Darian Maxwell paced the great hall of Cranbrook castle like some kind of caged animal, a dark impatient look was etched like stone upon his face. The servant that brought he and his knights ale, had nervously and quickly served the drinks and then made a hasty exit, uncomfortable around such a foreboding man.

To those who weren’t intimately acquainted with this great hulk of a man, Just the sight of him could strike apprehension and fear. His hair was nearly black and fell to his shoulders. Dark eyebrows arched over cold gray eyes that were thickly trimmed by equally dark eyelashes. A straight nose and a square jaw were clear evidences of his noble heritage. Were his face not always drawn in such hard grim lines, he could easily be an extremely handsome man. Not that he didn’t have his share of women as his beck and call. No, there were a lot of woman, high and low born that found his mean countenance exciting and weren’t shy about letting it be known.

But there had been no woman that had been able to touch his heart——not since his first wife, Isabella.

Isabella. His first love. His beloved wife. And for a time, his whole life. Then.....his betrayer. The grim lines deepened as the thought of her ripped through his chest like a ever persistent knife. She was dead now. Dead from her own foolish actions.

And his heart had died right along with her.

Sir Tilden, his chief knight of the guard, studied his lord’s features silently from his place by the hearth. He could almost guess at the thoughts that were racing through Earl Greytone’s mind. He decided that whether it was his place or not, he must speak up.

"My lord, you will indeed scare your young bride to death if you continue to look thus."

Darian stopped his pacing just long enough to send his knight a quelling look, which Sir Tilden pointedly ignored. "I do not recall asking for your opinion of my appearance, Tilden," he growled in a low menacing tone.

Tilden lifted a blond brow and returned Darian’s glare, unwavering. "No, you did not. But, my old friend, you are sorely in need of someone’s opinion." He lifted his goblet to summons a servant to refill it then continued. "And even though you have been, how shall I put it...,requested by his highness to wed the girl, she is assuredly one of England’s most sought after maidens. Its said her beauty outshines that of the most beautiful rose. I promise King Richard did it as a favor and not as a cruel gesture, as you seem to think!"

Sighing Darian stalked over to the hearth that Tilden stood by and gazed down into the blazing fire as he crossed his great arms across his wide chest. "I know that Richard meant well and I have no doubt that this girl will not be hideous to look upon. But you forget, sir knight, that I care not for a wife, nay for any woman to share my life with me, except it be in my bed. Yet I desire a son. And for that I must marry," he shrugged as if none of it mattered.

"Not all women are like Isabella, my lord." Tilden spoke quietly.

"I will not discuss Isabella!" he growled as he turned from the hearth and resumed his pacing.

"But surely you cannot deny that the lady deserves a chance...."

Suddenly Darian was before him and had grasped the front of his tunic pulling him so that they were standing nearly nose to nose. With rage in his dark gray eyes he grated, "I said I do not want to discuss it. But just for the record let me say this once and only once. When Isabella betrayed me, she destroyed what love I could give a woman. Killed it. There is nothing, no one, that can give life to it again. No one, do you hear?" And just as suddenly as he had grabbed the knight, he quickly let go, leaving Tilden to stumble back a few paces and bump against the stone wall.

Tilden fought to bring his fury under control. It would accomplish nothing to strike back at the earl, except maybe to assure him of a few sore bruises! And knowing Darian as he had for so many years, he understood. Understood the reason why he was hard and callous. Understood that behind that unyielding mask he wore, there was a man who had deep scars.

Darian and he had grown up together as lads. His father had been a knight of the old earl and he had taught both of them the skills and codes of knighthood. Darian had worked harder than both of them in his quest to become a knight. Not because he greatly desired the honor, but because he wanted so desperately to gain his fathers recognition and approval. But because he was the youngest son, he received neither. Just cold indifference.

The earl was only concerned with his eldest son. Aron, his heir. And so it went as such for years. Darian was sent to the Earl of Castlebrook at the ten as a page, then at the tender age of fourteen had acquired the honor few that age could boast of and that was a squire. And just as quickly he rose to the rank of knight. It was then he had fallen hopeless in love with the earl’s niece, Isabella and had married her.

Soon he was the most heralded knight in King Henry II’s army. He fought bravely and proudly for the old king when situations arose. But came home to his manor at Sedgwick, lands he had inherited from his mother, often, not wanting to stray from his beloved’s side to long. Only to be betrayed by her and one of his own knights, when he had returned home early.

Not long after that, Richard took the throne and three months later, Darian was off the holy lands to fight the Saracens at what was the beginning of the third crusade. Tilden had joined him and could have sworn that many times whilst Darian fought, he cared naught whether he lived or he died.

