books.

“Do you have a favorite?”

She thought she heard him curse in another language, but wasn’t positive.

“Aye,” he said and came to stand beside her. He was tall, but he still had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach a book on the highest shelf. In his hands was a well loved copy of The Lord of the Rings.

“Lord of the Rings? I wouldn’t have pegged you for fantasy,” she said touching the front cover.

Jamie held the book in his hands as if it was very precious to him. “I read it around the time my mother passed, and I suppose it was a way for me to forget my own life and pretend I was a hobbit going on my own adventure.”

“I’ve only ever seen the first movie,” Claire admitted. “It was good… just a bit long,” she laughed.

Jamie grinned and placed the book down on the shelf. “Aye, tis long and the third one is even longer. If ye get a chance, ye should read them someday — if ye want.”

His fingers rested on the book and Claire looked up at him, her heart beginning to race. Inch by inch, she moved her hand and the tips of her fingers touched his just barely.

“I will,” she said softly and stood still, scared for the moment to end. Claire knew she was far from ready to push this any further, but Geillis had told her to have a little fun — forget the past.

“I would verra much like to kiss ye,” Jamie said and slid one hand around her waist. “May I?”

She responded by closing the distance and pressing her lips against his. This time the kiss wasn’t gentle, but a there was a fierce need to be as close to each other as possible. Claire tugged on the front of his shirt, bringing him down to her level, deepening the kiss.

His breath was hot on her face as he pulled back, staring into her eyes. A silent agreement was formed and he moved both his hands to her hips, digging his fingers into the flesh where her lifted sweater left skin exposed.

Don’t think, Beauchamp.

Claire pushed aside all rational thought and allowed herself to give in to the pleasure of her body. He had her pinned against the bookshelf, and she felt every spine of each book press against her.

“Christ,” Jamie sighed when Claire’s hand trailed slowly down his chest and gripped onto his belt. “We dinna have to do this, if it’s too—“

“Shhh,” she placed her finger over his lips and leaned in, kissing the skin exposed from his open collared shirt. “I want to.” I want you, she thought.

Jamie made a slight whimpering sound in his throat as Claire unbuckled his belt and pulled it from around his waist, dropping it onto the floor with a thud.

Chapter 4: “The Library” 

#the oath #outlander fanfic #ch 3 #nooks and books #jamie x claire #mclairefras #jamie fraser #claire fraser #claire beauchamp