The Legend (38 page)

"No!" Ivy roared.
"I shall not marry him! I shall kill him first!"

Alec was calm, watching the woman
work up a wild rage. He kept recollecting Peyton's words, how Colin raped young
girls and left children to die, and how Nigel himself had raped Jubil even if
they could not prove it. He also remembered the scene in the bailey when Colin
had moved threateningly toward Peyton, and it was apparent that he was not a
man of mercy or conscience. Even if Ivy could hold her own against him in a
fight, he seriously doubted she could survive to a ripe old age in the House of
Warrington. Being an aggressive woman was one strike against her, but being a
de Fluornoy was a death sentence.

All of Alec's indecision left
him. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that he could not be a party to the
misery of his wife's sister. Nor could he betray his friend. There was far more
to this than he could comprehend and his head was spinning already from the
enormity of events, but he could understand one thing quite clearly; Ivy could
not marry Colin.

Family loyalty!
He turned away from Ivy,
clenching his fists as his eyes fell on Peyton. Christ, she was his family now,
was she not? She and St. Cloven were his, no matter what his father said or
did, even if saving Ivy from the slimy grip of Colin Warrington cast an
irreversible shadow on his relationship with Brian.

He loved his father, as much as a
son could love a father, but he could not allow such a horrible transgression
to take place with his full knowledge. How would he ever explain Ivy's
betrothal to Peyton when he himself did not fully understand? His father had
asked him to trust him; he did trust him. Undeniably. But in this matter, he
trusted his instincts more. He had to remove Ivy before the Warringtons could
get their claws into her.

He reached out and grasped Ivy,
forcing her to look at him. "Do you trust me?"

Ivy was fully prepared to punch
him in the nose and curse him, but the look in his eyes was so intense that she
stopped in mid-rage. There was something in his gaze.... "Aye, I do."

His jaw ticked as he released
her. "Then pack a small satchel. I shall return shortly and Do not let
anyone through that door but myself or Toby. Do you understand? Not even my
father."

Ivy nodded unsteadily and he
moved to the door with determination, his gaze resting on his wife once more as
he realized that he was about to commit an offense against his father not
merely for the loyalty of a friend, but for the happiness of a newly acquired
relative.

He was doing it for his wife. God
help him, he was willing to risk everything for her.

The door slammed and the room
shook to the rafters. Ivy bolted the oak panel as if to lock out the Devil
himself.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Peyton slept through Ivy's
departure, through Brian's raging, through Nigel's furious protests. Celine,
exhausted with the death of her grandson, had taken to her bed ill and was
unable to deal with the angry men wreaking havoc in her solar. Only Thia was
left to weather the storm by her father's side, gravely concerned for his color
and wondering when their peaceful life at Blackstone careened so terribly out
of control. However, it was not difficult to isolate the catalyst.

Lady Peyton Summerlin slept
soundly as a violent confrontation shook the very walls of Blackstone. Nigel
against Brian, curses and shouted words, pleas for understanding and patience;
she was completely unaware that she had been the window through which the Devil
had entered do his work. She dreamt once, of Alec, but when she tried to touch
him he had vanished. After that, her slumber had been dreamless. Thankfully, no
nightmares of dead babies plagued her.

She was further oblivious to Thia
Summerlin’s dark thoughts of her, the hatred building within the soul of the
woman. Thia had been indifferent to Peyton after their confrontation, and she
surprisingly thought she might grow to tolerate the woman who stood against her
so admirably in a verbal conflict. But listening to her father's exhausted,
angry voice and watching Nigel Warrington spew threats, she knew at that moment
that she could never tolerate such a disruptive force within the walls of
Blackstone.

Everything had been so right
before she came. She was beautiful, though not Thia's usual taste. Her taste
ran to young serving girls and nubile villiens she could convince to join her
in same-sex frolics. No one knew of her strange lusts, the carnal improprieties
that she indulged in. Her parents simply thought she hated men because she was
afraid of them, and she would allow them to believe what they would. Marrying a
member of the opposite sex did, indeed, frighten her.    She wanted no part of
it.

What she wanted most at this
moment, however, was to be rid of her brother's wife. She could deduce from the
conversation that Lady Peyton had been the primary objective, and that Lady Ivy
had come secondly. Thia watched impassively as Nigel spitefully broke a rare
Grecian artifact her father had collected in Athens; if there was some way to
deliver the Warringtons what they so apparently desired, two problems would be
solved quite nicely. Blackstone would return to normal and the Warringtons
would have the bitch. All would be well again.

If there was only a way.

