wish upon a star

Wish Upon A Star
Written by Kim Comeaux



Prologue

"Kristy, are you still there?" asked a worried, female voice, through the phone line.
Kristy Kendrick pulled herself from her reclined position on her soft cushiony sofa and shifted the cordless phone from one ear to the other. "I'm sorry, Sis. What did you say?"
"I asked if you were going to be alright. I know how much you liked Cory…" That was an understatement! She was crazy, madly in love the jerk. "Will you please come over? Eric is already in bed and so is the baby. We could sit up and talk -- all night if you want."
Kristy sighed into the phone and shook her head as she answered, "Danni, I know you just want to help, but honestly, I just want to be by myself, tonight."
"So you can feel sorry for yourself."
"I'm not feeling…"
"You are."
She relented. "Okay, so I'm feeling sorry for myself. But don't I deserve to? I was planning on marrying him, Danni. He told me he loved me. How could I know that when I opened the paper this morning, that I'd find that my 'boyfriend' wasn't on the "Grease" musical tour that I thought he was on! Instead he took that two-bit…that…that hussy to Vegas and married her!"
Her ever-sensible sister prodded, "Are you sure you didn't suspect he was cheating on you?"
"No!" she defended, just a little too quickly.
"Were you paying attention?"
Kristy was silent for a moment. No, she really hadn't been paying attention. It was just that she'd been so busy lately. First, there was the fashion show in Paris, then the photo shoot in L.A. As one of the reigning top models in New York, she rarely had time for herself. Had she unintentionally driven Cory into someone else's arms?
"I guess I wasn't paying attention," came her hollow reply. That realization brought a fresh load of tears to her eyes.
"You're crying again," Danni said with a sigh. "He isn't worth your tears, Kris."
"I knew you were going to say that."
"It's the truth. And if you'd just stop a minute and think about it you'd know it was true. Kristy, the man is a social climber. Oh, with you he at least got his name in the Times gossip column, and a picture or two in the tabloids. But, face it, sister, New York's most celebrated deb, Debra St. Martin, puts him right along side the city's cream of society! Not to mention, that she happens to be the richest girl in town! He used you, plain and simple until something better came along." She was being brutally blunt, but then that was Danni. She never saw the need to sugar coat the truth. But that didn't mean she lacked heart. "Let me tell you this, though, Kristy. You deserve much better. And I can promise you 'better' is right out there waiting to be found. It may be today, it may be next year. But he's there!"
As usual, her sister's wisdom lent to her broken heart a thread of comfort and strength. But she still hurt. And a few wise words weren't going to make it all instantly better. She just needed time…
"I know you're right, Sis. I just a little time. I'll be okay."
"Okay. But, Kris?"
"Yes?"
"Please come and talk to me soon, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight."
As Kristy hung up the phone, she suddenly felt a loneliness overtake her. She glanced around her stylish Soho apartment. Everything around her was bright a cheerful. Colorful prints from Monet and Renoir graced her walls and her living room furniture was overstuffed with a flowery print. Never a very tidy person, every nook and cranny was filled with nick nacks, books and little framed pictures of family friends. It was designed to make a person feel happy and welcome. And normally it would have that effect on her, except for today.
Today, nothing could help her feel better.
It would take….a miracle.
She got up from and ran her fingers through her long dark brown hair leaning back a bit to stretch her stiff muscles. A breath of cool air drifted through her silk blouse and she glanced over to the door that stood open to her balcony. It looked inviting and she thought that maybe a little fresh air would make her feel better.
Once outside she pulled a chair near the railing and sat down, propping her feet against it. As she glanced up to the dark sky, all she noticed at first were black clouds hiding the moon and the stars.
Figures, she thought wryly. Even the sky seemed to match her mood. She really shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself like she was, and she knew it. Hadn't she always been made of stronger stuff? Hadn't she pulled through when things were at their worst? At eighteen, when her parents were killed, didn't she pull herself together and take control of her life?
She'd packed up her belongings, sold the family farm in Indiana, and moved our to New York to live with her older sister and her brother-in-law. She'd only been in the city for a week when she was approached by a top modeling agent, who had spotting her in a department story, passing out perfume samples.
It had only brought in a little extra money at first and then before she knew what we happening, she had been chosen for the cover of Glamour. After that her life was not her own. It was run on a schedule. A schedule filled with photo shoots, fashion shows and commercials.
