The Snow White Bride (3 page)

* * * * *

E
leanor was not a fickle woman,
but a single gli
mpse of Alexander Lammergeier utterly changed her thinking. She had erred when she had accepted the sisters’ offer. She merely spied the man in question and knew she could not wed him.

For the laird of Kinfairli
e was not what Eleanor had expected. She had assumed him to be a portly curmudgeon of an elder brother, perhaps one from an earlier marriage of the women’s father, a man vastly older and less eligible than his pretty sisters.

But Alexander possessed none of those traits. He was young, for one thing, a mere half-dozen years older than herself. He was also cursedly handsome, which Eleanor distrusted to her very marrow, and worse, he was clearly aware of his own merit. Like Kinfairlie itself, he presented an allure that must be only skin deep. No man could be handsome and kind and unwed; no holding could be fully peaceful. Both laird and estate were illusions and thus untrustworthy.

Indeed, Alexander’s peasants held him in such uncommon regard that Eleanor concluded that they feigned their affection. They must be fawning, out of fear of some caprice of his nature.

Further, there was no reason, from the look of him, that the laird of Kinfairlie would have any trouble finding a spouse for himself. What did his sisters know of him that Eleanor did not? She could imagine a thousand ugly liabilities.

Which particular weakness was his curse was not that important. She would break the wager, here and now, and to seal her decision, she would leave Kinfairlie. No one would pursue her when there was a banquet to be savored in a warm hall.

“I have made my choice,” she whispered to Madeline, who regarded her with optimism. “I will not wed your brother.”

Madeline’s smile disappeared. “But you cannot do so!”

“I most certainly can.” Eleanor rose to her feet.

“At least remain for the meal,” Vivienne protested.

“But you know nothing of him,” Madeline said, sounding so pragmatic that Eleanor might have been persuaded under other circumstances. “At least, meet him before you decide.”

Eleanor shook her head and seized her cloak. “It was a poor idea, though well-intentioned,” she said, forcing a polite smile for the sisters. “I appreciate your courtesy and wish you both well.” She pivoted then, and would have fled, but Alexander himself stood directly before her.

He did not look inclined to move. He was a formidable obstacle, tall and broad as he was, though it was his charming smile that made Eleanor reluctant to show herself rude. She felt flushed and flustered beneath his attention, as he must know. “Surely you cannot depart when we have yet to be introduced?”

Had his sisters notified him of their scheme? Was she the one to be cornered into marriage, instead of Alexander? Terror claimed Eleanor that she was sought yet again for the wealth she might bring a spouse.

“I apologize for my haste, but it is later than I had believed. I must leave immediately,” she said.

“Do you seek your spouse? We can send for him,” he said with a courtesy she did not trust.

“I have no spouse. I am widowed,” she said, and made to step past him.

But Alexander claimed Eleanor’s elbow. She flinched at his touch, though his grip was gentle, and he lifted his hand away immediately. “I apologize. It is not my intent to harm you,” he said, his words so contrite that another woman might have believed him.

But Eleanor had heard such apologies before, and she had been trapped by ambitious men before. Her thoughts
whirled. How could the sisters have known of her inheritance? She had not even told them her name. The news of a fortune to be won traveled on fleet feet, however, as Eleanor had learned.

Surely, even if Ewen’s kin had come this way while she slept in Kinfairlie’s ch
apel, they would never reveal th
e true reason they sought her? Her fortune could easily be claimed by any man with a prick and a barren left hand.

Eleanor did not know. She did not truly care. She felt hot and cornered beneath this man’s steady gaze, discomfited that he had noted her aversion to being touched. She wished to flee as far as she could.

“I thank you for your hospitality,” she said, hearing the fear in her own words. “But I must leave immediately.”

“Then I shall escort you to the stables,” Alexander said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“You cannot leave before the meal is served,” Vivienne said.

“No one should journey on Christmas Eve!” Madeline protested.

“The lady shall do as she desires,” Alexander said with resolve, and Eleanor was surprised to have him defend her decision. He winked at her most unexpectedly and her heart skipped. When had a man ever flirted with her?

“And I shall ensure that she has her choice,” Alexander said, his tone firm. He offered his elbow to Eleanor, who found herself shocked that any man would so cede to her.

