While Angels Slept (12 page)

“What’s wrong?”
she demanded. “What’s happened to her?”

Tevin was wiping
tears from his eyes. “Nothing,” he turned to show them his singed tunic.  “But
I almost went up in flames.”

Val’s concern
turned to understanding.  Cantia took her hand away from her mouth, unable to
speak for the laughter that was bubbling forth. Val grinned her toothy,
charming grin.

“I see,” she lifted
a pale eyebrow. “You are most entertaining, brother.”

“Damn near
burned the place down,” he mumbled, taking Cantia gently by the arm and
steering her towards the door.  

With Cantia
still sputtering with laughter, they re-emerged into the sanctuary.  Val had
Cantia by one hand while Cantia’s other hand was tucked into Tevin’s elbow. A
priest moved towards the group, also alerted by the sounds it he alcove. He was
a pudgy man in dirty robes.

“Is all well, my
lord?” he asked Tevin, though his eyes were on Cantia. He knew Lady Penden and
knew of her recent loss. At the moment, it rather looked like she was being
supported.

“Indeed it is,”
Tevin answered, faking his composure.

The priest
looked as if he didn’t believe him. “But I heard.…”

“You heard
nothing unusual,” Tevin assured him in his deep voice. He looked at Simon,
standing a few feet away. “Give the priest a donation on Brac Penden’s behalf.
We wish a mass said for him.”

Simon dug into
the change purse he carried, producing a few coins for the priest.  The pudgy
man accepted them graciously.  “A pleasure, my lord.”

As the priest
turned away to prepare for the mass, Tevin wriggled his eyebrows at the group.
“I would suggest we conduct our business quickly and leave before we wreak any
more havoc.”

“Keep him away
from the candles,” Cantia muttered to Val.

Val nodded in
agreement, biting her lip to fight off the giggles as Tevin cast her a
threatening look. Cantia, too, struggled to compose herself.  It was difficult
to look at Tevin, however, and not break into laughter.  So she kept her gaze
forward, moving for the pedestal of holy water that was near the western wall.
Dipping her fingers in it, she made the sign of the cross across her body and
murmured a prayer. She wasn’t sure if she should pray for Brac, or for herself
for having allowed such a carnal display with Tevin in the cathedral. It was
wicked and she knew it. But at the moment, she almost didn’t care. She had felt
more alive in his arms, more vital, than she had in quite some time.  It wasn’t
wrong to want to feel alive when she’d suffered through so much death.

As she knelt in
preparation for the rosary, she could feel Tevin’s dark eyes upon her.  He
wasn’t kneeling in prayer as she was, but was rather standing behind her
respectfully.  When she should be praying, all she could think of was the blaze
he had ignited within her the moment he had touched her.  The memory of those
massive arms, the pure passion of his kiss, caused her heart to start racing
all over again. She forgot about the prayers. With her eyes closed, she
imagined their kiss over and over again in her mind.

Tevin, too, was
having a good deal of trouble concentrating.  He stood there, staring at the
back of her luscious head, wondering just how long he was going to spend in
Purgatory for ravaging the new widow. He’d never felt more evil and he was not,
by nature, an evil man. But he knew that, whatever the cost to his soul, his
brief encounter with her had been worth the price. He could never have imagined
anything sweeter.  His eyes trailed from her head to her torso, studying the
curve of her waist and the gentle flare of her hips through her emerald surcoat. 
She had a delicious figure; he’d noticed it from the first.  He was so wrapped
up in his thoughts of her that he barely felt the first tap from Simon. But he
felt the second stronger one.

He looked at his
knight, who was pointing at the entrance to the cathedral. Several Winterton
men stood in the doorway, waiting for their lord’s attention.  Tevin left the
ladies on their knees, moving do the entrance accompanied by Simon, John and
Myles.

“What is it?” he
asked his men.

The first
soldier, an older man who had seen service with Tevin’s father, spoke. “A
missive, my lord,” he handed him the cylinder of yellowed vellum. “It came a
short time ago.”

Tevin cocked a
dark brow, noting the seal.  “It’s from East Anglia,” he said in a low voice. 

He moved outside
the cathedral with his men in tow. Several kept watch around them while Tevin
broke the seal of the missive and unrolled it. Very carefully scripted letters
met his gaze as he read the contents. Simon, though he couldn’t read, looked
over his shoulder while Myles, who could ready, read slowly of the first few
words. But Tevin was finished before he was and rolled the vellum up quickly.

“We must return
to Rochester immediately,” he said to his knights. “Get the men moving. I shall
gather the ladies.”

“What does the
missive say, my lord?” Simon asked.

Tevin’s jaw
ticked. “Not here. Send John back to Rochester immediately to summon the rest
of my knights. I would speak with everyone upon my return.”

