Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
He stumbled backwards, dazed and
pained by what he had done, wandering away from Peyton until he bumped into his
father's desk. Never taking his eyes off her, he perched himself on the edge of
the desk and continued to stare at her, wondering if he could ever make
restitution to her for his violent actions. There were no words to describe his
torment as he watched her shaking, huddled form.
Time passed slowly, painfully.
Peyton remained huddled in a ball and Alec sat frozen on the end of the oaken
desk. She did not move or speak; neither did he. He was so deeply shocked at
his outburst that he swore silently he would spend the rest of his life making
amends to her, whatever it would take. He thanked God that he had still
possessed sense enough not to have physically attacked her.
As it was, his father's valuable
Egyptian vase with the strange writing had been destroyed, as had a heavy
cherrywood table. The upended chair could be repaired, but he seriously
wondered if Peyton's wits would ever heal.
"Peyton," he whispered
finally. "Please get up, sweetheart. I promise I won't...."
"Go away from me, Alec Summerlin,"
her voice was a breathy whisper.
He sighed heavily and stood up,
wondering if he should not simply force her to sit in a chair so that he could
speak with her rationally. She had to understand that he hadn't meant to erupt
so violently, but there were deep reasons as to why he had acted so
irrationally. Mayhap if she understood his reasons, she could forgive him.
Summoning his courage, he started
to move toward her, but his mission was severed in mid-motion.
The solar door opened and Lady
Celine poked her head into the room. Her pleasant expression immediately turned
to one of horror when she saw the condition of the room, and as her eyes fell
on Peyton, panic erupted.
"Alec!"
***
Somewhere high above the bailey,
a hawk screamed loudly in the warm air. Alec heard it as he gazed across the
courtyard, but he did not turn to look as he usually did. He was standing in
the very spot Peyton had occupied not an hour before as she cowered in fear of
his anger and, somehow, placing himself on the area brought him closer to her.
In fact, his thoughts were entirely on Peyton as he waited for his father to
speak.
Brian sat behind his great oak
desk, staring at the large piece of vellum before him. His handsome face was
contemplative, as it had been for the past hour. He gazed at the words on the
parchment before him, seeing but not reading. He knew what the words said
because he had written them. It was Peyton's betrothal contract.
"Alec," he said
finally, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I am afraid you have put me in a
difficult position."
"Why?" Alec asked
quietly. "Da, I explained to you what happened. I have all but groveled at
your feet, at mother's feet, and at Peyton's feet for forgiveness and I am at a
loss to understand why you seem to consider my actions so severe."
Brian's brown eyes glared at his
son, his heavy salt-and-pepper eyebrows lifting slightly. "You fail to
understand? Alec, you could have gravely injured Lady Peyton with your ranting
over something as innocent as a term used to describe Ali's race and I am
deeply concerned what will happen in the future should she make an even harsher
comment. God's Blood, Alec, what if she mentions Peter and you are offended?
Will you snap her neck and be sorry for it later?"
"I never laid a hand on her
and I never will. You know me better than that."
"I thought I did until this
gross display of temper. You scared the girl to death, Alec, and I do not blame
her. What in the world possessed you?"
Alec pushed himself off the wall,
massive arms folded in front of his chest as he paced the floor
contemplatively. "We have been over it. Do you truly wish to hear the same
answer again? I mistook her remark against Ali and I raged violently because....
because I was angry that she appeared to be just like all of the other women
who cannot see past the color of Ali's skin. But I was wrong. I am glad that I
was mistaken in my assessment of the lady's character and I am deeply ashamed
of my outburst. What more is it you want me to say?"
Brian's jaw ticked as he listened
to the explanation again. Slowly, he shook his head and lowered it to the
vellum. "I have come to a decision. Mayhap I have been wrong in my
assumption that you and the lady can establish a beneficial marriage. I do not
believe Lady Peyton is suited for you and...."
"What?" Alec
interrupted with genuine surprise. "Da, what are you..?"
Brian put up his hand sharply and
spoke loudly over his son's question. "And I have concluded that I should
find a husband better suited for her temperament. She is an outspoken, willful
young lady and she will need a husband who cannot be provoked by such
character."
Alec's emotionless face took on
real emotion. "That's ridiculous. What happened between us was a
misunderstanding and has nothing to do with her willful nature."
Brian folded his hands calmly.
"I know you agreed to marry her merely to acquire St. Cloven, but I am
sure there will be a greater inheritance for you, eventually. You are young
still, and I firmly believe there will be other prospects after Lady Peyton. In
fact, Lady Caroline Morford was discussed as a possibility even before this
situation with Lady Peyton arose."
"As I recall, when
you broached the subject of my betrothal to Lady Peyton, you did so because you
feared it would be my best, final offer, Alec's shock was turning into an
almost panicked anger, desperate to keep what he wanted. "I do not want
Lady Caroline. I want Peyton and I shall have her."
"You will do as I say,"
his father cocked an eyebrow, sitting back in his chair. "I am afraid that
I cannot, in good conscience, allow your marriage to Lady Peyton to take
place."
Alec visibly tensed. "Why
not?"
"I thought I made myself
quite clear. You and Lady Peyton are not suited for one another. I believe Lady
Caroline will make an adequate spouse, for she is docile and obedient and...."
"I do not want Lady
Caroline," Alec repeated, his voice a growl. "Lady Peyton will be my
wife."
Brian's eyes flashed with fury.
