The Legend (11 page)

Read The Legend Online

Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

Still, it was difficult to let
his guard down, as she truthfully hadn't given him any reason to. "You did
not offend me, demoiselle. There is nothing you could possibly say that would
offend me. And as for the fact that you have never seen a black man before, I
would wager to say that you never will again, either. I am something of a
deviation."

The tone was still sharp but
Peyton did not flinch. Instead, her apprehensive expression had become most
curiously. After several moments, she cocked her head thoughtfully. "Are
you black all over? Or just your face?”

Ali nearly choked with surprise,
fighting the sudden urge to laugh loudly at the question. Alec cleared his
throat, determining that it was time he enter the conversation.

"Ali must go and find your
sister before the day progresses any further,” he said firmly. “Ali, we will
meet you back at the keep."

"Wait, my lord," she
stopped him, still eyeing Ali. "Ivy is likely to run from him. Mayhap we
should accompany him in the search."

He cast a long glance at Ali,
knowing Peyton's words to be truth. "Very well, then." He reined his
destrier into the trees as Ali ordered the soldiers that had accompanied him to
return homeward.

"Which direction did she
take?" Alec asked as the canopy of trees swallowed them up.

Peyton pointed south. "That
way. I saw her go into the forest. Is it possible that she has made it home
already?"

The corner of Alec's lips
twitched. "If she is anything like you, I doubt it. She is probably
sitting on a stump somewhere, arguing with a bird."

She made a face at him as he
drove his destrier into the trees in search of Ivy.

Ali caught up to them after
sending the soldiers back to Blackstone, maintaining his raised visor and
continuing to eye Peyton as if her mild reaction to his color confused him. As
they rode in search of Ivy, he caught an occasional glance now and again, but
the lady would quickly look away when their eyes met. Her expression wasn't
hostile in the least, or condescending in any way. But she was definitely
bewildered.

Ali could deal with bewilderment;
a moderate enough emotion that usually did not precede screaming or taunts. He
began to wonder if her sister would react in the same mild fashion. It was the
very first time in a long while he could remember feeling the least bit of
encouragement. Hope for the wild dream of acceptance he never truly hoped to
attain, and couldn't dare to believe.

 

 

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

      

Peyton, Alec and Ali were at St.
Cloven by noon. As they entered the fortified manse, Alec greedily drank in the
sight of what was to become his. In front of him, Peyton was already squirming
from his grasp and he lowered her to the ground. Anxious for her sister's
safety, Peyton gathered her skirts and immediately made haste to the
storehouse. Alec and Ali dismounted and followed.

The ale storehouse was a huge
barn, the hard-packed floor covered with straw and stocked with barrels of ale
maturing in sectioned lots. The servants who tended the ripening liquor were nowhere
to be found as Peyton pushed open the great door and went inside.

"Ivy?" she called
loudly. "Are you here?"

Immediately, there was a loud
thump. "Peyton!" Ivy jumped from her hiding place up on a small loft
and rounded a pyramid of ale barrels. But her gleeful expression was
immediately cut short by the sight of Alec and Ali. "Peyton! They caught
you!"

"Nay," Peyton assured
her quickly, but Ivy was already moving for a weapon. An iron implement used to
open the barrels was within her grasp and she wielded it threatening.

"Let her go," Ivy
snarled.

"Cease, Ivy," Peyton
advanced on her sister. "Put that down. They've not captured me."

Ivy refused to do as she was
told. When Peyton came within arm's length, she reached out and attempted to
disarm her sister. Ivy, however, was not at all convinced of her sister's
sincerity and instantly the two of them were struggling for the weapon.

Alec and Ali looked at each
other, wondering if they should intervene in the physical confrontation. They
listened to Peyton plead, coax, and finally scold her sister harshly for her
foolishness. Frustrated and angry, Peyton had been dealt enough of Ivy's
refusals and gave the iron length a sharp twist, breaking her sister's grip.
Tossing it away, she slapped Ivy on the side of the head.

"Stupid cow! Why do you not
listen to me?"

Ivy slapped her back. "Do
not hit me!"

Peyton advanced but Alec cleared
his throat loudly and closed the gap between them. "Enough, ladies. This
will not deteriorate further. Lady Ivy, your sister has not been captured. She
is a willing party in this matter."

Ivy glared at him. "Matter?
What matter?"

"Returning to Blackstone, of
course," Alec replied. "You will accompany us as well."

Ivy looked at her sister, trying
to determine the situation for what it was. Was Peyton being forced? Ivy wasn't
completely convinced that her sister was willing to return to Blackstone in
light of the events of the past day, and Peyton could read her doubt.

"Might I have a word with my
sister alone, my lord?" she asked Alec.

