The Legend (20 page)

He was still expressionless, but
the tone of his voice changed dramatically. It was soft, almost pleading.
"You think me cold? What have I done to convey this to you?"

Peyton lowered her gaze. By his
tone, she understood that he was truly perplexed with her assessment and she
thought a moment on her reply. She had come this far in her admission and it
was only logical that she follow through. She had to work through whatever she
was feeling and deal with it.

"When I told you of James'
death, you suddenly became cold and distant. I was opening myself up to you,
Alec, and you stepped on my outstretched hand. When we speak of Ali, you become
defensive and hard.  When I questioned you about your dead brother, you became
a rock," she lifted her gaze to him. "It would seem that when I
attempt to know you personally, as you are to be my husband, you cut me off.
It's as if you do not want me to know you at all, so all that I know of you is
that you are an unfeeling, callous man merely concerned with your own wants and
needs."

He looked at her a moment,
suddenly seeing a great deal that he had been blind to all along. Of course she
professed her hate for him; he had given her very little reason to like him.

"I am sorry if it seems that
way. I assure you, my actions were never intentional," his voice was soft.
"I simply do not express myself as well as some and if I convey harshness
and insensitivity, it is unintentional. At least to you it is unintentional. I
never meant to imply that I was cold and unfeeling."

Peyton was somewhat appeased by
his apology, but he did not address her specific complaints. She had been
completely honest and expected the same of him.

"Why were you so cold after
I told you of James? We are you envious of his memory?"

"Of course not," he
snapped softly. "Nothing of the kind. ‘Tis just.... seeing the joust pole
and the scabbard brought back unpleasant memories of my own, 'tis all. I
apologize if I hurt your feelings, Peyton. You must believe I never meant
to."

Her self-protection vanished.
"What memories, Alec?" she whispered, winding her hand into his huge
warm palm and feeling his strength touch her. "Won't you tell me?"

He gazed at her a moment, feeling
her question to his soul. As much as he tried to ward off the memories, they
refused to bank and he felt his chest tighten with the familiar ache.  Looking
into the soft sapphire blue of her eyes, he could read comfort in the depths if
he would only relent. His knees suddenly weakened and he deposited himself on
the stairs, pulling her down with him.

Instead of sitting next to him,
she sat between his legs, still holding his hand. The anger, the hatred, the
confusion was forgotten as she patiently waited for him to speak. His head was
bowed, staring at the stone steps as his other hand came up to clasp her single
hand tightly in a two-fisted grip. It occurred to Peyton that the man Alec was
today, the unfeeling human with moments of brightness, shielded something much
deeper. She never realized that his demeanor was an act of self-protection,
just as hers was.

"Tell me, Alec," she
whispered, squeezing his hand. "I shall not bite you."

He smiled, a thin humorless
gesture. "I know your pain," he finally said, quiet and faint.
"The pain of losing a loved one. 'Tis a deep ache and I am too familiar
with it," his great head came up, the blue eyes soft. "I.... I cannot
speak of it, however. Since it happened I have not been able to speak of it.
But it is not because I do not trust you, nor is it because I have anything to
hide. I simply cannot speak on the subject."

She looked puzzled, her fingers
tenderly caressing his hands as big as trenchers. "What subject?"

She saw him swallow hard.
"My dead brother."

His pain was obvious. Without
knowing any details, her eyes stung with tears, for she only knew how miserable
she would be if a mishap ever befell Ivy. "Did this brother have a
name?"

"Peter," he whispered
and she barely heard him.

She paused a moment to ponder the
name, the mysterious dead brother. Then, she touched his head gently. "We
will not speak of him again. I will never mention his name in your
presence."

He continued to hold her hand tightly
and she continued to stroke his head like a child, feeling a good deal of pity
for the huge man. To her surprise, he suddenly chuckled and focused on her.
"He was a good deal like you, actually. Reddish-gold hair and a temper to
match. He used to drive me daft at times."

She lifted an eyebrow at him.
"Are you saying that I am your brother's revenge, sent to curse you for
the rest of your life?"

Alec smiled broadly, a beautiful
smile she found wonderful. He had the whitest teeth she had ever seen. "He
would be so cruel, yes. Your aunt hasn't had any visions of him, demanding
satisfaction on my mortal body?"

Peyton laughed. "Not that I
am aware of. And do not believe for one moment that he has possessed me."

His smile softened, his
expressionless face suddenly tender. "I would never think that."

He was vulnerable and Peyton's
heart ached for him. He needed comfort from her as badly as she needed his
understanding, and she cursed herself for being so stubborn towards him. Of
course she did not hate him; she probably never would, no matter what he said
or did. Suddenly Alec Summerlin wasn't as terrible as she had liked to imagine.

She couldn't help herself; she
leaned forward and kissed his smooth lips tenderly in a show of sympathy. Yet
the small kiss immediately turned into something far more passionate and she
gasped as Alec gathered her fiercely into his arms.

"No, Alec," she
whispered, speaking against his hungry lips.  "No more. We must wait until...."

"I do not want to
wait," he growled. "Whether I take you tonight or on our wedding
night, it makes no difference. I plan to take you every night for the rest of
eternity."

With her last shred of sanity,
Peyton pulled from his probing lips and turned away from him, trying to twist
from his iron grip. But he refused to let go and she ended up facing away from
him while his hot lips devoured the tender flesh at the nape of her neck.

"Oh, God, Alec..," she
breathed, struggling fiercely to retain her senses. "Would you please
stop? I cannot bear anymore of your attentions this night. My head is already
spinning."

"I shall make you forget
your head," he promised seductively. "I shall make you forget
everything if you will allow me."

