I filled the cups with brandy, sat down again, and fixed John Grey with a narrow eye. "What are you doing here?" I said, without preamble. He opened his light blue eyes very wide, then lowered his very long lashes and batted them deliberately at me. "I did not come with the intention of seducing your husband, I assure you," he said. "John!" Jamie's fist struck the table with a force that rattled the teacups. His cheekbones were flushed dark red, and he was scowling with embarrassed fury. "Sorry." Grey, by contrast, had gone white, though he remained otherwise visibly unruffled. It occurred to me for the first time that he might possibly be as unnerved as Jamie by this meeting. "My apologies, ma'am," he said, with a curt nod in my direction. "That was unforgivable. I would point out, however, that you have been looking at me since we met as though you had encountered me lying in the gutter outside some notorious mollyhouse." A light flush burned over his face now, too. "Sorry," I breathed. "Give me a bit more notice next time, and I'll take care to adjust my features.
( Diana Gabaldon )
[ Drums of Autumn ]
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