Authors: Claire Delacroix

The Frost Maiden's Kiss (47 page)

He sipped his wine, and Elizabeth recognized that he let expectation build. “The maiden slept in the chamber for several nights and when she was asked what she had seen, she only smiled. She insisted that she had seen naught, but her smile…her smile hinted at a thousand mysteries.” Alexander shrugged. “And then there was no opportunity to ask her, for on the morning after she had slept in that chamber for three nights, the damsel could not be found.”

Mairi shivered with delight. “I love this part,” she said to no one in particular.

Alexander spared her a glance before he continued. “I do not have to tell you that they searched every nook and cranny for the maiden. Though they fair tore Kinfairlie apart, there was no sign of her. In fact, she was never seen again.”

“But…” Mairi prompted, bouncing in anticipation.

“But—” Alexander acknowledged with a smile and a raised finger “—on the sill of one window—I suspect I know which one it was—on the morning of the maiden’s disappearance, the castellan’s wife found a single rose. It appeared to be red, as red as blood, but as soon as she lifted it in her hands, it began to pale. By the time she carried it to the hall, the rose was white, and no sooner had the castellan seen it, than it began to melt. It was wrought of ice, and in a matter of moments, it was no more than a puddle of water upon the floor.”

Alexander rose from his seat and strode to the middle of the hall. Mairi and Astrid squirmed from their seats and followed him. Alexander pointed to a spot on the floor. It shimmered beneath his finger, as if stained by some substance that none could have named.

“It was here that the water fell,” Alexander said softly. “And when an old woman working in the kitchens spied the mark and heard the tale of the rose, she cried out in dismay. It seems that there is an old tale of Fae lovers claiming mortal brides, that the portal between their world and ours is at Kinfairlie. A Fae suitor can peer through the portal, though they all know they should not, and he could fall in love with a mortal maiden he glimpses there.”

Elizabeth kept her gaze locked on her hands, even as a shiver rose on her spine. She knew too much of Finvarra, the king of the Fae, to ever hear these tales without a reaction. Still she wondered what price she would have to pay to him for daring to speak in the Fae circle and then being permitted to leave.

She had thought she would not be allowed to depart, but had been willing to make the sacrifice for Malcolm. Now, she feared that Finvarra merely toyed with her.

But to what end?

Alexander smiled at the two girls. “And the bride price a smitten Fae suitor leaves when he claims that bride for his own is a single red, red rose, a rose that is not truly a rose, but a Fae rose wrought of ice.” He scuffed the floor with his toe. “Though its form does not endure, the mark of its magic is never truly lost.”

There was a moment of silence at the end of the tale, then the company broke into applause.

“We must see the chamber!” Mairi insisted, her eyes alight.

“I dare not allow any maiden to visit it,” Alexander said solemnly. “It is my responsibility as laird to keep you safe.”

“But we must see it, we must!” Astrid said, adding her entreaty.

“I will take them,” Elizabeth said, slipping from her place at the table. She took the girls by the hand and they nigh tugged her from the hall in their enthusiasm. The company clapped and the musicians struck a tune. When she glanced back, she saw Alexander offering Eleanor his hand that she might join him in the dance.

She also saw Rafael slip from the brightness of the hall and into the shadows behind her. Her breath caught for she knew he followed them, and she knew naught what he desired of her.

Nay, Elizabeth would not pretend. She knew full well what Rafael wished of her. She had seen the fire in his gaze when he looked upon her. She only wished she had not been so curious about it.

Did she dare a single kiss? Such a dangerous choice would encourage him, to be sure, but it might also sate her curiosity.

Unless, of course, one kiss from Rafael did not nearly suffice. Elizabeth knew she was foolish to wish to know for certain, and yet, in the security of her brother’s hall, she had difficulty believing that any ill could truly befall her.

That would prove to be her mistake.

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The Warrior’s Prize

by Claire Delacroix

Book #4 in The True Love Brides series.

Coming in December 2014!

About the Author

Deborah Cooke sold her first book in 1992, a medieval romance called
The Romance of the Rose
published under her pseudonym Claire Delacroix. Since then, she has published over fifty novels in a wide variety of sub-genres, including historical romance, contemporary romance, paranormal romance, fantasy romance, time-travel romance, women’s fiction, paranormal young adult and fantasy with romantic elements. She has published under the names Claire Delacroix, Claire Cross and Deborah Cooke.
The Beauty
, part of her successful Bride Quest series of historical romances, was her first title to land on the
New York Times
List of Bestselling Books. Her books routinely appear on other bestseller lists and have won numerous awards. In 2009, she was the writer-in-residence at the Toronto Public Library, the first time the library has hosted a residency focused on the romance genre. In 2012, she was honored to receive the Romance Writers of America’s Mentor of the Year Award.

Currently, she writes the Dragonfire series of paranormal romances featuring dragon shape shifter heroes under the name Deborah Cooke. She also is writing the True Love Brides series of medieval romances as Claire Delacroix, which continues the story of the family introduced in her popular title
The Beauty Bride
. Deborah lives in Canada with her husband and family, as well as far too many unfinished knitting projects.

Connect Online!

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Books by Deborah Cooke

Paranormal Romances

- The Dragonfire Series -

Kiss of Fire

Kiss of Fury

Kiss of Fate