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E xactly forty minutes after discovering the king’s visit was imminent, Justine stood in her room before her full-length mirror in a gown of pale blue silk. She stood silent and immobile as Josephine and two maids fussed over her, flittering around like frightened chickens.

Josephine was not even out of her leather and mail as she strung a belt of gold around her sister’s hips, with the center of each square implanted with a large sapphire, ruby, or emerald.

Justine’s brown hair was brushed until it gleamed, then a gold diadem inlaid with small sapphires were rested gently on her head.

Josephine stood back a moment, inspecting her handiwork. Justine looked beautiful. She turned one of the maids.

“Go down and see if the priest has arrived,” she said quickly, and the girl bolted for the door. “And make sure Sir Sully is in the hall!”

When the girl was gone, Josephine turned to her sister and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Now,” she said quietly. “Before you enter into this marriage, there is something I must tell you. I want you and Sully to be happy. I know you love him and, someday, I am sure that he will come to love you.”

Justine’s eyes threatened to pop from their sockets. “Wherever did you get such a… a ridiculous idea that I love Sully?”

Josephine smiled knowingly. “You forget who you speak with, my dear little sister,” she said.

“I know how you feel about him. I have for some time. Why do you think I suggested you marry him? In the years to come, he will be much happier with someone who loves him, who worships him. It would be better for you both.”

Justine opened her mouth to protest yet again, but she thought better of it when she saw the look on her sister’s face. There was no use in denying it. And she thought she’d been so cool in her admiration for the man. She was coming to feel like a fool.

“Have I been that obvious?” she said, embarrassed.

Josephine chuckled softly. “Not at all,” she said. “I began to realize your feelings for him when you took on a glassy stare every time he came near you. You pretended that you did not care, but your expression said otherwise. I do not blame you, you know. Sully is a fine example of a man.”

But he is only in love with you, Justine wanted to say. But she didn’t. For once, she kept her mouth shut because there was no point in starting an argument about it. Perhaps, Josephine already knew how Sully felt about her; perhaps not. In any case, Justine saw no reason to point it out.

“He does not wish to marry me,” she said after a moment.

Josephine took her sister’s arm, giving her a squeeze. “I think, at this point, no one wants to marry anyone,” she said. “This plan has come about so quickly that no one has had time to become accustomed to it. But do not fret; give it time. I am sure Sully will come to appreciate you.”

Justine wasn’t so sure. She’d been worrying about that very thing but, now, it was too late to give her concerns any validation. She had to marry the man regardless.

“Mayhap,” she said quietly.

Josephine could see her sister’s apprehension. She understood her fears, for she was facing some of those fears herself. But she put forth a brave face.

“Do not be afraid,” she said. “I will stand with you.”

Justine shook her head. “I am not afraid,” she said. “But you were correct when you said this was all happening very quickly. I can hardly believe it.”

Josephine smiled. “It will be wonderful for you. I am certain of it.”

Justine wasn’t so certain; she simply shrugged. “I suppose we shall find out.”

“Aye, we shall,” Josephine said, giving her sister’s arm another squeeze. “Come along, Justine Afton Louisa de Carron, and let us attend your wedding.”

Justine didn’t resist as her sister pulled her towards the door of the chamber. Josephine turned to the maid still in the room, who was starting to clean up the mess they’d left in their wake.

“Cassia,” Josephine said. “Please escort my sister to the great hall. I must quickly change clothes and will join you as soon as I can.”

The woman dropped what was in her hands and preceded Justine and Josephine through the chamber door. The sisters started to part as they reached the top of the stairs, but Justine came to a halt.

“What of Andrew, Josephine?” she asked. “Will you still marry him, too?”

Josephine paused at her door. “Aye,” she said. “I do not know when, but I will.”

Justine shook her head in disbelief; disbelief at the whole situation. Her sister’s defiance of the king, her own marriage to Sully, and she had great fear and uncertainty where the future was concerned.

“Do you… like him?” Justine asked with genuine concern.

“I do.”

“Do you… could you… love him someday?”

Josephine looked at her sister as she thought on that question.

