Dragonfly in Amber - Diana Gabaldon [170]
“Yes, that’s right,” I said. “You’ve heard the name, Magnus?”
“Why, yes, milady,” the old man answered. “La Dame Blanche is une sorcière.”
“A sorceress?” I said incredulously.
Magnus shrugged, tucking in the napkin around the rolls with excessive care, not looking at me.
“The White Lady,” he murmured. “She is called a wisewoman, a healer. And yet…she sees to the center of a man, and can turn his soul to ashes, if evil be found there.” He bobbed his head, turned, and shuffled off hastily in the direction of the kitchen. I saw his elbow bob, and realized that he was crossing himself as he went.
“Jesus H. Christ,” I said, turning back to Jamie. “Did you ever hear of La Dame Blanche?”
“Um? Oh? Oh, aye, I’ve…heard the stories.” Jamie’s eyes were hidden by long auburn lashes as he buried his nose in his cup of chocolate, but the blush on his cheeks was too deep to be put down to the heat of the rising steam.
I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms, and regarded him narrowly.
“Oh, you have?” I said. “Would it surprise you to hear that the men who attacked Mary and me last night referred to me as La Dame Blanche?”
“They did?” He looked up quickly at that, startled.
I nodded. “They took one look at me in the light, shouted ‘La Dame Blanche,’ and then ran off as though they’d just noticed I had plague.”
Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The red color was fading from his face, leaving it pale as the white china plate before him.
“God in heaven,” he said, half to himself. “God…in…heaven!”
I leaned across the table and took the cup from his hand.
“Would you like to tell me just what you know about La Dame Blanche?” I suggested gently.
“Well…” He hesitated, but then looked at me sheepishly. “It’s only…I told Glengarry that you were La Dame Blanche.”
“You told Glengarry what?” I choked on the bite of roll I had taken. Jamie pounded me helpfully on the back.
“Well, it was Glengarry and Castellotti, was what it was,” he said defensively. “I mean, playing at cards and dice is one thing, but they wouldna leave it at that. And they thought it verra funny that I’d wish to be faithful to my wife. They said…well, they said a number of things, and I…I got rather tired of it.” He looked away, the tips of his ears burning.
“Mm,” I said, sipping tea. Having heard Castellotti’s tongue in action, I could imagine the sort of merciless teasing Jamie had taken.
He drained his own cup at one swallow, then occupied himself with carefully refilling it, keeping his eyes fixed on the pot to avoid meeting mine. “But I couldna just walk out and leave them, either, could I?” he demanded. “I had to stay with His Highness through the evening, and it would do no good to have him thinkin’ me unmanly.”
“So you told them I was La Dame Blanche,” I said, trying hard to keep any hint of laughter out of my voice. “And if you tried any funny business with ladies of the evening, I’d shrivel your private parts.”
“Er, well…”
“My God, they believed it?” I could feel my own face flushing as hotly as Jamie’s, with the effort to control myself.
“I was verra convincing about it,” he said, one corner of his mouth beginning to twitch. “Swore them all to secrecy on their mothers’ lives.”
“And how much did you all have to drink before this?”
“Oh, a fair bit. I waited ’til the fourth bottle.”
I gave up the struggle and burst out laughing.
“Oh, Jamie!” I said. “You darling!” I leaned over and kissed his furiously blushing cheek.
“Well,” he said awkwardly, slathering butter over a chunk of bread. “It was the best I could think of. And they did stop pushing trollops into my arms.”
“Good,” I said. I took the bread from him, added honey, and gave it back.
“I can hardly complain about it,” I observed. “Since in addition to guarding your virtue, it seems to have kept me from being raped.”
“Aye, thank God.” He set down the roll and grasped my hand. “Christ, if anything had happened to you, Sassenach, I’d—”
“Yes,” I interrupted, “but if the men who attacked us knew I was supposed to be La Dame Blanche…”
“Aye, Sassenach.