The Fiery Cross - Diana Gabaldon [617]
“Do you know him?” I asked Brianna, who was dubiously examining her husband’s old friend.
“I think he might have been on a ship with Roger once,” she replied, renewing her grip on Jemmy, who was wildly excited by the sight of seagulls, finding these much more entertaining than Mr. Duff.
“Why, look at him!” Duff exclaimed, finally standing back and wiping a sleeve happily under his nose. “A coat like a lairdie’s and buttons to match. And the hat! Christ, lad, ye’re so slick these days as shit wouldna stick to ye, would it?”
Roger laughed, and bent to pick up his soggy hat. He slapped it against his thigh to dislodge a strand of bladder-wrack, and handed it absently to Bree, who was still viewing Mr. Duff with a rather narrow eye.
“My wife,” Roger introduced her, and waved a hand at the rest of us. “And her family. Mr. James Fraser, Mrs. Fraser . . . and my wife’s good-sister, also Mrs. MacKenzie.”
“Your servant, sir—ladies.” Duff bowed to Jamie, and put a finger to the disreputable object on his head in brief token of respect. He glanced at Brianna, and a broad grin stretched his lips.
“Oh, so ye married her. Got her out o’ the breeks, I see.” He nudged Roger familiarly in the ribs, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Did ye pay her faither for her, or did he pay you to take her?” He emitted a creaking noise, which I took to be laughter.
Jamie and Bree gave Mr. Duff identical cold looks down the bridges of their long, straight noses, but before Roger could reply, the other oarsman shouted something incomprehensible from the boat below.
“Oh, aye, aye, hold your water, man.” Mr. Duff waved a quelling hand at his partner. “That’s by way of a jest,” he explained to me confidentially. “What with us bein’ sailors, ken. ‘Hold your water,’ aye? Forbye ye don’t hold water, then ye’ll be at the bottom o’ the harbor, aye?” He quivered with merriment, making the creaking noise again.
“Most amusing,” I assured him. “Did he say something about a whale?”
“Oh, to be sure! Was that not why ye’ve come down to the shore this morning?”
Everyone looked blank.
“No,” Marsali said, too bent upon her errand to pay much attention to anything else, including whales. “Germain, come back here! No, sir, we’ve come to see if there’s any word of the Octopus. Ye’ll not have heard anything, yourself?”
Duff shook his head.
“No, Missus. But the weather’s been that treacherous off the Banks for a month past . . .” He saw Marsali’s face go pale, and hastened to add, “A good many ships will ha’ sheered off, see? Gone to another port, maybe, or lyin’ to just off the coast, in hopes of fair skies to make the run in. Ye recall, MacKenzie—we did that ourselves, when we came in wi’ the Gloriana.”
“Aye, that’s true.” Roger nodded, though his eyes grew wary at mention of the Gloriana. He glanced briefly at Brianna, then back at Duff, and lowered his voice slightly. “You’ve parted company with Captain Bonnet, I see.”
A small jolt shot through the soles of my feet, as though the dock had been electrified. Jamie and Bree both reacted, too, though in different fashion. He took an immediate step toward Duff, she took one back.
“Stephen Bonnet?” Jamie said, eyeing Duff with interest. “Ye’ll be acquainted with that gentleman, will ye?”
“I have been, sir,” Duff said, and crossed himself.
Jamie nodded slowly, seeing this.
“Aye, I see. And will ye ken somewhat about Mr. Bonnet’s present whereabouts, perhaps?”
“Och, well, as to that . . .”
Duff looked up at him speculatively, taking in the details of his clothing and appearance, and obviously wondering