Love ? It had crossed her mind, but she had always dismissed love as a silly child’s fantasy.

The very fact that her parents had been madly in love was a fluke.

And then her mother died, and her father had never been the same.

Having never experienced love for herself, Josephine drew forth from the only experience she had ever known, and deduced love was a very self-destructive emotion.

Love?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to risk it.

“Nay,” she whispered finally. “I admire him and respect him, and I am sure he will make a fine husband, but I will never love him.”

With that, she went into her chambers and closed the door softly.

That act left Justine standing there at the top of the stairs, thinking that her sister was in for a sad life if she couldn’t bring herself to feel more than admiration for her husband because Justine knew for a fact that she would always love hers.

In a sense, that gave her more hope and joy than her sister would ever know.

As Justine and the little maid headed down to the great hall, Josephine went about removing the leather and mail she wore.

She also forced herself to put aside her sister’s question.

Could you love him ? There was too much to do and she didn’t want to be distracted by the seed that was now planted in her brain.

Ola emerged from her alcove as Josephine went to her wardrobe and began roughly pulling through the garments on pegs.

“I need to wash, quickly,” she said to Ola, who went scurrying. “And put plenty of rose oil in the water!”

Within minutes, she was stripped to the skin and Ola was quickly washing her with cold water and rose oil.

After a hasty drying, Josephine slipped into the most lavish dress she had, a rich purple silk with a plunging neckline and a full skirt.

Gold and silver thread decorated the long sleeves and hem, and there were semi-precious stones sewn into the neck.

It was a lovely, striking dress that required no adornment. Quickly, Ola brushed her mistress’ hair furiously and braided it because that was all that time would allow. With a pinch to her cheeks for some color, Josephine fled the chamber.

She took the stairs quickly and walked forward into the great hall, pulling her sleeves straight as she walked and straightening her skirts.

She felt as if she were only half-put together, but it would have to do.

Head down, she was fussing with a portion of the bodice that didn’t seem to want to smooth out.

Entering the hall, she lifted her head into a room that was full of light.

It was nearly midnight but the hall was ablaze with dozens of torches.

Fresh rushes on the floor scented the room; it smelled like a forest. The knights that had remained behind when she rode out earlier that evening stood on either side of the room in their best armor.

As she walked further into the room, she saw that they had even combed their hair.

Donald was there, too, with his dark-rimmed eyes and swollen nose.

She forced a smile at him as she entered the room but she made no attempt to speak with him, not yet.

She had business with the soon-to-be married couple.

Justine and Sully stood at the end of the hall in front of the roaring hearth. Justine actually appeared properly demure while Sully simply looked pale. He looked as if, given a chance, he might actually bolt, and she stifled the urge grin at the man.

“Hasn’t the priest from St. John’s arrived yet?” she asked as she approached them.

“Nay, my lady,” Sully said softly. “Not yet.”

He sounded so very serious. Josephine did a double-take on him.

He, too, was dressed in his best armor, his squire having polished it until it was mirror-perfect.

His face and hair had been washed. He looked like a little boy whose mother had forced him to take a bath in honor of grandmother’s visit.

Clean and shiny, he looked very handsome and, at this point, she couldn’t help but smile at the man.

“Do not look so frightened,” she said. “You are marrying my sister, not the devil in disguise.”

He forced a smile. “I am not frightened of her,” he insisted. “But I think the thought of marriage frightens all men. It reminds them of the responsibilities of this world.”

Josephine understood. Reaching out, she took Sully by the hand then turned to her sister, extending a hand to the woman as well. Justine joined their group, taking her sister’s hand and holding it tightly. Josephine beamed at her.

“There is something I must tell you both,” she said. “I wanted to tell you together.”

Justine looked at her curiously. “What is it?”

Josephine took a deep breath. “As you know, plans have changed quickly because of the king’s imminent approach,” she said.

“That is why you two are marrying so quickly, so that Justine will be safe. But even so, that leaves the problem of me, still unmarried and still quite eligible to any of the king’s whims. Therefore, I have come up with a way to make my situation far less attractive to Alexander. Torridon, above all, must be safe.”