She took his arm, though did not allow herself to become less wary, and Alexander led her from the hall. She did not feel more at ease, curiously, once they were alone in the corridor beyond the hall, once there was only shadows and the distant clatter of the feast being served.

For the laird himself accompanied her, of course, and his attention was fixed fully upon her.

“I have a boon to ask of you before you leave Kinfairlie
,
” Alexander said, sparing her a glance.

He had blue eyes, Eleanor noted, eyes filled with a thousand sparkles, as if his good humor could not be contained. His hair was as black as a raven’s wing, the black of his lashes making his eyes appear yet a more unholy blue. There were faint lines beside his eyes, as if he oft smiled, and he was tanned, as if he was oft outdoors. His manners were perfect, his grace unrivaled. She braced herself against his allure, reminding herself to trust no one. Who knew what lies a man might tell to ensnare her?

“I have little to grant and less inclination to surrender whatsoever I do possess,” she said, and glanced away.

Alexander chuckled, a beguiling sound if ever there was one. “I ask only for your name,” he said. “I am Alexander Lammergeier, Laird of Kinfairlie, and I bid you welcome to my hall, however short your visit might prove to be.”

“I was solely here on your sisters’ sufferance, but do thank you for your hospitality.” Eleanor said no more, though she felt him waiting, felt his gaze upon her, felt her color rising ever so slightly.

“Have you not a name?” he asked with some amusement.

“Why would you have need of it?” They took measured steps together, despite Eleanor’s attempt to hasten. “I intend to leave and never return.”

“Then perhaps I shall seek you out, like a knight upon a quest. It would be far simpler to succeed in that feat if I knew your name.”

Eleanor was certain that he jested at her expense and stole a glance at him. She found his eyes sparkling yet, but he watched her avidly, as if truly interested in her answer. She recalled the sum of her father’s fortune and reminded herself that many a man would find that worthy of fascination. “You have no good reason to seek me out,” she said primly.

“Ah, but I
do.”

He spoke with such conviction that Eleanor had to look his way again. The co
rn
er of his mouth was tugging into a smile.
He had a dimple beneath one corn
er of his mouth, and looked the very image of mischief.

He shook a finger at her. “You would have me think that you are not curious, but I can see that you are. Perhaps you do not wish to encourage me, knowing as you do that the ogre appointed as your guardian would savor the chance to devour me.”

“There is no such ogre!”

Alexander nodded sagely. “Perhaps you show your interest in me by fearing for my hide in undertaking such a quest It shows a kindness of nature that is yet more enticing than your beauty.”

“Perhaps I show no such concern.”

He laughed, undeterred, and Eleanor found herself tempted to smile. “But surely you are not devoid of curiosity,” he teased. “You do not even ask after the details of my quest, although it concerns you alone.”

“I suspect it is the same as most men’s quests, when they ride in pursuit of women,” Eleanor said. She dared to give him a stem glance. “A coupling, either willing or nay, and a son, either legitimate or nay.”

The sparkle left his eyes, though she felt no triumph
that she had insulted him. “You have a grim view of my fellows.”

“I have been taught to expect no more and no less than that.”

He considered her before he spoke. “How uncommon for a demoiselle. How unfortunate.”

“I am no maiden,” Eleanor retorted. “But a woman twice widowed.” She lifted her chin and regarded him steadily. “There are many who would consider me well-sampled for that. As for Fortune, she is a fickle companion.”

“I know that well enough,” he said so wryly that she dared to glance his way again. He smiled at her. “But surely the merit of a woman is not measured by her innocence?” He spoke with such soft conviction that Eleanor was tempted to believe he thought as much.

But men lied. Not a one of them was to be believed, especially one so certain of his own charm as this Alexander.

She said nothing, and they stepped through the last portal, into the bailey. Eleanor took a deep breath of bracingly cold air. The snow still fell, though not as thickly as it had the night before, and it was dark. Snow gleamed on the roofs of Kinfairlie village. The land seemed shrouded in silence, and though she listened with care, she heard no approaching hoofbeats.

“So you assume me to be of the ilk as those men you have known, though I am not. How might I persuade you otherwise?”

At his words, Eleanor realized that Alexander had been watching her. She wondered how much he had guessed of her thoughts and feared his intent anew. “You will not.”

