Peyton passed an uneasy glance between Ali and Alec; Alec’s usually impassive face was unnaturally hard and he turned away, meandering aimlessly toward the barrels of aging ale. Peyton watched his stiff back, his massive hands clenching and unclenching. Obviously, he was displeased with Ivy’s lack of acceptance in the matter. But she hardly blamed her sister.
“Sir Alec, mayhap you should reconsider my sister’s betrothal,” she said as politely as she could. “She is, after all, a lady of noble breeding and deserving of such consideration. Meaning no disrespect to your…. soldier, but is my sister not entitled to an English husband?”
“I am English,” Ali’s voice was low. “God’s Blood, woman, I told you I was born and raised in England. I have fought for our king. What more proof do you require?”
Peyton’s gaze moved from Alec to Ali. Her expression was open, protective, and mayhap the least bit remorseful. Although her nature was independent and, occasionally blunt, she had become aware earlier that the black man before her was vibrant with emotion and feeling. Even if she wasn’t fully convinced that he was a true man in every sense of the word, she had no desire to injure his feelings with the realities of their obvious difference. His dark countenance aside, he was still a mere soldier. Not even a knight.
As she struggled for a tactful reply, Ivy moved from behind her.
“You are not English,” she accused sharply. “I have never seen a black Englishman. Your skin is black like the feathers of a raven. Certainly it is not white like mine, or my sister’s, or Sir Alec’s. I refuse to marry a man with such limited intelligence!”
Alec whirled toward Ivy, the veins on his neck throbbing. He appeared sincerely intent on doing Ivy great harm and Peyton was terrified for her sister’s safety. But one look from Ali was all that was required to steer Alec away from the blond woman, and he resumed his wandering toward the barrels of ale with reined agitation. Peyton could see his jaw ticking.
Ali, however, was quite calm. Far calmer than he had been when he and Peyton had first exchanged words in the forest. He focused on Ivy intently.
“What gives you the impression that the color of my skin is indicative of my intelligence?” he asked quietly. “I am far more intelligent than most of my white counterparts, Alec Summerlin included. He will vouch for this.”
Alec could feel the stares of the two women on his back, waiting for confirmation. Fighting to calm his natural anger for the insults dealt to his friend, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Ali was the best student amongst the pages while we were fostering,” his voice was strangely tight. “He can figure the most difficult mathematics in his head, he can decipher Greek, French, Latin and Arabic without any effort whatsoever. My strengths lie in finances and other areas, but his skills and knowledge in the aforementioned subjects can put the most learned scholars to shame. He is anything but simple.”
Peyton looked to Ali, struggling against the disbelief that threatened. Ivy, however, was not so discreet. She was still focused on Alec. “There are horses and pigs that harbor intelligence, too.”
Alec’s thinly-held control slipped and he moved toward Ivy, his ears mottled with flush. “Ali is not an animal. If I hear you refer to him in that manner again, I shall….”
“Alec,” Ali grabbed his friend by the arm, cutting off his advance. He shook the massive man, forcing his focus away fromthe object of his fury. “I shall deal with my future wife, if you please. There is no need for your intervention.”
Alec’s jaw ticked as he struggled to rein his anger. “Christ, Ali, I should have known….”
Ali cut him off with a faint smile, a hard squeeze to the arm. “Be quiet, my friend. What occurs between Lady Ivy and myself is none of your concern.”
Alec stared at him, a degree of helplessness crossing his features. “Do not do this to yourself,” his voice came out a pleading whisper. “There will be other….”
Ali squeezed his arm again, one last time to effectively shut him down. “No more, Alec. I can handle my own affairs.” Calmly, he turned to Ivy. “Will you accompany me on a walk, demoiselle? ’Twould seem there are a great many things to discuss.”
Ivy shook her head firmly. “I shall not be seen with you. I do not want to have anything to do with you, you…. beast!”
Peyton averted her gaze from Ali as her sister insulted him. It was an insult meant for any man, however, not simply one with darker skin. Although her reaction to her betrothal to Alec had not been much different from Ivy’s reaction to Ali, there was a deeper element involved now than mere refusal. Ivy was cutting close to the soul with her sharp tongue. But Peyton was wise enough to take her cue from Alec; she would not intervene. Whatever happened would have to take place between Ali and Ivy alone.
“You will walk with me, demoiselle,” Ali said steadily. “I have a need to speak with you.”
Ivy’s shock and fear were wearing thin, replaced by a burning contempt. She fixed her heady blue gaze on him, her round body tense with fury. “I will not speak with you, as I have said. There is nothing to discuss.”
Ali’s black eyes were blazing embers as he took a step toward her, slowly and deliberately. He would not accept her rejection.In fact, contrary to his usual habit, he would do everything in his power to show her how wrong she was.
“You do not consider me suitable enough to be your husband,” it was a statement. “I will prove to you that you are mistaken.”
“What?” Ivy and Peyton responded in unison, horrified at the suggestion. Even as Peyton moved toward her sister as if to shield her from the black soldier, Alec reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Leave them alone, my lady,” his voice was soft, but his expression was taut. “Ali will do what needs to be done.”
Peyton opened her mouth to protest vigorously as Ali moved to Ivy, enclosing her elbow in a massive gauntlet. “Come along, demoiselle,” he said encouragingly.
Peyton was seized with apprehension, but Alec held her firm, preventing her from moving to protect her sister. When she sputtered a helpless cry, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Have faith, Lady Peyton. Your sister shall not be harmed in any way. I swear it.”
His hot breath sent rivers of heat down her spine and she found herself melting against him, fighting the liquid fire that threatened. Swallowing hard, she could only gaze impotently as her sister struggled against the dark warrior. Whether or not she wanted to, she believed Alec. She trusted him.
“But….” she licked her dry lips, highly aware of Alec’s searing body against her. “’Tis…. improper for them to be alone together, unescorted. I would prefer….”
