Teaser Thursday (13): An Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon
I’m still plugging away at An Echo in the Bone, though since I’ve read it before and I’m in no great rush to finish it, I have read two other books in the mean time. But before I can go off on too much of a tangent, here is your teaser for the week. Claire has just come upon a bloodied and battered Jamie after the latter has been in battle and is giving him a good scolding for scaring her so badly:
“You didn’t have to go to Ticonderoga! You shouldn’t have gone! Stick to the writing and the printing, you said. You weren’t going to fight unless you had to, you said. Well, you didn’t have to, but you did it anyway, you vainglorious, pigheaded, grandstanding Scot!”
“Grandstanding?” he inquired.
“You know just what I mean, because it’s just what you did! You might have been killed!”
“Aye,” he agreed ruefully. “I thought I was, when the dragoon came down on me. I screeched and scairt his horse, though,” he added more cheerfully. “It reared up and got me in the face with its knee.”
“Don’t change the subject!” I snapped.
“Is the subject not that I’m not killed?” he asked, trying to raise one brow and failing, with another wince.
“No, the subject is your stupidity, your bloody selfish stubbornness!”
“Yes, that! You – you – oaf! How dare you do that to me? You think I haven’t got anything better to do with my life than trot round after you, sticking pieces back on?” I was frankly shrieking at him by this time.
To my increased fury, he grinned at me, his expression made the more rakish by the half-closed eye.
“Ye’d have been a good fishwife, Sassenach,” he observed, “Ye’ve the tongue for it.”
“You shut up, you [oops, somebody said a naughty word] bloody -”
“They’ll hear you,” he said mildly, with a wave toward the party of Continental soldiers making their way down the slope toward us.
“I don’t care who hears me! If you weren’t already hurt, I’d – I’d”
“Be careful, Sassenach,” he said, still grinning, “Ye dinna want to knock off any more pieces; ye’ll only have to stick them back on, aye?” (548-549).