He smiled then, a smile of such confidence that she
knew she had not deterred him. Indeed, she seemed to have done the opposite. “Then my quest shall prove interesting, indeed.”

“If you pursue me, you will not bed me.”

“That is not my intent.”

She could not contain her curiosity then. “I do not understand. What then is your quest?”

“
To see you smile, no more and no less.”

Eleanor stared at Alexander, so shocked was she. He smiled at her, his very expression beguiling her, tempting her, teasing her with the prospect of fulfilling his sisters’ scheme. He had firm lips and a steady gaze.

He would not be so fearsome to meet abed. Eleanor’s heart leapt in a most uncharacteristic manner.

She scoffed then, seeing the trick in his words. “Ah, but you would demand a tribute upon your success, to be sure.”

Alexander shook his head. “If you were inclined to grant one, I would accept it, but it is not my manner to force myself upon unwilling women.”

She had forgotten that she had been holding Alexander’s arm, but she became aware of it now, beneath his sure regard. His arm was warm and strong beneath her fingertips, and Eleanor thought she could feel the pulse of his blood beneath the flesh, even through the barrier of cloth. He was no ancient man, but one young and virile and intrigued by her. She looked at him, noted the mischievous curve of his lips, and knew that she would have surrendered her heart to Alexander Lammergeier a dozen years earlier without a murmur of protest.

But she was no innocent maiden any longer. She would have been happy to have never learned the lessons
she had learned, but that did not change how they had shaped her life.

Eleanor pulled her hand from the crook of Alexander’s elbow and stepped away, half-certain that he mocked her. “You are light of heart for a man so burdened with responsibility as a laird should be.” She folded her arms across her chest, feeling the cold now that she was two paces away from his heat. “Perhaps you are not laird at all.”

Alexander sobered then, his gaze flicking over the village before them. When he met her gaze again, though, his smile was less mischievous and his words came low. “Perhaps for this night, I have decided to forget my obligations.”

If his jesting manner was enticing, his thoughtfulness was more so. Eleanor had never been able to resist a man with his wits about him. She had to depart and do so immediately.

Eleanor forced a smile, though it was a sad one, then shrugged. “There is your quest fulfilled, Alexander Lammergeier, and now I will depart. You may disregard your obligations, but I will never forget mine.”

“Not even for one night?”

“Not even for one moment.” With that, Eleanor turned away from this intriguing man, gathered her cloak about herself, and began to walk away.

Kinfairlie was no sanctuary, not with a man such as Alexander as its laird, a man who could make her doubt even for a moment all she knew to be true.

She was best away from this false haven; the farther away and the sooner, the better.

2

A
lexander’s innate skills
had clearly withered in the past year. Indeed, his ability to beguile a woman had eroded to nothing at all. Never had he watched a woman turn her back upon him, never had he seen a woman dismiss his presence so readily.

But this lady strode resolutely away, choosing a night in the snow over him and the pleasures of his hall.

It was little consolation that she was the most intriguing woman that he had ever encountered. Not only was she lovely, but also her wits were quick, and she had already surprised him more than once.

He wanted to know more of her, not have her walk away and disappear forever.

Alexander shoved a hand through his hair. He might have seized her arm and forcibly halted her, but he recalled how she had cringed from his touch.

So, he was loathsome as well. His charm was lacking, to be sure.

“Have you no horse?” he called after her.

She did not turn, as if she thought the answer evident.

Nor did she slow her pace, much less halt. He might never have spoken.

Alexander cursed that he was apparently so forgettable, then strode after her. He swung his cloak from his own back and dropped it over her shoulders. She was finely wrought and even her luxuriant cloak could not be sufficient against this night’s cold.

She glanced up at this slight courtesy, the surprise in her expression telling him that she had not bed.

Twice wed and poorly served both times, he would wager. His determination to show her that all men did not fit her experience redoubled.

“You cannot walk away from Kinfairlie on Christmas Eve,” he said with false cheer. “As laird of this holding, I forbid it.”

“You were the one who chose to put your obligations aside. If you are not laird this night, then you cannot command my doings.”

Alexander smiled. “True enough. Then I argue on grounds of concern for your welfare. You will not find a hearth to welcome you on this night.”

“On Christmas Eve? You have a low opinion of the charity of your fellows!”

