The Rebel Bride - Romances 01 by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-25T23:50:38+00:00

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They arrived in Geneva late in the afternoon three days later. Kate found she simply couldn't restrain her appreciation when Lake Geneva came into view. Though it was early September, the mountains surrounding the lake were snowcapped, and the setting sun cast a fairyland glow on the water.

"Oh goodness, how lovely it is."

"Yes, it is rather beautiful. I'm delighted you've changed your opinion."

She drew back into the chaise and fastened her eyes on the cushions. "Well, perhaps it is passable."

She couldn't prevent her eyes from going to his face, and she saw his brows rise in ironic amusement.

She flushed, mortified at her own churlishness, and wanted to cosh him at the same time for making her so very much aware of it.

Soon, though, she became absorbed with the endless rows of quaint shops that lined the cobblestone streets, each sporting colorful signs and displays. The Swiss themselves, no less colorfully arrayed than their shop fronts, bustled out onto the walkways, apparently hurrying to their homes for the evening.

The Coeur de Lyon was a two-storied, gabled brick building of some antiquity, which stood back from Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

the street, nearly hidden from view by giant elm trees. The courtyard surged with activity, and no sooner did their chaise pull to a halt than two stable lads appeared to grab the reins.

She allowed Julien to assist her from the chaise and was thankful that she had done so, for her legs were weak from their long-cramped position. She looked up to see a very rotund, quite bald little man emerge from the auberge to greet them.

"My lord March. What a long time it has been. A pleasure to see you again, my lord, a pleasure indeed."

He bowed, all gracious compliance and deference.

"Good evening, Perchon. Your establishment prospers, I see. This is my wife, and it is her first visit to your beautiful country."

Monsieur Perchon beamed, bowed, and turned to give instructions in rapid French to two of his henchmen.

"Now, my lord, my lady, if you will please to follow me. Your accommodations, I assure you, are quite in order."

She was somewhat surprised that Monsieur Perchon spoke English so well. She was soon to discover that he spoke French, German, and Italian with equal ease.

A slender, brown-eyed maid, who reminded Kate of a small, timid doe, was assigned to see to her comfort, and as she prepared to follow the maid up the winding wooden stairs to her chamber, Julien called to her, "Put on a warm cloak, Kate, and we'll explore before dinner."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she had no such warm cloak, when Julien, apparently guessing her objection, added smoothly, "You'll find such a cloak in your large trunk, my dear. It is, I believe, of blue velvet and lined with ermine."

Ha, he'd bought it for her. She'd see him in hell before she'd wear any of the clothes he'd bought her.

"The pelisse I'm wearing will be perfectly adequate, thank you, sir.

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