Chapter Ten #6
“With luck, he shall return in three or four hours,” Alec replied, noting the wistful tone of Ivy’s voice. “Have no fear, Lady Ivy. He shall return dragging the lawyer by his hair if it is the fastest way.”
From outside the thick stone walls there came a shouting, a chorus that was picked up by several other soldiers. Alec moved to the latticed windows, feeling the heat of the day grasping at his face as he gazed out over the bailey.
“What is it?” Peyton asked him.
He shook his head vaguely. “I am not sure. It looks like….” he suddenly broke off, taking a long look before whirling on his heel and marching for the door. Ivy and Peyton watched his sharp movements with concern.
“What is it, Alec?” Peyton demanded again.
To her distress, his face was as hard as stone. When he spoke, his tone was like ice. “It looks as if the Warrington’s have ridden even harder than Ali. They’re early.”
The sisters gasped and dashed to the window even as Alec jerked open the door. But he paused a moment, anticipating their reaction. He was far more concerned with their mental state than the anger that would surely come from the scorned family.
“Blue and black,” Peyton murmured. “The Warrington standard. See the preying cat?”
Ivy nodded. “Look! My God, there’s Colin Warrington himself in the very lead.”
Peyton jostled for a closer look. “Look at the pea-brained lout! And, Good Lord, Nigel has lost a good deal of hair. The last I saw him, he had a crown of sandy blond hair. Now it looks as if a blind man tried to shave his scalp.”
Satisfied to see that the appearance of the hated enemy had not turned either woman into hysterical females, he closed the door behind him and proceeded down the corridor.
Truthfully, their reaction did not surprise him; he was coming to learn that the de Fluornoy women were made of much stronger elements that most other females. Their bravery and gumption pleased him deeply, and he was far better able to focus on the coming conflict that was undoubtedly brewing.
His wife’s scorned suitor.
*
Brian and Lady Celine were caught up in the turmoil of Rachel’s labor and Alec could hear the woman moaning as he stood outside her bower, relaying the arrival of the Warringtons to his father.
Brian, pale-lipped and sweating, seemed to be having difficulty grasping the turn of events and Alec was concerned for his father’s sanity.
He knew how desperately his father wanted a grandson, but the man was acting as if it were his very own child being born.
Lady Celine, pale and drawn, made a brief appearance in the corridor and did not so much as utter a hostile word to Alec regarding his elopement.
All of her energy, too, seemed to be focused on the impending child and she quickly disappeared into the bower when Rachel emitted a particularly pathetic groan.
It was plain to Alec that his father was incapable of handling this tense confrontation at the moment and he hastened to assure his father that he would handle the Warringtons until Brian’s composure returned.
While his father retreated to his bower to freshen-up and regain his senses, Alec found himself down in the foyer preparing to greet the most unsavory guests.
Toby met him in the doorway, his young face flushed from the heat. “The Warringtons are early. We have not prepared….”
Alec cut him off. “I know. Where’s Jubil?”
Toby blinked at the change of subject. “Upstairs, I suppose. We returned a few minutes ago. What about the Warringtons?”
Alec watched the small procession enter the bailey, particularly scrutinizing the two men astride lavish chargers. The father and son dismounted, conversing between themselves and studying the interior of the bailey. Purposely, Alec let them wait.
“Toby, find Jacques and Horatio. Tell them to hasten the preparation of the chambers in the west wing for the Warringtons.”
“But those are the smallest, dingiest rooms in the…. oh,” Toby suddenly grinned, a gesture much like his older half-brother. “Anything else?”
“Notify the kitchens that our guests are early. Tell them we will delay dinner for three hours after the usual time.”
Toby continued to grin. “How terribly inconsiderate. Shall I also have the stewards provide the bedchambers with shackles and chains?”
“Not at the moment,” Alec returned crisply. “Nails in the mattress shall suffice for now. Get moving, lad.”
Toby dashed off and Alec continued to watch the Warringtons as they waited for a Summerlin to extend a welcome.
One of the lesser stewards had already greeted them and Alec watched the servant bow and scrape before Nigel, knowing that the excessive delay was becoming intensely embarrassing.
But he continued to linger in the doorway unobtrusively, forcing the Warringtons to wait.
A figure suddenly appeared beside him, resplendent in a bejeweled shade of sapphire that matched the intense color of her eyes. Alec instinctively reached out and grasped his wife’s arm.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded softly.
Peyton looked quite innocent. And quite determined. “Your mother is unable to attend her guests and I, as your wife, shall greet them in her stead.”
Alec let out a hiss. “Do you think that entirely wise?”
“Of course,” she said briskly. “What are you waiting for?”
He gazed down at her, from head-to-toe the loveliest woman he had ever laid eyes on. It was enough to melt him to the core.
“I cannot say that I agree with you,” he said softly. “Especially in light of the fact that one of our ‘guests’ happens to be a spurned groom.”
