“I have lived through a fucking world war,” I said, my voice low and venomous. “I have lost a child. I have lost two husbands. I have starved with an army, been beaten and wounded, been patronized, betrayed, imprisoned, and attacked. And I have fucking survived!”
I was back to the place where it had all begun. So much had happened. So much had changed. Last time I was here I was Claire Randall, then Claire Beauchamp, then Claire Fraser. The question was, who did I want to be?
It wasn’t Frank I reached for, deep in the night, waking out of sleep. It wasn’t his smooth, lithe body that walked my dreams and roused me, so that I came awake moist and gasping, my heart pounding from the half-remembered touch. But I would never touch that man again. ~ Voyager
I believe that you have secrets, Claire. Now, maybe they’re the kind of secrets that every woman has, which pose no threat to me, to Leoch, or to clan Mackenzie. But until I know for sure, you will remain here, as my guest. You mean as your prisoner, don’t you? Only if you try to leave.