Chapter Seventeen #2
Edward cut her off gently. “No need to apologize, my lady. I quite understand.”
She smiled as she came up from her bowed gesture. “We had no idea to expect you so soon, Your Grace.”
Edward received her warmly. “Nor I, my lady. I was visiting your son when I heard of Paul’s unfortunate accident. Please accept my sympathies.”
Celine nodded graciously. “Thank you, Sire. If you would be so good as to come inside.”
As his mother led Edward toward the castle, Alec was suddenly aware that his father had not come out to greet them. Or Toby, for that matter. Celine and the king were engaged in pleasant conversation and he would not interrupt to demand trivial answers. Instead, he turned to Ali.
“See to dismantling the caravan and then take the ladies inside,” he grasped Peyton by the shoulders and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “Go and rest, love. I shall seek you shortly.”
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
He seemed preoccupied. “To find my father. And to make sure the Warringtons are corralled during Edward’s visit.”
He stormed off, jogging across the compound and entering the castle through a smaller door. Peyton watched him wistfully.
Ivy came up behind her as Ali went about disbanding the men. “So we have returned to the den of vipers,” she said softly.
Peyton cocked an eyebrow. “The Summerlins are not vipers.”
“I did not mean the Summerlins. I meant the Warringtons.”
Peyton’s gaze lingered on the black-stoned structure. “Alec will see that they do not bother us.”
“What about his fat sister?” Ivy wanted to know. “She hates you, too. After that incident with the serving wench….”
Peyton glanced at her sister, recollecting that she had told her of the most distasteful event some weeks back.
As always, she and Ivy had no secrets and she had sought reassurance that she had handled the situation correctly.
She wanted to make sure that if Alec’s sister was intent on maintaining their hateful relationship, it would not be because of something Peyton did, or did not do.
At the time, she had handled the circumstance as she saw rightly. Ivy had agreed.
“I can only pray that she has gotten over it,” she replied after a moment. “I should not like to be fighting her off at every turn.”
Ivy cocked a severe eyebrow. “Do not forget, darling. I am with you now. She won’t come within a foot of you.”
Jubil sauntered up beside them, looking amazingly lovely. Her faded blond hair was attractively arranged and her gown was clean and pretty. Her eyes were remarkably clear for a woman who had been entranced only the night before.
But her expression was taut. Peyton observed her aunt curiously. “What’s wrong, Jubil?”
Jubil shook her head faintly, her eyes never leaving the black castle. “Something is not right.”
“What’s not right?” Ivy asked.
Jubil pulled her shawl about her tightly as if to ward off a growing apprehension. “I smell a good deal of darkness. It’s everywhere.”
Ivy sighed sharply. “Are you flying again?”
Jubil shook her head firmly, much to their surprise. “Nay, little goats. Not today. What I smell can be sensed without the aid of a potent.”
The two women turned their attention to the massive structure. “What kind of darkness, Jubil?”
When their aunt did not answer, they turned to her with concern. Jubil was riveted to the bastion; suddenly, she shuddered involuntarily and turned away.
“You have got to leave, Peyton,” she whispered sharply. “You must demand that Alec return you to St. Cloven. ’Tis not safe for you here.”
Peyton and Ivy passed curious glances. “Why?” Peyton demanded softly, feeling herself being unwillingly pulled into her aunt’s anxiety.
Jubil inhaled deeply, her eyes closed as she attempted to regain some of her composure. But the talons of uneasiness refused to release her. Since the very moment they set foot inside the keep, she had been buffeted by the turbulent grasp of terror.
“Beware of the threat from within,” she suddenly whispered, sounding very much like the crazed woman they had come to expect. However, the insanity was not drug-induced this time. It was real. “The threat, Peyton, the threat! You must leave!”
Peyton went to her aunt, wrapping a comforting arm about her shoulders. “There is no threat, Jubil. Alec will protect me.”
Underneath her grasp, Jubil was shaking. She suddenly grabbed her niece by the arms, pushing her toward the gates. “Go, Peyton. Run home. Run home, sweetheart!”
Peyton tried to pull herself free of the insistent grasp.
“Stop pushing, Jubil. I am not going anywhere.”
Ali, in the midst of disassembling Alec’s elite guard, saw what was transpiring and left the duties to a senior sergeant. He came upon the two women quickly.
“What’s amiss, ladies?” he asked.