But during those first few months, she had meet Cory Warner. His charming ways and that devastating smile had immediately stolen her heart. He had introduced himself as an actor, but as Kristy had come to find out, he was mostly an out-of -work actor. Looking back, she could see what she did not before. He had used her to help his own career.
Kristy was glad that it hadn't worked, for he still remained out of work. She guessed now he was a rich out of work actor!
What a fool I've been, she thought to herself. How could she let herself be taken advantage of it that way?
And, now, here she was. On her own again. Lonely. There was probably a country song written for such an occasion as this one.
She wanted to just run away. But to where? She had no home in Indiana anymore. No parents to run home to and cry on their shoulders. And as much as she loved her sister, she didn't feel comfortable bothering her and her husband. They had their own lives to lead.
A life that Kristy so envied. A husband, and a child… would she ever have that?
A movement in the sky caught her eye and she looked up to see the dark, black clouds moving to reveal a beautiful midnight blue sky, sparkling with brilliant penlights.
Kristy smiled as she thought back to a time when she and Danni would make wishes on the first star that they saw. How did it go? Oh yes…
Star light, Star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish, I wish tonight.
A giggle escaped her throat when she realized that she had spoken it aloud, and on impulse, decided to follow through with the rest of the game.
"I wish I could just be someone else. Someone that is just a simple wife. No career. No hectic schedules, just a wife."
A honking horn, from the street below, brought her back to reality and she couldn't help but smile at her foolishness. But somehow, she did feel better. She couldn't understand it, but there was a feeling rising within her that seem to say that everything was going to be alright.
She went back inside her apartment and readied herself for bed. And as she pulled the covers over her tired body, she could have sworn she heard a voice whisper, "As you wish…"
A shiver ran over her. She must be hallucinating. She did NOT hear a voice. But just to make sure, she laid still, barely breathing for a few moments.
Nothing.
With a weary sigh, she snuggled deep within the covers and fell fast asleep.
As she slept and dreamed, other forces were at work. Forces that had begun the moment she uttered her wish. Forces that would forever alter life as Kristy Kendrick knew it.

Chapter 1

By: Kimberley Comeaux
A ray of light broke through the thick fog of deep sleep. A frown marred Kristy's brow as she flung her arms over to shield her eyes. The light didn't diminish, however, it grew, and got brighter and brighter. This time she grabbed for the sheet and pulled it over her head.
Something wasn't right. The frown she sported deepened. From under the covers she slowly opened her heavy lids and blinked a couple of times to clear them.
Light? Why was there light coming threw her bedroom? Her bedroom window faced west and she had heavy drapes that shut out the light. Her eyes then adjusted to the lightweight sheet hovering over her face. White? Her sheets weren't white. Not solid white anyway. HER sheets had flowers and colorful ribbons running through them. And this mattress…it was most definitely NOT her waterbed!
With a jolt she sprang upright, knocking the sheet away. And what her blue eyes net with totally left her in a state of shock and unbelief. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she took in her alien surroundings. Her first thought was, I've been kidnapped and taken to…a museum?!
Large looming antiques were everywhere. The bed looked like it came right out of some gothic movie. It had a towering canopy and the heavy velvet drapes were pulled back and tied at the post. Tapestry's adorned the walls. And a large trunk was sitting in the corner with it's lid open and resting against the wall. It seemed to be filled with garments made of rich lavish colors and materials.
Her heart was beating ninety miles a minute. The shock was now beginning to wear off and fear and panic took it's place.
"Dear Lord, where am I?" she whispered to herself.
"You are in England, my child."
Another gasp sounded from her as she turned her head to her left and found a man standing beside her bed, completely clothed in ivory robes. Her hand moved to grasp at the neck of her gown. She noticed that the gown wasn't her own.
"What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?"
A gentle smile lit the pleasant face and a hand lifted, palm up, to her. "Please do not be alarmed. You are quite safe. I will not hurt you," his warm voice smoothed.
She felt herself being lured in by that voice and immediately starting resisting. "Just please tell me where I am and why I am here. And who are you?"
Still ever so calm, he answered her. "As I said before, child, you are in England. Twelfth century England to be exact." He noticed an eyebrow raised at that information. She didn't believe him. He went on. "And as for who I am…My name is Jubal. Am what you'd call your guardian angel."
This was no time for jokes! "And I'm Cinderella, and with a wave of you magic wand you are going to turn my pumpkin into a coach!" she snapped, sarcastically.
