Bride Quest II
The Complete Trilogy
Claire Delacroix
Bride Quest II
The Complete Trilogy
Publishing History
The Countess
Copyright 2000, 2011 Claire Delacroix, Inc.
The Beauty
Copyright 2000, 2012 Claire Delacroix, Inc.
The Temptress
Copyright 2000, 2012 Claire Delacroix, Inc.
Bride Quest II
The Complete Trilogy
Published by Deborah A. Cooke 2012
Cover Art by Eithne O’Hanlon
Cover Design by Kim Killion
EBook Design by A Thirsty Mind Book Design
ISBN: 978-0-9879548-5-5
Digital Edition
Excerpt from The Beauty Bride
Copyright 2005, 2011 Claire Delacroix, Inc.
Without limiting the rights under copyright preserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher of this book.
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Dear Reader;
Every once in a while, I get to the end of a series and am not quite done with the idea. That was the case with the initial Bride Quest (The Princess, The Damsel and The Heiress). After the three brothers had each won their respective brides, I still loved the notion of a bride quest. I also liked the idea of a woman having a second chance at love, especially if she won that chance because she was trying to ensure the happiness of her daughters. Eglantine was a woman I admired from the outset, primarily because of her devotion to her children. Since she’d known Burke, the hero of The Damsel, it made sense that she might be inspired by Brianna’s bride quest to launch one of her own.
And so, my second Bride Quest trilogy was begun. This series is sometimes called the Scottish Bride Quest, but more often, it’s simply the Bride Quest II. You don’t have to read my first Bride Quest before reading this one, although you might enjoy the few references to those characters that occur in these pages. This series marked an exciting milestone for my writing career: The Beauty (which is included in this boxed set) was my first book to land on the New York Times’ List of Bestselling Books. What a thrill!
The original Bride Quest trilogy remains available in print and digital (and in a digital boxed set) from Bantam Dell. The books in the second Bride Quest trilogy are also available individually in both digital and print format, with their lovely new covers by Eithne O’Hanlon and Kim Killion.
After completing my two Bride Quest trilogies, I next wrote three medieval Gothic romances, with mysterious heroes and intrepid heroines. That trilogy is called the Rogues of Ravensmuir, and the first book is The Rogue. They’re a little bit darker in tone, but I had a wonderful time with the old castles and intrigue. I wasn’t quite ready to leave that family behind after the third book in the trilogy was completed, so I wrote a linked series called the Jewels of Kinfairlie afterward. The Jewels of Kinfairlie books are more similar in tone to the Bride Quest, which is why I’ve included an excerpt from the first one—The Beauty Bride—in the back of this boxed set.
I’ve recently returned to medieval Scotland to continue the stories of the family at Ravensmuir and Kinfairlie. My new series is called the True Love Brides and gives a little more space to the role of the Fae in the lives of the Kinfairlie family. The first book, The Renegade’s Heart, is now available in digital and print editions. The second book in that series, The Highlander’s Curse, will be published in April 2013. This time, I intend to ensure that all eight siblings in the family are happily married off!
Until next time, I hope that you are well and have plenty of good books to read.
All my best –
Claire
Bride Quest II
THE COUNTESS
THE BEAUTY
THE TEMPTRESS
The Countess
Book 1 in the Bride Quest II series
“Be mine for a year and a day and I will possess your heart forevermore!”
Driven from her late husband’s estate, Countess Eglantine de Crevy fled to wildest Scotland to claim a castle, only to find a ruin—and a clan chieftain standing guard. Kinbeath was hers, she declared, vowing to rebuild the manor and launch a bride quest so her daughters could marry for love. But Duncan MacLaren devised a bride quest of his own, swearing to win the land—and the fiery countess—in a war of sweet seduction...
Eglantine declared she would never be captured by this barbarian. Yet Duncan awakened passions she had never known before. She promised to fight him with every weapon at her command even as he vowed to woo her for a year and a day—and make her his pagan bride. Each thought Kinbeath the prize they most desired, a prize to be won at any price. Until passion turned to love, and the chieftain found himself fighting for the heart and hand of the woman he was born to possess.
Prologue
Manor Arnelaine
October 1176
Eglantine had been certain Theobald’s funeral would be the worst of it, but she was wrong.
When she first awoke to the grey slant of rain, she had feared that she would not provide the example expected by the villeins of this small manor or—worse—that she would fail to mask her own feelings before her children.
Eglantine had managed both, though only barely, and she lay the credit before her brother’s wife, Brigid. That sweet woman was so heavy with child, so sympathetic to Eglantine’s loss, so obviously missing Guillaume, that it had been easy to be strong in her presence.
To be strong was Eglantine’s gift, after all.
Eglantine’s mother arrived from the manor of Crevy-sur-Seine with Brigid, though nursing a cold. That woman’s illness seemed to prompt her to keep her usually shrewd observations to herself.
’Twas a blessing.
