The Legend (39 page)

She touched his face tenderly.
"I shall never leave you, my Alec. I promise. St. Cloven and I are all you
will ever need."

He was as emotional as she had
ever seen him and she eagerly fused her mouth to his, reassuring him that come
what may, she would stand by him. He had already sacrificed so very much for
her and she would not disappoint him. She couldn't have left him if she wanted
to. She loved him.

.... good-bye, James.

***

Alec had been gone for some time
as Peyton paced the floor of her bedchamber impatiently. Jubil, seated by the
lancet windows, watched her niece closely.

"Do not fret,
sweetheart," Jubil said quietly. "Alec has merely gone to retrieve
the horses, not turned tail for the border."

"I know that," Peyton
snapped. "But He is been gone a long time. Mayhap I should go look for
him. He might have gotten into trouble."

Jubil did not answer;
clear-minded today, she wasn't sure how to reply. All she knew was that Alec
Summerlin had surpassed even her expectations as a husband. Surely no man had
made a greater sacrifice for his wife and her family. She furthermore suspected
that Peyton realized her good fortune and was already deeply attached to her
new husband, whether or not she realized it.

But Peyton was indeed aware,
hence her uneasy manner. Her patience evaporated, she halted her pacing and
stared at the chamber door as if imagining herself walking forth in search of
her errant husband. Not content merely to envision, she moved to the door
quickly.

"I shall find him," she
told her aunt. "Wait here, Jubil. For Heaven's sake, Do not leave."

Jubil nodded faintly. "Take
care, sweetheart. The halls of Blackstone abound with threats."

Peyton slanted her aunt a puzzled
gaze; however, the expression was not without some apprehension. She knew her
aunt to be free of her stimulants and she pondered the warning. Lacking the
time or interest to ask her what she meant, she stole from the room and shut
the door softly.

The halls were dim with impending
dusk. The torches in their iron sconces were burning brightly with new flame,
illuminating the hall as Peyton traversed the stone with soft footfalls. She
could hear voices, servants down the corridor, but she ignored them as she made
her way to the stairs.

As she mounted the top step, she
could hear strains of voices from down below; male voices that caught her
attention. She thought she heard Brian, mayhap Nigel, but she could not be
sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she did not hear Alec's voice.
Silently, she descended the stairs.

The first floor was bustling with
servants in preparation for the evening meal. Peyton moved down a narrow
corridor, away from the grand hall and Lord Brian's solar, in hopes of locating
an exit without having to pass by the two larger rooms. Her intention was to
find a servant's entrance and slip to the stables in search of her husband.

The corridor branched off and she
took the path to the left, entering a dimly lit passageway. She thought she
caught sight of a large door at the far end of the hall and she set her sights
on it, knowing from its placement that it must lead to the bailey. The passage
was void of activity and the further she traveled, the more hushed it became.
It was an eerie silence, cloying and empty, and Peyton heard her footfalls
loudly as she moved toward the large oaken panel.

In her quest, she slipped past a
door that was not quite closed; an inch of space separated it from the
doorjamb. Just as Peyton moved by, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a woman
moaning. Shocked, she paused and listened intently, hearing another rattling
moan. A deep, throaty echo that made her hair stand on end.

Suddenly deterred from the door
she had been seeking, genuine concern welled within her and she took a step
toward the cracked door, placing her hand on the panel as she listened. Just as
she touched the aged oak, she heard another groan, low and mournful, and she
instantly decided that something must be terribly wrong. Someone was in a great
deal of pain. Forcefully, she shoved the door open with the full intention of
helping.

But what she beheld shocked her
beyond belief. A serving wench lay upon her back, her skirts hiked up around
her waist as another female of rotund proportions went to work between her
legs. It took Peyton a mere half-second to recognize Thia, her face pressed in
to the wench's private parts, moaning with great pleasure as she stroked her
long and hard with her tongue. Peyton could scarcely believe what she was
witnessing; her throat tightened with bile or a scream, she could not be sure.
But the one fact she knew for certain was that she had to leave as quickly as
she had come.