Jubal frowned. "No, my dear. I believe that Cinderella had a fairy godmother not an…"
"Oh, whatever! I do have a brain, you know. If you think that I'm going to believe all this mambo jumbo, then you're looney tunes!"
He patiently waited till she ended her little speech and replied still wearing that insufferable angelic smile, "Do you not remember your wish?"
She suddenly grew cold, "My...my wish?"
"You made a wish, last night. You wished you could be someone else and be someone's wife, if I not mistaken." And his smile assured that he never was.
"This is a dream. I must be having a dream!" She placed her hands on her forehead as if trying to understand what was happening to her and squeezed her eyes tight.
Enough is enough, she thought, and jumped from the bed and ran to the ************************************************************ **** "This is NOT England," she replied crisply as she reached the opening, "We are still in New … Oh my gosh...." Her voice drifted off, once more she was in a state of utter disbelief. For there stretched before her was a countryside she had never before seen, and saw crude buildings and great stone walls that she was sure had never graced U. S. soil. People dressed in dull pheasant— like clothing milled about.
Then she saw, coming down through the gates, were two magnificent black horses unlike anything she'd ever seen. But what was even more incredulous was what the horses carried.
They were knights, dressed in what looked like ********************************l chains, and elaborately draped in gray material trimmed in gold, no less, carrying a large flag like banner made of the same material, bearing what looked like an image of a great eagle in flight.
Kristy lifted her eyes to look beyond the knights, and gasped at what they encountered. Never, in her whole career, in working with some of the most stunning men in the world, had she ever seen such a man as this.
Unlike the two who rode before him, he wore no helmet on his exquisite head, but rather left those dark tresses bare for all to behold. He sat proud and erect on his silk draped stallion, which also bore the colors of gray and gold. And neither was his body clothed with the ********************************ls as the others, but instead was outfitted in layers of what, looked like over long shirts, made of silk, and over his shoulders was fastened a long flowing mantle made of velvet. At his waist was attached a sword, that Kristy could swear was pure gold. On his large muscular legs, he wore some sort of hose or stockings that hid nothing and accented everything.
She allowed her eyes to finally roam up his beautiful body to the face she had only glanced upon before. A concerned look creased her brow and she couldn't understand was why his expression on his face bothered her so. He was most certainly handsome, but his fine features were granite hard, unfeeling, uncaring…without hope.
A moving sound came from behind, causing her to startle. A blush colored her cheeks when she realized that she'd been standing at that darn stone window like some sort of moonstruck teenager!
But all that her eyes had met had told her the bone—chilling truth. The man was right. This was definitely NOT New York.
A chill ran through her thinly clad body and she felt herself shaking uncontrollably. She felt the man hands on her arms and found them strangely comforting. "Please...Please tell me this is a dream."
"I'm afraid it's not."
"Why...why this wish, I've wished on stars, hundreds of/f times. I even wished .my sister would turn into a puppy … one time when I was mad at her, but you didn't honor that wish. Why this one?" She could feel herself bordering on the brink of hysterics.
"Because the person's place that you have taken, also wished the same thing. Christiana of Cranbrook is now in New York in your apartment, but hasn't yet realized what has happen. She's still sleeping."
She turned to look at him, confusion darkened her blue eyes. "How can we trade places? The people who know Christiana will take one look at me and know I'm not her and the same thing about her. For goodness sakes, people all over the world know what I look like."
"Look at this," he said gently as he pushed a miniature painting in her palm.
Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes widen with astonishment. "It's me."
"It's Christiana." he corrected. "You two are nearly identical. That's why I could honor both your wishes."
"1 think I need to sit down." she wavered as she grasp the arm of what would have been an expensive antique chair in her day, and sank down in it.
"Will I ever get to go back?" she asked as everything started sinking in.
"I cannot tell you the exact day, but there will come a time when you will be given the choice to remain or leave. If just one of you wants to return then the other must also return."
"But I want to return, now! And I can't sit here and believe that once Christiana realizes where she is she'll want the same thing," she quickly replied, grasping at any shred of hope she could find.
"You must both give your granted wishes a chance. As I said before you will be given a chance to return, later. But right now, you must make the most of what's been given to you. You will receive what you have wished for." There was something in his voice that reassured her and put her to ease despite the incredible circumstances. But then she remembered her whole wish, her concern returned.
