“Have you been drinking it?” She eyed him narrowly, but his lips appeared to be their usual color.
Of course not. He leaned over and kissed her, to prove it. “Surely ye dinna think a Scotsman like Ronnie would deal wi’ disappointment by drinking Cherry Bounce? When there’s decent whisky to hand?”
Diana Gabaldon, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (Chapter 6 – Ambush)
“Eleven-fifty,” Brianna declared, popping into the surgery after me, her own cloak over her arm. “I just checked Mr. Guthrie’s watch.”
“Plenty of time. Are ye coming with me, then?” Roger grinned at Bree, seeing her cloak.
“Are you kidding? I haven’t been out after midnight in years.” She grinned back at him, swirling the cloak around her shoulders. “Got everything?”
“All but the salt.” Roger nodded toward a canvas bag on the counter. A firstfoot was to bring gifts to the house: an egg, a faggot of wood, a bit of salt — and a bit of whisky, thus insuring that the household would not lack for necessities during the coming year.
Diana Gabaldon, The Fiery Cross (Chapter 35)
