Another Man's Bride by Ariel MacArran

Author:Ariel MacArran [MacArran, Ariel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Here Be Dragons
Published: 2014-03-01T14:00:00+00:00

The MacLaulach’s sister, Bredach, was as lovely a girl as Isabella had ever seen. Her beauty would have been the toast of any court and Isabella imagined King Henry would have been fairly undone in her presence.

Certainly Colyne MacKimzie was.

By Colyne’s order everyone assembled to welcome the MacLaulach—and his sister—to Castle MacKimzie. Isabella’s heart hammered as Colyne stood blinking and plainly tongue-tied by his betrothed’s beauty when the MacLaulach presented her.

Bredach dimpled up at Colyne as he stumbled over his words of welcome then took her slender white hand in his as carefully as if it were made of Murano glass.

No doubt the girl had experienced this reaction from men before.

Bredach was a true redhead, with the delicate porcelain skin unique to that coloring and a pretty pink mouth. Unbound in the Scot’s style, her hair, brilliant against her ivory skin, flowed down her back and to her hips, and it alone would have marked her out as a rare beauty. She was also possessed of a slender form, tiny waist, graceful white hands, and a face that could send a man to distraction.

Beside Bredach’s resplendent beauty, Isabella was as plain as a wren.

She was younger than Isabella as well, no more than seventeen, and likely having known only the loving protection of her clan, a sweet-faced maid.

So pleased were the clans to have made peace they were eager now to make friends for the New Year. Celebrations were planned, with feasting and mummers, the castle made ready to host as many of both clans as could fit within the walls or on the grounds. The hall was decorated and even the lowest member of the household was in exuberant spirits.

Caitrina and Ihone would handfast that night to add extra joy to the Hogmanay celebration with their betrothal. On Twelfth Night, the very the height of the festivities—that night having been chosen by various fortunetelling methods and the exhaustive reading of signs to be the most auspicious—Caitrina and Ihone would make their marriage vows.

Isabella’s throat closed as she watched Colyne smiling down at the woman soon to be his wife. She had scarce spoken to him since the moment he clasped the MacLaulach’s arm. In the days that followed their return to Castle MacKimzie, Isabella lingered where she thought he might pass, hoping for some word, some hope. She sought to catch his eye whenever they met but even if she could muster the courage to lay her heart bare there was no opportunity. Kat or William were always at hand, or one of the clansmen, or Caitrina.

Only once had there been a moment between them. Just before their walk Kat discovered she was missing her glove and Isabella waited below stairs while she went in search of it.

Colyne came around the corner just then. The corridor was empty save for them and Isabella saw he realized it too.

Alone and unobserved for the first time in days, she drank in the sight of him. His face was still clean-shaven, his cheeks flushed, and it was plain he was just in from the cold.

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