“They are all at my board, not home to answer your knock. It is but the truth of the situation.”

She bit her lip to consider that. Then a shadow touched her features, as if she recalled some matter of urgency, and she quickened her pace. “All the same, I dare not linger.”

“Am I
so fearsome as
that?” Alexander demanded. “I will ensure that
no man
plagues you in my hall.”

Her sidelong glance was wry. “What of you?”

“But I seek only a smile. It will cost you little to entertain my quest for a single night.”

She hesitated before she replied, then spoke with care. “Surely your lady wife will take exception to you seeking such a favor from another woman.”

“Surely not, as I have no lady wife.”

“Whyever not?” Her tone revealed that she was not surprised. “You possess a holding, thus can wed. You are of an age to marry and clearly possess some increment of charm.”

Alexander grinned at that, but when she did not share his delight, he shook his head. “The matter is not so simple as it might appear. I have three sisters yet to see married happily and much to learn yet about managing my estate. My uncle counseled that I wait to wed until I had ensured stability for Kinfairlie, though I fear that goal may not be readily won.”

He granted her a glance, fearful that he bored her, but caught her watching him, assessment in her eyes. “But why do I burden you with such details? My worries are not yours.” He shook a playful finger at her and she abruptly returned her attention to the snow. “You are of little aid in my scheme to forget my obligations this night.”

“Perhaps then you should let me depart.”

“Ah, but there will be insufficient time to seek you out before the burden of my responsibilities returns in the morning,” he argued genially. “Indeed, it would be best for both of us if you returned to my hall for one night, the better that I might succeed in my quest, and you might be warm and safe. Can you not be tempted to taste the wine from my cellars?”

“You must be affluent indeed to have wine in your cellars, no less to share it with your peasants.”

Alexander laughed. “I am as impoverished as ever a man could be,” he admitted. “But I have had family in Sicily and more family who traded in goods, and thus have the good fortune to have been given several casks of wine, which are yet in my cellar.” He granted her a quick wink. “It is better drunk than left to ruin.”

“And many a man is better drunk, though that might lead him to ruin,” she retorted, prompting his laughter again.

“Only a man quick to temper is better drunk than sober, for then he has not the ability to act upon his whims,” Alexander said. “Though I assure you that I am not in their number.”

“Is that the truth of it,” she said mildly, as if unpersuaded. Alexander did not know whether she was doubtful of his notion of drunken men or his own merit.

He shivered elaborately. “Though I am reluctant to end our conversation, truly, it is too cold to jest thus in the bailey. Surely we might proceed so far as an introduction by this point? What is your name, lady fair? You must have one, though you are reluctant to surrender it.”

“Eleanor,” she admitted, to his astonishment.

“Eleanor.” Alexander rolled the name across his tongue as he considered how to proceed. He marveled that she had surrendered her name, noted that she had not included an estate—though she was clearly noble—and wondered whether it was her name in truth. He had little to lose by teasing her, he reasoned. “Perhaps it is not truly your name.”

She looked so outraged at his suggestion that he knew
it must be her name, or at least a part of it. “What mockery is this?”

“Surely it is uncommon for a lady to grant so little of her name when most would surrender all of it? You admit to no title and no house. Perhaps you have another name.”

“Perhaps I am not noble.”

She was troubled by his perceptiveness, Alexander noted, so he made a jest. “Then whence came your gown?” he teased. “You did not find garb such as this abandoned in a gutter.”

She bit her lip, seemingly without a response.

Alexander touched the trailing end of her sleeve, rubbing the cloth between finger and thumb. He was tempted to touch her wrist, so close was her flesh, but dared not press her overmuch.

Indeed, she pulled her hand away from him, and put a step between them. Alexander did not comment, nor did he miss her response.

She liked her secrets, to be sure, but he tired of her low estimation of his nature. He decided to press her slightly.

“Such finely woven cloth can only be from the Lowlands,” he mused, “so rich a hue could only have been dyed in France. And the embroidery is lavish indeed. This is not a gown from one of my sisters, for I should recall the cost well enough. And the cloak
…
” He whistled through his teeth. “Ermine would beggar a king in these days.” He met her gaze again. “No common woman could buy such garb, thus you must be noble. I would wager that your husbands were not petty lords, either.”

She caught her breath and quickened her step. “I might be a thief,” she said.

