Chattan Bride by Maria York

Author:Maria York [York, Maria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Isabel been preparing for her sister’s arrival and instructed her staff to address her appropriately whether she wore the black wig as Isabel or, if she was without it, as Gillian. To simplify matters, she had prepared a closet full of only white dresses. When Gillian arrived, she would be addressed as Mathilda, her maternal cousin who sought the assistance of Annie during her pregnancy. For three weeks Isabel instituted the charade in anticipation of Gillian’s arrival. The staff was abuzz with the arrival of cousin Mathilda. It was a warm day for the first week of April and after Isabel’s battle practice at dawn, she put her wig in her pouch and wandered to the meadow along the border to make sure that the secret entrance was accessible and that she would have a torch to light her way once she was inside and that she would have a tree stump in place at the bottom of the entrance to lower Gillian safely.

Andrew approached her quickly. “A message from Alnwick. Lady Gillian will arrive shortly.”

Isabel nodded and turned to see the border sentinel signal the approach of a friend. “Henry didn’t give us much warning,” she commented. “It’s a good thing I am prepared for ‘Mathilda’s’ arrival.” She and Andrew marched up the hillside to the tree line.

“It sounds as if forty men accompany her.”

“I’m glad Henry values her so,” she commented and looked up nearly running right into Rampage. She caught her breath and took a step back.

“Lady Gillian!” she heard the captive young Gabriel, the stable master’s son, call out, well-trained in his loyalties, as Isabel had allowed her blond locks to flow.

Alysandir dismounted and stood before her. She couldn’t find her tongue. His strong legs were like trees that braced apart in front of her. His chest was bronze and heavens, had he always been so beautiful to look upon? His muscled arms crossed at his chest and Isabel could barely make eye contact, so surprised she was to see her husband before her. She bowed her head and tried to find words and managed only to curtsey.

For his part, Alysandir thought he had come upon an angel. Aye, she looked familiar, but her skin was glowing and only God or the fairies could have formed the shape of her body. He dismounted and stood in front of her, hearing his prisoner call her Lady Gillian. She had always been beautiful, and had clearly grown into an exquisite woman. She looked rather like his wife, but then they were sisters after all. Her confusion and hesitance were further evidence that this was indeed the more beautiful but more befuddled of the two.

“Gillian,” Alysandir said in an attempt to have the woman lift her gaze to meet his eyes.

Isabel heard his voice and thought perhaps, in her confused and shocked state, her husband had either caught sight of Gillian approaching as the message from Henry stated or that he had actually brought Gillian to her and was calling her forward.

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