Chapter Eleven #4
It was a queer statement and Alec eyed his father with puzzlement. “And how is that?”
Brian did not look at him. “That I am a weakling, a confused old man. I am not, you know. What I do, I do to preserve the sanctity of the Summerlin line.”
Alec’s eyebrows furrowed and his hand left the door latch, instead, moving back into the room towards his father. “And what, may I ask, does this decision have to do with the Summerlins?”
Brian shook his head faintly and slouched against the chair. “More than you know, lad. You must trust me on this. Lady Ivy must marry Colin.”
Alec’s grand scheme to whisk Ivy away was suddenly in peril of being crushed. What in the world did his father mean? “What would happen if she did not?”
Brian closed his eyes, laboring for breath. “Catastrophic things, Alec. Please do not ask me anymore.”
Alec was by his father’s side, kneeling beside the bear of a man. His sky-blue eyes were questioning. “I must. Has Nigel threatened you? What has he done?”
Brian peeped an eye open and observed his proud, strong son.
The sight of Alec’s concerned face was almost the shove he needed to confess the sins of the past, but he stopped himself.
He simply couldn’t bring himself to admit to his son that the Summerlins were less than perfect. That he was less than perfect.
He closed his eye. “Nothing, lad. Get on with my request.”
Suddenly, Alec was greatly indecisive. Would spiriting Ivy away jeopardize some secret treaty that his father was struggling to conclude, something Alec was unaware of?
He had no idea what that could possibly be, but Brian seemed far more exhausted and serious than Alec had ever known him to be. And that deeply concerned him.
The longer he knelt next to his father, the more uncertain he became. Family came above all else, even Ali, and if Alec’s rash action would hazard Brian, then Alec would not be a party to it. No matter how deeply he felt to the contrary.
“Da,” he said softly. “Why won’t you tell me what Warrington said to make you change your mind? Do you not trust me?”
“With my life, Alec, as you well know,” Brian said quietly. “But, truthfully, I cannot tell you. You must trust me on this, lad. You simply must.”
“But….”
“No,” Brian held up his hand sharply, moving to grip Alec’s trencher-sized hand tightly. “No questions. You must trust me.”
Alec looked miserable and Brian felt the pain of his secret to his soul.
Deeper, in fact. He felt as if an unseen hand was wrenching his guts violently.
The look in Alec’s eyes was the force behind the unseen hand, Brian realized, and he closed his eyes against him.
He couldn’t stand to see the beseeching look on Alec’s face.
“Go,” he rasped.
Alec rose unsteadily, wanting to press his father for the answers he sought. But Brian was weak, as his heart condition often rendered him, and Alec would not harass him. His only hope was that the wedding could be delayed until some sense was pounded into Brian’s head.
It was his only hope and a weak one at that. As much as he wanted to take Ivy to Ali, he could not. His father had asked him to trust him, and trust him he would.
Alec opened the door to the small room in time to see Toby marching rapidly down the hall, heading straight toward him. Much to Alec’s concern, Toby appeared agitated.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded of the younger knight.
“Where’s Lord Brian?” Toby countered.
“Resting,” Alec passed a glance into the room. “What’s happened?”
Toby took a deep breath. “Lady Rachel delivered a dead son a few minutes ago. Lady Celine is with her now, but your wife was present at the birth and she is…. well, she is hysterical, Alec. I returned her to her chamber.”
“Christ,” Alec muttered, passing another long glance at his father.
Brian was looking at him, his pale face even more ashen.
Alec waited for his father to bound out of the chair and demand to see the dead infant, as he had with the other two children Rachel had delivered, but instead his turned his head away and Alec swore he saw the great shoulders heave in sorrow.
Swallowing his own grief, Alec softly closed the door. “You mentioned that mother is with Rachel?”
Toby nodded. “Aye.”
“Where is Paul?”
“Olphampa and Sula are comforting him.”
“What of Thia?”
“With Lady Celine.”
Alec nodded shortly, relieved that he was not given the duty of comforting his dim-witted brother.
Paul could barely comprehend what was transpiring and there was no talking sense into him.
Alec knew this for a fact; he had tried on two previous occasions to ease his brother’s grief, but it was beyond Paul’s capacity to accept consolation and move beyond his pain.
Alec had quite enough pain of his own at the moment.
“Tell Pauly my father is in need of a soothing potion for his heart when the circumstances allow,” he said quietly, already moving down the hall with Toby by his side.
“Furthermore, I want you to personally see to the containment of the Warringtons; they need watching. As for me, I am going to see my wife.”
The men split up at the top of the staircase.
Alec continued down the corridor, mentally bracing himself for the confrontation that was to come with Ivy and wondering in a moment of weakness if he should not simply follow through with his original plan.
After all, Ali and Ivy could be married and flee until such a time when it was safe to surface again.
Mayhap by that time, the Warringtons would forget about the de Fluornoys and time would have healed over any enmity.
Alec was terribly torn; his loyalty to Ali, his loyalty to his father.
He had already disobeyed his father’s wishes once regarding the de Fluornoys; were he to do it twice, he wondered if Brian would be so forgiving.
Right or wrong, Brian was still his father and as his son, he was obligated to obey.
He was met by Jubil at the door. Her eyebrows rose at the sight of him. “Do you know what your mother did? She forced Peyton to witness the birth of a dead child!”
Alec eyed the woman and pushed his way into the room, his gaze falling on the sleeping form of his wife. Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed and put a soothing hand to Peyton’s head, his face terribly tender.
“Jubil gave her a potion to soothe her nerves and it put her to sleep,” Ivy said softly.
