Chapter Thirteen #2
With Jubil in one of the wagons, Peyton found herself riding alone with Toby and several men at arms. In spite of his mother’s anger, Toby felt compelled to accompany his brother to his new keep, if only for the fact that he knew Alec would sorely miss Ali’s organizing presence.
While Alec tended to other concerns, Toby would see to the security of his new keep.
In truth, he looked forward to the task; he’d not had a chance to prove himself to his brother with Ali’s constant presence.
He was eager to further establish his responsible nature by confirming to Alec that he was a mature, capable knight.
Though it was never Alec’s intention, Toby was positive his older brother still viewed him as an eager young lad with bucked teeth and a knack for trouble-making.
Even if he was a fully grown man, Alec still saw him as his younger brother and Toby was certain the opportunity before him would sway his brother’s opinion.
As the caravan traveled into the night, Alec was having better luck controlling the Saracen. The animal seemed to be calming somewhat and he was considering remounting Midas when a soft voice floated up beside him.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?”
He looked down to see his wife smiling up at him, the coarse road crunching under her delicate slippers. His first reaction was to sternly direct her back to her palfrey, but he found that he could not. It was nearly the first smiling face he had seen all day.
He reached out and took her hand. “Who allowed you to dismount?”
“Toby,” she said. “’Tis amazing what a bit of sweet-talking can accomplish.”
He raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Do not think to turn your feminine wiles on my younger, weaker-willed brother. You will ruin him.”
She snickered. “I will not. But, in truth, he is terribly cute when he blushes. He turns red enough to ignite kindling.”
Alec fought off a grin, gazing to the head of the column where Toby rode astride his chestnut destrier, dutifully leading Peyton’s palfrey beside him. He shook his head. “You are an aggressive, terrible woman to take advantage of a noble knight. He’d do anything for you regardless of my wrath.”
Her smile abruptly faded and she lowered her gaze, watching the road beneath her feet. Alec studied her bowed head and squeezed her hand gently. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, preparing to evade his question, but she remembered well their mutually spoken requests of honesty. She swallowed and brushed at the threatening tears. “’Tis just…. that’s what your mother called me.”
His own smile vanished. Leaving the Saracen to nibble on his alfalfa, he whisked his wife across the moving caravan to where Midas was tethered.
Deftly, he mounted her astride the plodding horse and bolted on behind her.
With a clucking noise, he reined Midas to the very front of the column, away from the others.
Once alone, he kissed her head, her cheek, and the top of her ear. Peyton sighed raggedly, collapsing against him.
“I do not want you to fret over my mother’s words,” he said softly. “She was angry, a state which consumes her quite often, and she habitually says things that she does not mean. You must remember that.”
“She hates me,” she whispered.
He sighed deeply, hearing the song of a distant night bird. “Nay, she does not. She is simply overwrought with the turn of recent events.”
Peyton did not say anything for a moment. “Did your father truly disinherit you?”
“So he says. That will remain to be seen.”
“Is that why you were gone so long this evening? You said that you were merely going to see to your horses and nothing about speaking with your father.”
“’Twas my intention to secure my Saracens and assemble a traveling party, which I did. The confrontation with my father was secondary.”
“Confrontation?”
He snorted softly. “Indeed. After the lashing he’d been dealt by the Warringtons, it was inevitable that he would come after me with a vengeance. I half-expected the Warrington dogs to hound me as well.”
“Why should they? They have Thia now.”
He did not say anything for a moment. “Not if I can think of a way to release her from her bind.”
“But what of your father? You said yourself he’d kill you if you interfered again.”
“Figuratively. Well, mayhap literally. At any rate, I cannot allow my only sister to be swallowed up by those bastards.” He did not say anything about her dislike for men, or how Colin’s marital rights would be received by a woman who disliked the male species.
But he couldn’t help ponder the valid question.
The only answers he seemed to come up with were ugly, violent scenarios.
The mood had grown far too heavy for Peyton’s tastes and she could feel the weight of Alec’s melancholy like a blanket.
He was trying too hard to pretend that all would be well, eventually, when in fact a great rift had risen between him and his family.