"By all means," Alec
waved her off, his eyes roving the contents of the storehouse. "Take your
time. 'Twill give me a chance to inspect my acquisition."

Peyton winced as Ivy's eyes
opened wide. "What is he talking about?"

Peyton hastened to control the
damage. "Calm yourself. Give me a moment and I shall tell you."

"Peyton, what is he
saying?" Ivy demanded loudly, ignoring her sister's advice to relax.
"What have you done?"

A flash of anger bolted through
Peyton. "I haven't done anything. Why must you always assume I have done
something?"

So much for the private
conversation. Ivy faced off against her sister angrily. "He called St.
Cloven his acquisition. Did you sell it to him?"

Peyton was cornered, flushing
with uncertainty. Her gaze flickered guiltily to Alec, who decided to take
matters into his own hands.

"She did not sell St.
Cloven, my lady," he said quietly, meeting Ivy's hostile gaze. "Your
sister is my future wife; therefore, the keep will be mine."

Ivy visibly paled.
"No!" she gasped.

Ali moved to stand beside Alec in
support of his friend's claim. "Do not appear so shocked, demoiselle. Your
sister is not the only de Fluornoy woman taking a husband."

Ivy went from chalk white to
sickly gray. "Oh, Christ."

Peyton looked surprised, gazing
at Ali's helmed head. "What are you talking about? Sir Alec did not allude
to a husband for Ivy."

Alec and Ali looked at each
other, silent words of approval passing between them. In Ali's short, concise
statement, he had obviously accepted the contract and Alec returned his gaze to
the two women. "Did not I mention it? My apologies. I cannot imagine that
I have become so forgetful," he smiled humorlessly and gestured towards
his armored friend with a gloved hand. "Ivy is to marry Ali."

"No!" Peyton and Ivy
gasped in unison.

"Yes," Alec and Ali
answered in equal synchronization.

Shock filled the storehouse as
Peyton and Ivy stared at the two men as if they had suddenly lost their minds.
"I am too young!" Ivy bemoaned. "I am only seventeen! I Do not..!"

"God's Blood, You are
seventeen? You are an old maid, wench," Ali turned to Alec. "I cannot
marry her, Alec. She is far too old."

"I am not," Ivy
retorted hotly in an abrupt turnabout. "I am only seventeen."

Ali shook his head regretfully.
"You should have been married at twelve. How is it that you are so old and
unmarried?"

Ivy frowned terribly and Ali
smiled beneath his lowered visor. He had decided the moment he saw the Lady Ivy
wrestling with her sister that he would marry her, for she would bear him
strong sons. Moreover, she was a very pretty girl with hair of spun gold and
the body of a ripe goddess. Aye, a most pleasing wench for his taste and he was
eager to learn of her reaction to his heritage. Without hesitation, he raised
his faceplate.

Ivy's scowl vanished with
unnatural rapidity. Her blue eyes were riveted to him for several long moments,
gazing at the smooth mahogany skin, the onyx eyes. Gone was her blatant
defiance, her natural resistance. Her breathing began to come in labored drags
as she stared at the man she was to marry with growing horror.

"No," she gasped after
a moment. Then louder: “You cannot be serious. I shall not.... I cannot marry
you."

Peyton eyed her sister
distressfully. She wasn't entirely comfortable with Ali's dark appearance,
either, and the fact that the man was to be Ivy's husband came as a shock. But
for Ivy's sake, she struggled to maintain her composure.

'Twill be all right, darling,”
she said softly. “Do not work yourself into a frenzy over...."

Ivy whirled to her sister,
grabbing her by the arms as if to use her as a shield between her and Ali.
"No, Peyton, I shall not marry him. He is not like us at all. He.... He is
dark, He is a.... what is he?"

Peyton passed an uneasy glance
between Ali and Alec; Alec's usually impassive face was unnaturally hard and he
turned away, meandering aimlessly toward the barrels of aging ale. Peyton
watched his stiff back, his massive hands clenching and unclenching. Obviously,
he was displeased with Ivy's lack of acceptance in the matter. But she hardly
blamed her sister.

"Sir Alec, mayhap you should
reconsider my sister's betrothal," she said as politely as she could.
"She is, after all, a lady of noble breeding and deserving of such
consideration. Meaning no disrespect to your.... soldier, but is my sister not
entitled to an English husband?"

"I am English," Ali's
voice was low. "God's Blood, woman, I told you I was born and raised in
England. I have fought for our king. What more proof do you require?"

Peyton's gaze moved from Alec to
Ali. Her expression was open, protective, and mayhap the least bit remorseful.
Although her nature was independent and, occasionally blunt, she had become
aware earlier that the black man before her was vibrant with emotion and
feeling. Even if she wasn't fully convinced that he was a true man in every
sense of the word, she had no desire to injure his feelings with the realities of
their obvious difference. His dark countenance aside, he was still a mere
soldier. Not even a knight.

