Diana Gabaldon · @Writer_DG
20th Feb 2014 from TwitLonger
#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #OutJUNE10th #hottingup
“Been busy?” The British Legion had been fighting; William could smell the smoke on them and a couple of men with what looked like minor wounds were sitting against the barn, uniforms streaked with blood. The barn doors hung open on emptiness and the yard was trampled and spotted with dung; he wondered for a moment whether the farmer had driven his own stock away, or whether one or another of the armies had taken the animals.
“Not nearly busy enough,” Tarleton replied, reading the note. “This may help, though. We’re to go reinforce my lord Cornwallis.” His face was flushed with the heat and his leather stock was clearly cutting into his thick, muscular neck, but he looked exceedingly cheerful at the prospect.
“Good,” said William, reining up to turn and go, but Tarleton stopped him with a raised hand. He tucked the dispatch away in his pocket, along with the green kerchief.
“Since I see you, Ellesmere…saw a tasty piece last night in camp, in the bread-line,” he said. Tarleton sucked his lower lip for an instant and released it, red and wet. “_Very_ tasty, and a sweet little sister with her, too, though that one’s not quite ripe enough for me.” William raised his brows, but felt himself tense in thighs and shoulders.
“Made her an offer,” Tarleton said, overtly careless but with a swift glance at William’s hands. William relaxed them with an effort. “She declined, though—said she was yours?” This last was not quite a question, but not quite not.
“If her name is Jane,” William said shortly, “she and her sister are traveling under my protection.”
Tarleton’s quizzical look flowered into open amusement.
“Your protection,” he repeated. His full lips twitched. “I believe she told me that her name was Arabella, though—perhaps we’re thinking of different girls.”
“No, we’re not.” William did _not_ want to be having this conversation, and gathered up his reins. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
That was a mistake; Tarleton never passed up a challenge. His eyes sparkled and William saw him set himself, legs spread.
“Fight you for her,” he said.