" How the devil was she fooled into firing in the first place? Don’t tell me that wasn’t your fault,’ said Lord Culter, a familiar wariness displacing the warmth of reunion.
‘All right, I won’t,’ said Lymond. ‘Jerott, did you get shot also? No. Then kindly muster the lady in your monkish arms and ride with her to the castle. Yours is the only reputation that will stand it. And don’t say I don’t endow you with princely rewards for sitting on your bloody arse doing precisely nothing.’
Which was the manner of Lymond’s homecoming from Malta. "
― Dorothy Dunnett , The Disorderly Knights (The Lymond Chronicles, #3)