The Temptress

Chapter 2

More cherished than gold are the Jewels of Kinfairlie, and only the worthiest may fight for their love…The Laird of Kinfairlie has unmarried sisters, each a gem in her own right. And he has no choice but to see them all wed in haste.

More cherished than gold are the Jewels of Kinfairlie, and only the worthiest may fight for their love…The Laird of Kinfairlie has unmarried sisters, each a gem in her own right. And he has no choice but to see them all wed in haste.Lady Madeline’s heart is not for sale…especially not to a notorious outlaw like Rhys FitzHenry. Yet Madeline’s hand has been sold, to none other than this battle-weary warrior with a price on his head. A more dutiful maiden might cede to the Laird’s command and meekly accept her fate, but Madeline has never been obedient. She decides to run away, though she never dreams that Rhys will pursue her.

She does not expect this taciturn man to woo her with fanciful stories, much less that each of his enthralling tales will reveal a scar upon his shielded soul. She never imagines that a man like Rhys could imperil her own heart while revealing so little of his own feelings. When Rhys’ past threatens his future, Madeline takes a leap of faith. She dares to believe him innocent—and risks her own life to pursue a passion more priceless than the rarest gem.

Excerpt from The Beauty Bride

The Beauty Bride© 2005, 2011 Claire Delacroix, Inc.

Madeline thought she might scream in her impatience to be gone. It seemed to take the assembly half the night to tire of Tynan’s wine and ale. Madeline contrived to hide every sign of her desire to flee.

Rhys did not speak to her directly again, but the heat of his thigh was close to her own and she could fairly hear him listening to her breath. Though he glanced across the hall, apparently unconcerned with her, Madeline knew that she held his complete attention.

It was more than disconcerting.

Worse, since his tale of the water fairy, Elizabeth and Vivienne appeared to be charmed by Rhys. Isabella, who always favored a celebration over quieter moments, anticipated the wedding with glee. Even Annelise, who was slow to take a liking to strangers, looked upon Rhys with favor since he had insisted that Alexander not auction more of the sisters.

Only Madeline seemed to have eyes left in her head, or wits between her ears. She would flee, she would flee so far that they would never hear tell of her again.

“Are you well, Madeline?” Vivienne asked for what must have been the seventh time. “You are so quiet this night.”

Knowing full well that Rhys listened to their conversation, Madeline wished her sister could have let the matter be. “I am always so demure,” she said with a sweetness that should have warned her sister.

Instead, Vivienne laughed. “You? I should think not!”

Madeline gritted her teeth and kicked her sister beneath the table. Vivienne kicked her back, hard enough to leave a bruise upon her shin.

“How amusing you are, Vivienne,” Madeline said firmly. “We all know that I am the quiet one of the family.”

Vivienne, blissfully oblivious to the message Madeline was trying to send, giggled so hard that she could barely speak. “You? You talk more than all of us put together! Remember how our old nursemaid used to say as much?”

“I have forgotten the chatter of that madwoman,” Madeline said firmly.

“How could you? She was the one who said that you had boldness enough for all eight of us and to spare!”

Elizabeth hooted. “Remember when she tried to gag you to make you silent for a morning?”

Madeline felt her color rise at Rhys’ sidelong glance. “I do not recall.”

“How could you forget? Truly, Madeline, you are not yourself this night.” To Madeline’s disgust, her sister tapped Rhys upon the arm as if they were old comrades. “She must be simply astonished, sir.”

“This night’s circumstance is certainly an uncommon one,” Rhys acknowledged.

Vivienne smiled. “Oh, but I assure you that my sister is always more vivacious than this. She is practical, but also outspoken. You can rely upon Madeline, sir, to tell you her thoughts but also to be of aid.”

“Vivienne!”

Rhys sipped of his ale and Madeline could have sworn that he smiled. “There is nothing akin to the teasing of a sister,” he said so softly that Vivienne could not hear him.