As she struggled for a tactful
reply, Ivy moved from behind her.

"You are not English,"
she accused sharply. "I have never seen a black Englishman. Your skin is
black like the feathers of a raven. Certainly it is not white like mine, or my
sister's, or Sir Alec's. I refuse to marry man with black skin with limited
intelligence that has been taught to behave and speak like a well-trained
dog!"

Alec whirled toward Ivy, the
veins on his neck throbbing. He appeared sincerely intent on doing Ivy great
harm and Peyton was terrified for her sister's safety. But one look from Ali
was all that was required to steer Alec away from the blond woman, and he
resumed his wandering toward the barrels of ale with reined agitation. Peyton
could see his jaw ticking.

Ali, however, was quite calm. Far
calmer than he had been when he and Peyton had first exchanged words in the
forest. He focused on Ivy intently.

"What gives you the
impression that the color of my skin is indicative of my intelligence?" he
asked quietly. "I am far more intelligent that most of my white
counterparts, Alec Summerlin included. He will vouch for this."

Alec could feel the stares of the
two women on his back, waiting for confirmation. Fighting to calm his natural
anger for the insults dealt to his friend, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Ali was the best student
amongst the pages while we were fostering," his voice was strangely tight.
"He can figure the most difficult mathematics in his head, he can decipher
Greek, French, Latin and Arabic without any effort whatsoever. My strengths lie
in finances and other areas, but his skills and knowledge in the aforementioned
subjects can put the most learned scholars to shame. He is anything but
simple."

Peyton looked to Ali, struggling
against the disbelief that threatened. Ivy, however, was not so discreet. She
was still focused on Alec. "There are horses and pigs that harbor
intelligence, too. We could spend all day comparing one animal to the
next."

Alec's thinly-held control
slipped and he moved toward Ivy, his ears mottled with flush. "Ali is a
man, my lady, not an animal. If I hear you refer to him in that manner again, I
shall...."

"Alec," Ali grabbed his
friend by the arm, cutting off his advance. He shook the massive man, forcing
his focus away from the object of his fury. "I shall deal with my future
wife, if you please. There is no need for your intervention."

Alec's jaw ticked as he struggled
to rein his anger. "Christ, Ali, I should have known...."

Ali cut him off with a faint
smile, a hard squeeze to the arm. "Be quiet, my friend. What occurs
between Lady Ivy and myself is none of your concern."

Alec stared at him, a degree of
helplessness crossing his features. "Do not do this to yourself," his
voice came out a pleading whisper. "There will be other...."

Ali squeezed his arm again, one
last time to effectively shut him down. "No more, Alec. I can handle my
own affairs." Calmly, he turned to Ivy. "Will you accompany me on a
walk, demoiselle? 'Twould seem there are a great many things to discuss."

Ivy shook her head firmly. "I
shall not be seen with you. I do not want to have anything to do with you, you....
black beast!"

Peyton averted her gaze from Ali
as her sister blatantly insulted him. Although her reaction to her betrothal to
Alec had not been much different from Ivy's reaction to Ali, there was a deeper
element involved now than mere refusal. Ivy was cutting close to the soul with
her sharp tongue, accusing the dark soldier of being an animal, or worse. But
Peyton was wise enough to take her cue from Alec; she would not intervene.
Whatever happened would have to take place between Ali and Ivy alone.

"You will walk with me,
demoiselle,” Ali said steadily. “I have a need to speak with you."

Ivy's shock and fear were wearing
thin, replaced by a burning contempt. She fixed her heady blue gaze on him, her
round body tense with fury. "I will not speak with you, as I have said.
There is nothing to discuss."

Ali's black eyes were blazing
embers as he took a step toward her, slowly and deliberately. He would not
accept her rejection. In fact, contrary to his usual habit, he would do
everything in his power to show her how wrong she was.

"You do not consider me man
enough to be your husband,” it was a statement. “I will prove to you that you
are mistaken."

"What?" Ivy and Peyton
responded in unison, horrified at the suggestion. Even as Peyton moved toward
her sister as if to shield her from the black soldier, Alec reached out and
grabbed her arm.

"Leave them alone, my
lady," his voice was soft, but his expression was taut. "Ali will do
what needs to be done."

Peyton opened her mouth to
protest vigorously as Ali moved to Ivy, enclosing her elbow in a massive gauntlet.
"Come along, demoiselle," he said encouragingly.

Peyton was seized with
apprehension, but Alec held her firm, preventing her from moving to protect her
sister. When she sputtered a helpless cry, he leaned down and whispered in her
ear. "Have faith, Lady Peyton. Your sister shall not be harmed in any way.
I swear it."

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