The Legend (42 page)

"She hates me," she whispered.

He sighed deeply, hearing the
song of a distant night bird. "Nay, she does not. She is simply
overwrought with the turn of recent events."

Peyton did not say anything for a
moment. "Did your father truly disinherit you?"

"So he says. That will remain
to be seen."

"Is that why you were gone
so long this evening? You said that you were merely going to see to your horses
and nothing about speaking with your father."

"'Twas my intention to
secure my Saracens and assemble a traveling party, which I did. The
confrontation with my father was secondary."

"Confrontation?"

He snorted softly. "Indeed.
After the lashing he'd been dealt by the Warringtons, it was inevitable that he
would come after me with a vengeance. I half-expected the Warrington dogs to
hound me as well."

"Why should they? They have Thia
now."

He did not say anything for a
moment. "Not if I can think of a way to release her from her bind."

"But what of your father?
You said yourself he'd kill you if you interfered again."

"Figuratively. Well, mayhap
literally. At any rate, I cannot allow my only sister to be swallowed up by
those bastards." He did not say anything about her dislike for men, or how
Colin's marital rights would be received by a woman who disliked the male
species. But he couldn't help ponder the valid question. The only answers he
seemed to come up with were ugly, violent scenarios.

The mood had grown far too heavy
for Peyton's tastes and she could feel the weight of Alec's melancholy like a
blanket. He was trying too hard to pretend that all would be well, eventually,
when in fact a great rift had risen between him and his family. And through it
all, she knew she was the cause.

Aye, everything he had done had
been for her, she knew that. She'd never asked, nor had there ever been a
spoken word between them on the subject, but she knew just the same. He said
once that he would die for her. He would do anything for her. She believed him
unquestionably.

She sat up, twisting slightly to
look at him under the three-quarter moon. A faint smile creased her lips.
"Were you given the choice, whom would you send to the Warringtons? Thia
or me?"

He did not hesitate.
"You."

"Is that so?" she
raised an eyebrow.

He cracked a smile as she made
faces at him in the moon glow, anything to splinter his rigid expression. She
laughed softly when he crossed his eyes like a goon in response to her hideous
expressions.

"I have caused you much
trouble, my Alec. Mayhap I should present myself to the Warringtons as a peace
offering and then all would be right between you and your family again."

His smile vanished. He pulled her
against him, tightly, and she sighed deeply with his comfort. "You are my
family."

High above them against the silk
black sky, an owl soared across the moon.

***

St. Cloven was softly lit by a
scarce few torches as the party approached. A few bellowed words from Alec to
the sentries at the gate prompted the massive oaken panel to slowly groan open.
And as the gate began to yawn wide for its new master, St. Cloven soldiers went
scurrying inside the manse with news that Alec Summerlin and his wife, the Lady
Peyton, were returned.

Alec had brought seventy-five
men-at-arms with him from Blackstone, elite soldiers that he personally
claimed, men who had fought with him and his father in the Holy Land. They were
men who knew Alec before his vow had stilled his sword. The only knight he had
brought was Toby, the others having sworn fealty to his father and were
therefore required to remain at Blackstone. But one knight was all he needed as
Toby took charge of the men with unmistakable authority and Alec was pleased
with his little brother's fortitude.

Peyton was asleep in front of
Alec when he rode through the gates, an unusual deep sleep. But she quickly
roused when he gently shook her awake and Jubil was at her side when she
dismounted Midas.  Clearheaded, Jubil insisted on escorting the groggy Peyton
inside while Alec saw to his men.

Gratefully, Alec was able to
focus on the positioning of his sentries. With the Warringtons' fury, he wasn't
at all sure that they would not try to take what they had been denied and he
would not be caught unaware.  In fact, as he watched his wife and her aunt
retire to the great hulking manse of St. Cloven, he considered writing Edward
to request more soldiers. He wanted to make sure Peyton, and St. Cloven, was
safe.

After she disappeared inside, he
forgot his wife for the moment and went about inspecting his keep. As Toby saw
to the unloading of the wagon, Alec supervised the settling of his excitable
Saracens and made sure Midas was livered. With the animals made comfortable, he
moved on to the soldier's accommodations.

The team-house where the small
force of St. Cloven was housed was a well-kept place, if not a bit cramped.
Alec and Toby solved the space problem as his men settled in, and then the two
knights proceeded to move about the entire perimeter of the keep to inspect the
wall, her weaknesses, and her strengths.  As Alec talked, Toby yawned, and Alec
dismissed his sheepish brother with a slap to the back of the head. Alec knew
it was late to be attempting a task that could be just as easily completed in
the morn, but he was so excited to be home that he simply could not contain
himself. His home.

He forced himself away from the
fortified wall and on to the immediate tasks that could not wait until
daybreak. When the caravan was completely disassembled and the wagon was on its
way to the livery to be stowed, he decided to seek his bed for the remaining
hours of the night.

The interior of St. Cloven smelled
wonderful and warm, not at all like the stale halls of Blackstone. His former
home possessed a distinct must, whereas St. Cloven smelled of cedar and fresh
rushes, and he noticed the intricately worked cedar posts in the archway of the
great hall and the large solar.  In fact, nearly every room possessed a cedar
door and related cedar work, and he inhaled the scent deeply. He remembered the
smell from his childhood as peculiar and strong, but now he thought it to be
delightful.

He heard footfalls behind him,
whispers against the stone, and turned to face the approaching party. Jubil's
fair face gazed up at him.

"Toby is in the chamber
immediately at the top of the stairs," she told him. "I thought you
would want him situated to protect the stairwell."

