That had been Alec’s original intention. But gazing into Ali’s black eyes suddenly gave him an idea. “Nay, Sire. I would have Ali assume the fiefdom of Wisseyham. He would be an excellent lord and neighbor. Moreover, he is my brother-in-law and we would forge a powerful alliance.”
Both Ali and Ivy looked shocked until Ivy turned to her husband with a hopeful grin. Edward watched them both, mulling over the possibilities. It did not take him long to come to a conclusion.
“Agreed,” he said softly, turning to fix Alec in the eye.
“I will dissolve your sister’s betrothal and arrest the Warringtons as you ask, but with one stipulation. That you return to my service and help me subdue Llewellyn ap Gruffydd.”
Alec did not react, but Peyton’s eyes widened. She did not dare look at her husband, surely knowing what his answer would be. After a moment, Alec smiled thinly.
“Ever shrewd, Edward. You stop the marriage between my sister and the Warrington bastard, turn their confiscated lands over to Ali, and in turn you wish for me to help you defeat the Welsh prince.”
Edward, suddenly fully sober, cocked an eyebrow. All of the humor had fled from the conversation, the comfort and warmth. Abruptly, it was tense and uncomfortable, and no one dared to twitch a muscle as Alec and Edward stared at each other.
Currents of emotions played upon the warm, stale air, enveloping all present. Peyton felt the uncertainty and squeezed Alec’s hand encouragingly, distressed when he did not respond to her gesture.
“You are fully aware of my vow,” Alec said in a low voice.
Edward was the first to avert his gaze. “No one is more aware of it than I, Alec. But that was twelve years ago. Surely you have resigned yourself to Peter’s death by now. You must go forward with your life,” he suddenly slammed his tankard against the table. “I have waited twelve damn years to come to grips with your mistake and I refuse to wait any longer. You want something from me, Alec, and I want something from you. Will you do this for your king, or will you continue to live your life in self-pity? I have always believed you to be made of stronger character than that.”
Peyton’s eyes were wide enough to pop from her skull. She swallowed hard, her gaze moving between Edward and her husband. Alec, however, hadn’t changed expression. He was still smiling faintly at his king, although it wasn’t a humorous smile. Edward, irritated and full of alcohol, rose unsteadily to his feet and jabbed a long finger at Alec.
“You would expect me to do you a favor, yet you have no intention of reciprocating. God’s Blood, Alec, I won’t lift a finger to grant your requests unless you agree to help me. I need you, Alec. I need your sword!”
Alec’s eyes glittered. “I will have to discuss this with my wife.”
Edward turned from the table, throwing up his arms in a gesture of resignation. “By all means, Alec. Discuss it with your beautiful wife and let me hear of your answer. I shall not ask again. If you deny my request this time, then you can consider your ties to the throne cut. You will no longer exist to me.”
Tears welled in Peyton’s eyes. She refused to sit by while the drunken monarch humiliated her husband. She leapt to her feet before she could control herself, fully prepared to defend him against the king.
“You cannot speak to him in such a manner,” she sobbed. “His father has disinherited him, his mother hates him, and still he is trying to do what is best for them by eliminating the Warringtons. How dare you threaten to destroy your friendship.”
Alec reached up and grasped her by the arms. “Sit down, love. It’s all right.”
She whirled to him angrily. “Nay, it is not all right. You have given up everything and still the king threatens to take away more,” she refocused on Edward, her sobbing lessened as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Wasn’t Alec’s strength and reputation enough for you in the Holy Land? My God, he killed his own brother trying to protect your approach to Acre. He has sacrificed everything in the name of the crown and still you have the gall to berate him as a weakling.”
Edward stared at her as Alec gently pulled her to sit. He tried to comfort her, but she would not let him. She continued. “Sire, Alec has nothing left but St. Cloven and a bad-tempered wife.You have stripped him of his dignity by reaming him in front of his colleagues and peers, and now you would destroy your friendship? I do not know if I can respect a king who resorts to intimidation and threats to gain his wants. I thought you loved Alec.”
Edward did not reply for a moment. His half-lidded gaze never left her. “My lady, your husband means more to me than you can possibly know. There is not a fighting man in England who has not heard of The Legend. What he has just heard from my lips is nothing he hasn’t heard before; in fact, I believe I say something similar every time we meet. I have been threatening to disregard him for the past twelve years; obviously, I have no intention of following through on my warning. I am sorry to have upset you so.”
Alec’s smile returned as his gaze moved between Peyton and the king. His massive arm was around her shoulders, watching her expression as Edward explained his actions. He could see, however, that she was not entirely convinced and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.
“Edward rants and raves habitually, sweetheart,” he murmured. “’Tis nothing new.”
Peyton sniffled loudly, lowering her gaze to wipe daintily at her dripping nose. As the realization of Edward’s words settled, she calmed somewhat. But she was still grossly upset with the king for berating Alec for all to see.
“’Tis new to me, and I do not think I like it,” she sniffed again, wiping the remainder of her tears away in a lady-like gesture. Her sapphire blue eyes found Edward once more. “I would appreciate it, Sire, if you would ream my husband outside of my presence. I shall not stand to see anyone browbeat Alec but me.”
A flicker of a grin creased Edward’s lips. “Understood, my lady,” he cocked an eyebrow at Alec. “But my offer stands firm. Help me with Llewellyn and I shall rid you of the Warringtons.”
Alec sighed deeply, thoughtfully. “I have not wielded a sword in twelve years. I would probably cut my head off.”
It was the first time since Peter’s death that Edward interpreted what he considered to be an affirmative consideration to his pleadings. A response he never actually thought to receive. His eyes widened and he actually gripped a chair for support. “God’s Blood, Alec…. do you mean you will consider it?”
Alec thought a moment. Then, he looked to his wife’s open expression. God, she was so beautiful, so intelligent. Fiercely protective of him. For twenty-one years, he and Peter had protected and defended each other. And then he had killed his brother. Cancerous guilt had been a part of his daily life since that fateful event.
Until he had met his wife. She absorbed the guilt, the pain, creating within him a healed wound that was stronger than the wings of angels. It took him a moment to realize that the guilt had left him the very moment he’d married her. Without the guilt, there was no longer any reason to maintain his vow.
For the first time in twelve years, he realized Peter’s death was an accident. And for the first time in twelve years, he understood what had happened and why. He suddenly found himself missing the feel of a sword in his hand.