It was two years and later, only three months ago that Darian received word from Greystone that his father and brother had been killed during an attack on their land, therefore the title of Earl of Greystone fell to Darian. The king ordered him home to see about his lands and people and then ‘suggested’ he marry to secure his title, and produce an heir. But he had not ended it there. Before Darian departed with his men to journey back to England. Richard had remembered meeting the Lady Christiana of Cranbrook and found her beautiful and amusing. He immediately drew up the papers declaring one Darian, Earl of Greystone would be joined in holy matrimony to one, Christiana, Lady of Cranbrook to take place immediately after the young earl, of only seven and twenty years, had returned and settled in at Greystone.

Tilden. as one of his guard, returned with him. And as he watched his friend continue to brood about on this glorious morning at Cranbrook, he could not help but offer up a prayer to God that the Lady Christiana would somehow do the impossible and reach his stone cold heart.

***********

A few minutes later, the Lord of Cranbrook bounded through the double door into the great hall, he’s searching eyes quickly landed on the man who was to be son—in—law. It brought him no comfort to see the dark, giant of a man in person, for in truth he was as everyone had told him he’d be. Big, tall, and frightening...and a countenance as hard as rock. He could well imaged all the fantastic tales told of this knight were undoubtedly true.

And he was sending his only daughter straight into his clutches. That thought brought a shiver to ripple down his spine. He wished to God that he had the power to stop this wedding, but, alas, the king’s word was law. And even though Richard had been away for nearly the entirety of his reign, he still would not tolerate being crossed.

With great dignity he threw back his shoulders and walked up to the young earl. "Ah Lord Maxwell! You seemed to have caught us off guard by your early arrival, so I must humbly apologize for not being prepared to greet you properly!" William’s booming voice seemed to bounce off the castles stone walls as he clasped hands with his future son—in—law.

"‘Tis I who should apologize. Lord William, but I have been sent orders from King Richard. He has asked me to check on a matter concerning his brother, Prince John. I am to leave on the morrow at first light. Therefore I beg your forgiveness in having to request that the ceremony be performed as soon as possible. Lady Christiana and I will leave for Greystone directly afterward." He spoke it pleasantly enough, but his face was devoid of emotion as if he speaking of a business arrangement instead of a marriage.

"Good God, Greystone! You can’t mean to marry my daughter and just drop her off at that castle of yours where she knows no one!" Lord William roared indignantly.

Those gray eyes were as cold as his voice when he spoke, "It cannot be helped, my lord. Greystone will now be Christiana’s home. She will be well taken care of in my absence."

Lord William reasoned, "If you are pressed for time, why not just leave Christiana here ‘til your return from London. There is no reason why she can’t delay her trip to Greystone for naught but a few days."

Darian eyed William, a small cynical smile curling his lip. "No reason, except that my wife will dwell in my home. She has much to see to. Its better that she familiarize herself with the workings of Greystone as soon as possible."

He turned away from William and picked his ale up from a small table. "I requested that the wedding be a small affair. Therefore I see no reason why, hastening the ceremony by a few hours will make any difference."

Inwardly William sighed with resignation. Of course, it would make no difference. But, by all that’s holy, this cold unfeeling man standing before him, was taken from him the only joy that he had in this life. His Christiana. He would defiantly make a point of visiting his castle frequently. And by God he better treat her right.....

He nodded to a servant and sent the message that the wedding would be taking place immediately.

***************

As a model, Kristy was used to being stripped down and thrust in clothes by other people. In fashion shows, time was of the essence and she’d often go on the runway wondering if she had everything in its right place. And this morning had felt no different. When they’d gotten the message, that the wedding would take place this morning, Nan and the girls had went to work right away on making her into a proper bride.

They had gotten her into the gown made of white silk that Nan had called a tunic then over that went another garment called a blunt made of the most beautiful shade of peach she’d ever laid eyes on. They then fasten a large jeweled golden belt around her slim waist. Nan ushered her to a chair and began brushing her hair out.

"My lady!" Nan gasped. "Have you cut your hair?"

Kristy gritted her teeth together. "No I did not cut my hair. Andre, cut it last Saturday at his saloon. I’ve tried to tell you for the hundredth time that I am NOT Christiana. I’m Kristy.."

"Aye, we know the story, milady." said in a tired, overtired voice as she continued her brushing.

Nan placed a silk head covering atop her hair and over that was set a circlet of fine gold set with sapphires. Fran stepped forward and draped a mantle of deep blue about her shoulders. It was made of velvet and trimmed with a white fur. At her shoulder they placed a broach, once again set with sapphires.

