Ivy wasn’t merely chatting; she was actually pleasant. As Peyton watched with growing astonishment, she suddenly realized that Ivy was intent on pulling her into the conversation. She tried to ignore them, to avert her eyes and ears, but her path had already been chosen. Ivy sucked her sister into the dialogue.
“Peyton paints beautifully, too,” she told Ali. “You should see her work. Father wanted to sell a few of her portraits at the faire in Petersborough last year, but James would not allow it. Isn’t that right, Peyton?”
Peyton managed a disinterested shrug, maintaining her averted gaze. Ivy was suddenly contrite. “I am sorry, darling. I did not mean to bring up James.”
“Who is James?” Ali asked.
Peyton decided she would answer him, if only for Alec’s benefit. She was eager to reiterate her hatred of him. “The man I love. He was to be my husband, but he was killed. How unfortunate for me.”
Ivy sighed, regretful that she had mentioned the man. She glanced to Alec, noting his even expression as he gazed at theroad ahead and she found herself wondering if Peyton had informed him of her previous betrothal. Obviously, Alec wasn’t surprised or concerned with the topic.
“He sounds to have been a wise man. I would not allow my future wife to sell her wares like a common merchant, either,” Alec replied after a moment.
“But they’re beautiful,” Ivy insisted. “Have you not seen them?”
“I have. They will look marvelous displayed throughout St. Cloven and Blackstone.”
“I do not want them displayed,” Peyton muttered softly. “I want them to remain where they are. I shall not have people criticizing my work.”
“They will not criticize it, I assure you,” Alec said evenly. “They will be as enchanted with it as I am. ’Twould make me proud to exhibit my wife’s talent.”
“I am not your wife yet,” she grumbled, but he heard her and leaned close to her ear.
“Tomorrow at the latest we will see that situation remedied,” his breath was hot on her ear, sending involuntary shivers up her spine.
She did not reply, too angry and confused to form a response. Not only was she adamant in her desire not to marry the massive man seated against her, but she was aware that Ivy was acting most peculiar toward the black soldier. ’Twas almost as if she was growing comfortable with him.
If the world was upended before, it was most definitely spinning wildly out of control with the recent addition of Ivy’s behavior. Peyton was having difficulty comprehending all of it.
The group again rode silently for several minutes until Ivy struck up another conversation, hoping to alleviate the somber mood that had been pervasive since they had left St. Cloven. She had no idea that she could not have selected a worse subject.
“Why is it that you do not wear armor, Sir Alec?” she asked the massive blond man. “You are a knight, are you not? And you are unarmed, too. Why?”
Alec passed a glance at her. “It is true that I am a knight, but I gave up warring long ago. I prefer less-violent pursuits.”
“Weren’t you any good?” Ivy asked, remembering what Jubil had said about him but wanting to hear an explanation from his own lips.
Ali laughed softly at the question. “There was none better than Alec. No better knight in the realm, I assure you.”
“But you gave it up?” Ivy was still focused on Alec.
Alec did not reply and Ali sought to change the subject. “I find this portion of the country lovely, much nicer than London. Have you ever been to London, Lady Ivy?”
The conversation took an immediate turn and Alec was grateful. He had already alienated one lady this day and was close to distancing another had Ali not taken the helm. With Ivy distracted, he was better able to focus on the events of the day that had led to this point in time. What had started out as a most pleasant and promising day had decayed into a sullen, uncomfortable experience and he was aware that the change had taken place the moment he entered Peyton’s painting room.
He was puzzled but tried not to let Peyton’s attitude overly concern him. It would blow over like a storm, he told himself. Tomorrow she would forget all about whatever unpleasantries he managed to unearth. Her hostilities stemmed from her painful memories, he was sure. Mayhap in some way she blamed him, although he could not imagine why. But the more he tried to pretend her animosity did not matter, the more he realized that it did.
She was so stiff and unmoving in his arms, not at all like the sweet, heated bit of flesh he had kissed that morn. Every time he thought about the encounter his lips ached to kiss heragain and his arms yearned to hold her, seeking the fire that she kindled within his soul. She seemed to fit against him with odd familiarity and he wondered if the reaction would be the same when next he took her in his arms.
Distracted and silent, he found himself pondering that very question. He did not like the coldness between them.
Blackstone loomed into view not long thereafter, distracting the party from their moody thoughts. Black, haunting, strong, the edifice emerged in the distance like a great preying beast.
Ivy’s confusing behavior and her own resentment aside, Peyton found herself focusing on the massive black bastion with a good deal of apprehension. With all of her other concerns, the impending wrath of Alec’s father did nothing to offset her turmoil. She realized there was naught else to do but plead for the man’s mercy and pray his grace was infinite. She was so consumed with her turbulent thoughts that she was startled when hot breath delicately caressed her ear.
“I shall handle my father,” Alec said softly. “Simply agree with everything I say.”
“What are you going to say?” she asked, feeling her cheeks flush as he purred against her ear.
