“With good reason,” Alec agreed. “Hideous!”
She laughed softly, pleased that she and Ivy had been able to accomplish a small part of their grand scheme. However, she realized she was pleased that the overall attempt had failed.
In spite of every tumultuous feeling she had experienced, she was beginning to feel comfortable with Alec in a completely different sense than she had felt comfortable with James. It was difficult to describe the dissimilarities, but she knew one thing; she liked Alec’s arms around her. She liked being enfolded in his huge, strong body, whereas James had been considerably smaller. His embraces had not been nearly so satisfying and she thought herself wicked for thinking poorly of him.
“How is your head?” Alec asked after a moment.
“Rebelling against me,” she said softly. “Does Pauly truly have a potion to make the ache stop?”
“Pauly has a potion for everything,” Alec said frankly. “After I put you to bed, I shall go and see him.”
“Jubil has a potion for everything, too, only her concoctions seem to be limited to things like love potions and virility and childbirth elixirs. Not exactly the kinds of brews I find useful.”
“You may have need of a childbirth elixir if we are so blessed in the future,” Alec said thoughtfully. “Unless, of course, you would rather be quite manly about the whole thing and shun all forms of relief. Pain is terribly male.”
She rolled her eyes at his awful sense of humor.
“Alec, you are a beast. Take me to my room immediately before this conversation goes any further.”
He laughed softly and rose, pulling her up with him. “I know for a fact you are most courageous. Birthing a child should be nothing to a woman like you. You should be able to recite poetry, sew a bedrug and slug it out with Thia between labor pains.”
She pulled herself from his embrace and mounted the stairs. “And get up immediately afterward and plant an entire crop of summer vegetables. How terribly rugged I am.”
“Terribly. I think I am afraid of you.”
“You should be,” she mounted the last step into the corridor and Alec paused a moment. Suddenly, their last two sentences took on an entirely different meaning.
He truly was afraid of her and with good reason. It would be too easy to develop feelings for her beyond fondness and he absolutely refused to love a woman; any woman. Love was a weak emotion and he had no desire to become swept up in its fickle torrents.
In faith, the frightening thought had not occurred to him until just now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Peyton awoke toIvy’s snores late the following morning. Her head felt fine and her body refreshed, full of vigor in spite of having been jolted awake by her sister’s loud breathing. After a sound sleep, the world appeared a little brighter, a little clearer. Gazing at her sister’s contented face, she couldn’t seem to remember when Ivy had come to join her during the night. For all Peyton knew, Ivy had been out until dawn with the black soldier.
But none of that mattered any longer as Ivy snored softly. She was returned and she was whole. As Peyton stared at the sleeping face, she thought mayhap an apology for their bitter words was unnecessary; better to simply forget the incident. She was more than willing to forget their hostilities and hoped Ivy was, too.
With an evil, sleepy grin, she leaned over and blew softly in her sister’s ear. Ivy fidgeted and slapped a hand over her head and Peyton proceeded to nibble at the back of her hand with sharp white teeth until Ivy twitched and rolled onto her back.
Peyton held back the giggles. “Lady Ivy,” she said in a mockingly deep voice. “My sweet wanton, how luscious is your unclothed body.”
Ivy peeped one eye open at her sister, who burst out in loud laughter. Regardless of the fact that she had just been annoyed out of a deep sleep, Ivy smiled. “And you, my delicious brown warrior, taste as good as you look. How delectable is your….”
“Stop!” Peyton cried, choking on her laughter. “Say no more. I do not want to know what you may have sampled.”
Ivy closed her eyes tightly and began to thrash about. “No more, I cannot stand it! Your hands to my….!”
“Ivy!” Peyton pleaded.
“…. breasts as you….!”
“Ivy!”
“…. attempt to milk me like a cow!”
Peyton smacked her sister on the rump and rolled off the bed with disgust. “Ivy, you are an uncouth trollop. I will not hear what he has done to you, do you understand?”
Ivy propped herself up on Peyton’s pillow. “I never said he did anything to me,” she raised an eyebrow at the tattered edges of Peyton’s shift spilling from beneath the silk robe. “But why, may I ask, is your shift torn?”
