Part 18 (1/2)
Jamie felt his cheeks redden as he picked up the lute and joined the musicians. At a nod from Brice he began to play. Within minutes he forgot his nervousness as the music flowed through his fingers.
”I have not danced since I left France,” Mary said with a pretty little pout, ”seeing that dancing has been forbidden here in Scotland, as has anything else that brings pleasure. But here in the Highlands,” she said, brightening suddenly, 'that horrid John Knox cannot hear even a whisper of scandal about our adventures.”
”Or misadventures, knowing you,” Brice added with a smile.
”Hush. Now that I am once again gowned as your queen,” Mary said with a glance at the burgundy hunting outfit that had been restored to her,
”I command you to show a little respect. Further, I command you to learn the latest dances from Paris.”
”I am your obedient servant, Madame.” Brice bowed over her hand and escorted her to the center of the room.
From her position between Angus and Holden, Meredith was forced to watch as the queen and her friends taught Brice and the others the latest dances.
It was almost scandalous to see the way the women directed the men to hold them close while the music played. Their feet moved in perfect rhythm, their bodies swaying gently. One shocking new dance even ended with a kiss.
Meredith watched in stunned silence as the queen lifted her face to Brice. Their lips brushed. The men and women around them clapped their hands and called out encouragement.
Young Jamie MacDonald watched in stunned silence. Brice was actually kissing the queen.
”Ah,” Mary said, smiling.
”You have not lost your touch, Brice. You are still able to make my heart leap to my throat with a single touch.”
”And you, Madame,” he said with a smile, ”are still the most outrageous flirt, as well as the finest dancer in all of France or Scotland.”
”You flatter me.”
”Nay, Mary,” he said, offering his arm and leading her across the room.
”Your love of the dance is obvious. You move like a leaf in the wind.”
”The heart of a poet beats in the breast of this warrior,” the queen said to the others with a laugh.
”I believe it is my dance. Majesty.”
The queen turned into the arms of one of the men from her hunting party and together they twirled away. Over her partner's shoulder Mary called,
”Dance with your hostage, Brice. I think it only fair that you teach her the dances of Paris.”
Brice's smile remained in place until he turned away. At that moment Meredith saw the little frown of frustration that was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held out his hand and Meredith was forced to accept it.
”I do not dance, my lord.”
”Your queen has commanded it.”
He saw her bite her lip as she moved into his embrace.
As his arms encircled her the feeling was swift, immediate. It was not at all a pleasant sensation.
Against her temple he growled,