The Legend Read Free

father insisted
it adds flavor."
    Lady Ivy de Fluornoy relayed the
orders to a hovering servant. When the man disappeared, she turned to her elder
sister. "The taste was normal to me. How can you taste the wood so
strongly?"
    "I just do. Why must you
question my palate? I am never wrong."
    Ivy made a face at her sister's
arrogant declaration. "And I say it tasted fine. As long as it is good
enough to get drunk by, what do the innkeepers care?"
    Peyton shot her sister an
intolerant look. "We sell to more than just innkeepers, as you well know.
Now, leave me alone. Go bother someone else."
    "There is no one
else," Ivy said, plopping down in a leather chair that had once belonged
to their father. "We are quite alone, you and I."
    Peyton gave her sister a long
glance, some of her irritation fading. "You need not remind me. I have
been well aware of the fact for six months now."
    "And well aware of the fact
that St. Cloven is a gold-mine to the man who marries you," Ivy shot back
with soft intensity. She gazed at her sister, watching the emotions ripple
across her beautiful face. "Your fate is in the hands of our liege, as
much as you loathe the fact. You do not control your destiny and your daily
moods reflect your frustration."
    Peyton's sapphire-blue eyes
flashed angrily for a split second before banking with equal rapidity. "As
our liege controls your fate, as well,” she reminded her. “It is the man's duty
to select husbands for both of us since...."
    Peyton's voice trailed away and
Ivy knew exactly what she was going to say; since my betrothed saw fit to get
himself killed on the tournament circuit and since father died before he could
complete a contract on you.
    "I do not want to marry
anyone," Ivy bemoaned quietly. "I am too young. Seventeen is far too
young."
    "Mother was married at
fourteen," Peyton reminded her, inadvertently pondering the man to whom
she was betrothed. The man she should have married.
    "I did not mean to bring up
James," Ivy knew what her sister was thinking. In fact, she thought of
little else.
    Peyton shrugged, her luxurious
cascade of golden-red curls shimmering in the weak light. "Whether or not
you mention him, he is always on the surface of my mind. It takes very little
for me to think of him."
    Ivy felt the stab of pain for her
sister, remembering too well the loss of Sir James Deveraux nine months prior.
The anguish still clouded Peyton's face. She hadn't been the same since dashing
blond James was gored by a spear-tipped joust pole in full view of his fiancée.
    Ivy rose, not wanting to linger
on the private memories. "I shall see to sup. It is my turn, is it
not?"
    "It is," Peyton nodded.
"I would prefer fowl this night. Or mayhap lamb. No mutton, if you
please."
    "Venison?"
    "Disgusting, wretched
stuff."
    Ivy smiled, her pale coloring in
sharp contrast to her sister's radiant beauty. "You used to like it well
enough."
    "I have changed my mind.
Nothing heavy. Or slicked with grease."
    "What gall! When it is your
turn to see to meals, you serve items that are literally floating in
slime."
    Peyton smiled deviously.
"Because you like it that way, darling. Admit it."
    "I shall admit that you are
intent on making me fat so that no man will have me."
    "I thought you did not want
a husband?"
    "I never said that. Stop
twisting my words."
    Peyton laughed again, patting her
sister's blond head affectionately. "Stop fretting, Ivy. 'Tis out of our
hands, I am afraid."
    Ivy wandered to the solar door,
her fingers probing the scrubbed jamb absently. Behind her, Peyton stood
staring into space, no doubt with James on her mind. The pain, although
somewhat faded, still clutched at her heart. It took her months before she
could right herself after his death.     
    "Do you think Lord Brian
will choose Colin?" Ivy's voice was faint with dread.
    Peyton was jolted from her train
of thought, her expression contemptuous. "Not unless he is willing to be
an active party to murder, for that is what will surely