Jubil merely blinked, her blue eyes gazing at Peyton but not truly seeing her. “The unhappy one. She is afraid of you.”
Peyton stared at her aunt a moment longer before letting out a hiss of exasperation; she had no time for such nonsense and moved to shut the door. As the door was nearly closed, she heard Jubil’s final utterance.
“Alec’s sister, sweetheart. She is afraid of you.”
The door shut softly and still Jubil sat, staring at the wall. Her eyes were dull and unfocused, but her mind was soaring above the clouds, unaware that her niece had vacated the room. Unaware that Peyton had indeed heard the hushed whispers of a madwoman.
Unnerved by Jubil’smuttering, Peyton fought to control her jitters and her anger as she went in search of her sister. She had no idea where to begin, truthfully, but it seemed most logical to begin in the solar where she had last seen her. The corridor and the stairs were void of servants as she made her way to Brian’s well-appointed room.
It was empty, as she knew it would be, but she felt a distinct sense of despair nonetheless. With a weary sigh, she moved to the great desk that contained Brian’s belongings and gazed absently at the papers and signet stamps. Her mind was exhausted and her head was still aching and, somberly, she deposited herself onto Baron Rothwell’s great hide-covered chair.
Ivy was with Ali, she had no doubt. It did not matter that Ivy had been defiant upon initially meeting her intended, fighting and cursing him every step of the way. That brief show of opposition had been the only sign of rejection Ivy would offer inher own defense; since the moment Ali had taken her away to converse in private, it was as if Ivy had been transformed.
Ivy had told her that she had not yet come to accept him as a true man, or as her betrothed, merely acknowledging that she was coming to tolerate his company. To Peyton, it appeared to be a far sight more than mere tolerance. It seemed to be infatuation.
Unfortunately, Peyton was still too wrapped up in her own confusion and depression to be able to spare her sister some much needed understanding. What she truly needed was her sister’s calm wisdom telling her that she was doing the right thing by marrying Alec Summerlin, but it was apparent Ivy cared for no one but herself.
Peyton thought about Ali for a moment, coming to the realization that her frustration wasn’t based on the fact that she found Ali repulsive or bestial; on the contrary, she was becoming rather curious about him in an odd sort of way. It occurred to her that she resented the fact that Ali seemed to be diverting Ivy’s attention when Peyton was in need of her. That, she discovered, was the foundation of her resistance. He was taking Ivy away from her.
Ivy was all she had in the world. With their father gone, there was no one left to console and support her, and hot, tired tears welled in Peyton’s sapphire eyes. She let them fall, feeling them bathe her cheeks in comforting warmth. It felt good to cry, to cleanse her puzzled soul, and the tears fell freely onto the tempting swell of her breasts. She was completely miserable.
Alec was strolling past the solar at that moment when he caught a snippet of a sob. On his way to bed after a long conversation with his father, he ignored the noise and continued onward until something inexplicably made him stop.
He had no idea why he should concern himself over a sniffle, but a peculiar hunch forced him to turn around and peer intothe solar. His sky blue eyes passed over the empty room and he nearly turned away until his sights came to rest on the top of a red head of unkempt curls. Half-shielded by the high back of the chair, he heard Peyton sob again.
“Peyton?” he asked softly, stepping into the room. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Startled, she wiped hastily at her cheeks as he approached. His concerned gaze left her stammering for a convincing answer. “N-nothing, my lord,” she hiccupped. “My head hurts s-still and I was walking a-and the ache has not gone away.”
He did not believe her for a moment. The woman who met him in a physical confrontation and matched verbal daggers with his sister suddenly looked extremely fragile seated in his father’s great chair. Her cheeks were damp and there were even tears on the luscious white rise of her beautiful breasts.
He stood over her, hands on his hips. “Pauly can give you something for the ache. It must hurt terribly if you are crying so.”
She nodded, afraid to answer because her lower lip was quivering; once she started crying, she could easily slide into a jag and carry on for hours. She was fearful that she would turn into a blathering fool if she tried to speak and hoped he would simply leave after receiving a satisfactory answer. Instead, he knelt before her and put his great hands on the arms of the chair, trapping her.
“Is that the true reason why you are crying? Or has something else upset you? Must I run a knave through for distressing you this night?”
She shook her head, wiping at the tears that refused to stop falling. It occurred to her that they might be here all night if she refused to answer him, and it furthermore occurred to her that he might know where Ivy had gone. There was one way to find out.
“D-do you know where Ivy is?” she sniffled.
He smiled faintly, the soft glow from the hearth caressing his masculine features. “Of course. She is with Ali and his parents. Is that what has you terribly upset? Then put your mind to rest and know that she is properly escorted and in no danger whatsoever.”
She took a ragged, deep breath and met his gaze for the first time. Another tear fell and before she could dash it, Alec reached out a thick finger and flicked it away. His gaze was terribly tender on her, his smile gentle, and she felt herself being drawn into his trap.
He was cold and insensitive, she reminded herself quickly. Remember his rebuff, his stinging indifference. Remember before you forget everything and allow yourself to believe him to be tender! And for God’s sake, remember James!
“Th-thank you,” she struggled to regain her composure as she tore her eyes away. “I-I can return to bed now, knowing she is safe.”
But he wasn’t moving and she was still trapped on the chair. When she dared to look at his face again, his expression was still soft.
“May I tell you something?” he asked.
Since he wasn’t moving, she made sure she was pressed flush against the back of the chair, far away from him. She hoped it was far enough. “What?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly closed it again. With an embarrassed little chuckle, he averted his gaze and stood up. “I was going to say that…. well, ’tis not important. Would you allow me to escort you back to your room, my lady?”
She should not have wondered, but she was curious with his sheepish manner. He almost seemed ashamed of what he was about to say and caught himself before he could humiliatehimself further. The focus of the conversation shifted as Peyton dried her tears.
