A harried groom approached him to announce that his Saracen stallion had endured a rough night and went on to suggest the addition of ale to the animal’s water to calm him. Alec agreed, intending to administer the liquor himself, when a burly man approached him and bowed deeply.
“My lord?” he addressed timidly.
Alec fixed the man with his customary emotionless gaze. “Who are you?”
The man bowed profusely. He was a big man, with thinning reddish hair and small green eyes. “I am John Todd, the master brewer. I understand that the Lady Peyton returned last eve.”
“My wife has indeed returned,” Alec eyed the man with a degree of respect. “Is there a problem with the stores?”
“Nay, my lord, no problem to speak of,” John assured him.
“But there is a batch of pale ale that is already ripe. Lady Peyton’s approval is required.”
Alec studied the man a moment longer as the weary groom still hovered beside him restlessly. “My wife will come to see you shortly. I shall summon her myself.”
The master brewer bowed again. “Thank you, my lord, thank you.”
When the fat man waddled away, Alec returned his attention the stable hand. “Let’s tend to my vicious beast, shall we?”
The groom scurried after the long-legged master. “Vicious, indeed, my lord. He has nearly taken off my hand. Twice!”
Alec raised a disapproving eyebrow. “The first time should have been enough to warn you off. He is not to be trifled with.”
“I was attempting to feed him, my lord,” the groom replied with a touch of droll sarcasm.
Alec did not respond as they passed through an arched gateway in the wall and on to the protected stables.
*
In spite ofher long and strenuous night, Peyton arose shortly after Alec had left her. Taking her time, she bathed leisurely and dressed in a persimmon-colored surcoat that was nearly the exact color of her hair. Gathering her considerable mane of curls, she tied them loosely at the nape of her neck and went about with her plans for the day. And she had a load of them.
Driving the servants like a Roman emperor, she proceeded to have all of her father’s items removed from the master wardrobe and replaced with Alec’s things. Several strapping male servants brought in another wardrobe to house her possessions. The huge bed that had belonged to her father was stripped of its bedclothes and taken outside to be cleaned and re-stuffed withlayers of straw and feathers. The more that was accomplished, the more she decided needed to be done.
The upper floor of St. Cloven turned into a clutter of displaced furniture and other items as the servants set about scrubbing floors and washing rugs and portieres at Lady Peyton’s direction. But they were used to her dictatorial rule; she was an accomplished chatelaine and having been away from her home for so long strengthened her resolve to restore its perfection. With a new master in their midst, and a powerful one, the servants of St. Cloven were pleased to do her bidding.
Returning from the stables, Alec could see the cleaning commotion even from a distance and correctly assumed his wife to be at the head of it. With a faint grin, he made his way inside.
Peyton was standing in the middle of the upstairs corridor, expressing concern over the wearability of a particular woolen rug. He moved up behind her silently, only to grasp her firmly about the waist and plant a loud kiss on the nape of her luscious neck.
She started with surprise, but immediately relaxed into a radiant smile as he wound his thick arms around her torso and buried his face in her hair.
“Who is it?” she asked innocently.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Pray, Lady Summerlin, who else would greet you as I have just done?”
She pretended to think and he swatted her bottom with a trencher-sized hand. Laughing, Peyton whirled away from him as if to escape his wrath.
“No one has ever greeted me in that fashion, husband. Only you.”
He rested his fists on his narrow hips. “Well and good for you,” his gaze lingered on the hall in disarray. “What goes on here?”
“Cleaning,” she told him. “I would make sure that your new keep is perfect.”
He slanted her a glance. “With you residing within its walls, it could be nothing less.”
She smiled prettily and lowered her gaze. He closed the distance between them, cupping her dainty chin in his hand. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded. “Well enough. You were certainly up early.”