"Wise, my lady," Alec
said quietly. "And where is my wife?"

"In your chamber, of
course," Jubil said with a twinkle in her eye. "I doubt she is
asleep. You'd better hurry before she comes looking for you."

The corners of his mouth
twitched. "She would, would not she? I have come to see that my wife is
lacking in patience."

Jubil shrugged. "A trait
that can be improved upon. Mayhap having a gaggle of children will force her to
learn the attribute."

Alec nodded, glancing at the
massive stone and oak staircase. "If we are indeed so blessed," he
moved toward the steps. "Good sleep to you, Jubil."

His boot barely hit the bottom
stair when he heard Jubil behind him. "You are already so blessed, my
lord."

He couldn't help himself from
halting his ascension, turning to peer curiously at the aged aunt. "And
just how would you know that?"

Jubil smiled broadly, her blue
eyes glittering in the dim torchlight. "Look at her, Alec. Can you not see
that your seed has taken root?
Look
at her."

He had no idea what to say and
did not dare to hope that Jubil spoke the truth. After all, it had only been a
matter of days and there was no way Peyton could have known that she had
conceived in that time. Thoughtfully, he mounted the remainder of the stairs
and made way to his chamber.

The master chamber was warm and
dim, the light from the blazing hearth affording the only illumination. Alec
entered the room quietly, his eyes grazing the surroundings; the bed was
prepared and fresh rushes littered the floor. Closing the door softly behind
him, he looked about for his wife.

She wasn't hard to find. Peyton
stepped from the shadows clad in a shift made from the finest silk, spider-web
thin, with ribbons of gold woven through it. It covered her completely from
head to toe, yet obscured none of her beautiful body from his lusty gaze. One
look at her and his mouth began to water.

"Welcome home, my
lord," she said seductively.

He grinned, a nervous, excited
gesture. "'Tis good to be home."

She moved into the light and all
he could do was stare at her body though the screen of the transparent shift.
"Christ, Peyton, you look.... magnificent."

"I should hope so," she
purred, moving close enough to run her hand erotically from his narrow waist to
his shoulder. "I have been waiting for you."

He grabbed the wandering hand and
her with it. Peyton laughed softly as she found herself gripped against his
mighty chest. His eyes blazed at her, the heat of his gaze searing her flesh
and she licked her lips instinctively, waiting for his delicious mouth to descend
upon her. He grinned when he saw her pink tongue flick about her lips, his
great head dipping lower and lower.

"Wait no longer, then."

Alec suckled her mouth so hard
that she was sure he had bruised her.  She responded to him wildly, without
reserve, and in little time they had made short work of his traveling tunic.
The garment came off and Peyton couldn't take her mouth from his magnificent
chest, lapping the salty musk from his skin and biting delicately at his
nipples. She could feel his hands in her hair, the whispered inflections of her
name riding on his breath.

With every passing moment, she
grew bolder and bolder until she grasped his engorged manhood through his hose,
stroking the length of it.

"Peyton...." he
whispered.

"Nay, my Alec," she returned
softly, pushing his hands away as they attempted to remove his breeches. "I
shall do it. I shall do everything."

He was breathing heavily,
watching the top of her head, feeling the molten liquid strands caressing his
heated flesh. Gently, and a bit awkwardly, she released him from his breeches
and lowered them to his knees. Without hesitation, her hot hands closed over
his swollen organ and began to stroke it tenderly. He watched her, fascinated
and consumed, as she inspected his manhood.

She continued to fondle him, her
bravery growing. He waited impatiently for her to ask him for suggestions on
how to fulfill his pleasure, but she seemed content to simply stroke him. For
now, he was content with that as well. But his tolerance would not hold out indefinitely.

Which was why he was completely
surprised when she lowered her head and stroked his manhood with her tongue,
from the testicles to the ruby-red crown. He jumped at the action, grasping her
by the hair and forcing her to look at him. His gaze bordered on rage.

"Where in the hell did you
learn to do that?" he demanded hoarsely.

She grinned, embarrassed.
"The cook's daughters are free with their advice. Ivy and I have learned
much by listening to them."

His instant relief weakened him.
His imagination had run wild in that split second, and he realized he was
consumed with jealousy and rage when he thought of his sweet wife pleasuring
her dead betrothed in the same manner. He could see Peyton's mouth coming to
bear on the pulsing organ of a faceless knight and his possessiveness nearly
devoured him. The alleviation at her admission was indescribable.

"I see," he rasped.
"And what else did you learn listening to the trollops?"

Her grin broadened. "I did
not truly learn anything, merely ingested for future reference. I have yet to
actually attempt to practice."

He dipped his head low, kissing
her fully on her ripe lips. "You may continue your practice."

She did, eagerly. When she
realized she could turn him into a writhing mass of flesh simply by putting her
mouth over the head of his manhood and suckling hard, she continued with her
torture until Alec weakly begged for reprieve. She fully ignored his cries;
before he realized it, she had maneuvered him into a chair and knelt between
his legs, her hot mouth working him into a frenzy. With every stroke and every
suckle, he was thrust further and further toward the point of rapture.

He was delirious; he wanted to
bury his manhood deep within the recesses of her sweet body, but her mouth was
ecstasy beyond words. With her hair splayed over his naked thighs and groin, he
was incapable of summoning the effort to stop her onslaught so they could
retire to the bed. All he could feel was Peyton's luscious mouth.

He erupted as she continued to
suckle. First, she tasted the saltiness of his seed, and then she watched,
fascinated, as he spent himself. The pearl-colored essence of life spilled onto
her hand and she extended her tongue to taste it once again, gazing up into his
eyes with great wonder.