And through it all, she knew she was the cause.
Aye, everything he had done had been for her, she knew that. She’d never asked, nor had there ever been a spoken word between them on the subject, but she knew just the same. He said once that he would die for her. He would do anything for her. She believed him unquestionably.
She sat up, twisting slightly to look at him under the three-quarter moon. A faint smile creased her lips. “Were you given the choice, whom would you send to the Warringtons? Thia or me?”
He did not hesitate. “You.”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow.
He cracked a smile as she made faces at him in the moon glow, anything to splinter his rigid expression. She laughed softly when he crossed his eyes like a goon in response to her hideous expressions.
“I have caused you much trouble, my Alec. Mayhap I should present myself to the Warringtons as a peace offering and then all would be right between you and your family again.”
His smile vanished. He pulled her against him, tightly, and she sighed deeply with his comfort. “You are my family.”
High above them against the silk black sky, an owl soared across the moon.
*
St. Cloven was softly lit by a scarce few torches as the party approached.
A few bellowed words from Alec to the sentries at the gate prompted the massive oaken panel to slowly groan open.
And as the gate began to yawn wide for its new master, St. Cloven soldiers went scurrying inside the manse with news that Alec Summerlin and his wife, the Lady Peyton, were returned.
Alec had brought seventy-five men-at-arms with him from Blackstone, elite soldiers that he personally claimed, men who had fought with him and his father in the Holy Land.
They were men who knew Alec before his vow had stilled his sword.
The only knight he had brought was Toby, the others having sworn fealty to his father and were therefore required to remain at Blackstone.
But one knight was all he needed as Toby took charge of the men with unmistakable authority and Alec was pleased with his little brother’s fortitude.
Peyton was asleep in front of Alec when he rode through the gates, an unusual deep sleep. But she quickly roused when he gently shook her awake and Jubil was at her side when she dismounted Midas. Clearheaded, Jubil insisted on escorting the groggy Peyton inside while Alec saw to his men.
Gratefully, Alec was able to focus on the positioning of his sentries.
With the Warringtons’ fury, he wasn’t at all sure that they would not try to take what they had been denied and he would not be caught unaware.
In fact, as he watched his wife and her aunt retire to the great hulking manse of St. Cloven, he considered writing Edward to request more soldiers.
He wanted to make sure Peyton and St. Cloven were safe.
After she disappeared inside, he forgot his wife for the moment and went about inspecting his keep.
As Toby saw to the unloading of the wagon, Alec supervised the settling of his excitable Saracens and made sure Midas was liveried.
With the animals made comfortable, he moved on to the soldier’s accommodations.
The team-house where the small force of St. Cloven was housed was a well-kept place, if not a bit cramped.
Alec and Toby solved the space problem as his men settled in, and then the two knights proceeded to move about the entire perimeter of the keep to inspect the wall, her weaknesses, and her strengths.
As Alec talked, Toby yawned, and Alec dismissed his sheepish brother with a slap to the back of the head.
Alec knew it was late to be attempting a task that could be just as easily completed in the morn, but he was so excited to be home that he simply could not contain himself. His home.
He forced himself away from the fortified wall and on to the immediate tasks that could not wait until daybreak. When the caravan was completely disassembled and the wagon was on its way to the livery to be stowed, he decided to seek his bed for the remaining hours of the night.
The interior of St. Cloven smelled wonderful and warm, not at all like the stale halls of Blackstone.
His former home possessed a distinct must, whereas St. Cloven smelled of cedar and fresh rushes, and he noticed the intricately worked cedar posts in the archway of the great hall and the large solar.
In fact, nearly every room possessed a cedar door and related cedar work, and he inhaled the scent deeply.
He remembered the smell from his childhood as peculiar and strong, but now he thought it to be delightful.
He heard footfalls behind him, whispers against the stone, and turned to face the approaching party. Jubil’s fair face gazed up at him.
“Toby is in the chamber immediately at the top of the stairs,” she told him. “I thought you would want him situated to protect the stairwell.”
“Wise, my lady,” Alec said quietly. “And where is my wife?”