Chapter Ten #3
Brian’s face mottled red underneath the silver and black beard and he turned away, dragging a hand over his face in a wretched attempt to control his fury.
“Dear God, you married her. You married her after I dissolved your contract!” he whirled to his son, jabbing a thick finger at him.
“You had no right, Alec! No right whatsoever and I swear to you that this is not the end of it. You were wrong to disobey me.”
Alec raised a slow, deliberate eyebrow. “I took what was mine and there is nothing you can do about it. The marriage contract is in my saddlebags and the union was consummated. She is my wife in the eyes of God and by the laws of England.”
Brian marched toward his son again. “By God, what have I ever done to cause you to go against me? Have I wronged you somehow? Have I humiliated you, cursed you? Why would you do this?”
“Because I want her,” Alec replied honestly. “Why are you so angry when I have forged a powerful alliance with St. Cloven, to say nothing of the Summerlin heirs Peyton will bear.”
Brian blinked sharply as if he had been struck. All of the color drained from his face and he suddenly looked very old and very tired. Turning somewhat unsteadily, he meandered to his desk and perched his wide bottom on the pointy edge, his brown eyes gazing pensively into the space of the room.
“’Twill be the only heirs the Summerlins are to have,” he said hoarsely, shoulders sagging. “Pauly says that Rachel’s child is dead.”
The fire had gone out of the confrontation and Alec was deeply sorry for the heartache he had caused his father.
It was an added problem the man did not need, but he did not regret his action in the least. Still, he was remorseful for the turmoil he had brought down upon Brian’s shoulders.
He and his father had always been exceedingly chummy and it pained him to see disharmony between them.
“Ali told me,” he replied quietly. “The child has not been born yet?”
“Not yet. It’s been over eighteen hours and there has been little progress in the birth.”
Alec sighed, moving to sit beside his father. Now that the initial hostilities and anger were aired, it was easier to focus on the true catastrophe happening within the walls of Blackstone. A marriage, as significant as that was, was nothing compared to the perpetuation of the family line.
“Pauly could be wrong, you know,” he said to his father.
Brian snorted softly, sadly. “Mayhap. But the fact that the child is nearly two months early is another strike against it. Remember last year when she bore a daughter nearly three months early? The child lived naught but a few hours.”
Alec was truly sorrowful for Rachel and for his father. All the man wanted out of life was a grandson, an heir to carry on the powerful Summerlin name.
“Is mother with her?” he asked softly.
Brian nodded dully. “Your mother has not slept since the labor began. She is nearly at her limit and Paul is only capable of wailing and carrying on like an idiot. He is asleep now, thankfully, but I have had my hands full keeping him calm.”
Alec watched his father, the man whom he most wanted to be like when he was a young boy. There was still a portion of that little boy buried deep within, the son who wanted to be a powerful knight like his father, still so desperate to please him.
“I am sorry to cause you so much unrest, Da,” he said quietly. “But I believe my marriage to Peyton will be most favorable and strong. I will make you proud of me, have no doubt.”
Brian turned to look at his son, still in his view the most powerful knight in the realm.
God, how he loved him. “You have never disappointed me, Alec. You have been the cause of a good deal of insanity and torment, but you have never shamed me,” he slapped his fair-haired son gently on the cheek.
“Yet you will know how displeased I am with your actions. I made it quite clear that Lady Peyton was betrothed to the Warrington boy and it was not your right to act as you did.”
The mood between them was calm and rational and Alec felt a good deal less defiant, simply the need to make his father understand his reasons.
“I want her, Da. I have never wanted a woman in my life, but I want her. Is that so difficult to understand? She gives me a peace and comfort I have never known,” he lowered his gaze, studying the cracks in the floor.
“I told her of Peter and as I did, I suddenly felt as if some of my pain had been eased. ’Tis difficult to describe, but it was a cleansing experience.
I…. I need her. I have never needed anyone in my life as I need her. ”
Brian was focused on his son, amazed at his confession.
He’d never heard words of such depth come forth from his emotionless son and he was touched.
“Then I am glad for you, Alec, truly,” he said quietly.
