Ihre geliebte Braut

"I am Rebecca Montgomery. I am here to meet Mr. McPherson."
At my pronouncement, two men stepped forward. Both were fair-haired and of similar appearance for it to be obvious they were related, although one was slightly taller, slightly broader, slightly more intimidating and he set my heart aflutter. It could have been because he stared at me in such a way that had me thinking he could see all the way to my soul. While the look was intense, I felt as if his interest was solely on me. If a gun went off, I doubted he would blink.
"Which McPherson are ye seeking, lass?" This was from the shorter of the two men, his voice was deep and clear and amused. His question had me tearing my gaze away from the other.
I swallowed, for it seemed my husband was one of these two.
"Mr. Dashiell McPherson."
"What would ye be wantin' with him?" the brawny one asked. The sound of his thick Scottish brogue had goose flesh rising on my arms and I wasn't even cold.
I looked in his pale eyes, ignoring everyone else, and licked my lips as I tilted my chin up a notch. "He is my husband."
Both men's brows went up at my words, clearly surprised by the statement.
"And how have you become wed?" Mr. Kane asked from my side. He, too, was curious, as were the women who were whispering to each other. Besides a surprised look or two, the men were more reserved in their emotions. Had a woman come claiming to be a bride before?
"It was seen to by my brother, Cecil Montgomery."
"Ah yes, Montgomery. A verra good officer," the shorter Mr. McPherson replied, stepping back. "While ye are quite fetching, I have claimed a wife already." A lovely woman with dark hair came down the steps to join him. Clearly, she was his wife and making that known. He wrapped his arm about her waist and kissed her on the forehead, but he gave me a wink.
"That leaves me, lass." I turned to look at the man who made my heart beat quickly. "I am Dashiell McPherson." While the married McPherson was quite attractive, it was the one before me now who had my breath quickening, my palms sweating beneath my gloves and butterflies taking flight in my belly. His hair was a dark blonde, cut short on the sides and longer on the top where it fell over his forehead. His piercing ice blue eyes held mine, and I felt like a bug pinned to a tray. "Perhaps ye can explain yerself, for I most certainly would have remembered a wedding night with ye."