The Beauty Bride by Claire Delacroix

Author:Claire Delacroix
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780987839909
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke
Published: 2012-01-14T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

There were voices at Moffat’s gate.

Rhys ducked into an alley in the nick of time, his purchases held fast against his chest. He listened and was startled to hear the sound of a woman’s voice.

No less, a familiar woman’s voice.

“I seek a young woman,” that woman said, her tone authoritative. “She has dark hair and blue eyes, and is fair indeed to look upon. She might travel with a man garbed as a mercenary.”

Rhys stifled the urge to peek with difficulty, for he could not believe his own ears. Rosamunde led the party in pursuit of Madeline?

Rhys frowned at this conclusion, unable to understand why this might be. It had been Rosamunde who had ensured that he could join the auction. What had changed her thinking? What had happened at Ravensmuir after their departure?

“I have seen no such woman,” the gatekeeper said gruffly.

“And the man?”

Rhys caught his breath and flattened himself into the shadow of the wall.

The gatekeeper scoffed. “Who can say? Men come and men go - I do not note them, particularly the mercenaries. If they mean no harm and intend to be gone by sunset, they are welcome to leave coin in our coffers.”

“You cannot be so poor of sight and memory as this!” Rosamunde said.

“I cannot be expected to confess all I know to a stranger!” the gatekeeper retorted. “Especially one so oddly garbed and bold a wench as you.”

“Let us pass!” Rosamunde said imperiously. “We will make our own search.”

“You will surrender your weapons here, for I do not trust you to be peaceful within these walls.”

Rosamunde argued with the gatekeeper but made no progress. Rhys listened as she surrendered her weapons in poor humor, then commanded her company to do the same.

Those six black destriers strode past his hiding place, their tails flicking and their nostrils flaring. Madeline’s brother Alexander was within the company. The heir to Kinfairlie looked more a man already, not only because of his armor but because of his somber expression. Beside him rode two of Madeline’s sisters, the next eldest who had plagued him with questions at Ravensmuir’s board and the youngest, so smitten with fairies.

Two other men comprised the rest of the party, one of whom Rhys had noted at Ravensmuir. He was as flamboyantly garbed as Rosamunde and must have been her comrade. The last man was a stranger. He might have been the same age as Alexander and Rhys studied him with curiosity. He carried a lute slung across his back, and was wrought slender with pale skin and fair hair.

Something pricked at Rhys’ memory, though he could not name it in this moment. To be sure, he could not fathom why Rosamunde would bring a musician with her, unless she meant to keep him in her company. Perhaps this one was uncommonly gifted.

Much to Rhys’ annoyance, Rosamunde left the musician to guard the gates while she led the others toward the town square.

“We will find hay and water for the horses,” she instructed. “Then ale and a hot meal for ourselves.

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