“With luck, he shall return in three or four hours,” Alec replied, noting the wistful tone of Ivy’s voice. “Have no fear, Lady Ivy. He shall return dragging the lawyer by his hair if it is the fastest way.”
From outside the thick stone walls there came a shouting, a chorus that was picked up by several other soldiers. Alec moved to the latticed windows, feeling the heat of the day grasping at his face as he gazed out over the bailey.
“What is it?” Peyton asked him.
He shook his head vaguely. “I am not sure. It looks like….” he suddenly broke off, taking a long look before whirling on his heel and marching for the door. Ivy and Peyton watched his sharp movements with concern.
“What is it, Alec?” Peyton demanded again.
To her distress, his face was as hard as stone. When he spoke, his tone was like ice. “It looks as if the Warrington’s have ridden even harder than Ali. They’re early.”
The sisters gasped and dashed to the window even as Alec jerked open the door. But he paused a moment, anticipating their reaction. He was far more concerned with their mental state than the anger that would surely come from the scorned family.
“Blue and black,” Peyton murmured. “The Warrington standard. See the preying cat?”
Ivy nodded. “Look! My God, there’s Colin Warrington himself in the very lead.”
Peyton jostled for a closer look. “Look at the pea-brained lout! And, Good Lord, Nigel has lost a good deal of hair. The last I saw him, he had a crown of sandy blond hair. Now it looks as if a blind man tried to shave his scalp.”
Satisfied to see that the appearance of the hated enemy had not turned either woman into hysterical females, he closed the door behind him and proceeded down the corridor.
Truthfully, their reaction did not surprise him; he was coming to learn that the de Fluornoy women were made of much stronger elements that most other females. Their bravery and gumption pleased him deeply, and he was far better able to focus on the coming conflict that was undoubtedly brewing.
His wife’s scorned suitor.
*
Brian and LadyCeline were caught up in the turmoil of Rachel’s labor and Alec could hear the woman moaning as he stood outside her bower, relaying the arrival of the Warringtons to his father.
Brian, pale-lipped and sweating, seemed to be having difficulty grasping the turn of events and Alec was concerned for his father’s sanity. He knew how desperately his father wanted a grandson, but the man was acting as if it were his very own child being born. Lady Celine, pale and drawn, made a brief appearance in the corridor and did not so much as utter a hostile word to Alec regarding his elopement. All of her energy, too, seemed to be focused on the impending child and she quickly disappeared into the bower when Rachel emitted a particularly pathetic groan.
It was plain to Alec that his father was incapable of handling this tense confrontation at the moment and he hastened to assure his father that he would handle the Warringtons until Brian’s composure returned. While his father retreated to his bower to freshen-up and regain his senses, Alec found himself down in the foyer preparing to greet the most unsavory guests.
Toby met him in the doorway, his young face flushed from the heat. “The Warringtons are early. We have not prepared….”
Alec cut him off. “I know. Where’s Jubil?”
Toby blinked at the change of subject. “Upstairs, I suppose. We returned a few minutes ago. What about the Warringtons?”
Alec watched the small procession enter the bailey, particularly scrutinizing the two men astride lavish chargers. The father and son dismounted, conversing between themselves and studying the interior of the bailey. Purposely, Alec let them wait.
“Toby, find Jacques and Horatio. Tell them to hasten the preparation of the chambers in the west wing for the Warringtons.”
“But those are the smallest, dingiest rooms in the…. oh,” Toby suddenly grinned, a gesture much like his older half-brother. “Anything else?”
“Notify the kitchens that our guests are early. Tell them we will delay dinner for three hours after the usual time.”
Toby continued to grin. “How terribly inconsiderate. Shall I also have the stewards provide the bedchambers with shackles and chains?”
“Not at the moment,” Alec returned crisply. “Nails in the mattress shall suffice for now. Get moving, lad.”
Toby dashed off and Alec continued to watch the Warringtons as they waited for a Summerlin to extend a welcome. One of the lesser stewards had already greeted them and Alec watched the servant bow and scrape before Nigel, knowing that the excessive delay was becoming intensely embarrassing. But he continued to linger in the doorway unobtrusively, forcing the Warringtons to wait.
A figure suddenly appeared beside him, resplendent in a bejeweled shade of sapphire that matched the intense color ofher eyes. Alec instinctively reached out and grasped his wife’s arm.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded softly.
Peyton looked quite innocent. And quite determined. “Your mother is unable to attend her guests and I, as your wife, shall greet them in her stead.”
