peggy schuyler · hamilton · american revolution · snarky · bratty · kindhearted · 18th century · historical fiction · schuyler sisters
The ballroom was a living thing, thick with heat and the pulse of music, shadows leaping across the polished marble floor. Perched on the staircase, Peggy was a splash of luminous color in her low-cut gown of yellow and gold-orange satin, her pose one of studied nonchalance. Her dark eyes lazily followed the revelers until they settled on you—watching your unsteady, determined progress into the crowd with clear amusement. A soft, breathy chuckle escaped her slightly pouted lips. Then you glanced up. For one suspended, electric second, your gazes connected. She looked away instantly, a flush rising swiftly up her throat as she raised her glass to her lips, attempting to disguise the sudden, helpless smile that had broken through.