Microsoft Word - MacGregor from the past 01. Rebellion - pdfMachine from Broadgun Software, http://pdfmachine.com, a great PDF writer utility! by Rebellion

Author:Rebellion [Rebellion]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-16T23:29:56.178000+00:00

Glenroe might have been remote, with the nearest shop half a day's ride away, but the Scot's love of fashion was no less than that of the Frenchman or the Englishman.

Brigham was introduced to the pretty and the plain by his hostess. When the music began, he would do his duty. For now, he curbed his impatience as he continued to scan the room for the one face he wanted to see. Willing or not, he was determined to lead her out in the first dance, and for as many others as he could manage.

"The little Macintosh lass has the grace of a bullock," Coll confided in his ear. "If you find yourself shackled with her, best to offer to fetch her a drink and sit out the dance."

"I appreciate the warning." Brigham turned to examine his friend. "You look quite self-satisfied. Shall I take it that your interview with MacDonald went as you wished?"

Coll's chest puffed out. "You may take it that Maggie and I will be wed by May Day."

"My felicitations," Brigham said with a bow. Then he grinned. "I shall have to find someone else to drink under the table."

Coll snorted and fought off a blush. "Not likely. I wish I could ride with you to London."

"Your place is here now. I'll be back in a matter of weeks."

"With cheering news. We'll continue to work here, but not tonight. Tonight's for celebrating." He clapped a hand on Brigham's shoulder. "There's my Maggie now. If you want a turn with someone light on her feet, ask Serena to stand up with you. A foul temper she might have, but the lass can dance."

Brigham could only nod as Coll strode away to claim his betrothed. Beside the demure Maggie MacDonald, Serena stood like a flame, her hair dressed high, the rich green silk of the dress trimmed in gold and cut square at the neck to reveal the smooth swell of her breasts. There were pearls around her throat, gleaming dully, no whiter, no creamier, than her skin. Her skirts flared out, making her slender waist seem impossibly small.

Other women were dressed more opulently, some with their hair powdered, others with jewels glistening. They might have been hags dressed in burlap. Serena looked up at Coll and laughed. Brigham felt as though he'd taken a stroke of the broadsword across his knees.

As the strains of the first dance began, several young ladies cast a hopeful look in his direction. Brigham found his feet and moved across the room to Serena.

"Miss MacGregor." He made her an elegant bow. "Might I have the honor of this dance?"

She had made up her mind to refuse him, should he ask. Now she found herself wordlessly offering her hand. The strains of a minuet floated through the room. Skirts rustled as ladies were led to their places by their partners. Suddenly she was certain she would never remember even the most basic steps. Then he smiled at her and bowed again.

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