Peyton was having difficulty dislodging her aunt’s hand from her arm until Ali broke the grasp. “Jubil’s exhausted. Can we retire now, Ali?”
He opened his mouth to reply when Jubil suddenly turned on him, sinking her nails into his mahogany flesh. “She must leave, Ali. ’Tis not safe for her here!”
She had drawn blood, but he did not flinch as he disengaged her claws. “She is safer with Alec than with God himself, Jubil. Come, let’s get you inside.”
Jubil was quivering terribly. Peyton and Ivy passed concerned glances, wondering if their aunt wasn’t having a mental breakdown as a result of years of imbibing potions. With Ali firmly on one side and Ivy on the other, they began to move Jubil toward the castle.
Jubil did everything but drag her heels.
She pleaded, she coaxed, and she threatened.
Still, they refused to listen to her. Peyton’s life was depending upon what she was able to sense and distress overwhelmed her when she realized they were not taking her seriously.
The only person who ever remotely listened to her was nowhere to be found, and she began to beg to speak to Alec.
Still, they refused to listen. Peyton’s life was in serious jeopardy and no one believed her.
No one.
Her sense of desperation consumed her.
By the time they reached the cool innards of Blackstone, Jubil had worked herself into such a state that the moment she smelled the damp must, she fainted dead away in Ali’s arms.
Alec had preceded his mother and the king into Blackstone by several minutes, ample time to locate his father. Although his mother hadn’t mentioned his father’s mental state, a suspicion nagged at him, so much so that he had to find his father personally to quell his own apprehension.
His first destination was his father’s solar.
As he passed through the servant’s corridor and into the grand hall, several familiar faces greeted him.
The servants looked shocked and pleased to see Alec, but he brushed past them without acknowledgement.
By the time he hit the foyer, he heard a familiar voice calling to him and paused in his serious quest. Toby was moving toward him from the kitchens.
“Where’s my father?” Alec demanded. “Edward’s here, for Christ’s sake.”
Toby appeared fatigued. “Upstairs, in his private sitting room,” in his hand he carried a tray with bread and watered berry juice. “I was bringing this to him.”
“What’s the matter? Why did not he greet us?”
Toby sighed wearily. “Lord Brian has been drunk since Paul’s body was discovered yesterday. Mother is beside herself dealing with your father’s sorrow and Lady Rachel’s grief.”
Alec relaxed slightly, closing his eyes briefly in a sorrowful gesture. “Where are the Warringtons?”
“In your father’s solar,” Toby said quietly, passing a glance in the general direction. “Nigel acts as if he owns the damn place.”
Alec expression turned menacing. “No longer,” he growled. “I have had enough of this. Put down that tray and come with me. I may require your strength.”
Toby followed his larger, stronger brother across the foyer. The two of them burst into the solar with the force of a gale storm, rattling the castle to its very foundation as they threw open the heavy oaken door.
Nigel was seated behind Brian’s desk, leisurely sampling a fine bottle of wine. Near the lancet windows, Colin slanted the two intruders an intolerant glance.
“Do you not know how to knock, Summerlin?” he demanded.
Alec was closer to losing his temper than he had come in a long time.
He moved into the room, his handsome face tight with fury and his gaze hot enough to burn.
An unfortunate chair happened to be in his way; he destroyed the furniture with a kick, tossing the shattered remains aside and nearly taking off Toby’s head in the process. His fury, his disgust, was palpable.
Nigel leapt to his feet. Even Colin’s arrogant expression faded; he knew firsthand that Alec’s strength could be devastating and had no desire to experience another round.
“What do you do, Alec?” Nigel demanded, giving the man a wide berth. “How dare you burst in here and…!”
“This is my father’s solar, to be mine when I inherit the barony, and I shall do anything I damn well please,” his voice was like thunder.
“I have had enough of your presence at Blackstone. You have all but destroyed my family and I shall not stand for it any longer. Whether you leave this place by casket or by horse, ’tis all the same to me. But I want you out.”
Nigel stared at him. His face was pale, but his expression held. “Your father is the only one who can order us to leave. And he shall not do that, not until your sister weds my son.”
A second chair met with Alec’s furious fists in an obvious display of displeasure, sending both Colin and Nigel ducking for cover.
“Your son will not wed my sister, foremostly because I refuse to allow her to marry a murderer. Tell me, Colin; what did Paul see or hear that caused you to take his life?”
Near the lancet windows of the small room, Colin’s eyes widened at Alec’s presumption. “You are mad, Summerlin!”