Catherine Coulter: Pendragon

Douglas laughed. "Bless my mother, at least she will never change. You will have fun, Meggie, that's what it's all about."

The evening of the Ranleigh ball, Alex said as she smoothed her hands over the soft silk of her deep rose ball gown, "I am so pleased that my waistline is finally down to where my waist actually is."

"On the other hand," Douglas said, looking over at his wife, "you always looked splendid in the empire style, with the focus on your endowments."

Meggie wasn't particularly surprised; it had always been so with her aunts and uncles. She saw her uncle's fingers creep toward her aunt's shoulder, pause, then fall back to his side.

After Douglas had seated his two ladies in the Northcliffe carriage, tapped his gloved fist against the roof, he said to Meggie as the carriage rolled forward, "You will be treated very nicely because, to be very honest about it, no one would ever dare to insult one of my family. On the other hand, both Alex and I are rather well liked in society, as is your uncle Ryder and aunt Sophie. You will be your charming self, and if you have a question about how to behave in any given situation, just ask either Alex or me."

"It's still rather scary," Meggie said. "I suspect the balls here are very different from ours in Glenclose-on-Rowan."

"People are the same," Alex said. "It's just the gowns and jewels that are more splendid."

"Some people are idiots," said Douglas.

"And some are not," Alex said. "Just like at home."

"However," Douglas said, "as I told you, if any man does anything that makes you uncomfortable, you will immediately tell him to take himself off. Then you will show me the clod and I will feed him a few choice words."

"Yes, Douglas is quite good at that, although he hasn't had much practice for a long time."

Douglas sighed, crossed his arms over his chest. "Just think, Alex. In a couple of years all the boys will be let loose on London. Can you begin to imagine the sorts of messes they will embroil us in?"

Alex groaned.

Meggie laughed. She thought of their twin boys, James and Jason-the most beautiful males she'd ever seen in her life. She rolled her eyes, thinking of the two of them strolling into a ballroom and hoards of wide-eyed ladies swooning in ecstasy.

Lord and Lady Ranleigh greeted their guests at the bottom of the grand staircase that led up to their pride and joy-a ballroom occupying the entire second floor.

"The first Sherbrooke offspring to appear in Society," Lady Ranleigh said, smiling at Meggie. "You are blessed with your family, my dear. There are many people eager to meet you. I trust you will enjoy yourself."

Meggie said, "Oh yes, ma'am, Aunt Alex says I am to dance holes in my slippers."

Meggie continued to smile, to laugh, to make jests with all sorts of people who were perfectly pleasant to her. Young gentlemen came by to meet her and stayed or asked her to dance. It was just before the midnight dinner that she saw a tall man she knew looked familiar. She cocked her head to one side as she stared at him.

Surely she'd met him before, but where? The tilt of his head, she knew she'd seen him somewhere before. But it wasn't just his air of familiarity that held her in place. It was the oddest thing. Meggie felt the impact of him to her toes, which, she was forced to admit, were on the sore side what with dancing every dance.

She recognized that impact in the deepest part of her. She hadn't forgotten it. It had simply lain dormant for a goodly number of years.

She was still looking toward him when she reached her aunt Alex. Her heart was beating, slow deep thuds. Why wouldn't he turn around? It had to be him, it just had to.

"You are enjoying yourself, love?"

Meggie managed to look away from him a moment. "Oh yes, I just danced with Viscount Glover. He speaks Spanish fluently and wants to enlarge his father's succession houses."

"Hmmm. He is an interesting young man. I believe he lost his wife in childbirth just last year."

Meggie nodded, but she wasn't paying attention. She was staring at that man. "Who is that man, Aunt Alex? The one who is speaking to the three gentlemen beneath that chandelier?"

Uncle Douglas came up behind his wife just then. "What man, Meggie?"

"That one," Meggie said, and watched her uncle turn to look at him. At that moment the man finally turned.

"Well," Douglas said slowly, "this is a pleasant surprise. I hadn't known he was in town."

Meggie was staring. No wonder she'd felt the familiarity, the impact that jarred her to her soul. It was Jeremy Stanton-Greville, Aunt Sophie's younger brother. She had fallen in love with him when she was thirteen years old and he was a wild young man of nearly twenty-four. She'd looked at him with a young girl's full heart and fallen at his feet, at least metaphorically speaking.

Douglas said to her, "I'm surprised you don't recognize him, Meggie, it's Jeremy Stanton-Greville. One of your numerous cousins."

"Oh no, he isn't really my cousin, Uncle Douglas," she said, and was so glad of that fact that she nearly shouted with the relief of it, with the wonder of it. He was finally back in her life, and now she was finally old enough for him. "He's my almost-cousin."

MEGGIE LOOKED AT him again, really looked, and she was so excited, she had to really pay attention or she knew she'd stutter herself right out of the ballroom and look like an idiot. "He looks a bit different. Of course it's been a very long time since I last saw him. Goodness, I don't remember him as being so very tall, and so stylish. Was that his laugh? Oh yes, I'm sure it's him laughing. It was a wonderful laugh, all deep and full, don't you think; and-" Meggie pulled back from the precipice and gulped because her aunt was looking at her with a good deal of appalled comprehension.

"Hmmm," said Uncle Douglas, all his attention focused on Meggie now. She'd been the cutest little girl, a benevolent tyrant to her brothers, the ruler of all the male cousins. But she wasn't a little girl any longer. Jeremy Stanton-Greville? There were a lot of years separating them-a good dozen-too many in Douglas's opinion. At least Jeremy wasn't yet married; Douglas would have been notified. "All right, then," he said slowly. "Why don't I fetch Jeremy and we can enjoy dinner together? Get reacquainted?"

"Yes," said Aunt Alex comfortably. "It's always interesting to reminisce, don't you think, Meggie? We haven't seen Jeremy in at least five years. He appears to have become a fine-looking man."

"Yes," Meggie said, never taking her eyes off him. "Do I look all right, Aunt Alex? My gown? My hair? Is my nose too shiny?"

"You look perfect." So much for flirting and just enjoying herself and not husband hunting, Alex thought, seeing her niece's heart in her beautiful Sherbrooke eyes as she stared at Jeremy Stanton-Greville, who had now turned and was speaking to Douglas. He was nearly Douglas's height, well formed, a big man, and his hair was a dark rich brown, his eyes dark as well. Then he smiled and nodded and walked beside Douglas toward them. Alex saw that he limped slightly and remembered that he'd been born with a club foot, but it hadn't slowed him down a bit, according to his brother-in-law, Ryder, who'd seen that he'd learned to fight dirty and ride like a centaur. He'd been a terror, Ryder had proudly said, during his years at Eton.

As Meggie watched him come closer and closer, her stomach pitched wildly. She felt like a fool, a dolt. She couldn't think of a word to say. All she wanted to do was hurl herself at him and beg him to marry her.

Well, perhaps not yet. That would be rushing things just a bit. Maybe tomorrow or even the next day. She cleared her throat. She had to say something, had to charm him, show off her wit, if she could manage to find it.