Diana Gabaldon · @Writer_DG
3rd May 2013 from TwitLonger
#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #premaritalcounseling
“Aye, well. It’s only—your Auntie Claire was widowed when I wed her, aye?”
“Oh, aye?”
“So it was me that was virgin on our wedding night.”
Ian hadn’t thought he’d moved, but Rollo jerked his head up and looked at him, startled. Ian cleared his throat.
“Oh. Aye?”
“Aye,” said his uncle, wry as a lemon. “And I was given any amount of advice beforehand, too, by my uncle Dougal and his men.”
Dougal MacKenzie had died before Ian was born, but he’d heard a good bit about the man, one way and another. His mouth twitched.
“Would ye care to pass on any of it?”
“God, no.” Jamie stood up and brushed bits of bark from the tails of his coat. “I think ye already ken ye should be gentle about it, aye?”
“Aye, I’d thought of that,” Ian assured him. “Nothing else?”
“Aye, well.” Jamie stood still, considering. “The only useful thing was what my wife told me on the night. ‘Go slowly and pay attention.’ I think ye canna go far wrong wi’ that.” He settled his coat on his shoulders. “_Oidche mhath_, Ian. I’ll see ye at first light—if not somewhat before.”
“_Oidche mhath_, uncle Jamie.”
As Jamie reached the edge of the clearing, Ian called after him.
“Uncle Jamie!”
Jamie turned to look over his shoulder.
“Aye?”
“And was she gentle with ye?”
“God, no,” Jamie said, and grinned broadly.