Drums of Autumn - Diana Gabaldon [115]
“I don’t suppose I can stop you.”
“To say nothing of the effect of candlelight upon your skin. ‘Thy neck is as a tower of ivory,’ ” he quoted, drawing a thumb insinuatingly over my palm, “ ‘thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon.’ ”
“ ‘Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon, which looketh toward Damascus,’ ” I said, with a pointed look at his aristocratically pronounced proboscis.
He burst out laughing, but didn’t let go. I stole a glance at Jocasta, who stood only a few feet away; she seemed engrossed in conversation with a new arrival, but experience had taught me just how sharp her ears were.
“How old are you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him and trying to retrieve my hand without unseemly struggle.
“Five-and-twenty, ma’am,” he answered, rather surprised. He patted at the star-shaped patch near his mouth with a finger of his free hand. “Am I looking indecently haggard?”
“No. I merely wished to be sure I was telling you the truth in informing you that I am old enough to be your mother!”
This news appeared not to distress him in the slightest. Instead he raised my hand to his lips and pressed them fervently upon it.
“I am enchanted,” he breathed. “May I call you Maman?”
Ulysses stood behind Jocasta, dark eyes intent on the guests coming up the lighted walk from the river—he leaned forward now and then to whisper in her ear. I removed my hand from Wylie’s grasp by main force, and used it to tap the butler on the shoulder.
“Ulysses,” I said, smiling charmingly at Wylie, “would you be so kind as to ensure that Mr. Wylie is seated near me at dinner?”
“Indeed, madame; I will attend to it,” he assured me, and returned at once to his surveillance.
Mr. Wylie bowed extravagantly, professing undying gratitude, and allowed himself to be propelled into the house by one of the footmen. I waved pleasantly after him, thinking how much I should enjoy sticking a fork into him, when the time came.
I couldn’t tell whether it was the luck of the draw, or considerate planning, but I found myself between Mr. Wylie and the Quaker, Mr. Husband, with Mr. Hunter—the other non-Gaelic speaker—across the table from me. We formed a small island of English in the midst of a sea of swirling Scots.
Jamie had appeared at the last moment, and was now seated at the head of the table, with Jocasta at his right hand. For the dozenth time, I wondered what was going on. I kept a sharp eye on him, a clean fork by my plate, ready for action, but we had reached the third course with no untoward occurrence.
“I am surprised to find a gentleman of your persuasion in attendance at such an occasion, Mr. Husband. Does not such frivolity offend you?” Having failed to divert my attention to himself during the first two courses, Wylie now resorted to leaning across me, the action bringing his thigh casually into contact with mine.
Hermon Husband smiled. “Even Quakers must eat, Friend Wylie. And I have had the honor to enjoy Mrs. Cameron’s hospitality on many occasions; I should not think to refuse it now, only because she extends it to others.” He switched his attention back to me, resuming our interrupted conversation.
“Thou asked of the Regulators, Mrs. Fraser?” He nodded across the table. “I should recommend thy questions to Mr. Hunter, for if the Regulators might be said to enjoy the benefits of leadership, it is to this gentleman that they look.”
Mr. Hunter bowed at the compliment. A tall, lantern-jawed individual, he was more plainly dressed than most of those in attendance, though not a Quaker. He and Mr. Husband were traveling together, both returning from Wilmington to their homes in the backcountry. With Governor Tryon’s offer in mind, I wanted to find out whatever I could about matters in that area.
“We are but a loose assembly,” he said modestly, putting down his wineglass. “In truth, I should be reluctant to claim any title whatever; it is only that I am fortunate enough to have a homestead so situated that it is a convenient meeting place.”
“One hears that the Regulators are mere rabble.” Wylie dabbed at his lips, careful not