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Outlander 01 - Outlander(95)

Author:Diana Gabaldon

Suddenly he whirled back to me with an abrupt "Parlez-vous fran?ais?"

"Très bien," I promptly replied. "What of it?"

Head to one side, he looked me over carefully.

"Damme if I think you're French," he said, as though to himself. "Could be, I suppose, but I've yet to meet a Frenchie could tell a Cockney from a Cornishman."

His neatly manicured fingers tapped the wood of the table-top. "What was your maiden name, Mrs. Beauchamp?"

"Look, Captain," I said, smiling as charmingly as I could, "entertaining as it is to play Twenty Questions with you, I should really like to conclude these preliminaries and arrange for the continuation of my journey. I've already been delayed for some time, and—"

"You do not help your case by adopting this frivolous attitude, Madam," he interrupted, narrowing his eyes. I had seen Frank do that when displeased about something, and I felt a little weak in the knees. I put my hands on my thighs to brace myself.

"I have no case to help," I said, as boldly as I could. "I'm making no claims on you, the garrison, or for that matter, on the MacKenzies. All I want is to be allowed to resume my journey in peace. And I see no reason why you ought to have any objection to that."

He glared at me, lips pressed tight together in irritation.

"Oh, you don't? Well, consider my position for a moment, Madam, and perhaps my objections will become clearer. A month ago I was, with my men, in hot pursuit of a band of unidentified Scottish bandits who had absconded with a small herd of cattle from an estate near the border, when—"

"Oh, so that's what they were doing!" I exclaimed. "I wondered," I added lamely.

Captain Randall breathed heavily, then decided against whatever he had been going to say, in favor of continuing his story.

"In the midst of this lawful pursuit," he went on, in measured tones, "I encounter a half-dressed Englishwoman—in a place where no Englishwoman should be, even with a proper escort—who resists my inquiries, assaults my person—"

"You assaulted mine first!" I said hotly.

"Whose accomplice renders me unconscious by a cowardly attack, and who then flees the area, plainly with some assistance. My men and I searched that area most thoroughly, and I assure you, Madam, there was no trace of your murdered servant, your plundered baggage, your discarded gown, nor the merest sign that there is the slightest truth to your story!"

"Oh?" I said, a little weakly.

"Yes. Furthermore, there have been no reports of bandits in that area within the last four months. And now, Madam, you turn up in company with the war chieftain of clan Mac Kenzie, who tells me that his brother Colum is convinced you are a spy, presumably working for me!"

"Well, I'm not, am I?" I said, reasonably. "You know that, at least."

"Yes, I know that," he said with exaggerated patience. "What I don't know is who the devil you are! But I mean to find out, Madam, have no doubts as to that. I am the commander of this garrison. As such, I am empowered to take certain steps in order to secure the safety of this area against traitors, spies, and any other persons whose behavior I consider suspicious. And those steps, Madam, I am fully prepared to take."

"And just what might those steps be?" I inquired. I honestly wanted to know, though I suppose the tone of my question must have sounded rather baiting.

He stood up, looked down at me consideringly for a moment, then walked around the table, extended his hand, and drew me to my feet.

"Corporal Hawkins," he said, still staring at me, "I shall require your assistance for a moment."

The youth by the wall looked profoundly uneasy, but sidled over to us.

"Stand behind the lady, please, Corporal," Randall said, sounding bored. "And take her firmly by both elbows."

He drew back his arm and hit me in the pit of the stomach.

I made no noise, because I had no breath. I sat on the floor, doubled over, struggling to draw air into my lungs. I was shocked far beyond the actual pain of the blow, which was beginning to make itself felt, along with a wave of giddy sickness. In a fairly eventful life, no one had ever purposely struck me before.

The Captain squatted down in front of me. His wig was slightly awry, but aside from that and a certain brightness to his eyes, he showed no change from his normal controlled elegance.

"I trust you are not with child, Madam," he said in a conversational tone, "because if you are, you won't be for long."

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