Peyton’s brilliant eyes trailed to the bustling bailey, dust swirling through the air and clinging to the clothing of their visitors. “I am not concerned in the least with Colin Warrington’s feelings, Alec. I am your wife, as I should be. If Colin cannot accept the fact, it is his misfortune.”
Alec could force her to return to her room, of course, as he suspected he should.
But something deep in his soul wanted the Warringtons to see her, to know that she was his, and to know how proud he was to have her.
His intention was not to flaunt her in their face as one would a coveted prize; precisely, he wanted them to see that he considered her far more than a trophy.
He considered her the only woman worthy to be his wife.
“All right, then,” he said quietly. “But you will allow me to do the talking. Do you comprehend me?”
“Aye,” she nodded, although he wondered if she meant it.
But he did not press her for her vow to curb her tongue. Instead, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and stepped into the bailey.
Colin and Nigel were riveted to her from the moment she exited the castle and Alec felt himself stiffen at the attention. But he maintained his outward calm, approaching with Peyton on his arm and eyeing the Warringtons as if they were a lower life form.
“My lords,” he said in his low, rich voice. “I am Sir Alec Summerlin and this is my wife, the Lady Peyton. I bid you welcome to Blackstone.”
Colin and Nigel barely looked at him; they were entirely focused on Peyton as she curtsied with polished grace.
“Where is your father?” Nigel asked, his tone cold.
“Indisposed,” Alec replied with equal hardness. “Your party is early and he has more pressing duties to attend to at the moment.”
Nigel continued to stare at Peyton, who kept her gaze properly averted. “You are looking exceptionally well, Lady Peyton. I haven’t seen you in many years.”
She merely nodded and Nigel made a move toward her, extending his hand. Alec saw that he was moving to grasp her chin, to force her to look at him, and he pulled her out of the man’s range.
“That,” he growled, “would not be a wise move, my lord. No man touches my wife but me.”
Nigel looked to Alec, his blue eyes narrowing. “Considering you are speaking of stolen property, you are hardly in a position to make demands. Lady Peyton was meant for my son, as you well know, and I cannot tell you how displeased the House of Warrington is at this blatant thievery.”
“Lady Peyton was originally intended for me, my lord, but you had no way of knowing that when you sent your missive requesting her hand. Plans for our marriage had already been made some time ago.”
Nigel snorted, his eyes trailing to Peyton once again.
This time, she was looking at him openly, hostility simmering in the depths of the sapphire blue eyes.
He smiled thinly. “It certainly did not take you an over amount of time to find another husband after the death of Deveraux. As I hear it, the two of you were inseparable. You were at the tournament in Norwich when he was killed, were you not? How tragic for you.”
To her surprise, Peyton did not flinch. She felt a good deal of anger at his attempt to upset her, but none of the hollow grief she associated with James’ death. It was amazing that she wasn’t dissolving into tears at the mere sound of his name.
“Indeed,” was all she said.
Alec did not look at her, his fury rising over Nigel’s bid to unnerve her. But he was immensely pleased that she did not respond to his jibe, as he had asked her not to. She was silent, as promised, allowing her husband to handle the situation.
Nigel laughed softly at her lack of reaction. “Surely with all of that red hair you cannot be so cold-hearted. I express my condolences for the passing of your beloved betrothed and all you can say is ‘indeed?’ Shocking.”
Her composure slipped somewhat, replaced by building anger. When she spoke, it was with carefully measured tones. “I neither want nor care for your condolences, my lord. I am here on behalf of my husband’s mother to bid you welcome to Blackstone, not to hear your prevaricating blather.”
Alec almost smiled, but he fought it. Nigel raised a disapproving eyebrow at Peyton’s tone as Colin stepped forward, appraising her as if she were a prize mare.
“Let us hope that your new husband is able to impart some manners into your refractory nature,” he said in a low voice. “Be glad, in that case, that you did not marry me. Beauty or no, I would have taken your hide off at the first sign of insolence.”
Peyton’s beautiful face glazed with animosity.
Good lord, how she hated this man! Certainly she had promised Alec that she would not speak overly, and until this point she’d handled herself exceptionally well.
But to stand so close to the hated Colin Warrington eroded her will power and she couldn’t resist jabbing his arrogance.
“You are not man enough.”
Colin twitched menacingly in her direction.
Alec was driving his fist into the younger Warrington’s face before he took another breath, sprawling the man on the dirt in less than a second.
Nigel yelped and shielded his son protectively as Peyton pressed herself to Alec, struggling to stop him from doing any further damaged to Brian’s guests.
Throughout all of Peyton’s pleading and Nigel’s protests, Brian chose that moment to exit the castle, taking a mere two steps onto the loose dirt of the bailey as the horrific scene unfurled before him.
“Alec!”