“I weep because I did not wish to see you speared,” she said coldly. “I am past weeping for the man I loved.”
A flash of emotion rippled across his controlled face and he vaulted off the mattress. His jealousy bloomed at her words, angered to hear that she loved another man. But he had always known she had loved her betrothed; why should her repeated declaration upset him so? Unbalanced, he moved for the door, anything to be free of her presence and his confusion.
“Then go to sleep and try to forget. And dream of your dead love if it comforts you.” He could scarce believe he added the last sentence, purely out of spite.
Peyton glared at him, confusion and anger of her own filling her full. Her response was borne purely from malice, for she had no doubt that he had meant to hurt her with his unfair questions. “It does, thank you. I am glad you understand that.” Once, the statement had been true. But no longer.
Stung, Alec threw open the door and slammed it heavily in his wake. Peyton continued to stare at the door, her chest constricting with bitterness and puzzlement as she pondered their exchange of words.
Why couldn’t she have been honest with him and tell him that the reason why she had become hysterical over the brawl was because she couldn’t stand to live without him? Why couldn’t she have been honest with him?
Exhausted and sick, she fell back on the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling more confusion and ache than she ever had.
When she dreamt, she dreamt of Alec.
CHAPTER TEN
The morning dawnedheavy with a humid mist and Peyton was glad for the protection of her nearly-shunned cloak. It kept the moisture from her face as she and Alec plodded along the deserted road, no more than three of four words spoken between them all morning. He was brooding and silent and so was she, each puzzled by their feelings and unspoken truths. What should have been their wedding night had been an empty, desolate thing.
Alec had consumed far too much of the cheap ale after leaving Peyton alone in their room and was sporting a horrible headache. Every blow of Midas’ hooves intensified the ache, matching the pain in his heart. His mood was as gray as the weather.
The road was void of activity, not even a peasant crossing their moody path. Alec’s arm around his wife’s slender waist was unmoving and uncomforting, and Peyton would have rather walked than face his coldness. But she was showing signs of coldness herself, confused with the turn of events the night before and increasingly curious as to where he had spent the night. He certainly hadn’t slept with her.
She shifted on his hard thighs and his grip unconsciously tightened to prevent her from falling off the horse. She stiffened when he reacted to her movement, for her anger had not abated in the least since last night and she hoped her taut body would convey her fury. For good measure, she attempted to sit forward and put a barrier of separation between their bodies, but unfortunately, there was nowhere for her to go on the limited saddle.
“If you shift any further, you are going to fall off,” his voice was cold. “Remain still.”
“I want to walk,” she snapped irritably, trying to wriggle free. “Let me down.”
“Nay, lady, for it will only slow our return. You will continue to ride with me.”
She did not want to be cradled against his stiff body any longer and her struggles increased. “Put me down, Alec, I demand it.”
Instead of refusing, he suddenly removed his arm and she fell to the ground, landing on her bottom. Grunting with the dull smarting on her backside, she rose to unsteady feet as Alec reined Midas to a halt several feet away.
His gaze was unreadable. Before she could rage at him, he turned Midas down the road and continued on.
Peyton watched him ride down the deserted road, wondering to what lengths his anger would go. Would he leave her if she were to fall far behind? Or would he demand she remount? Feeling the need to test him, for whatever reason, she sat down on a stump and continued to watch as Alec and Midas rode out of view.
So he would leave her. Miffed, she angrily batted at her skirt where bits of leaves clung to the material. The night’s events repeated themselves in her mind, thoughts of Alec’s warmth as he introduced her as his wife, how his hand never left her evenas they ate supper. His voice had been tender when he spoke to her, his manner affectionate and kind. And, he had bared his soul as they waited in the private chamber of the monastery. The protectiveness, the attachment she felt for him, went beyond words. Not even James had warranted such strong emotion and she wondered why she should feel so strongly toward Alec when she professed to love James. Mayhap she hadn’t loved James after all. Mayhap, in truth, she loved Alec.
Her sapphire blue eyes gazed down the road, barren since Alec had disappeared. Why couldn’t she have told him the truth last night, admitting her true feelings? The only time James had ever entered her mind during the scuffle had been when she feared that Alec would end up impaled in the very same fashion. Other than that brief recollection, she’d barely thought of the man at all since her introduction to Sir Alec Summerlin.
She closed her eyes with regret; she had been so wrong to reprimand him when he had only meant to protect her. Her fear had raged and she had snapped at him when she should have thanked him. Gathering her skirts and swallowing her pride, she commenced down the road after her husband, hoping he would forgive her rash nature.
Not five minutes later, she met Alec as he back-tracked his steps. His gaze upon her was emotionless as always and she swallowed hard, summoning the courage to apologize for becoming angry on their wedding night.
“Are you ready to ride?” he asked.
She watched him for a moment. “Do you hate me overly, Alec?”
He met her gaze, pure blue to sapphire blue. “Nay, I do not.”
“But you are angry.”
His gaze faltered for the first time and he looked away, studying his hands, the scenery. “And I should not be?”
She shook her head. “You have every right to be furious. I am sorry I scolded you, and I am sorry for what I said. And…. and I do not dream of James anymore.”
