The Laird of Kinfairlie has helped his sisters, each a gem in her own right, to find husbands. Now the laird himself seeks to wed, and pins his hopes on The Snow White Bride.
Lady Eleanor knows better than to dream of romance and love. Married twice to secure her father’s alliances, she has learned that she is desirable only for her fortune. When the Laird of Kinfairlie’s sisters ask her to wed their brother, Alexander, Eleanor agrees, expecting only to save herself from danger.
But Alexander is like no man she’s known before, a man more interested in courting her smile than her obedience, a man who values her counsel as much as her newly awakened passion…and a man unaware that Eleanor is the key to a fortune that could ensure the future of everything he holds dear.
Now, ruthless enemies will stop at nothing to secure Eleanor’s capture. Will she dare to trust her new husband before it’s too late for her, for Alexander, and for Kinfairlie?
“Delacroix provides an excellent end to a terrifically captivating series.”—Booklist
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Historical / ScottishThe Snow White Bride was a USA Today bestselling title on its initial publication and has been #1 in the Kindle store in its new edition.
The snow was falling fast and thick, the starless sky was darker than indigo, and it was well past midnight when Eleanor knew she could flee no farther. The small village that rose before her seemed heaven-sent—it was devoid of tall walls and barred gates. She did not believe that it truly could be this peaceful anywhere in Christendom, but the town’s tranquility was seductive all the same.
She did not know its name and she did not care. She spied the church and decided immediately that this sleeping town, with its quiet surety that the world was good, would be the place she chose to rest.
The night would not last much longer, for darkness already gave way to dawn’s light. Eleanor did not know where she would go from here, but knew she could make no decision when she was so exhausted.
The church portal was unlocked, and Eleanor sighed with relief as one last fear was proven groundless. She stepped into its embracing shadows and let the door close heavily behind her. She waited, half-expecting the illusion of tranquility to be shattered, but only silence reached her ears. She stood on the threshold and inhaled deeply of the scent of beeswax candles, the air of prayer and devotion, the aura of a holy place.
Sanctuary.
There was a single small glass pane over the altar, and the light cast by the snow illuminated it and the chapel’s bare interior. It was a humble church, to be sure, for she could see its emptiness even in the shadows. The altar was devoid of chalice and monstrance, evidence that even this community believed treasures should be locked away.
Eleanor spied the bench near the altar, perhaps one used by the priest, and eased herself onto it. She sat down and stopped running for the first time in what seemed an eternity.
Then she listened, fearing the worst.
There was no sound at all beyond the pounding of her heart.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
German
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Italian
|
Already translated.
Translated by Adele Contenti
|
|
Portuguese
|
Already translated.
Translated by Maria Regina de Almeida Barbuto and Wélida Cristina de Souza Muniz
|
|
Spanish
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
