Ali’s smile faded somewhat and he kissed Ivy on the forehead. “My wife would not be satisfied with a common-law ceremony, so we sailed to Calais and were married in a small monastery. ’Twould seem the French are more apt to accept a man of my color. They were more than happy to join us in matrimony.”
Alec blinked, startled by the news. “You were married in a church?”
Ali looked a bit sheepish as Ivy gazed up at him in support. “I was willing to overlook my hatred of the religion in order to please my wife. She wanted to be married in a church, and we searched until we found a priest who would agree to baptize me into the religion. Simply because God does not recognize me as an English knight does not mean that he cannot recognize me as a Catholic husband.”
A surprised pause was followed by a slow smile. Alec reached out and took Ali’s gloved hand into his own, a handshake of friendship and congratulations. “My best wishes, Ali. You cannot know how glad I am to hear this.”
Ali opened his mouth to reply but was thwarted when a loud shriek suddenly pierced the cool air of the bailey. Peyton, her red hair waving like a wild banner, raced from the manse like a madwoman.
Ali jumped back as she plowed into her sister, cries of welcome and grunts resulting from harsh embraces filling the air. Alec and Ali stood together, observing the touching scene between the two sisters.
“Christ, Peyton, do not break any bones,” Alec admonished softly, grinning. “Let the woman breathe.”
Peyton ignored him, but she did release her sister long enough to step back and take a good look at her. “You are back! Why have you returned so soon?”
Ivy thrust her left hand in Peyton’s face; a gold and garnet band glittered brightly on the third finger and Peyton studied the ring with pleasure.
“We were married by a priest in France,” Ivy said happily. “There was no reason to stay away. The Warringtons cannot dissolve a marriage performed by the church.”
Peyton’s mouth opened in surprise and glee. “You are truly married? How marvelous!” she hugged her sister tightly before turning to Ali.
The dark soldier was the recipient of a warm embrace from his redheaded sister-in-law. “Welcome home, Ali.”
Ali was truly touched. For a man who had known rejection his entire life, it was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Although their initial reaction to the dark warrior had been moderately resistant and hardly surprising, Ivy and Peyton had differed from the rest of the female populace in that they had been ableto move beyond the aesthetics. Never had he met women who judged him not by his appearance, but by what lay in his heart. As if his dark skin did not matter. They came to understand that he was a man like all the rest and his thanks went beyond words.
“Thank you, Peyton,” he said softly.
Alec was smiling at his friend, knowing Ali’s feelings all too well. As Ivy and Peyton had come to accept Ali, Alec had come to accept their approval without reservation. Once he had been hesitant, reluctant to believe their sincerity. But the hesitation was gone and he couldn’t remember feeling such relief on Ali’s behalf. It was better than he could have ever hoped for.
Just as the moment grew overly warm, Alec suddenly looked stricken as if a terrible thought had just occurred to him.
“Christ!” he boomed. “I just realized that you are my legal brother.”
Ali mirrored his horrified look. “And you are mine. Alec, I do not know if I can show my face in public. I shall be the laughing stock.”
While Ivy and Peyton giggled, Alec scowled and put his hands on his hips. “You insolent whelp. Being related to me is the answer to your prayers.”
Ali snickered and put his arm around Ivy. “Sorry, Alec. My prayers have indeed been answered, but not by you.”
Alec lifted an eyebrow in agreement and pulled Peyton into his embrace. “’Twould seem that God had been watching out for the both of us when he led the hideous Lady Peyton and her deformed sister to our doorstep those weeks ago.”
“Hideous?” Peyton repeated with outrage.
“Deformed?” Ivy echoed on her heels.
“Aye, hideous and deformed,” Alec insisted, looking between his wife and her sister. “I seem to remember women with white faces, blacked-out teeth, and circled eyes, acting like a pair of fools.”
Peyton and Ivy looked at each other and grinned. “Ah, yes. Hideous and deformed,” Ivy agreed.
Ali shuddered, as if remembering the appalling visions. “And I seem to recall a woman who picked her nose and scratched her arse like a man. Frightful.”
Ivy pretended to slug him and he laughed his deep, throaty laugh. “My tactics were not too terribly frightful. They caught your attention, did they not?”
Ali cocked a black eyebrow. “Was that a sample of your feminine wiles? ’Tis no small mystery why you were unmarried at a proper age, then.”
Ivy slapped at him again, much to Peyton’s amusement. “Enough, Ali,” Ivy commanded. “I am tired and wish to take a bath.”
He fought off a grin. “Of course, sweetling. Care for company in your bath?”