"I ask to be a wife. Is Christiana married, because if she is, how could I possibly...with her husband…he would surely know!" Her cheeks grew red at that unholy thought.
"No, no. But she is betrothed. It's a marriage that has been arranged by King Richard, himself. The man has just recently come into his earldom and the king thought that with this new responsibility he needed a wife and therefore an heir. And if he ever found out that you're not the true Christiana, I doubt it will matter much to him, at least at first. He's marrying only because the king has ordered it and also because he desires an heir."
"How barbaric! And you expect me to take her place and marry this stranger? No thanks!" she stood to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It will not be as bad as it seems, after all love can change any man. And besides, your husband-to-be is an earl of the king and knight of the realm. He intentionally failed to mention he was also the most feared, but knew she would come to realize that soon enough. "He is Darian Maxwell. Earl of Greystone."
For one delirious moment she felt a shiver of excitement at the mention of his name. But shrugged it off as being part of the shock she was still experiencing.
She sighed and looked up at Jubal. Then she asked him the question she was positive she didn't want to know. "Did Christiana make that wish because she didn't want to marry Darien?"
Jubal relented, "Yes."
"There must have been a good reason, then, for her to want out of it so bad that she wanted to be someone else!"
"You and Christiana may look alike, but your in many ways different. She has been pampered in her twenty years, after all she is the earl's only child. She's a sweet girl, just rather…spoiled," he said carefully. "She didn't relished giving up her independence. And when she realized that her father could not be talked out of the marriage, she was devastated. She knew that life with Darien would mean the end to her carefree life."
"End?" Kristy asked, trying to comprehend what he was trying to tell her. "What kind of a man is he?"
"He's the kind of man who needs a strong woman like yourself. You see, Kristy, you have a talent for seeing people as they are on the inside and not what they appear to be. You can be a great help to Darian. He needs you but its going to take time before he will realize it."
This whole thing was getting complicated. "I'm not here just because two desperate women made a hasty wish, am I. I'm here because you're also looking after Darian's well being." He nodded and they sat there in silence.
"So…when does this marriage take place?"
For the first time since she'd been in his presence, Jubel actually hesitated over his next words. "Well…today."
"Today?" she shreiked. "Today? I can't even have time to get adjusted to this time frame? You are just going to suddenly thrust me into a marriage with this Darian the Barbarian, and expect me to be happy over it?" She was sure now tht she had reached hysteria.
"Please, we must get down to details. We have very little time left."
Feeling nothing but numbness, she allowed him to lead her back to her seat and sit her down in a crude looking chair. He then placed a chair in front of her and sat down. "Now, your father is William, Lord of Cranbrook. You mother, however, passed away when you were quite young and you need not have to remember much about her. You call you father, Papa. Your ladies maid is called Nan and the rest doesn't matter. Christiana never paid much attention to them anyway." He studied the parchment he held in his hands. "Oh, yes. You must refer to your fiancé when you greet him today as 'my lord'. After you are married then I'm sure he'll set the tone as to what you'll be calling one another. And that is going to be all I'll be able to tell you because, in just a few moments, Christiana will awaken and I must be there." He got up and then went to another trunk that lay beside the bed and retrieved some sort of leather covered bundles.
"These are Christiana's journals. She was quite specific in her writings of everyday life and I assure you they'll be quite a help to you in the future, as your own journals will prove the same for her. And of course I took the liberty of putting it into modern English writing for you. You would not be able to understand much of the medieval writings." He handed the volumes to her and she instinctively hug them to her as if they were a life source.
"I will appear to you from time to time when I think it necessary so don't be alarmed when I do." He took her hand and gave it a fatherly squeeze and whispered. "Take care," and before she could blink, he had vanished.
"Jubal! Jubal come back!" she cried. She carelessly toss the journals on the bed and looked anxiously around the room trying to find him. Of course, it proved fruitless. Hadn't he just disappeared before her very eyes? "Jubal..." she whimpered helplessly to the air.
She frantically glanced about the room and wondered how in the world was she supposed to handle this. Running her hand through her long tresses she paced the stone floor, trying to formulate a game plan in her head. There just had to be away out of this, but how? It wasn't as if she could hope on a plane and head back for New York. When it didn't even exist, yet!
She wanted to cry and just when she decided that she had a darn, good reason to do so, a pleasantly plump lady, dressed like a servant came bustling through, pushing back the huge wooden bedroom doors.
