“Well enough, considering,” Ivy replied, matching his smile.
Ali’s gaze roved her lovely features a moment, still reeling with his good fortune. He was amazed that every day, every hour, brought increasing acceptance from his betrothed. It was as if he were living a dream; he kept expecting to wake up and discover it all to have been a wonderful fantasy.
“Might I speak with your sister, sweet?”
Ivy stood back and motioned him into the room. Peyton turned her attention to the black soldier and he smiled.
“Greetings this day, demoiselle. How is your hand?”
“Aching a bit.”
“And your head?”
“Except for the lump, it is well.”
Ali nodded with satisfaction, noting that she had changed from her blood-stained gown into a garment of bright yellow linen. It was a beautiful dress of soft layers, very flattering to her white skin. Her glorious red hair was pulled off her face with a matching ribbon and he thought she looked particularly fragile this day. But he had come for a reason, not to gawk at the lady’s beauty.
“I have been sent to escort you, if you would be so gracious as to accompany me.”
Without question, Peyton rose and followed Ali to the door. Ivy, seeing that she was about to be left alone, looked rather sad until Ali stroked her cheek gently. “I shall return for you shortly, sweetling.”
Peyton, in spite of her depressed mood, saw an opportunity to taunt her sister and she would not pass it up. Ali’s tone was so sickly sweet that she could not resist mouthing “sweetling” to her sister as the soldier preceded her into the corridor. Ivy made a menacing face and stuck her tongue out, bringing a smile of genuine humor to Peyton’s lips. White or black, Ali was a man and Peyton was compelled to tease Ivy as if he were any other suitor.
She did not utter a word of inquiry as the dark soldier took her outside into the late afternoon heat, and she still did not voice her puzzlement when he took her into the stable yards. Not until he led her into the quiet dimness of the livery did she look to him questioning.
“Ali, why have you brought me here?”
He smiled gently. “Someone wishes to have a word with you, demoiselle.”
Her brow furrowed just as Alec stepped from the shadows. He was dressed in a heavy traveling tunic and a leather overvest. In fact, he was dressed exactly as she had seen him the morning he had found her in the woods.
“Greetings, my lady,” he said softly.
Immediately, her pulse began to race but she held her ground, refusing to allow him to see how apprehensive she was. She stared at him a moment before turning to Ali.
“Is this why you brought me here? I have nothing to say to him.”
“But I have a good deal to say to you,” Alec said softly, gently. “Would you allow me the privilege before you turn your back on me?”
“Why?” she spat, making sure to meet his eye. “You would not give me the courtesy of explaining myself before you were breaking tables and hurling chairs. Why should I show you any consideration at all?”
“Because you are far more gracious and wise than I am, my lady. I only ask a brief moment of your time. Please.”
She was shaking with emotion, gazing bitterly into his blue eyes. Her taut body and angry expression told him that she was still furious with him, as well she should be, and he fought the urge to drop to his knees and plead for mercy.
Peyton tore her eyes away from his sorrowful orbs and studied his clothing. As her attention was occupied, Alec motioned Ali away with a faint nod and the soldier discreetly vacated the stable.
“Where are you going?” she asked after a moment.
“Away,” he replied honestly. “But I wish to speak with you before I go.”
Away?Suddenly Peyton did not like the idea of him leaving. Where was he going? Angry or not, confused or not, she did not want him to leave.
“Speak then,” she said shortly.
His gaze lingered on her a moment and she felt the familiar heat from his attentions, but she ignored it. This was not the time for such feelings, as delicious as they could be.
Alec knew this was probably his one and only chance to apologize and he chose his words carefully. “Although I know my actions this day were inexcusable, mayhap you will allow me to give you a bit of insight. As I said before, the church considers Ali less than a man and therefore will not admit him into knighthood. In fact, the only people who ever considered Ali an equal are the men he served with as a warrior, men who have seen his bravery and brilliance. Women, on the other hand, have been very cruel for the most part,” his voice softened. “Ali and I grew up together, fostered together, and I can honestly say I never knew an English lady who looked at Ali as a man. They considered him a freak, something to be laughed and gawked at. I remember one time at a celebration at Roby Castle in Yorkshire, Ali approached a young lady and asked her to dance. She immediately laughed in his face and announced quite loudly that she did not associate with apes. Her friends joined in the laughter and began mocking him terribly. Ali simply smiled, bowed crisply in thanks, and walked away. I wanted to kill the wench, but Ali let the insult roll off his back as if it mattered not. But it mattered a great deal.”
