The Maiden Bride by Rexanne Becnel

deserted her family during the attack. That Linnea has ever been a curse upon this family and has abandoned us. They must believe that you are Beatrix.” She fixed Linnea with her stony stare. “He may not hear of the second sister, but happens that he does, we must all of us adhere to the same tale. Linnea has ever been wild and uncontrollable. None among us is surprised that she has gone off on her own.”
    Linnea tried to be as hard and callous as her grandmother, as thick-skinned and insensitive. But in the face of such cruelty she could not remain firm. Must she paint her own self as disloyal to her family? A coward who would run from duty? A woman who would abandon her family at the first sign of trouble?
    Aching inside, she sought her father’s support. But when she met his gaze it was to find him already staring at her, a wrinkle of bewilderment on his weary face.
    “You are Linnea?” he asked disbelievingly. “I can hardly credit it—”
    “Don’t be a fool, Edgar!” Lady Harriet cowed him with her vicious tone, and even the several servants across the hall looked up in alarm. “Don’t be a fool,” she repeated more quietly. “Speak not that name out loud. Never. She is Beatrix now, until such time as we decide to expose our deception. Beatrix, I say.”
    He nodded and wiped a hand across his brow. Again the thought occurred to Linnea that he looked even older than his mother, and much less able to cope with the abrupt change in their circumstances.
    But she was given no time to contemplate her father’s quick decline, for her grandmother pinched her arm, demanding her complete attention.
    “How fares Maynard?”
    Linnea sighed. “Much the same. Once I have eaten I will return to him. Do you think there is any hope that he will allow Maynard to be brought into the keep?”
    Lady Harriet’s fingers drummed restlessly on the tabletop. There was no need explaining to her which he Linnea referred to. “Mayhap … mayhap if he is well pleased with you this evening, he would grant that favor to you.”
    “Well pleased?” Linnea asked, unaccountably remembering that quick, appraising look he’d sent her this morning. “How am I to please him tonight?”
    Lady Harriet gave her a shrewd look. “He will wed you this very evening. He reasons that there is no cause for delay. Methinks he finds you comely in that garb of Beatrix. So if you behave with him as a loving and dutiful wife would—”
    “Loving! Dutiful!”
    Once more the several people in the hall glanced over at them. But Linnea did not care. It was bad enough to marry the man and suffer the groping that surely must follow. But to appear to relish it—for that was clearly her grandmother’s implication. To appear to relish it was simply too much to ask!
    She rose from the bench—or tried to. But Lady Harriet grabbed her trailing sleeve and jerked her back down.
    “You said unto me that you would save your sister,” the old woman hissed, her faded eyes slitted with fiery emotion. “You said you would save your family. But I ken what truly you wish, wretched girl. You wish only to prove me wrong. You wish to prove your miserable existence of some worth. Well, this is your chance. This is the only chance you ever will have. Do it, and do it well. Else, tell me now that you be unequal to the task—and that I have been right about you these seventeen years and more!”
    She let go of Linnea’s arm as if it disgusted her to even touch so loathsome a creature. But though Linnea was free to run away from the bitter old woman and her hateful words, she found that she could not do so.
    That was her goal: to prove her grandmother wrong. To prove them all wrong, but especially her grandmother. If she were as pure of heart as Beatrix, she would only care about saving her loved ones. But she was selfish and she’d let herself become caught up in the glory she might gain for herself.
    She bowed her head, ashamed of herself. She must do this for her