Alec let out a hiss. “Do you think that entirely wise?”
“Of course,” she said briskly. “What are you waiting for?”
He gazed down at her, from head-to-toe the loveliest woman he had ever laid eyes on. It was enough to melt him to the core.
“I cannot say that I agree with you,” he said softly. “Especially in light of the fact that one of our ‘guests’ happens to be a spurned groom.”
Peyton’s brilliant eyes trailed to the bustling bailey, dust swirling through the air and clinging to the clothing of their visitors. “I am not concerned in the least with Colin Warrington’s feelings, Alec. I am your wife, as I should be. If Colin cannot accept the fact, it is his misfortune.”
Alec could force her to return to her room, of course, as he suspected he should. But something deep in his soul wanted the Warringtons to see her, to know that she was his, and to know how proud he was to have her. His intention was not to flaunt her in their face as one would a coveted prize; precisely, he wanted them to see that he considered her far more than a trophy. He considered her the only woman worthy to be his wife.
“All right, then,” he said quietly. “But you will allow me to do the talking. Do you comprehend me?”
“Aye,” she nodded, although he wondered if she meant it.
But he did not press her for her vow to curb her tongue. Instead, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and stepped into the bailey.
Colin and Nigel were riveted to her from the moment she exited the castle and Alec felt himself stiffen at the attention. Buthe maintained his outward calm, approaching with Peyton on his arm and eyeing the Warringtons as if they were a lower life form.
“My lords,” he said in his low, rich voice. “I am Sir Alec Summerlin and this is my wife, the Lady Peyton. I bid you welcome to Blackstone.”
Colin and Nigel barely looked at him; they were entirely focused on Peyton as she curtsied with polished grace.
“Where is your father?” Nigel asked, his tone cold.
“Indisposed,” Alec replied with equal hardness. “Your party is early and he has more pressing duties to attend to at the moment.”
Nigel continued to stare at Peyton, who kept her gaze properly averted. “You are looking exceptionally well, Lady Peyton. I haven’t seen you in many years.”
She merely nodded and Nigel made a move toward her, extending his hand. Alec saw that he was moving to grasp her chin, to force her to look at him, and he pulled her out of the man’s range.
“That,” he growled, “would not be a wise move, my lord. No man touches my wife but me.”
Nigel looked to Alec, his blue eyes narrowing. “Considering you are speaking of stolen property, you are hardly in a position to make demands. Lady Peyton was meant for my son, as you well know, and I cannot tell you how displeased the House of Warrington is at this blatant thievery.”
“Lady Peyton was originally intended for me, my lord, but you had no way of knowing that when you sent your missive requesting her hand. Plans for our marriage had already been made some time ago.”
Nigel snorted, his eyes trailing to Peyton once again. This time, she was looking at him openly, hostility simmering in the depths of the sapphire blue eyes. He smiled thinly. “It certainlydid not take you an over amount of time to find another husband after the death of Deveraux. As I hear it, the two of you were inseparable. You were at the tournament in Norwich when he was killed, were you not? How tragic for you.”
To her surprise, Peyton did not flinch. She felt a good deal of anger at his attempt to upset her, but none of the hollow grief she associated with James’ death. It was amazing that she wasn’t dissolving into tears at the mere sound of his name.
“Indeed,” was all she said.
Alec did not look at her, his fury rising over Nigel’s bid to unnerve her. But he was immensely pleased that she did not respond to his jibe, as he had asked her not to. She was silent, as promised, allowing her husband to handle the situation.
Nigel laughed softly at her lack of reaction. “Surely with all of that red hair you cannot be so cold-hearted. I express my condolences for the passing of your beloved betrothed and all you can say is ‘indeed?’ Shocking.”
Her composure slipped somewhat, replaced by building anger. When she spoke, it was with carefully measured tones. “I neither want nor care for your condolences, my lord. I am here on behalf of my husband’s mother to bid you welcome to Blackstone, not to hear your prevaricating blather.”
Alec almost smiled, but he fought it. Nigel raised a disapproving eyebrow at Peyton’s tone as Colin stepped forward, appraising her as if she were a prize mare.
“Let us hope that your new husband is able to impart some manners into your refractory nature,” he said in a low voice. “Be glad, in that case, that you did not marry me. Beauty or no, I would have taken your hide off at the first sign of insolence.”
Peyton’s beautiful face glazed with animosity. Good lord, how she hated this man! Certainly she had promised Alec that she would not speak overly, and until this point she’d handled herself exceptionally well. But to stand so close to the hatedColin Warrington eroded her will power and she couldn’t resist jabbing his arrogance.
“You are not man enough.”
Colin twitched menacingly in her direction. Alec was driving his fist into the younger Warrington’s face before he took another breath, sprawling the man on the dirt in less than a second. Nigel yelped and shielded his son protectively as Peyton pressed herself to Alec, struggling to stop him from doing any further damaged to Brian’s guests.