Kristy, who was standing at the foot of the bed, froze. And a wide—eyed look of fear entered her eyes. The woman looked up about that time and returned the same look, but quickly relax and smiled. She dropped a quick curtsy and greeted, "Milady! Oh but you gave me a fright!" She set the tray that she held on a nearby table and gave her a knowing smile. "I've never known you to be up so early before, course it's not everyday a lady gets married, now is it." The woman who Kristy now assumed must be Nan, stepped behind a panel adorn with tapestry and brought out a beautiful gown of ivory silk and laid it out on the bed and started brushing out the wrinkles.
Realizing she hadn't said a word she rushed out, "No! Please, you've got to help me. I need to speak to Lord William. I'm not who you think I am. There's been a crazy mistake…you must believe me."
Nan looked at her mistress with hands on hips and a look much like an ever patient mother would wear with her over active child. "Now, my lady, I was afraid you'd try some sort of foolery, this morning, and I must admit, claiming your someone else is quite imaginative, but it'll not work! And that is a very clever accent you've mimicked, I've never heard the likes of it before." She poured some sort of liquid into a silver cup and held it out to her. "Now, drink a little of this, my lady, and we must make haste to ready you for your wedding."
Kristy found herself gulping down the liquid and grimaced once she had emptied the small cup. "Jeez, this is awful. What is it?"
Nan once again looked patiently at her and answered. "You know that is my tea made of herb, my lady, you drink it every morn."
"Look, I really have to talk to Lord William. This wedding today cannot take place until I can trade places with Christiana. Please, won't you listen..." But she could see her words were making no impact. Eyeing the open door to the chamber she decided on a course of action.
"Is Lor...I mean my father in his chamber on this wing?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, he is, but he is not to be disturbed. You shall meet him shortly in the hall with your bride groom."
With a triumphant smile she flew to the door and after quickly scanning the hallway, she decided the lord of the castle's chambers would definitely be behind the biggest set of doors.
As she padded rapidly down the hallway. She heard Nan's distraught voice calling after her. "Lady Christiana, you are not properly dress... .Oh, don't go in there....
It took every ounce of her nervous strength to push open the huge wooden door and when she finally accomplished it, she barged in through the opening and right into a massive chest cloaked in soft leather.
"Good God, Christiana! What the devil are you about, in such a state of undress!" the voice that belonged to the large body barked. She then felt two grips of steel enclose about her shoulders, pushing her back to face him.
"I...uh...I.." she stammered helplessly. If she hadn't been so shocked she would have probably been scared clean out of her wits! The face that glared down at her was that of a man in his late forties or early fifties. Gray hair streaked through his ebony locks that matched the strong arched brows that loomed over the angry crystal blue eyes. His features were stormy and his lips set in a grim line. And at 5' 11' she was not used to having to look so high up to meet a man's face. She was positive he must be at least 6'3"or 4" and his body was large, not with excess fat, but with hard bulging muscles that one would not expect from a man of his age.
"So speak, daughter, but if this is about your wedding, I will not hear no more of your persistent arguing. You will marry the earl and that is that!" bellowed the man who Kristy now knew was Christiana's father. .
Feeling relieved that she had indeed entered the right chamber, she quickly found her tongue. "Please, sir, I have something important to tell you. I'm not your dau…
He quickly released his hold on her and interrupted, throwing his hands on the sides of his head, "Deliver me, Lord, from such play acting!" he sighed, closing his eyes as if in prayer. "Who in Heaven's name has an accent such as this! Surely you can do better than that, Christiana!" he exclaimed mockingly as he shook his head and eyed her skeptically.
Kristy floundered a bit. Wasn't anybody going to listen? "I'm not your daughter!" she shouted at him. But instead of showing concern or alarm the great bear of a man just stood there and laughed! She then did a completely childish thing and stomped her foot in anger. This, of course, only made him laugh louder. "I'm telling you the truth."
Lord William wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and chuckled as he spoke, "Oh, my dear, but you do come up with the most amusing antics! So please finish your story! How is it, then, that you are not my daughter, this morn."
Taking a deep breath, Kristy fought to bring her ire under control. "Sir, I am telling you the truth. I am from the twentieth century. Last night I made a wish on a star that I would become someone else. Your daughter made the same wish as I. A guardian angel named Jubal decided to intervene and granted our wishes. We look exactly alike, so that is why … Please sir! This is NOT a laughing matter!"
