A Royal Marriage. Rachelle McCalla

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      A Wedding Awaits

      Despite her protests, Princess Gisela, headstrong daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne, must enter into a diplomatic marriage. Yet en route to her wedding, her ship is attacked and she’s gravely injured. Rescued by a renowned healer, King John of Lydia, Gisela recuperates at his Mediterranean castle. The handsome, widowed ruler soon has her reevaluating her beliefs on love and marriage...but only if King John could be her groom. Their love is forbidden, and duty requires him to deliver her to her betrothed. Unless they can find a way to join their hearts—and kingdoms—with love, faith and honor.

      Gisela got the sense that King John still mourned some great loss.

      Her injury throbbed, distorting her thoughts with feverish confusion. Was it the king’s pain or her own that filled her heart with sorrow?

      Already strained by the gash on her head, Gisela whimpered softly as tears formed.

      “Whoa.” The king pulled his mount to a halt. He shifted, and a moment later Gisela felt his hand on her face. “Are you getting worse?”

      The touch of his hand imparted comfort, and when he drew it away, she missed it.

      “Rest if you can,” he murmured, slowly urging the horse up to speed. “We have a long way to travel yet.”

      The king’s words were a reminder she sorely needed. Yes. She had a mission to fulfill. She couldn’t die.

      The people they’d left back at the dock were depending on her. If she didn’t make it, there would likely be war, not only for her father’s people, but for King John’s, too. She owed it to them to survive.

      More than that, she owed it to King John himself.

      RACHELLE McCALLA

      is a mild-mannered housewife, and the toughest she ever has to get is when she’s trying to keep her four kids quiet in church. Though she often gets in over her head, as her characters do, and has to find a way out, her adventures have more to do with sorting out the carpool and providing food for the potluck. She’s never been arrested, gotten in a fistfight or been shot at. And she’d like to keep it that way! For recipes, fun background notes on the places and characters in this book and more information on forthcoming titles, visit www.rachellemccalla.com.

      A Royal Marriage

      Rachelle McCalla

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

      —Ecclesiastes 3:1, 8

      To Gisela, daughter of Charlemagne, and all her sisters throughout history whose stories have been lost to us. While we don’t know precisely how you spent your days, this book shows how I imagine you to be based on those few details we do know. Most importantly, we know you were a woman of faith. I hope my words have been faithful, if not to the facts long lost to time, then at least to your spirit.

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Dear Reader

       Questions for Discussion

       Excerpt

      Chapter One

      Castlehead, Lydia, A.D. 801

      “A ship approaches, Your Majesty. Her sail is spread with the Carolingian cross.” Renwick, chief messenger among the Lydian guard, bowed low before the king.

      “Charlemagne.” His Royal Highness, King John of Lydia, lowered the sword with which he’d been sparring with his younger brother, Prince Luke. Why would the Holy Roman Emperor send a ship to Lydia unannounced? Charlemagne’s realm had expanded vastly under his leadership, but John had assumed the renowned ruler would have no interest in the tiny kingdom of Lydia. Was he wrong?

      King John turned to face the messenger. “She approaches directly?”

      “Making for the wharf at high speed, sire,” Renwick panted as though he, too, had run to reach the king quickly.

      “Then we shall make haste, as well.” Sheathing his sword, John headed for the courtyard gate, the fastest route to the Mediterranean shore.

      “To the lookout tower, Your Majesty?” Renwick appeared confused by the king’s choice of direction.

      “No, Renwick.” John led the way. “To the wharf.”

      Prince Luke ran beside him. “Why would Charlemagne visit Lydia? We are not his vassals.”

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