Thia's head came up when she
heard the wench gasp. Peyton stumbled back and tripped over her own feet,
nearly landing on her bottom as her astonishment nearly incapacitated her.  But
as she struggled to maintain her balance, Thia was through the door and bearing
down on her with the most horrifying gleam to her eye.

Thia was fast, but Peyton was
faster. She rolled away from Alec's sister, scrambling to her feet. Thia
snatched at her, snagging her gown and slowing her momentum, but Peyton yanked
herself free and dug her heels into the floor with the full intention of
out-running her pursuer. Unquestionably, Thia meant to do her serious harm and
Peyton's chest swelled with panic; she had to make it to the safety of the
grand hall.

As Peyton bordered on panic, Thia
bordered on madness. Her brother's wife had discovered her secret and must be
made to pay. She did not stop to wonder how she would explain Peyton's death to
Alec; mayhap she would deny knowledge all together. Whatever rationalization
she formulated would come later; for now, she had an immediate need to silence
the one person who could do her harm.         Peyton was unable to get far
before Thia threw herself forward and tripped, grabbing Peyton around the
ankle. Peyton fell hard, smacking her head on the stone. Dazed but not
senseless, she began struggling violently with Thia, kicking and punching as
the woman attempted to enclose her in an iron grip.

Thia struck out and punched
Peyton in the stomach, enough to knock the wind from her, but Peyton did not
give in to the pain. Instead, she lashed out and raked her fingernails across
Thia's plump face and drew blood.

"You bitch!" Thia's
hand went to her bloodied cheek, to the wounds which would undoubtedly leave
scars. Peyton, terrified, slipped out from underneath her and attempted to
regain her footing.

But Thia was hell-bent on
disabling her victim. She balled her fist and smashed Peyton on the back of the
head, but her victim did not waver. Instead, Peyton tried to scratch her again,
unsuccessfully, as she wobbled to stand.  Thia thrust her big hands out to stop
her but Peyton knocked them away, breaking free.

On her feet again, Peyton resumed
her run down the hall with much less speed and a good deal more staggering. Thia,
exhausted and bleeding, charged after her.

Toby suddenly appeared at the end
of the hall, his blue eyes gazing at the struggling women with astonishment.
Peyton saw him in front of her and dashed toward him, reaching him a
split-second before Thia crashed into her from behind and grabbed a handful of
luscious red hair. Screams and grunts filled the corridor.

Toby could scarcely believe what
he was witnessing. He thrust his wide frame in between the two women,
attempting desperately to unwind Thia's grip from Peyton's hair. All the while,
Thia continued to slug at Peyton's head, sometimes making contact, and Toby was
beside himself.

"Thia!" he bellowed.
"Stop it! You will kill her!"

Thia wasn't listening to her
half-brother. She continued to strike and strike until Peyton turned on her,
lashing out with her foot and kicking her in the tender shin. Thia winced and
loosened her grip, and Peyton drove her fist squarely into her pug nose.

Thia's grip relaxed and she fell
backward, out of Toby's grasp. Peyton suddenly found herself free of the
vise-like grasp and stumbled away, tripping, and landing on her knees. Toby
moved to subdue Thia before she could attack Peyton again.

But Thia would not be controlled
so easily. She swung her big fists at Toby, catching him in the mouth. He
grunted, but easily reined the wild woman. Peyton, meanwhile, was so shaken she
couldn't seem to stand. She remained on her knees, trembling and dazed, as Thia
resisted Toby's restraint.

Heavy boot falls sounded down the
corridor, the sounds of men approaching from the direction of the grand hall.
Peyton did not even look up; she was close to retching, trying desperately to
gain a handle on her reeling senses. The first voice she heard was Brian's.

"God's Blood! What is going
on?" Brian boomed, his big hands on Peyton's shoulders.

