“Alec, she cannot wed Colin,” Peyton grasped his arm. “You must talk to your father!”
“There is more,” Ali continued, his voice dull with emotion and fatigue. “Rachel went into labor last night. She is still laboring to bring forth a child Pauly believes to be dead and your mother is beside herself.”
Peyton put her hand to her head, closing her eyes and saying a brief prayer for the slight, dark-eyed woman. With tension and crisis surrounding them like a fog, she felt Alec’s arm go about her comfortingly and she collapsed into his warmth and strength. Yesterday, they had only been concerned with themselves and no one else, and Peyton suddenly felt very guilty and selfish. Tears stung her eyes with the enormity of the situation as she looked to Ali.
“Ali, I am so sorry,” she whispered. “Had I not gone with Alec, you and Ivy would now be married.”
He smiled weakly. “We shall be still. I plan to do what Alec has done; abduct my bride.”
Alec shook his head faintly. “It will not work. The church will not marry you, merely a lawyer, and therefore your marriage to Ivy could be dissolved on the grounds that it is a common law union.”
Ali’s ebony eyes flashed. “She is mine, Alec. Believe me when I say I have made the woman mine in every sense of the word and I will not stand by while she weds Warrington.”
Alec drew in a deep, slow breath, comprehending Ali’s meaning and knowing his disappointment all too well. He had been able to remedy his situation, but Ali was helpless and anger suddenly tore at him.
“Ali, take my wife into your safekeeping, please,” he gently removed Peyton from his waist and placed her hand in Ali’s. “I am going to speak to my father. You will bring my wife inside in a few minutes, but allow me a brief time alone with him first.”
“Be mindful that he is in a bitter mood. I have never seen him so dark, Alec.”
Alec did not reply, crossing the bailey with his proud, strong gait toward the entrance. Peyton and Ali watched a moment before turning to look at each other, silent words of apology and question and apprehension filling the space between them.
Ali smiled faintly. “So you are Lady Summerlin now? Congratulations, mademoiselle. May your union be blessed.”
Peyton glanced at Alec as he disappeared into the castle. “I am beginning to believe our marriage is already cursed,” she turned back to the ebony soldier. “How is Ivy faring?”
His smile faded. “Despondent. I have been not allowed to see her since early this morn.”
Peyton sighed with regret, wondering when the situation suddenly careened out of control. When she had left with Alec yesterday, it seemed as if they were to be the only people affected by their decision and she could see how their rash action was collapsing. Ali was affected, and Ivy, and the damnable Warringtons were being drawn into the circumstance. Having eloped was hazard enough, but now with the added concern of Rachel’s dead child, it would seem that the Summerlins had more to deal with than ever before.
But she did not regret her decision to marry Alec. And she knew he did not, either. Were she to repeat that moment in time, she would have done the same again.
Ali tucked her hand into the fold of his elbow and they began to stroll towards the castle, a leisurely pace to allow Alec time to deal with his father. And with the turmoil of the past night, theinner sanctum of the castle was far worse than the ninth level of hell.
Alec strode intohis father’s solar without bothering to knock. Brian was at his desk, his handsome face scrutinizing a sand-colored piece of vellum before him. When he heard the heavy boot falls he glanced up, surprise and rage washing his features.
“Alec!” he exclaimed.
“What is this I hear? You plan to wed Lady Ivy to the Warrington pup?”
Brian was up from his desk, moving towards his son as if to wring the living daylights out of him. But he came to an unsteady halt instead, no fists forthcoming even if he was mere inches from his son’s face. “Where’s Lady Peyton?”
Alec was undoubtedly cool, cooler still in his outrage. “My wife will be joining us shortly.”
Brian’s face mottled red underneath the silver and black beard and he turned away, dragging a hand over his face in a wretched attempt to control his fury. “Dear God, you married her. You married her after I dissolved your contract!” he whirled to his son, jabbing a thick finger at him. “You had no right, Alec! No right whatsoever and I swear to you that this is not the end of it. You were wrong to disobey me.”
Alec raised a slow, deliberate eyebrow. “I took what was mine and there is nothing you can do about it. The marriage contract is in my saddlebags and the union was consummated. She is my wife in the eyes of God and by the laws of England.”
Brian marched toward his son again. “By God, what have I ever done to cause you to go against me? Have I wronged you somehow? Have I humiliated you, cursed you? Why would you do this?”
“Because I want her,” Alec replied honestly. “Why are you so angry when I have forged a powerful alliance with St. Cloven, to say nothing of the Summerlin heirs Peyton will bear.”
Brian blinked sharply as if he had been struck. All of the color drained from his face and he suddenly looked very old and very tired. Turning somewhat unsteadily, he meandered to his desk and perched his wide bottom on the pointy edge, his brown eyes gazing pensively into the space of the room.
“’Twill be the only heirs the Summerlins are to have,” he said hoarsely, shoulders sagging. “Pauly says that Rachel’s child is dead.”
The fire had gone out of the confrontation and Alec was deeply sorry for the heartache he had caused his father. It was an added problem the man did not need, but he did not regret his action in the least. Still, he was remorseful for the turmoil he had brought down upon Brian’s shoulders. He and his father had always been exceedingly chummy and it pained him to see disharmony between them.
“Ali told me,” he replied quietly. “The child has not been born yet?”
