“Her eyes are red,” he whispered.
“She was hysterical, Alec,” Ivy said quietly. “What did you expect? She has never attended a birth before.”
Alec stroked the red hair and Peyton sighed raggedly in her sleep. He would have liked to have sat by her all afternoon, caressing her beautiful head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Ivy and he knew he must deliver the news of her future. The sooner the better, and considering Peyton was passed out like a drunkard, he would be better able to deal with Ivy alone. Kissing the red head tenderly, he rose from the bed and motioned to Ivy.
“I have a need to speak with you,” he said softly.
Dutifully, Ivy rose and went to him, her pretty face expectant. Jubil took her place next to Peyton and began singing a faint, sweet lullaby, and Alec recognized it as the same melody his wife had sang to him the previous night in the monastery. The warmth of the memory filled him for a moment, a sweet flicker of time when he and Peyton had been closer emotionally than he had ever been to anyone. But Ivy was waiting and Alec gazed into her blue eyes, faltered on his words, and tried again.
“Ivy, something has occurred,” he said softly. He had decided that being honest was the very best option he had, and he grasped her arm gently as he spoke. “My father has been speaking with Nigel Warrington and, needless to say, the man is quite angry over the broken betrothal. However, he and my father agreed on several valid points, one being that you would be an excellent chatelaine for Wisseyham Keep since Nigel is a widow and there are no female relatives to fill the position. Secondly, Colin is heir to a substantial fortune and you, as his wife, would be in a far greater social position than if you were the wife of a mere soldier.”
Ivy’s face darkened immediately and she jerked her arm free from his grasp. “I do not want to marry Colin. I want to marry Ali and I shall. You said….”
“I know what I said, but that was before my father had a chance to dwell on your future. He feels that he is providing you with the very best possible life by wedding you to Colin, a life of prominence and wealth, whereas with Ali, you would have none of this. He must do as he believes your father would have wanted and….”
“My father hated the Warringtons!” Ivy shrieked. “They pleaded for Peyton’s hand several years ago and father refused them outright! He would have never wed me to Colin!”
Jubil overheard everything; it was difficult not to. Swiftly, she rose from her seat by Peyton and stood beside her youngest niece. “She cannot marry the Warrington heir, Alec. She already carries a black son and the child will not fare favorably in the House of Warrington.”
Both Alec and Ivy looked at the old woman as if she were mad. Alec almost responded but caught himself, focusing on Ivy in an attempt to calm her before she flew out of control. “I realize what this appears, that my father is weak and easily swayed, and that his word cannot be trusted. But I assure you that this is notthe case; my father is a wise, intelligent man and he must do for you as he decides best. You might not agree with him, but given time you will understand his actions.”
Ivy was ashen. Her mouth hung open and she took another step back from him. “He has already promised me, hasn’t he? He only pretended to relent and sent Ali away on a false errand so that he would be out of the way while the real marriage took place.”
Alec shook his head. “Not at all. He was sincere when he sent Ali for the lawyer. However, he has had time to think and has come to the conclusion that ’twould be best that you to marry Colin and become chatelaine of Wisseyham.”
“No!” Ivy roared. “I shall not marry him! I shall kill him first!”
Alec was calm, watching the woman work up a wild rage. He kept recollecting Peyton’s words, how Colin raped young girls and left children to die, and how Nigel himself had raped Jubil even if they could not prove it. He also remembered the scene in the bailey when Colin had moved threateningly toward Peyton, and it was apparent that he was not a man of mercy or conscience. Even if Ivy could hold her own against him in a fight, he seriously doubted she could survive to a ripe old age in the House of Warrington. Being an aggressive woman was one strike against her, but being a de Fluornoy was a death sentence.
All of Alec’s indecision left him. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that he could not be a party to the misery of his wife’s sister. Nor could he betray his friend. There was far more to this than he could comprehend and his head was spinning already from the enormity of events, but he could understand one thing quite clearly; Ivy could not marry Colin.
Family loyalty!He turned away from Ivy, clenching his fists as his eyes fell on Peyton. Christ, she was his family now, was she not? She and St. Cloven were his, no matter what his father saidor did, even if saving Ivy from the slimy grip of Colin Warrington cast an irreversible shadow on his relationship with Brian.
He loved his father, as much as a son could love a father, but he could not allow such a horrible transgression to take place with his full knowledge. How would he ever explain Ivy’s betrothal to Peyton when he himself did not fully understand? His father had asked him to trust him; he did trust him. Undeniably. But in this matter, he trusted his instincts more. He had to remove Ivy before the Warringtons could get their claws into her.
He reached out and grasped Ivy, forcing her to look at him. “Do you trust me?”
Ivy was fully prepared to punch him in the nose and curse him, but the look in his eyes was so intense that she stopped in mid-rage. There was something in his gaze…. “Aye, I do.”
His jaw ticked as he released her. “Then pack a small satchel. I shall return shortly and do not let anyone through that door but myself or Toby. Do you understand? Not even my father.”
Ivy nodded unsteadily and he moved to the door with determination, his gaze resting on his wife once more as he realized that he was about to commit an offense against his father not merely for the loyalty of a friend, but for the happiness of a newly acquired relative.
He was doing it for his wife. God help him, he was willing to risk everything for her.
The door slammed and the room shook to the rafters. Ivy bolted the oak panel as if to lock out the Devil himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Peyton slept throughIvy’s departure, through Brian’s raging, through Nigel’s furious protests. Celine, exhausted with the death of her grandson, had taken to her bed ill and was unable to deal with the angry men wreaking havoc in her solar. Only Thia was left to weather the storm by her father’s side, gravely concerned for his color and wondering when their peaceful life at Blackstone careened so terribly out of control. However, it was not difficult to isolate the catalyst.
Lady Peyton Summerlin slept soundly as a violent confrontation shook the very walls of Blackstone. Nigel against Brian, curses and shouted words, pleas for understanding and patience; she was completely unaware that she had been the window through which the Devil had entered to do his work. She dreamt once, of Alec, but when she tried to touch him he had vanished. After that, her slumber had been dreamless. Thankfully, no nightmares of dead babies plagued her.
She was further oblivious to Thia Summerlin’s dark thoughts of her, the hatred building within the soul of the woman. Thia had been indifferent to Peyton after their confrontation, and she surprisingly thought she might grow to tolerate the womanwho stood against her so admirably in a verbal conflict. But listening to her father’s exhausted, angry voice and watching Nigel Warrington spew threats, she knew at that moment that she could never tolerate such a disruptive force within the walls of Blackstone.
Everything had been so right before she came. She was beautiful, though not Thia’s usual taste. Her taste ran to young serving girls and nubile villeins she could convince to join her in same-sex frolics. No one knew of her strange lusts, the carnal improprieties that she indulged in. Her parents simply thought she hated men because she was afraid of them, and she would allow them to believe what they would. Marrying a member of the opposite sex did, indeed, frighten her. She wanted no part of it.
What she wanted most at this moment, however, was to be rid of her brother’s wife. She could deduce from the conversation that Lady Peyton had been the primary objective, and that Lady Ivy had come in second. Thia watched impassively as Nigel spitefully broke a rare Grecian artifact her father had collected in Athens; if there was some way to deliver the Warringtons what they so apparently desired, two problems would be solved quite nicely. Blackstone would return to normal and the Warringtons would have the bitch. All would be well again.