Peyton couldn't answer him; she
began to cry and Brian looked to his frenzy-eyed daughter with shock. "Thia!
What's happened?"

Thia seemed to be losing some of
her madness as she realized her father was speaking to her. She ceased to
grapple against Toby's iron grip and focused her small blue eyes on Brian.

"I....I..," she
swallowed hard, struggling for a convincing reply. "She was spying on
me!" 

Peyton raised her head in a great
frenzy of wild red hair. "I did no such thing! How dare you accuse me of
subversion!"

Brian looked to Toby, who met his
liege's gaze unwaveringly. "When I came upon them, Lady Thia was in
pursuit of Lady Peyton. She is dealt her a serious beating."

Brian looked to Peyton and
attempted to help her to stand, but Peyton was far too shaken to rise to her
feet. Instead, she sat heavily on her bottom.

"Peyton, are you all
right?" Brian asked seriously, baffled with the entire situation.

Peyton opened her mouth to speak,
but sobs suddenly bubbled forth and she buried her face in her hands. "I
want Alec!"

Brian removed his hands from his
hysterical daughter-in-law and straightened, his hard gaze on Thia. "I
would know what happened immediately," he slanted a gaze at his startled
steward. "Find Alec. Now."

The man dashed off and Brian
returned his focus to his daughter. "Answer me, Thia."

Thia was calming rapidly as she
realized the gravity of the situation. It was obvious her father was not to
side with her, instead, choosing to side with the bitch. She flushed mightily.

"I told you, father. She was
spying on me and tried to harm me."

Brian did not believe her for a
moment, but he dutifully turned the question to Peyton. "My lady?"

Peyton removed her hands from her
face, her gaze hot and angry on Thia. "I wasn't spying. I was looking for
Alec and came across Thia.... in a room."

Brian's eyebrows drew together.
"And? And what?"

Peyton focused on Thia's
threatening stare, her terror being replaced by sheer anger and disgust. How
could she tell Brian what she saw? She could barely think on it without
becoming ill much less repeat the distasteful facts. As she struggled to find
an answer, approaching boot falls distracted her attention.

Nigel and Colin stood in the
hall, several feet behind Brian. Brian passed the men a glance, startled that
they had not kept to the comfort of the grand hall, instead, choosing to pursue
the sounds of struggle that had lured Brian from their company. The two were an
unwelcome distraction and Brian impatiently focused on them.

"I apologize for the
interruption," he said, although he did not mean it. Tension were so high
that Peyton and Thia's fight had actually provided him with a break. "'Tis
nothing but a ladies' squabble. Retreat to the grand hall and I shall join you
momentarily."

His request went ignored. Colin
strolled forward and eyed the two women, the rake across Thia's cheek and
Peyton's flushed face. "It appears to be more than a simply tussle, my
lord." Much to Brian's dismay, his attention focused on Thia. "What's
the matter, my lady? Did she spurn your advances?"

Nigel snickered and Thia tensed
in Toby's grasp, her face flushing a deep, startled red. Before Brian could
lodge a strenuous protest, Peyton struggled to her knees. "Certainly you
only have your own rejection experiences to relate to," she said
breathlessly. "What occurs between the members of the House of Summerlin
is none of your affair, Warrington."

Colin's face went taut with rage
and he twitched in Peyton's direction, but his father stepped forward.
"Nay, lad. She is Alec's wife."

Colin struggled with himself a
moment, well remembering the beating Alec had dealt him earlier. Angry or no,
he had no desire to provoke him again. Instead, his clenched his fists behind
his back and glared at Peyton. Peyton met his gaze unwaveringly, although her
head was swimming and her knees weak. Somehow, her hatred for him was strength
in of itself.

"Where has your sister gone,
Lady Summerlin?"

From one focus to another, the
subject had shifted from Peyton and Thia's fight to Ivy's whereabouts. Peyton
rose to unsteady feet, assisted by Brian. Her eyes were blades of sapphire,
deadly and sharp.