Diana Gabaldon · @Writer_DG
23rd Aug 2013 from TwitLonger
#DailyLines #MOBY #WrittenINMyOWNHeartsBLOOD #Book8 #OutMARCH2014 #dinnerwiththeHighCommand
Rollo, who had come in—naturally—with Young Ian and was sitting behind him, across the table from me, lifted his head and poked a long, hairy snout between Ian and General Lee, sniffing interestedly at the cheese.
“Good Christ!” Lee apparently hadn’t noticed the dog before this and flung himself to one side, nearly ending in Jamie’s lap. This action distracted Rollo, who turned his attention to Lee, sniffing him with close attention.
I didn’t blame the dog. Charles Lee was a tall, thin man with a long, thin nose, and the most revolting eating habits I’d seen since Jemmy had learned to feed himself with a spoon. He not only talked while he ate and chewed with his mouth open, but was given to wild gestures while holding things in his hand, with the result that the front of his uniform was streaked with egg, soup, jelly, and a number of less identifiable substances.
Port wine was brought—evidently the meal was being hosted by the Marquis; I had the distinct feeling that the high command of the Continental Army didn’t always eat this well. The men had largely avoided talking about the impending battle during the meal, but I could feel the subject looming like an approaching thunderstorm, bright-rimmed black clouds, excitingly shot with flickers of lightning. I began to rearrange my skirts and make gestures of incipient leave-taking, and saw Jamie, seated next to Lee across the table, notice and smile at me.
Lee noticed, too—he’d been gazing in an absent way at my decolletage—and broke off the anecdote he’d been telling Ian, seated on his other side.
‘’Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma’am,’ he said cordially. ‘Your husband obliges us extremely by allowing us the delight of your company. I—‘
Lee stopped abruptly in mid-sentence—and mid-bite, staring at Rollo, who had unobtrusively moved closer and was now standing no more than a couple of feet from the general. Given the low bench on which Lee was sitting and Rollo’s size, this proximity placed them roughly eye to eye.
“Why is that dog looking at me like that?” Lee demanded, swinging round to glare at Ian.
“He’s waitin’ to see what ye drop next, I expect,” Ian said, chewing placidly.
“If I were you, sir,” Jamie put in politely, “I’d drop something quickly.”