Alexander grinned and easily matched his pace to
hers. “From whom would you steal? You would have to have traveled far with your ill-gotten gains to have found yourself in my hall.”

She lifted her chin and he saw her lips set stubbornly. “Perhaps I am a rich man’s consort.”

Alexander pretended to consider this, then shook his head. “Bereft of your benefactor, but so afraid of a man’s caress as you are?” he said softly. “I think not.”

She turned upon him with flashing eyes. “I am not afraid!”

Alexander shrugged, though truly he was beguiled by her response. “A courtesan would seek another patron, and I am the best proposition in this vicinity.” He spread his hands and smiled at her. “I invite you, Eleanor, to seduce me.”

But she did not share his merriment. “Oh! You are so certain of yourself, even knowing so few details as you do,” she fumed. She faced him, hands on her hips, eyes flashing like the sea in sunlight. “Perhaps my pa
tron is possessive. Perhaps I bu
t wisely ensure that I am a faithful consort.” A challenge lit her eyes. “Perhaps I hasten to meet my lover.”

“Where?” Alexander glanced pointedly back at his hall. “In my experience, rich men do not hide themselves so well that they pass unnoticed, even as guests.”

“Nor do they welcome their mistresses at the board when their family gathers for a religious feast.”

“Nor do they fail to provide a mount for any soul they hold in regard. Why do you avoid my stables? You cannot mean to abandon the horse provided by your patron?”

She pursed her
li
ps and folded her arms more tigh
tl
y about herself. “You are a persistent foe,” she said through gritted teeth.

Alexander laughed. “True enough. Think of how vexing it would be to have me in pursuit of you.” She made a sound of annoyance and he clucked his tongue as if pitying her that ordeal. She met his gaze, appearing sufficiently amused that he was encouraged. “I am cold and I would make you a wager, fair Eleanor.”

“One that will cost me dear, from the look of you.”

He laughed again. “Not so dear as that. Grant me one night to win your smile.”

“Between the sheets?”

“In the hall, at the table, in the company of others.”

“In some places, those conditions would not preclude an attempt to be between a woman’s thighs.”

Alexander grinned. “They do in my abode. I would try to win your smile this night with words and gallantry, no more than that.” He put his hand over his heart. “I grant you my word of honor.”

She arched a brow. “Though I know not its worth.”

Irked, he leaned closer and lowered his voice, sober as he had not yet been. “Had I desired a rape, it could have been done by now, with nary a witness of the deed.”

Eleanor took a step back and he cursed himself for making her cautious once again. “Many a man feigns honor to win a lady’s trust.”

Alexander shrugged. “There is but one way you might know my merit in truth.” He offered his hand.

She stared at his upturned palm, then squared her shoulders and met his gaze steadily. Her chin lifted, as if she would challenge him—and truly, she did. She looked as regal as a queen and as indomitable as a warrior and Alexander was utterly charmed. “I daresay your price would be higher than a mere smile if you succeed.”

“I desire no more than to see you smile,” he insisted. “If I win, that sight will be reward enough. Your wealthy man has not granted you much in truth, if he has not made you merry.”

Eleanor did not comment upon that. “You will not touch me.”

“I would offer you aid in walking so that you do not slip,” he said with some annoyance. “Whether you take my arm or not is your choice, as is that of a hot meal, a cup of wine, and a warm pallet this night.”

Eleanor took a quick breath, then put her hand in his. Her hand was small and cold, and Alexander’s urge to gather her close was nigh overwhelming. He restrained himself, though, and merely tucked her hand into his elbow. He turned immediately back toward the keep, concern for her welfare lending speed to his steps. “Be warned, fair Eleanor, that I do not intend to fail.”

“You put more stake upon this than a smile would merit.”

He placed his hand over his heart, knowing she would think he made a jest, but there was truth in his words. “I stake all upon it. If I cannot coax your smile this night, then I have lost far more than I have gained this past year.” He winked at her, noting her surprise at his manner. “And truly, if you chose to surrender more than a smile to me in my triumph, I would not protest overmuch.”

She snorted, though a reluctant twinkle lit her eye. “No woman could be as charmed with you as you are with yourself.”

“Let us see if we can amend that situation,” he said with newfound resolve, and he was nigh certain that she fought against her answering smile.