***

Peyton awoke to Alec's pale face.
The room was dark but for a small fire in the hearth to ward off the cool
dampness and she immediately sat up, rubbing her eyes. He smiled weakly at her.

"It's nearly time for
supper, love," he said softly.

She gazed at him sleepily,
Jubil's potion still working. Absently, she touched Alec's cheek and looked about
the room. "Good lord, how long have I been asleep?"

He covered her hand as it touched
his face with his warm palm. "Several hours. How do you feel?"

"Tired," she yawned.
"I feel as if I could sleep for days."

"Eat first. We will retire
early tonight, I promise."

She nodded and yawned again,
noticing for the first time how drawn and tired Alec appeared. He helped her
from the bed silently, none of the usual warmth in his expression. In fact, he
seemed unusually withdrawn.

"What's wrong, darling? You
are quiet."

He glanced at her, preparing to
evade her question but thinking better of it. She would find out soon enough
and it was unfair not to prepare her for what was to come. He motioned her to
sit at the vanity, and as she picked up her horsehair brush he spoke.

"My father reconsidered his
position on the marriage of Ali and Ivy. 'Twould seem that Nigel Warrington was
able to convince him that a marriage between Ivy and Colin would be most
beneficial for Ivy's sake, and my father agreed."

The horsehair brush clattered to
the ground in mid-stroke and Peyton bolted from the bench. "No, Alec! She
cannot!"

He put his hand on her arms
soothingly. "I know, love, I know," he said patiently. "This is
why I spirited your sister out of Blackstone and delivered her to Ali not two
hours ago. They should already be married by now."

In his grasp, Peyton relaxed so
violently that she nearly collapsed and Alec crushed her against his hard
chest. "Oh, Alec," she breathed. "Why has this happened? Why did
your father change his mind again?"

"I Do not know," he
admitted honestly, caressing her. "But I knew that I could not allow the
marriage to take place. Needless to say, my father is livid."

She looked at him, her eyes soft.
"Did you tell him what you did?"

"He guessed; the man is no
fool, especially after our elopement. Futhermore, the Warringtons are outraged
and the mood in general is strained."

Peyton gazed at him a moment,
moving to stroke his stubbled cheek. "You did this for me."

He met her gaze, blue on blue.
"And for Ali and Ivy. How presumptuous of you to imagine that I would risk
my hide for you alone."

She grinned and kissed his cheek
sweetly. "Thank you, my Alec. From the bottom of my heart."

He kissed her palm and released
her, moving for the pewter ale pitcher near the window sill. She continued to
watch his movements, those of a man with a good deal on his mind, and she was
grateful that he would risk himself for the sake of her and her sister. She was
only just becoming to realize the depths of the man she had married and
furthermore realizing just how fortunate she was. A man she had sworn to hate,
once. A man she could never hate.

"Where are Ali and Ivy
now?" she asked softly.

"Truthfully, I Do not know.
I told them to stay out of sight for several weeks and then contact me at St.
Cloven. If I know Ali, He shall most likely sail to France and wait
there."

"Why?"

"To get Ivy out of
England," he turned to her, cup in hand. "Since their marriage will
only be considered common law, it is imperative that he remove her from the
country until the situation stabilizes. Technically, the Warringtons can claim
Ivy as stolen property and Ali could be thrown in the vault as a thief."

Peyton gasped, her eyes wide.
"They would not!"

He smiled wryly. "From the
noise going on in the great hall, I would not be surprised if the Warringtons
declared war on all of us. They're righteously outraged, as is my father, and
all of the anger is directed at me."

Peyton digested his words,
turning away and feeling a good amount of guilt. She knew Alec had acted on her
behalf no matter what he said. Aye, she was equally to share in the blame and
she knew it. The most logical solution would be to return to St. Cloven
immediately and remain until the climate cooled.

"Then we should leave for
home right away," she said softly. "The sooner you are removed, the
sooner tempers can ease."

He nodded. "You are right,
of course. But I hesitate abandoning my family after what I have caused and
after the death of the babe...." he suddenly looked at his wife, troubled
by his tactless slip. He saw her brow furrow with sadness and gently sought to
ease her. "I am sorry you had be witness to a most distressing event,
sweetheart. If there is anything I can do...."

"My mother bore three dead
children after Ivy and I were born, all male," she said, swallowing the
tightness in her throat. "'Tis not a strange occurrence."

She was trying to be brave and he
respected her determination, unwilling to weaken it by extending more
apologies. He felt bad enough for his dead nephew, but such was the way of
things sometimes. He drained his cup and set it down with a resounding clang.

"Did my mother say anything
about our marriage?"