“God only knows the guilt you have harbored these twelve years. If your wife helps ease your anguish, then I could ask for no greater pleasure.”
Somewhat embarrassed at his admission, even if the listener was his father, Alec gazed at the floor pensively for a moment before looking to the burly man with a sheepish grin. “But you are still angry.”
Brian raised a sharp eyebrow and growled. “Had I the strength, I would take you over my knee. You have put me in a very awkward position.”
Alec’s grin faded. “You cannot be serious about marrying Ivy to the Warrington whelp.”
“With Peyton married, Ivy is the logical substitution.”
“Have the Warrington’s already agreed to her?”
“They consented early this morning, which is why they are on their way to Blackstone to complete the contract.”
Alec crossed his massive arms thoughtfully, eyeing his father. “She is no longer a virgin. They will not want her when this becomes knowledge.”
“My God,” Brian’s face twisted as if in great pain. “I knew it. Ali would not tell me, but I suspected as much. Especially after your mother told me of Lady Ivy’s…. er, mark. Damnation!”
“Then you now know it as fact. Surely you cannot promise a compromised woman in marriage.”
Brian opened his mouth to utter a reply when there was a soft rap on the door. He and Alec turned to the door as it opened quietly and Ali poked his head in.
“Alec?” he began hesitantly. “I have brought….”
Alec waved him in. “Come in, all is well.”
The door opened wide and Ali entered, leading Peyton by the hand. Peyton, flushed and nervous, kept her gaze lowered until Alec reached out and took her from his friend.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Greet my father.”
Peyton raised her eyes uncertainly to Brian, who merely gave her a weak smile. He could see her doubt and fear and knew for a fact she was an innocent in Alec’s determined scheme. Poor naive child, he thought. Little did he realize the truth.
Brian held out his arms to his newest daughter. “Come here, love, and let me see if you taste as good as I remember,” when she responded to his embrace, he kissed her on the cheek and smacked his lips. “Indeed. Better by the day, like St. Cloven ale.”
Peyton managed an embarrassed grin as Alec pulled her into his gentle embrace. “We cannot age it too long, my lord, else it will be too strong and bitter,” she said.
“Undoubtedly.” Brian rose and went to an ornate wooden table etched in gold leaf. Upon the table were two large pitchers, and he poured amber liquid into four glasses. “I do believe that in the six months you have been managing St. Cloven, the ale has never been better. Do you not agree, Alec?”
Alec took a proffered chalice and handed it to his wife, taking the next for himself. Ali took his cup silently and moved to the distant wall, his expression guarded. He was still too wary of Brian’s intentions with Ivy to be chummy with the man.
“Absolutely,” Alec smiled at Peyton and took a healthy drink of his goblet.
Peyton followed suit, the familiar tang of St. Cloven Dark Ale bathing her tongue. Two more swallows of the liquid had her courage returning as well as her voice. Brian had resumed his seat behind his desk, pondering his surroundings distantly as they drank their ale in silence.
“My lord,” she said, setting her goblet down. “Is it truly your intention to marry Ivy to Colin Warrington?”
Alec expected her to ask such a question and turned expectantly to his father, waiting for the correct reply. Brian, however, did not respond instantly. He continued to sit and contemplate his ale.
“If you will forgive me, my lady, that is none of your affair,” he said after a moment. “With your father dead, ’tis my duty to find your sister a suitable husband and….”
“And Ali is not suitable?” Peyton demanded, bordering on outrage. “He was quite suitable not a day ago. Why is he no longer suitable?”
Brian looked at her, then. “Ali is not an heir. Your sister will become lady of Wisseyham Keep, a substantial manor with a good deal of investment in cattle and, in that respect, Colin Warrington is a more suitable mate.”
“Colin Warrington is a pig,” Peyton said flatly, forgetting to whom she was speaking. “He is a disgusting, filthy man with the morals of a barbarian. Obviously, my father never fully divulged the extent of the de Fluornoy-Warrington feud, else you would not make such a ridiculous statement.”
Brian lifted an eyebrow at her insolence. “Mind your tongue, lady.”
Peyton was never one to back down from a confrontation and with her sister’s happiness at stake she would push her manner to the very limits of respect.