Madeline was surprised to find his tone of rueful affection such a perfect echo of her thoughts. “You must have sisters yourself.”

A shadow touched his face and Madeline found herself intrigued. “Four I had, once,” he admitted and looked away.

“How can you not have such sisters any longer?”

Rhys stared across the hall for a long moment, as if he had not heard her. “They are all dead, my lady.”

Madeline was shocked. He said nothing more, but his grim countenance was enough to tear at her heart. “I am sorry.”

“As am I.” He brushed his fingertips across her hand and Madeline felt a warmth in her belly, though whether it was due to his gentle touch or his confession, she could not say. She felt a flush stain her cheeks and dropped her gaze to hide her awareness of him.

Then she wondered whether his confession was truth, or a falsehood intended to soften her resistance to him.

Vivienne was suddenly attentive again, as if sensing that she had missed something.

“Perhaps I am slightly more quiet than usual,” Madeline said, “because I have never experienced the eve of my own wedding afore.”

Vivienne sobered at that. “Oh, but you must not fret about the morrow, Madeline. You will be the most beauteous bride that Ravensmuir has ever seen, I know it well, even if Uncle Tynan does not see fit to surrender more pearls for the hem of your kirtle. The blue samite suits you so well. Rosamunde speaks rightly when she says all will be perfect.”

Madeline bit her tongue lest she comment that the appearance of her wedding day was not uppermost in her concerns. It was her intent, after all, to let Rhys believe her amenable to this folly.

“Then I am reassured,” she said stiffly. She took a sip of her ale lest she say more.

“You, the quiet one,” Vivienne murmured, then shook her head. “I should tell Alexander of that jest.”

“Perhaps it is concern with wedding a stranger that has stolen the lady’s tongue,” Rhys suggested.

Madeline felt her color rise that her fear had been so clearly identified, no less that it had been so named by the one who should have known her least of all.

“No less a stranger of such dark repute,” Rhys amended and Madeline knew she flushed crimson.

Vivienne’s eyes widened. “Is there truly a price upon your head?” she asked with an admiration that was certainly undeserved.

Rhys only nodded.

“Of course, you are unjustly condemned,” Vivienne said with conviction. “And the king will pardon you and beg your forgiveness and it will be as romantic as an old tale. Rosamunde knows you, after all!”

That Rosamunde knew all manners of scoundrels and rogues made this endorsement less compelling than Madeline would have preferred.

Vivienne chattered on, much enamored of the tale she wove. “Perhaps Madeline will even have to ride to the king’s court to beg his clemency.”

Elizabeth shivered in delight. “Would that not be a marvel?”

Rhys seemed to be fighting that smile again.

“It might be folly.” Madeline could not keep silent any longer.

Vivienne frowned. “How so?”

“Perhaps the king has named the crime rightly.”

“Perhaps he has,” Rhys agreed so easily that the matter could not particularly concern him.

“Then it would scarcely be sensible to not feel some trepidation in wedding such a man,” Madeline said more sharply than she had intended, then struggled to compose herself. “Might we discuss some other matter? The rain, perhaps?”

“It rains, as always it does in spring,” Vivienne said dismissively, then leaned toward Rhys again. “Are you guilty of treason, sir?”

“Vivienne!”

“Surely you desire to know the truth of it?” Vivienne asked with the scorn that one sister reserves solely for another. “You are to wed the man, after all.”

Madeline bit her tongue so that she did not insult her spouse. She felt him watching her and feigned a fascination with her napkin. His gaze was so intent that she feared he had guessed her plan to flee.

“Perhaps the lady is unconvinced that I will surrender the truth,” Rhys said with care. “To tell a falsehood would be a much lesser crime than treason, after all.”

Vivienne looked much impressed by this reasoning, though Madeline fought to hide her surprise. How could this stranger guess her thoughts so readily, when her entire family seemed unable to comprehend her?

“A traitor in our very ranks,” Vivienne said, again showing unnecessary awe. “But why was the charge made against you? Do you mean to unseat the king? Will you be captured in the night and dragged to the gallows?”