By now the baron was doubled over with laughter. He held out his hand helplessly in a plea for her to stop. "Oh please, no more! This, I must admit, is the most outrageous of your tales." He finally brought himself under control but his eyes still danced on his attractive face as he regarded his daughter.
Kristy realized she was getting nowhere. Shoot! It even sounded unbelievable to her own ears and she was the one living in this bizarre nightmare!
She found herself being turned around towards the door and given a gentle push. "Now make haste to your chambers, milady, and ready yourself for your bridegroom. And no more walking the halls in your state of dress!" he called after her as she walked dejectedly back to Christiana's chamber.
Now what? It didn't look like anybody in this uncivilized century was going to believe her. And no wonder! This Christiana, whose place she had taken, must have been the Katherine Hepburn of her day!
Nan was waiting for her, nervously wringing her hands and behind her appeared two other servant girls who looked to be about her own age. They ushered her once again into the room and began to ready her for this terrible event that she wasn't so sure, now, that she'd be able to stop.

Chapter 2

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.

CHAPTER 3

The cold crisp England air ripped through the garment Kristy wore as if she were wearing nothing. The velvet mantle flying with the wind behind her offered nothing in the way of warmth. And her bottom was getting raw from straddling the horses bare back, while the muscles in her thighs were crying in pain from clamping tightly around the mares middle and trying not to fall off.
All in all, Kristy feared she had made a hasty and stupid mistake.
Remarkably, no one had seen her as she rode off the grounds. Either they were too busy to look up or they were in their cottages. And now as she reached what looked like a road, she wasn't all together sure just where she'd planned on going in the first place. If she just knew where Christiana's uncle lived she could go there. But where in the heck was 'yon hill' as Nan had so Englishly put it?
Her stomach growled in protest of the breakfast it missed, and she was shivering from the damp. October air. She nudged her mount on up the road and stopped when she came to a trail leading into the woods.
An idea began forming in her mind. She decided to hide out in the forest for most of the day and by the evening she would go back to the castle and hope that Darian the barbarian was gone by then.
Carefully she dismounted and smoothed her skirts back into place. As quietly as she could, she lead the horse into the dark trees and soon found a clearing where she was sure that she wouldn't be seen from the road.
She sat on the cold, wet ground and wrapped her mantle tight around her shivering form. Good grief! But this place was spooky. It was broad daylight outside but where she sat there was only small rays shooting through the thickly leafed trees, making everything look dim. And Kristy was sure she heard every eerie sound imaginable the first fifteen minutes out there.
She felt a pair of eyes on her and she looked up to find the mare she'd ridden staring down at her. She snapped at her, "What are you looking at, you stupid animal? I know this was an idiotic idea. Wishes! Bah! I'll never make another wish as long as I live!" She pulled irritatingly at the mantle trying to pull it closer, doing not a bit of good.
"Do you make a habit of talking to animals? Or were you referring to me?"
"No I don't always talk to…" she started to answer the deep voice that came from the direction of her horse, but her heart stopped and her eyes grew round as she began to realize that horses don't talk. That meant she now had company!
Jumping up she peered over her horse and met with a pair of cool gray eyes. Her eyes then took in the rest of him and immediately realized that this was the man she'd seen riding up to the castle this morning.
"You!" she cried, her eyes showing her surprise.
A dark eyebrow quirked up and the man, who was standing there with huge arms crossed over his chest, answered dryly. "Me?"
For a second she was too stunned to move. Never, never had any man (or any woman for that matter) spoken to her in such a condescending manner. And she was mad at herself for not standing up to him, but some sane, common sense part of her seemed to remind her that she was living in a different time, in another part of the world. A world that didn't have the ideals that were bred in her all her life, ruled by men who looked at woman as nothing more than a vessel for breeding their offspring and treated as second class citizens.
For now she decided to back down, but just this once. Once they reached the castle she would think of something else. Standing alone in a forest with a barbarian who could easily do her harm was not the time and place to pick a fight.
Kristy resentfully turned to her horse but nearly let out a groan when she looked at it's bare back. How in the world was she going to find a graceful way to mount and ride without stirring his dander up again?
Too late! "What, may I ask, is now the problem?" his deep voice barked causing her to wince.
She stared up at him with narrowed eyes and a pursed set of lips. She'd run into muggers that were nicer than this big oaf! "You don't have to yell at me, I'm not deaf. But you must be blind because if you could see, you would notice that I don't have a saddle, Sherlock!"
