Free Virgins: An Outlander Novella by Diana Gabaldon Page A

to hell if it was a mortal sin,” he said. “If it’s no but venial, I’d only have to spend a thousand years or so in purgatory. That wouldna be so bad.”
    “Of course it’s a mortal sin,” Jamie said, cross. “Anybody kens fornication’s a mortal sin, ye numpty.”
    “Aye, but…” Ian made a “wait a bit” gesture with one hand, deep in thought. “To be a
mortal
sin, though, ye’ve got the three things. Requirements, like.” He put up an index finger. “It’s got to be seriously wrong.” Middle finger. “Ye’ve got to
know
it’s seriously wrong.” Ring finger. “And ye’ve got to give full consent to it. That’s the way of it, aye?” He put his hand down and looked at Jamie, brows raised.
    “Aye, and which part of that did ye not do? The full consent? Did she rape ye?” He was chaffing, but Ian turned his face away in a manner that gave him a sudden doubt. “Ian?”
    “Noo…” his friend said, but it sounded doubtful, too. “It wasna like that—exactly. I meant more the seriously wrong part. I dinna think it was…” His voice trailed off.
    Jamie flung himself over, raised on one elbow.
    “Ian,” he said, steel in his voice. “What did ye
do
to the lass? If ye took her maidenheid, it’s seriously wrong. Especially with her betrothed. Oh—” A thought occurred to him, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Was she no a virgin? Maybe that’s different.” If the lass was an out-and-out wanton, perhaps…she probably
did
write poetry, come to think…
    Ian had now folded his arms on his knees and was resting his forehead on them, his voice muffled in the folds of his plaid. “…dinna ken…” emerged in a strangled croak.
    Jamie reached out and dug his fingers hard into Ian’s calf. His friend unfolded with a startled cry that made someone in a distant chamber shift and grunt in their sleep.
    “What d’ye mean ye dinna ken? How could ye not notice?” he gibed.
    “Ah…well…she…erm…she did me wi’ her hand,” Ian blurted. “Before I could…well.”
    “Oh.” Jamie rolled onto his back, somewhat deflated in spirit, if not in flesh. His cock seemed still to want to hear the details.
    “Is that seriously wrong?” Ian asked, turning his face toward Jamie again. “Or—well, I canna say I really gave full
consent
to it, because that wasna what I had in mind doing at all, but…”
    “I think ye’re headed for the Bad Place,” Jamie assured him. “Ye meant to do it, whether ye managed or not. And how did it happen, come to that? Did she just…take hold?”
    Ian let out a long, long sigh and sank his head in his hands. He looked as though it hurt.
    “Well, we kissed for a bit, and there was more brandy—lots more. She…er…she’d take a mouthful and kiss me and, er…put it into my mouth, and—”
    “Ifrinn!”
    “Will ye not say, ‘Hell!’ like that, please? I dinna want to think about it.”
    “Sorry. Go on. Did she let ye feel her breasts?”
    “Just a bit. She wouldna take her stays off, but I could feel her nipples through her shift—did ye say something?”
    “No,” Jamie said with an effort. “What then?”
    “Well, she put her hand under my kilt and then pulled it out again like she’d touched a snake.”
    “And had she?”
    “She had, aye. She was shocked. Will ye no snort like that?” he said, annoyed. “Ye’ll wake the whole house. It was because it wasna circumcised.”
    “Oh. Is that why she wouldna…er…the regular way?”
    “She didna say so, but maybe. After a bit, though, she wanted to look at it, and that’s when…well.”
    “Mmphm.” Naked demons versus the chance of damnation or not, Jamie thought Ian had had well the best of it this evening. A thought occurred to him. “Why did ye ask if being circumcised hurts? Ye werena thinking of doing it, were ye? For her, I mean?”
    “I wouldna say the thought hadna occurred to me,” Ian admitted. “I mean…I thought I should maybe marry her, under the