A Plague of Zombies: An Outlander Novella by Diana Gabaldon Read Free Book Online

Twelvetrees rather obviously did not want his sister alarmed by any mention of the present situation. Grey gave him the faintest of nods in acknowledgement, and Twelvetrees relaxed visibly, settling down to exchange polite social conversation.
    ‘And what it is that brings you to Jamaica, Colonel Grey?’ Miss Twelvetrees asked eventually. Knowing this was coming, Grey had devised an answer of careful vagueness, having to do with the Crown’s concern for shipping. Halfway through this taradiddle, though, Miss Twelvetrees gave him a very direct look and demanded, ‘Are you here because of the governor?’
    ‘Nan!’ said her brother, shocked.
    ‘Are you?’ she repeated, ignoring her brother. Her eyes were very bright, and her cheeks flushed.
    Grey smiled at her.
    ‘What makes you think that that might be the case, may I ask, ma’am?’
    ‘Because if you haven’t come to remove Derwent Warren from his office, then
someone
should!’
    ‘Nancy!’ Philip was nearly as flushed as his sister. He leaned forward, grasping her wrist. ‘Nancy, please!’
    She made as though to pull away, but then, seeing his pleading face, contented herself with a simple ‘Hmph!’ and sat back in her chair, mouth set in a thin line.
    Grey would dearly have liked to know what lay behind Miss Twelvetrees’s animosity toward the governor, but he couldn’t well inquire directly. Instead, he guided the conversation smoothly away, inquiring of Philip regarding the operations of the plantation and of Miss Twelvetrees regarding the natural history of Jamaica, for which she seemed to have some feeling, judging by the rather good watercolours of plants and animals that hung about the room, all neatly signed
N. T
.
    Gradually, the sense of tension in the room relaxed, and Grey became aware that Miss Twelvetrees was focusing her attentions upon him. Not quite flirting—she was not built for flirtation—but definitely going out of her way to make him aware of her as a woman. He didn’t quite know what she had in mind—he was presentable enough but didn’t think she was truly attracted to him. Still, he made no move to stop her; if Philip should leave them alone together, he might be able to find out why she had said that about Governor Warren.
    A quarter hour later, a mulatto man in a well-made suit put his head in at the door to the drawing room and asked if he might speak with Philip. He cast a curious eye towards Grey, but Twelvetrees made no move to introduce them, instead excusing himself and taking the visitor—who, Grey conceived, must be an overseer of some kind—to the far end of the large, airy room, where they conferred in low voices.
    He at once seized the opportunity to fix his attention on Miss Nancy, in hopes of turning the conversation to his own ends.
    ‘I collect you are acquainted with the governor, Miss Twelvetrees?’ he asked, to which she gave a short laugh.
    ‘Better than I might wish, sir.’
    ‘Really?’ he said, in as inviting a tone as possible.
    ‘Really,’ she said, and smiled unpleasantly. ‘But let us not waste time in discussing a … a person of such low character.’ The smile altered, and she leaned towards him, touching his hand, which surprised him. ‘Tell me, Colonel, does your wife accompany you? Or does she remain in London, from fear of fevers and slave uprisings?’
    ‘Alas, I am unmarried, ma’am,’ he said, thinking that she likely knew a good deal morethan her brother wished her to.
    ‘Really,’ she said again, in an altogether different tone.
    Her touch lingered on his hand, a fraction of a moment too long. Not long enough to be blatant, but long enough for a normal man to perceive it—and Grey’s reflexes in such matters were much better developed than a normal man’s, from necessity.
    He barely thought consciously but smiled at her, then glanced at her brother, then back, with the tiniest of regretful shrugs. He forbore to add the lingering smile that would have