Of course the 'Sherlock' totally escaped him, the rest of her words did not. "You to tell me that you rode out hear with a saddle?"
"I was in a hurry!"
A sudden picture of her appeared in his mind. He could almost imagine a pair of lily white, shapely legs as they gripped the sides of her horse, her tunic gathered high above her knees....With a determined forcefulness he shook his wayward thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on the problem at hand.
He swore then. Loudly and colorfully. "God save me from idiotic women!" He raged toward heaven, throwing his arms upward then letting them fall heavy against his legs.
In two seconds he was mounted on his horse and another two, he had grabbed her up with one arm and planted her sideways in front of him. This put her sitting much to close for comfort in his lap. He then slapped the mare's rear and immediately it fled the direction from where they had come. With a nudge from his spurs they soon followed.
They rode in complete and very uneasy silence the whole way back to Cranbrook castle. And sitting across his legs as she was, totally unnerving her to no end. And it didn't help that his brutish arm was clamped tightly around her waist, holding her body flush up against his rock solid chest. Consciously she held herself ridged, refusing to allow her head to rest against his neck.
An emotion that she wasn't well acquainted with was surfacing at an alarming rate. It was fear. Fear, not from what she thought he might be capable of doing to her, nor from his callous threats. It was a fear of herself, what she was feeling, how her body was reacting being so close to him. Fear of how her heart wanted to reach out to him when she caught a glimpse of the well hidden unhappiness lingering in his eyes.
And that's why she wouldn't dare relax her head and give in to him. Because she felt once her cool cheek pressed against the warmness of that thick beautiful neck she would lose the will to fight this marriage. He was the type of man a woman could lose her heart too. But he was most certainly the type of man that could easily rip that same heart to pieces.
A stubbornness appeared in her blue eyes and a streak of pride came nudging through to the forefront of her thoughts. Besides, she soundly reminded herself, the man is a total cad. He walks about on God's green earth as if all it's inhabitant should bow down and obey his every command. So what if he's drop dead handsome. Big deal! Pretty is as pretty does, as her grandma so often reminded her, and so far his personality hasn't exactly come up smelling like roses!
Remember that Kristy, remember that! But her resolve slipped a notch as she felt his warm breath as it gently touched her ear.
She clenched her eyes tightly and pleaded inwardly, Jubal, please get me out of this!
Jubal, looking down on the couple as they entered the castle gate from his perch up in the heavens, just smiled a smile that said 'everything is working as planned'..... and remained… silent.
********
The time had come. With a sinking heart, Kristy felt the weight of what was now going to happen bear heavily upon her. How could she have known? How could she have known that a silly impetuous wish would have sent her to this unbelievable fate! It had all the makings of a Twilight Zone episode. But this wasn't TV and Rod Serling wasn't around the corner recounting the details. This was real. Bizarre. But, unfortunately, real.
And in just a few short minuets she was to become the Countess of Greystone. Correction, Christiana was becoming a countess, but until she could convince Jubal to ship her out of her and back to the twentieth century, she was Christiana of Cranbrook whether she liked it or not.
When they had returned to the castle, she had made one last ditch effort to persuade Lord William that she was not his daughter. But the man obviously didn't spend enough quality time to get to know his daughter or either he was too distraught over losing Christiana to such a threatening man, because Kristy was sure that her parents would have known right away that someone had switched places with her, dead ringer or not!
But then again, being that Christiana was so obviously given to theatrics, her story merely sounded like a desperate final ploy to escape this unwanted union.
Nan stepped back, looking Kristy over and admiring the wonderful job she had done on making her into a beautiful bride. "Well, milady, at least you look from the outside like a proper bride for an earl, if only you would try to look a mite bit chipper and take that awful frown from your face. 'Tis nothing you can do but marry the man and be done with it." she said with a sigh.
Kristy returned the sigh and looked with trepidation at the huge wooden doors leading into the small but charming chapel. "You're right, Nan. I guess I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind it would take place whether I wanted it to or not, I just had to try." And hadn't Jubal said that here whole wish would be granted? A wish that included the emotion of love? That and that alone gave her the only hope she could cling to.
"I'm ready to go in, now," she said with remarkable strength in her voice and tilted her chin upward in a show of determination. She had gotten through trials and problems before, she would get through this, too.