For the first time in her life, Eglantine was glad that her brother had been called to the royal court, for she could not have faced him this day. She knew well enough that Theobald had betrayed Guillaume’s trust, a trust Guillaume had bestowed to ensure his sole sister’s comfort. Eglantine chided herself silently, for she was glad to be spared Guillaume’s discovery of how poorly Arnelaine had fared beneath Theobald’s hand.
If only for the moment. The storm would undoubtedly come, but she was glad she would not have to face it this day.
’Twas not until all the mourners were departed that the true challenge assailed her. Louis, Arnelaine’s châtelain, stepped out of the shadows of the silent hall. Without a word, he summoned Eglantine, something in his manner making her heart stop, then race anew.
She understood in that moment that matters were even worse than she imagined. How badly had Theobald managed Arnelaine? Eglantine was not certain she wanted to know.
’Twas unlike her to be a coward, though, so she followed Louis to the chamber where the manor’s books were kept, acting as though naught was amiss.
’Twas strange to be ushered to the lord’s place at the tabl
e. She ran her hands across the smooth wood, painfully aware that she sat in the place of her spouse—in his chair, at his table, with his papers arrayed before her—while Louis reviewed matters he should have only discussed with a man.
’Twas then that Eglantine realized she would never hear Theobald de Mayneris roar for more wine again.
Her unexpected grief surprised her with its intensity. She blinked back tears, unwilling to admit that she would miss in any way the man who had so carelessly cast her heart aside.
Though she had once loved Theobald, his behavior had made it clear that he had not loved her. Wed once for duty and once for what she believed was love, Eglantine had learned that marriage held no promise for her. At least—at twenty-eight summers of age and twice widowed—she would not have to embark on that fool’s journey again.
Encouraged by such small mercies, Eglantine listened to the châtelain and realized she had missed much of what had been said. “I beg your pardon, Louis. I did not heed your inventory of the estate.”
The older man glanced up, his gaze sharp. His lips tightened slightly more than was his wont. “There is no inventory, my lady.”
Eglantine straightened at this odd news, knowing that Louis had always kept impeccable records. “How can that be?”
The châtelain looked discomfited. “Because the estate was not held by your spouse upon his demise.”
Eglantine frowned. “Louis, Theobald was invested with the estate at my brother’s behest. Has Guillaume retrieved the manor, as is his right, due to some disagreement?”
Louis shook his head. “Nay, Lord Guillaume has done naught.”
What had Theobald done?
“This is a poor jest, Louis.” Eglantine spoke firmly. “We both know that a vassal has no right to relieve himself of a holding held in trust for his overlord.”
“’Tis no jest, my lady.” Louis’ tone was equally firm. “There is no inventory because there are no books, and there are no books because there is no seal.”
“What nonsense is this?”
“The books of the manor are no longer in my possession.” Louis held Eglantine’s astonished gaze as his voice dropped. “My lord Theobald may not have had the right, but he had the seal of this manor in his hand. I regret to inform you, my lady, that he wagered it and he lost.”
Eglantine blinked, her composure slipping a fraction. “But that cannot be.”
“Nonetheless, ’tis.”
“But there must be an error, Louis. Theobald would not have been so foolish.” Even as the words crossed her lips, Eglantine knew very well he could have been.
’Twas why her heart hammered so.
Louis said naught more so Eglantine leaned forward to argue on her dead spouse’s behalf.
“Theobald would not have left Esmeraude with naught! Our daughter was his pride and joy, her future his sole concern!” ’Twas as though she would convince herself. “Esmeraude’s dowry must be bought and all our bellies must be filled. There is my dowry held in trust, which is mine alone! Theobald would not be so remiss in his responsibilities as this!”
The châtelain rubbed his chin as he surveyed her, the gleam of sympathy in his eye telling Eglantine more than she wanted to know. ’Twas clear Theobald would have done as much.
Because he had.
Eglantine dropped back into her chair and fought against her rising anger. She had not needed more proof that Theobald was irresponsible.
But she had it, nonetheless. Her fingers drummed in a rare expression of frustration, the regular rhythm the only sound in the chamber.
When Louis finally spoke, his words did little to reassure her. “He would not have been so rash when he was sober, certainly.”
’Twas true enough and not a welcome reminder.
Eglantine pushed away from the table, rising to stare blindly out the narrow window. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. The rain beat coldly against the stone, a trickle of it running into the chamber, the weather reflecting her glum mood.
The seal was gone.
Her brother Guillaume would have to pay the debts left by his vassal and brother by marriage, or lose this part of his holding. Eglantine knew that Guillaume would never suffer the loss of so much as a blade of grass of the family holding. Crevy-sur-Seine was his pride and joy, a close second only to his blushing bride.
Eglantine ached at the price her own folly would bring to her family. Why, oh why, had she been so smitten with Theobald? And why had she begged her brother to grant Theobald some small holding so that they might make a match?