She attempted to pull away from
him but he held her firm. "Nay, I shall not allow it. We are not married
yet and I refuse to allow you to sample your wedding gift early."

He started to laugh against her
neck and she could feel him shaking with mirth.  A smile crept onto her lips as
he held her tightly and continued to snicker. "Very well, then,” he
snorted. “But we must be married by tomorrow night or I shall surely go insane.
Do you suppose you will be ready by tomorrow?"

She yawned and snuggled against
him; he was warm and comforting. "Nay. You will simply have to
suffer."

"Vixen," he growled. “Ready
or not, we will wed tomorrow. Understood?"

"Aye, my lord," she
grinned, then paused a moment in thought. The mention of one marriage made her
think of a second prospective ceremony, and her smile faded as she was reminded
of her harsh words with Ivy earlier. She suddenly felt a great need to
apologize to her sister for their earlier argument. "When will Ali and Ivy
be married? Will it be a double ceremony?"

Alec's mirth faded. "I am
afraid not," he knew she would demand an explanation and he continued.
"To the church, Ali is an anomalistic half-man and half-beast, which is
why he is not a knight. The church considers him unworthy to bear the title,
just as they consider him unworthy to be a member of their religion."

Peyton's brow furrowed, understanding
why Ali had cut her off when she inquired about his knighthood. It only served
to reinforce her suspicion that she and Ivy hadn't been the only English to
react negatively to his dark color. But with the Ivy's gradual acceptance of
the man, Peyton found herself questioning her own reservations. She had trusted
Ivy's opinion before, more times that she could remember. She would trust her
now, too.

Her silent ponderings gave way to
a softly-spoken question. "Who made the decision regarding Ali's
knighthood?"

Alec’s eyes grew distant in
remembrance. "King Henry himself, almost thirteen years ago. Ali stood by
and watched all of the young men he had fostered with become knights. But he
never let his bitterness show. He stood by the altar, dressed in his finest
armor as his peers were inducted into the knighthood. He went through the
motions, the readings, the prayers, as if they were meant for him. Never once
did I see defeat in his eyes, but I knew differently. That night, we both
became quite drunk and it was the only time I have ever seen him cry."

Peyton's expression was soft with
pity. "How terrible for him. After training all of his life to be a
knight, how horrible to have been denied the final rite."

Alec nodded. "Even if by
some miracle the church would allow him to marry within their law, I doubt he
would do it. He holds a grudge against the white man's religion."

"Then who will perform the
ceremony?"

"A barrister, most likely.
They can be married within the boundaries of the laws of England, but the
church will not recognize the union."

Peyton turned to look at him.
"Does Ivy know this?"

"Undoubtedly she does by
now," he replied, his lips a mere inch or so from her own and thinking
heavily on kissing her again. "She has spent the entire evening with Ali
and his parents and I am sure they have explained things."

Peyton was not happy with the
situation and turned away before Alec could kiss her again. But she leaned her
head back against his great shoulder and sighed. "'Twill be a common-law marriage.
As if they were not married at all."

Alec was silent a moment.
"'Twill be legal nonetheless, within the laws of England."

Peyton did not reply. So Ivy's
marriage was to be common-law, unrecognizable by God. What of their children,
their heirs and descendants? Would their father have allowed such a marriage to
occur? Certainly not. Peyton wondered why Lord Brian was willing to allow a
marginally acceptable marriage take place, but she kept silent.

She suspected her protests would
not be well met by Alec, especially in light of his defensive manner when it
came to Ali. Alec would believe her protests were because of Ali's color, which
was far from the case. She had resigned herself to the man's dark appearance.
Her protests would have been the same for any suitor offering a common-law
marriage.

Still, the trouble plagued her
and she was hard pressed to remain silent on the matter.

Behind her, she heard Alec sigh
softly, his breath hot against her neck. Her thoughts were diverted for the
moment as delicious shivers danced down her spine, tingling her arms, heating
her belly.

"You and Ivy did not want to
be married, remember? I suspect a common-law marriage is better than none at
all and considering the appearance you two put forth the day of your initial
arrival, you are lucky to have any offer at all."     

There was a certain amount of
humor to the statement and Peyton grinned slyly, turning to look at him.
"I doubt a blind man would have been smitten with the image we
presented."

"With good reason,"
Alec agreed. "Hideous!"

She laughed softly, pleased that
she and Ivy had been able to accomplish a small part of their grand scheme.
However, she realized she was pleased that the overall attempt had failed.

In spite of every tumultuous
feeling she had experienced, she was beginning to feel comfortable with Alec in
a completely different sense than she had felt comfortable with James. It was
difficult to describe the dissimilarities, but she knew one thing; she liked
Alec's arms around her. She liked being enfolded in his huge, strong body,
whereas James had been considerably smaller. His embraces had not been nearly
so satisfying and she thought herself wicked for thinking poorly of him.

"How is your head?"
Alec asked after a moment.

"Rebelling against me,"
she said softly. "Does Pauly truly have a potion to make the ache
stop?"

"Pauly has a potion for
everything," Alec said frankly. "After I put you to bed, I shall go
and see him."

"Jubil has a potion for
everything, too, only her concoctions seem to be limited to things like love
potions and virility and childbirth elixirs. Not exactly the kinds of brews I
find useful."

"You may have need of a
childbirth elixir if we are so blessed in the future," Alec said
thoughtfully. "Unless, of course, you would rather be quite manly about
the whole thing and shun all forms of relief. Pain is terribly male."

She rolled her eyes at his awful
sense of humor.

"Alec, you are a beast. Take
me to my room immediately before this conversation goes any further."