Kristy had her head bent admiring the dress when she heard a quick intake of breath. She anxiously looked up to and was taken back at their faces. It was awe, pure unconcealed, awe.

"My lady....you are absolutely beautiful!" Fran reverently whispered.

"Aye, the earl will be well pleased when he sees you, Lady Christiana." Nan agreed nodding slowly. She then turned to Penny and instructed, "Go down and tell Lord William that his daughter is ready."

Kristy decided for one last plea for help. "Please. Nan. You have to help me escape. I can’t marry this Darian—man." She grabbed the servants arm and begged like her life depended on it. "Nan.. .Please. As God as my witness, I am not Christiana," she cried, and was please to see a hesitation in Nan’s face.

She looked with pity at her mistress and spoke softly, "Sweet goodness, you are really scared to marry the earl aren’t you. I’ve never see you take your acting this far…" She shook her head wondering whether she should risk the wrath of the master or not. She had heard frightening stories of Darian of Greystone as a knight. She knew her lady had heard them, also. She was positive she did not want that man hurting her mistress.

"I’ll help you," she said with more bravery than she felt. After checking down the hall, she hurriedly motioned towards Kristy for her to follow. They darted down the long dark hallway that was lighted only by the candles that were placed on the walls. She was then led down a narrow stair well that Kristy assumed was for the servant’s use. It smelt damp and musty and she could barely see where the next step was. Suddenly her path was flooded by a burst of light. It was sunlight. Nan was standing by an opened door leading to the castle grounds.

"Go to the stables, to you right, milady. The young lad, Landis, is minding the horses, this morn. As you know, he’ll do for you anything you ask. I suppose you have a mind to ride to your uncles manor over yon hill?" Kristy nodded, though clueless as to what she was talking about. "Pleased, by careful, milady. There be bandits out near the Black Forest. Now hurry along!"

Kristy ran as best she could in such confining clothing. She spotted the stables and picked up her skirts to make the rest of the distance. She bounded through the huge doorway and nearly collided with a boy that looked about sixteen years old.

"Landis?" she asked breathlessly hoping that she was correct. The boy, however, stood there a second, wide-eyed and mouth dropped open, gapping at her legs. She followed his gaze to where she had her dress pulled up around her knees and couldn’t fathom at what was wrong with him.

"Landis! Listen to me!" she demanded.

The boy seemed to snap from his awe struck trance and mumbled, "Milady?"

"A horse, Landis. I need a horse!"

"Of..of course, milady." He ran to the third stall and brought from it a beautiful auburn mare. As he handed over the reigns, Landis asked her curiously, "Is it not your wedding day, Milady?"

She let out an impatient breath and replied as calmly as she could, "Of course, this is my wedding day. I just feel the need for a ride this morning, all right?" She placed a hand on the boy’s smooth cheek and gave him the smile that made her famous as a model.

Landis resorted back to the awe-struck, dreamy look, he’d worn earlier. "Yes, Milady," he whispered, his breath completely taken from him.

She pulled on the reigns and led the horse outside.

"Milady, wait! I have not saddled her…" his voice drifted off in total disbelief as he saw the lady hike up her skirts past her knees and throw her pale legs over the horses bare back and take off like lightening.

"She’s WHAT?" Lord William roared loudly at the plump ladies maid who stood there before him, shaking in her slippers.

"La...Lady Christiana....milord, has run..away..." Nan stammered, wishing she had not been so hasty in helping her ladyship with this escapade.

"What does she mean, Cranbrook?" Darian’s deep voice bellowed from across the hall. In just a few long strides he, too, was towering over the poor servant. She was sure any moment she would faint and part of her prayed she would.

William sent a glance over to the earl and almost cringed at the ominous look that was set in his face. "I’m afraid, my lord earl, that my daughter was less than happy at his majesty’s arrangement of her marriage to you. She has taken it upon herself to run away," he explained, his voice hard, almost accusing.

Darian narrowed his eyes as he studied the baron. And said equally as hard, "Then she will have to found, won’t she." Then with a voice of command he ordered, "Tilden, Vachel, we shall begin our search."

The three of them strode out of the castle. By the looks on their frightening faces one would think they were riding out to do battle instead of searching for a mere girl.

But a battle was exactly what Darian knew he had on his hands. He thought by the way Richard talked he was to be given a soft, docile wife but instead it appeared he had instead been given an impulsive child.

But he would not put up with such childish antics. Indeed, he would see this girl tamed and demand obedience.