Peyton tossed the compress to the floor and stood up, weaving dizzily a moment. Ivy watched her with concern. “Now what?”
Peyton shook off her unbalance and moved for the door. “Nothing. I am going to paint for a while. Mayhap that will help my head.”
Ivy’s smile faded as her sister quit the room. Peyton wasn’t feeling at all well; she hadn’t been well for over a week. At least since she and Ali had returned to St. Cloven. The usually vital woman was sleeping longer and her fast temper was surely faster. Between the absence of appetite and the constant headaches, she had been a taxing companion. Alec, even though he had been very patient and sweet with her, had been preoccupied with his own problems and Ivy found herself with Peyton constantly, listening to the gripes.
Ivy returned to her book, puzzled with her sister’s behavior and mystery illness. Even though she pretended otherwise, she was nonetheless concerned. She hoped Peyton’s self-pitying prophesy wasn’t unwittingly true.
Downstairs, Alec and Ali came in from the storehouse. Olphampa, sequestered in the solar with Sula playing a hearty game of backgammon, barely gave the two men a glance; he was terrified that his wife was close to becoming the victor. Alec and Ali grinned at the two latest residents of St. Cloven.
“If my father loses, he shall kill himself,” Ali commented as they mounted the stairs.
“Your father takes his game playing too seriously,” Alec replied. “Your mother is a highly skilled player; Christ, she can beat me.”
Ali laughed softly as they reached the second floor. “Speaking of parentage, we haven’t received a response from Edward as of yet and it has been six days. What do you suppose is keeping him?”
Alec shook his head. “I requested one hundred crown troops to reinforce my seventy-five. I expected to hear word on that particular solicitation, at least.”
“Or a congratulations on your marriage. I cannot believe Edward would remain silent on that regard.”
They reached the small ladies solar and were greeted by Ivy’s blond head. Ali smiled at his wife as Alec’s gaze perused the room. “Where’s Peyton?”
“Fighting off a bad headache and a bad mood in her painting room,” Ivy said, laying her book aside and focusing on her husband.
Alec nodded his thanks and quit the room in search of his wife.
Ali closed the door softly behind him, bolting it for good measure. Alone in the solar with his bride, there was no mistaking the seductive smile that spread across his face. Ivy matched his grin, reading his mind.
“Again, Ali? Now?”
The eager new husband nodded slowly, decisively. “Here and now.”
*
Alec found Peytonseated in front of her easel, stroking the parchment delicately with a horsehair brush. Shades of yellow and black graced the vellum, so skillfully blended they appearedreal. Alec stood behind her in silent appreciation for a moment, admiring his wife’s talent.
“Sunflowers,” he murmured. “’Twill be pleasurable to gaze upon during winter’s bleak days.”
“It’s for your mother,” Peyton said softly, expertly dabbing at her palette. “I thought she might enjoy them.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, unnaturally large against her petite frame. He gazed at the flowers a moment. “She loves sunflowers.”
Peyton worked on the shading, blending a mustard yellow into the paler yellow. “I know. She told me so.”
His gaze lingered on the flowers a moment longer before he bent over and kissed the top of her head, releasing her shoulders to gain himself a stool. “How are you feeling today? Ivy says your headache has not retreated.”
“It hasn’t,” she said. He noticed that she was particularly pale. “In fact, I do believe it is getting worse.”
He touched her leg sympathetically, watching her as she worked on her painting. “Why do you not rest, then? The sunflowers will wait.”
She snorted. “All I have done is sleep. I have never been so tired in my entire life.”
“Do you suppose I should summon a physic? Mayhap you have caught an illness.”
She shook her head, rinsing off her brush. “I shall be fine.”
He stood up and shoved the stool aside. “I would feel better if you’d allow me to summon a physic. You are so pale, love, and you have hardly eaten in a week.”
She dried her brush and rose, weaving slightly as her head swam. Alec reached out to steady her, concern etching his handsome features. When the swaying passed, he gathered her into his arms despite her weak protests.