Oh, she had cost her family dearly, there was no mistake of that. And for what? A man who drank and gambled and cost her all.
And left her penniless to raise his child.
Eglantine heaved a sigh and turned back to the patient châtelain who had served her family all his life. “All of it, Louis?”
The older man shook his head, no more happy with the truth than she. “Every denier, child, every last cursed denier.” For the first time in her recollection, Louis’ words were heated. “Do not imagine that I did not try to stop him.”
Eglantine summoned her composure, though ’twas more of a challenge than usual to act as expected. But she still was the daughter of Crevy, the lady of Arnelaine, the one to whom all would turn for answers, at least in the short term.
“I am certain that you did, Louis. Your loyalty to Crevy and my family is beyond expectation.”
The châtelain bowed slightly. “I thank you, my lady.”
“I shall ensure that Guillaume understands your efforts in this. ’Twas not your error and I shall do my best to see that you do not pay for Theobald’s folly.”
“Again, I thank you. You have always been most gracious.” Louis met her gaze steadily and his voice dropped lower, as though he feared he might step too far. “I would dare to suggest, my lady, that ’twas not your error either.”
Eglantine was not so certain of that. She took her seat again, choosing not to reprimand Louis for his familiarity. “But I shall bear the price of it, you may be certain.” She tried to appear assured and wondered whether Louis was fooled.
“If I may be so bold as to ask, my lady, what will you do?”
There was no point in artifice, Eglantine realized, for this man knew her circumstance even better than she. Eglantine trusted the older man, for he had served her family all of his life.
She let her mask of confidence slip. “I do not know, Louis. Esmeraude will need a dowry, and...” Her voice faded, for she could not even think of the betrothal of her elder daughter, Jacqueline, without becoming angry.
No coin meant no ability to fight that marriage contract with Reynaud de Charmonte.
Eglantine frowned at the desk, deliberately speaking of her step-daughter instead. “And I cannot turn away Alienor, even though she is not my own blood.” She would be hard-pressed to salvage this situation and she could not imagine where to begin.
Neither apparently could the châtelain, for he said naught.
Curse Theobald! At least matters could not be worse. Whatever she did could only improve the situation.
They two shared a moment’s silence, then Louis offered a piece of parchment with a slight clearing of his throat. “This missive came from Charmonte this morn. ’Tis addressed to you.”
“Charmonte?” Eglantine recoiled. “Already?”
“I am afraid so, my lady.” Louis grimaced slightly, his manner echoing Eglantine’s thoughts. “Sadly, the betrothal agreement for your daughter Jacqueline is not missing from the former Lord d’Arnelaine’s papers.”
“That would have been rather against my current run of fortune.”
They exchanged a quick wry smile as Eglantine reached across the desk. There was no point in avoiding the truth, though she distrusted that word came so quickly.
Reynaud de Charmonte was an old comrade of Robert de Leyrossire, Eglantine’s first spouse. On the birth of Eglantine and Robert’s daughter, a betrothal agreement wi
th Reynaud had been negotiated. The arrangement had been too painfully familiar to her own circumstance for Eglantine to find acceptable.
Robert, three decades older than Eglantine, had not been interested in her view.
Eglantine turned the missive in her hands, remembering all too well how miserable she had been in that match. She hated that she would be compelled to condemn her beloved daughter to the same unhappiness she had known.
But what choice did she have?
Eglantine now had no coin of her own.
Eglantine could not ask Guillaume to buy out the arrangement, especially not now that ’twas clear Theobald had served him so poorly.
Eglantine had no champion of her own with Theobald dead, not that he had been much of one while he still drew breath. Even her step-son by Robert had shown that he had no compassion for women. That, after all, was why Robert’s daughter Alienor had come to Eglantine, seeking shelter when her own blood cast her out.
Eglantine heaved a sigh and placed Reynaud’s missive on the desk, delaying the inevitable.
“Grant me some consolation, Louis. Tell me that the holder of Arnelaine’s seal is a compassionate man, one who will grant me the opportunity to set matters to rights.”
“The tale, my lady, is not mine to tell.” Sympathy gleamed in Louis’s eyes and he conjured another document from his ledger. ’Twas tucked into the end paper and written upon fine vellum. Eglantine’s heart skipped a beat when she spied her name scrawled across it in Theobald’s familiar hand.
“Your lord left you naught but a letter, my lady.” Louis handed it to her, then stood and bowed. “I hope it will explain matters more satisfactorily than I ever could.”
Naught but a letter, its seal unbroken. Eglantine was not certain she wanted to open it either. ’Twas no less than Theobald’s last words to her.
She did not trust him not to cast yet another shadow on her circumstance.
Ever-tactful Louis left her alone, closing the door behind himself. Eglantine crossed to the narrow window again, taking a deep breath of the cool breeze as she turned the letter in her hands.
The Bride Quest II Boxed Set Page 1