Alec tore his eyes away from his wife long enough to look at the blond sister, seated in a chair by the bed. Out of guilt, he could not maintain his gaze and turned back to his wife.
“Her eyes are red,” he whispered.
“She was hysterical, Alec,” Ivy said quietly. “What did you expect? She has never attended a birth before.”
Alec stroked the red hair and Peyton sighed raggedly in her sleep.
He would have liked to have sat by her all afternoon, caressing her beautiful head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Ivy and he knew he must deliver the news of her future.
The sooner the better, and considering Peyton was passed out like a drunkard, he would be better able to deal with Ivy alone.
Kissing the red head tenderly, he rose from the bed and motioned to Ivy.
“I have a need to speak with you,” he said softly.
Dutifully, Ivy rose and went to him, her pretty face expectant.
Jubil took her place next to Peyton and began singing a faint, sweet lullaby, and Alec recognized it as the same melody his wife had sang to him the previous night in the monastery.
The warmth of the memory filled him for a moment, a sweet flicker of time when he and Peyton had been closer emotionally than he had ever been to anyone.
But Ivy was waiting and Alec gazed into her blue eyes, faltered on his words, and tried again.
“Ivy, something has occurred,” he said softly.
He had decided that being honest was the very best option he had, and he grasped her arm gently as he spoke.
“My father has been speaking with Nigel Warrington and, needless to say, the man is quite angry over the broken betrothal. However, he and my father agreed on several valid points, one being that you would be an excellent chatelaine for Wisseyham Keep since Nigel is a widow and there are no female relatives to fill the position. Secondly, Colin is heir to a substantial fortune and you, as his wife, would be in a far greater social position than if you were the wife of a mere soldier.”
Ivy’s face darkened immediately and she jerked her arm free from his grasp. “I do not want to marry Colin. I want to marry Ali and I shall. You said….”
“I know what I said, but that was before my father had a chance to dwell on your future. He feels that he is providing you with the very best possible life by wedding you to Colin, a life of prominence and wealth, whereas with Ali, you would have none of this. He must do as he believes your father would have wanted and….”
“My father hated the Warringtons!” Ivy shrieked. “They pleaded for Peyton’s hand several years ago and father refused them outright! He would have never wed me to Colin!”
Jubil overheard everything; it was difficult not to. Swiftly, she rose from her seat by Peyton and stood beside her youngest niece. “She cannot marry the Warrington heir, Alec. She already carries a black son and the child will not fare favorably in the House of Warrington.”
Both Alec and Ivy looked at the old woman as if she were mad.
Alec almost responded but caught himself, focusing on Ivy in an attempt to calm her before she flew out of control.
“I realize what this appears, that my father is weak and easily swayed, and that his word cannot be trusted. But I assure you that this is not the case; my father is a wise, intelligent man and he must do for you as he decides best. You might not agree with him, but given time you will understand his actions.”
Ivy was ashen. Her mouth hung open and she took another step back from him. “He has already promised me, hasn’t he? He only pretended to relent and sent Ali away on a false errand so that he would be out of the way while the real marriage took place.”
Alec shook his head. “Not at all. He was sincere when he sent Ali for the lawyer. However, he has had time to think and has come to the conclusion that ’twould be best that you to marry Colin and become chatelaine of Wisseyham.”
“No!” Ivy roared. “I shall not marry him! I shall kill him first!”
Alec was calm, watching the woman work up a wild rage.
He kept recollecting Peyton’s words, how Colin raped young girls and left children to die, and how Nigel himself had raped Jubil even if they could not prove it.
He also remembered the scene in the bailey when Colin had moved threateningly toward Peyton, and it was apparent that he was not a man of mercy or conscience.
Even if Ivy could hold her own against him in a fight, he seriously doubted she could survive to a ripe old age in the House of Warrington.
Being an aggressive woman was one strike against her, but being a de Fluornoy was a death sentence.
All of Alec’s indecision left him. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that he could not be a party to the misery of his wife’s sister.
Nor could he betray his friend. There was far more to this than he could comprehend and his head was spinning already from the enormity of events, but he could understand one thing quite clearly; Ivy could not marry Colin.
Family loyalty! He turned away from Ivy, clenching his fists as his eyes fell on Peyton.
Christ, she was his family now, was she not?
She and St. Cloven were his, no matter what his father said or did, even if saving Ivy from the slimy grip of Colin Warrington cast an irreversible shadow on his relationship with Brian.
He loved his father, as much as a son could love a father, but he could not allow such a horrible transgression to take place with his full knowledge.
How would he ever explain Ivy’s betrothal to Peyton when he himself did not fully understand?
His father had asked him to trust him; he did trust him.
Undeniably. But in this matter, he trusted his instincts more.
He had to remove Ivy before the Warringtons could get their claws into her.
He reached out and grasped Ivy, forcing her to look at him. “Do you trust me?”
Ivy was fully prepared to punch him in the nose and curse him, but the look in his eyes was so intense that she stopped in mid-rage. There was something in his gaze…. “Aye, I do.”
His jaw ticked as he released her. “Then pack a small satchel. I shall return shortly and do not let anyone through that door but myself or Toby. Do you understand? Not even my father.”
Ivy nodded unsteadily and he moved to the door with determination, his gaze resting on his wife once more as he realized that he was about to commit an offense against his father not merely for the loyalty of a friend, but for the happiness of a newly acquired relative.
He was doing it for his wife. God help him, he was willing to risk everything for her.
The door slammed and the room shook to the rafters. Ivy bolted the oak panel as if to lock out the Devil himself.