She shook her head, swallowing
her sorrow. "Not a word. In fact, she was exceedingly sweet to me. She
even kissed me."

He smiled faintly, knowing that
his mother supported their marriage even if her husband at this moment was most
likely wishing he had never heard of Lady Peyton de Fluornoy. Pleased with her
show of acceptance towards his new wife, a bright spot in an otherwise hellish
afternoon, he sighed and put his hands on his hips. "If we are leaving for
home tonight, we must pack. I shall see about locating Jubil and return her to
help you load your bags."

"Where is she?" Peyton
asked.

"With Toby, somewhere,"
Alec snorted softly. "He seems fascinated by her, convinced she great
sorceress."

Peyton rolled her eyes to let him
know just what she thought of her aunt's powers. "Do not let him believe
that. She is a mere woman, knowledgeable in herbs and potions, but it does not
go beyond that."

"She believes she is a
witch," Alec said with a faint grin.

Peyton shook her head, removing a
satchel from the wardrobe. "Did she tell you that? Did she also tell you
that she is Athena, Goddess of Wisdom? Or her more recent claim is that she is
the deity Cybele, the asexual dominate."

His eyebrows rose as he watched
her pack, feeling himself calming with the ale in his veins. "Christ,
where did she hear about Cybele?"

"Jubil is an intelligent
woman, well-read thanks to my father's library. Sometimes, during her trances,
she claims she is Cybele and that she is in need of claiming a lover,"
Peyton shook her head with disgust. "What we have yet to figure out is if
she means a male or female lover. In myth, Cybele possessed both female and
male genitalia."

"Until she cut off her male
organ and became female," Alec finished, remembering his ancient Greek
mythology. "And, as I recall, she gained a male lover, became insanely
jealous and in turn drove her lover mad. He then castrated himself and
died."

Peyton nodded, packing her
satchel. "She worries me sometimes, Alec. It seems as if the older she
grows, the more unbalanced she becomes."

"She would never hurt you,
would she?" Alec asked, wondering if he should seek to repress the aging
aunt at some point in time.

"Nay, she would not. But she
might inadvertently hurt herself and that frightens me."

Alec pondered her statement a
moment before draining his cup and pouring himself more ale. Peyton finished
packing one satchel and began stuffing another.

"She said something strange
once," Peyton said softly, thinking aloud. "She referred to your
sister as the woman with a taste for female flesh. Do you know what she could
have meant?"

Alec gazed at her emotionlessly.
"Did you ask her?"

"I have not yet had the
chance," Peyton turned to the wardrobe and forgot all about her question
to Alec. "I am going to string Ivy up by her ankles! She took my bronze
satin gown when she knows very well it doesn't fit her. And.... Good Lord, she
took the shoes too. They'll be ruined by her fat feet!"

Alec watched his wife rant and
curse her sister, deeply relieved that she had forgotten her inquiry about Thia.
He wasn't so sure she would like his answer and, for that matter, he would not
have liked his answer, either. His younger sister thought she had everyone in
the dark about her appetites, but Alec had heard the rumors and once, he'd even
seen a smidgen of truth. It was something, however, he did not like to think
on.

Peyton packed three large
satchels, completely clearing out the wardrobe. Jubil had a small satchel that
she hadn't even bothered to unpack in the first place and it sat in a cluttered
mess against the wall. Securing it, Peyton put the four bags on the bed and
turned to her husband, who was on his fourth cup of ale.

"Aren't you going to pack,
darling?" she asked.

He was studying her. In fact, he
hadn't taken his eyes off her since he had entered the room and the alcohol in
his veins flushed his cheeks and gave him a half-lidded appearance.

"Nay," he answered
softly. "I am not going to pack anything. I shall ride to St. Cloven with
my wife and the clothes on my back and nothing more."

Puzzled at his response, she
lowered her gaze as if to check her baggage again and make sure all was
present. She heard Alec set his chalice to the table and his heavy boot falls
came near. She wasn't surprised when thick, warm arms embraced her tightly and
she could smell the ale on his breath.

"Alec," she gasped as
his mouth devoured her neck. "Do not we have to leave? You said...."

"I am fully aware of what I
said," he whispered against her. He continued to suckle on her neck as she
waited for him to go on with his reply, her passion rapidly flowering. Another
few moments and she would not care if he answered her or not.

Just as his mouth reached her
lips and she opened her mouth to him, he stopped and gazed at her with
seduction-hazed eyes.

"You and St. Cloven are all
I have. After this night, I fully expect to be disowned," his expression
suddenly went vulnerable and she was shocked by the fragility she read in his
eyes. "Do not ever leave me, Peyton. I couldn't stand it."