Note: This is the first chapter of a book in progress. Please leave me comments letting me know what you think, and if you’d be interested in reading a first draft once it’s completed. Thanks! ~Alice
‘There’s a fiddle player in the square tonight, Brighde, my love! Why don’t we go down and dance a jig or two?’ Lachlann knelt in front of his wife’s chair by the fire, his hand going to her swollen belly automatically. She sat with a blanket over her lap and a shawl around her shoulders, despite the balmy summer air floating through the windows. Her hair, usually the color of fire and full around her face, hung damp and dull behind her. Her skin, which had been rosy and bright with her pregnancy, was waxen and pale. Lachlann was worried.
She sighed and gave a feeble attempt at a smile. Even the sparkle in…
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