"Listen to me well. Alec, you are the most controlled man I have ever had
fortune to know. I have never seen you become truly enraged, or truly happy, or
truly sorrowful. You, my son, are the very model of a man who is in complete
control of his emotions; even King Edward has made comment of your
self-control," he rose slowly. "It concerns me deeply that this woman
has the power to cause you to lose yourself. 'Tis not this one incident that
causes me concern but, if you recall, you brought her back to Blackstone only
yesterday morning unconscious. You said it was an accident, yet she says you
were less than gentle with her. I shudder to think what will happen should she
provoke again and I cannot allow the death of your wife to be on my
hands."
Alec was stunned. "Do you
truly think I would murder her? I would sooner kill myself than harm her and
what happened yester morn was indeed an accident. I was wresting her onto my
horse and she fell and hit her head; nothing more."
"So you have said. And
rationally speaking, of course you would not kill the lady. But the destruction
of this room is testimony to the fact that she can bait you into the realm of
irrationality and therein would lie her murder."
Alec shook his head in disbelief.
"If I had a history of brutality, then I could understand your reasoning.
But you better than anyone understand my attitude against violence. Peyton
could never provoke me into such insanity that I would kill her."
Brian's gaze lingered a moment
longer on his son before looking to the parchment again. Aye, he knew Alec
better than anyone, which was why his son's display of temper frightened him.
Alec never lost his temper. He had been so positive that this marriage would be
mutually advantageous, but after witnessing the destruction of his solar, he
was forced to admit that mayhap the friction between Alec and Lady Peyton went
far deeper than mere indifference.
When he had seen Alec embrace the
lady yesterday during their engagement celebration, Brian hoped that all was
finally well. But he could see that he had been mistaken; he knew he could not
allow the marriage to take place, for the health of Lady Peyton and for the
emotional stability of his son.
Brian picked up his quill.
"The invitations to your wedding will be rescinded immediately and the
lingering few guests from the engagement party will be sent on their way,"
he began to scratch on the vellum before him, avoiding Alec's searing gaze.
"The Warringtons have petitioned for the lady's hand. I shall invite them
to Blackstone to draw up the particulars of the marriage contract. I shall find
you another bride."
Alec was angered in addition to being
shocked. "You never told me that the Warringtons petitioned for her.
Moreover, you said that there has been an ongoing feud between the de Fluornoys
and the Warringtons."
"There is. But if Lady
Peyton marries the young Warrington pup, I will no longer have any reason to
worry over the smoldering disharmony," he eyed his son, almost guiltily.
"And I never told you they appealed for her hand because I was selfish. I
wanted the lady for you and as reluctant as you were I thought it best not to
tell you she had other offers."
Alec did not reply for a moment.
When he did, it was in a tone Brian had never before heard. Like the voice of
God. "She will marry me, father. I want her."
Brian raised his head to his son.
"You mean you want St. Cloven. Lady Caroline is heiress to Burghley
Castle, a far sight larger than St. Cloven, and since her betrothed died of a
fever last spring she is mateless. With a little persuasion I am sure...."
"You obviously
misunderstood. I said I want Lady Peyton, not St. Cloven."
Brian turned from him coldly.
"The matter is closed, Alec. I have no more time for you; I must send out
missives canceling tonight's ceremony."
Alec was beyond anger. His mind
was literally swirling. Yet as muddled as his brain was, he knew one thing for
certain; there was no doubt that Peyton would be his wife. Without so much as a
hindglance, he quit the room.
The first person he came into
contact with was Ali in the foyer. His friend's face was grim.
"What happened, Alec?"
"Where's Peyton?"
"Your mother and her sister
took her upstairs. Damnation, what did your father say?"
Alec's jaw ticked and Ali knew
that was not a good sign. "Outside with me."
The two men marched outside,
crossing the massive bailey and passing into the stable yards. Alec did not
stop until he had reached his destrier's stall and he was not surprised to
realize that his anger had intensified during their short walk.
"Father plans to nullify the
betrothal and I will not allow it. I plan to marry Peyton regardless."
Ali let out a long hiss. "I
have never known your father to over-react, Alec. But then again, I have never
known you to destroy a room. What in the hell did she say that caused all of
this?"
Alec eyed him a moment.
"Nothing of consequence, for it was all a gross misunderstanding and I
shall regret my actions until the day I die. God forgive me for harming her,
however unintentionally."
Midas, Alec`s huge silver
warhorse, poked his head out of his stall and nibbled at Ali's hair. "I
know you did not mean to injure her. But she was quite hysterical and your
mother was beside herself. Frankly, I am shocked by the entire event, for I
have never known you to...."
"Enough, Ali. I know my
mistake and I shall forever grieve my lapse. But what remains now is that I
cannot allow my father to marry her to another."
Ali shook his head, snorting
ironically. "At first you did not want her. And now you refuse to let her
go? Most puzzling, my friend."
Alec's jaw ticked and Ali watched
with amazement; he had never seen Alec so emotion. "What do you plan to
do?"
"Explain my actions as best
I can and then marry her," Alec replied quietly.
Ali leaned back against the
stall, shoving Midas' great head away. "You intend to force her into this
marriage? Do you want St. Cloven so badly, Alec?"
Alec raised an eyebrow, staring
pensively at his boots. "Nay, I do not want the manor as badly as I want
its lady. I cannot explain my feelings, Ali. All I know is that I must have
Peyton as my wife. I think.... I think I need her."
"You need a woman who
incites you into acts of destruction?" Ali peered closely at his friend.
"I have never known you to act in this manner. Obviously, she is very
beautiful, but I fail to see why you need to marry her. It's not.... not
because her hair is the color of Peter's, is it? Do you somehow see your
brother..?"
"Christ, no," Alec
waved him off irritably, pacing aimlessly to Midas' great head and tickling the
horse's silk nose out of pure habit. "Oh, hell, Ali. I do not know why I
need her. But I do, and I shall have her."