Rhys’ eyes narrowed slightly. “You need not fear for your sister’s safety in my company. As for the accusations against me, I have found that a dangerous repute keeps wolves from one’s door.”

“How reassuring,” Madeline said, and took a quaff of ale. Vivienne turned to answer some query from Alexander and Madeline bristled beneath the full weight of Rhys’ attention.

“Are you fearful?” Rhys asked so quietly that none could hear him save Madeline herself. She was irked that he should be the one to show her compassion and found anger claiming her tongue, despite her intent to be demure.

“What of it? A man who buys a bride at auction cannot be concerned with that lady’s fears.” She turned to glare at him and was surprised to catch his smile. She stared, for the expression transformed him, making him look younger and more handsome.

“Finally, the lady deigns to speak her thoughts,” he mused, that smile lighting the darkness of his eyes. He lifted his cup as if in tribute to her. He sipped of his wine, his gaze unswerving from her own.

Madeline stared at him, for she had always been rebuked for speaking her thoughts clearly. “And what is that to mean?”

Rhys, though, did not appear to mind. “That I would have expected to be singed by the fire of your anger afore this.”

Madeline forced herself to recall that she meant to win his trust. She summoned a smile with an effort.

“There, you disguise your thoughts again,” he said softly.

Madeline straightened. “Perhaps I am more pleased at the prospect of finally being wedded than fearful.”

“To a traitor? Your family must be a deceitful lot indeed.” Rhys’ smile still curved his lips and took the sting from his words. Madeline had the sense that he provoked her, and she was provoked, but newly determined to hide her thoughts.

“Oh a man’s repute is not the same as his truth,” she said so sweetly that her teeth fairly ached. “Doubtless your deeds have been misunderstood or misrepresented by your foes.”

Rhys leaned on the board, bending toward her so that he was dangerously close. Madeline could smell his very flesh, but worse, she could see the twinkle in his eyes. “You grant me much credit, my lady, considering that I have done little to earn such devotion.”

Madeline touched his hand, more fleetingly than she had intended. “You have bought a bride, sir, and there is nothing I can do but be happy about that fact.”

He claimed her hand when she would have pulled it away and she quivered at the heat of his flesh pressed against her own. “Is there not?” he asked softly, so softly that Madeline guessed that he knew she lied.

She smiled with gritted teeth, fairly writhing beneath his steady perusal. “I am certain we shall be happy indeed.”

“As am I,” he murmured. “Though I had no expectation that our thoughts would be as one so very soon. Let us celebrate our agreement with vigor, then.”

There was a dangerous glint in his eye that warned Madeline. Before she could respond, he had caught her nape in his hand with gentle resolve and his mouth had closed determinedly over hers once again. The company hooted with delight and began to pound their cups upon the board.

Madeline had the sense that Rhys tried to provoke her again, to prod her into showing some response to him. She was tempted to push him away, to slap him before the entire company in retaliation for his boldness.

He deserved no less and doubtless he knew it. Even Vivienne gasped in awe beside them.

Madeline just barely recalled her plan to allay his suspicions. She sighed, as if well content, and let her hands land upon his shoulders. It was not so difficult to do.

Rhys needed no more encouragement than that. He deepened his kiss, pulling her closer with the ease of one more accustomed to sharing such bold embraces than she. He was gentle, though, for all the surprise of his amorous assault.

And then it was too late to retreat. This kiss was different from his first salute. It was no less thrilling, and awakened no less heat in her belly. But this kiss was possessive and demanding. It called for her, not to surrender, but to join him in the pursuit of pleasure. Her very blood quickened and her lips parted. She heard herself gasp as his tongue darted between her lips, teasing and tasting her.

And she wanted more.

The Beauty Bride

The Beauty Bride#1 of the Jewels of Kinfairlie series

#1 of the Jewels of Kinfairlie seriesNow available in print, digital and audio editions.