Lord William met Kristy at the doors and gave her a loving, fatherly hug and walked with her into the chapel.
Darian watched as the doors opened and his bride came walking in. From the outside, one might think he cared not a thought for the beauty walking to him with boldness shining in her crystal blue eyes. But from the inside, it clearly was not a case of not caring or not feeling for, in fact, it was just the opposite. But what exactly he felt, that Darian did not know. Lust, maybe? It could be. From the moment he laid eyes on her something ignited in him, the very sound of that soft voice stirred his blood and made him want to put his hands on her and taste of her lips.
Aye, that was lust. And that would be good. It would make it much more pleasurable to see to the task of getting her with child. And though she referred to him as a barbarian, he knew that she wasn't totally indifferent to him. He could almost read her thoughts as they rode back this morning from the forest, as she struggled to hold herself ridged against him, unwilling to touch him more than she had to.
The thought of someday loving her never once entered his mind. To him that wasn't an option or a choice. It just could simply never be. Only a fool would put total trust in another human being. Only a fool left himself vulnerable to the chance of being hurt. And after twice being made such a fool, Darian would not allow a third.
Kristy saw Darian's dark glaze rake her figure from top to bottom and then back up again. There was definitely something different about this look in his eyes than before. Where his eyes this morning had been cold, now they were....Geez! They were practically blazing! She decided right then and there that she much preferred the cold ones rather than the ones she was staring into now. She felt like one of those poor lobsters in a restaurant tank that some hungry customer was eyeing greedily.
Forcing herself to look ahead at the homely but pleasant looking friar, she finished her march down the aisle, released Lord Williams arm and stood next to her betrothed. As she stood there, the whole ceremony seemed to go in slow motion, not seeming to make any sense. It just didn't seem real.
For heaven's sakes, just last night she'd been crying over being dumped by Cory and today she was getting married. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still thought that at any time she was going to wake up and it was all going to be a dream. With sudden inspiration she reached down and gave her leg a good hard pinch.
Nothing happened. It has to be real. It's not a dream. Or maybe I'm going crazy.....
She felt Darian stir beside her and she saw that his hand was stretched out to her, palm up. She looked at him curiously.
"Your hand, Christiana. For the ring..." he whispered, but not very gently. It was clear that he was irritated that she was not paying attention.
She mouthed an "Oh!" and placed her hand into his very warm one. She almost jerked it back in surprise. She expected it to be cold, not the warm, alive touch of a real human being. A real man....
The ring that he slipped on her finger was absolutely the most beautiful piece of jewelry that she'd ever seen. Nothing in all of Tiffany's could compare to it. The ring was made up of thin, delicate gold wires, weaved into swirling patters that resembled dainty leaves. And embedded in the leaves were emeralds of the most brilliant shade of green.
She then heard the friar announce that they were now man and wife and said something about sealing the union with a kiss.
Kristy looked up nervously at Darian and saw that he was staring down at her with a strange light in his eyes. Oh Boy! He's going to kiss me! Somehow that knowledge caused her stomach to flutter and her heart rate to quicken.
But her heart quickly resumed its normal pace. Maybe even slowed a bit....with disappointment. You really couldn't have called it a kiss. It was merely a pressing of the lips, over and done with such a high rate of speed she wondered if they had touched at all. It reminded her of the kiss Billy Simmons gave her in the third grade at recess.
But that kiss had sealed her fate. She was married. She was no longer a model with schedules, long tiring working hours, and no time or privacy for herself. She was a wife. No longer Kristy Kendrick, but Christiana, Countess of Greystone.
Her wish had come true.
Almost...
Because what was being a wife without the love to go along with it. She could have accomplished this much in the twentieth century. Men all over America would have married her if she'd ask any of them. But it wouldn't be her they wanted but the image of Kristy Kendrick, the model who had graced the cover of the bathing suit edition of their favorite sport's magazine, clad in that peep show of a bikini they had put on her. Those men wouldn't care what her favorite songs were or whether or not she like Chinese food. Or that she like to take long walks in the mornings, with not a bit of makeup on, clad in old gray sweats.
Would Darian ever come to care for her, or would he stay that cold, unmerciful hard man that she had come to know? And could she be happy living in a world totally alien to her? Could she leave behind her sister and her successful career? Would it be enough just to have Darian's love?
She sighed as they left the chapel and rode out into the sunshine.
Right now, she wasn't sure about anything.