Simon moved
carry out his liege’s orders, readying the soldiers who had accompanied them
and bringing about the wagon that had carried the ladies.  John mounted his big
brown destrier and took off in the direction of the castle.  Tevin went back
inside where the ladies were still kneeling. He moved to them swiftly.

“I am truly
sorry, Lady Penden,” he said quietly, “but we must return immediately.”

Startled, she
looked up into his dark eyes and saw hardness to them. Something was amiss,
though she could not imagine what. Somehow it frightened her. Without a word,
she followed him from the cathedral and to the wagon waiting outside.  Tevin
helped Val in first, being careful of her ribs, but when it came to Cantia, his
enormous hands encircled her waist and he gently lifted her into the cab.  His
hands lingered a moment and she smiled faintly at him. He winked in response.
And then he was gone.

***

“De Gael is on
his way to Rochester. It would seem that the man has had a change of
loyalties.”

Clustered in the
musty solar of Rochester Castle, Tevin made the grim announcement. While the
knights of his Corp remained quiet and calm, Myles eyebrows lifted
dramatically.

“Changed of
loyalties?” de Lohr repeated. “What does that mean?”

Tevin had been
through this before with his cousin. The man was an opportunist and a
scoundrel.  He’d already betrayed Stephen of Blois some time back, pretending
to support the man when what he really wanted was to confiscate some of his
English holdings.  Now it would appear he was doing the same thing to Matilda.

“It means
precisely that,” Tevin said steadily. When de Lohr looked flustered, he
continued.  “These are lawless times, de Lohr. England has no true monarch.
Anarchy has been reigning for thirteen years now, ever since Henry passed away
and declared Matilda his heir. While she hides in France, the nobles of the
country have basically created their own dark worlds in which to govern and
murder.  Mandeville is no different, though he is more clever than most.  He
supported Stephen for a time until he betrayed the man and stole some of his
holdings. Now he betrays Matilda by claiming the fiefdom from Dartford to
Canterbury in the name of Stephen.”

Myles was beside
himself. “And you accept this?”

Tevin lifted an
eyebrow. “He is my liege as well as my cousin. I have little choice in the
matter.”

There was more
passion in Myles than was healthy. “So you change your own loyalties at the
whim of your cousin?” he growled. “You now support the same faction that killed
Brac Penden. Now you side with the enemy.”

“There are no
enemies during this time. There is only survival.”

“They killed
Brac!”

Fortunately,
Tevin was not quick to anger. He never had been. He understood Myles’ distress.
“What would you suggest I do?”

“Resist him,”
Myles snapped. “Support the true empress and deny the usurper.”

Tevin paused in
thought. “Let me ask you something, de Lohr, and be honest. If you were in my
position, heir apparent to the earldom of East Anglia, and owing all of your
power and wealth to the man, would you so easily create a battle that cannot be
won?”

Myles stopped
pacing. He looked at Tevin, knowing there was some truth to his words but still
angered over the changing of tides. He ran his fingers through his blond hair.
“You do not know that. You command fifteen hundred men.”

“And East Anglia
commands three or four times that. I could not win this battle, Myles. It would
be a futile gesture and a lost cause.”

“So you support
his change in loyalties without question?”

“Without
question.”

“Why would you
do this?”

“When you are in
a position of power during these evil times, you will understand.”

Myles shut his
mouth. He had nothing more to say.  With a lingering glance, Tevin turned back
to his men. He noted the varying expressions, some supportive, some doubtful. 
Val sat in a padded chair to support her healing ribs, her expression somewhat
veiled. She would do whatever her brother commanded, but he could see that she
was distressed.

“Lord East
Anglia should be here in a few days,” Tevin said with some resignation in his
voice. “We must show him all of the support he requires. I do not know what he
will demand of me, but we must be ready.”

The knights of
his Corp merely nodded. They did as they were told. Myles didn’t reply, but he
didn’t protest, either.  When Tevin dismissed his men to go about their
business, Myles was the last man from the room.  Tevin called after him.

“I trust that I
have your loyalty, de Lohr,” he said quietly. “If not, then you and I have more
to discuss.”

Myles’ gaze move
from Tevin to Val and back again.  After a moment, he shook his head, perhaps
understanding more of Tevin’s position than he let on. “You have always had my
loyalty, my lord,” he said. “I suppose I fear for Lady Penden’s reaction when
she realizes that her husband died in vain. Had we received this news a month
ago, there would have been no bridge to retake. Brac would still be with us.”

“Life is full of
choices and what could have been,” Tevin replied. “And I would appreciate it if
you would not stress that point to the lady. It will do her no good to anguish
over something that cannot be changed.”

Myles nodded and
left the solar, leaving Tevin and Val sitting alone.  Val watched her brother’s
tense brow.

“You are
displeased,” she said softly.

He shrugged. “I
am always displeased when Geoff comes around.  Surely a more immoral man has
never existed.”

“Keep Cantia
away from him,” Val said. “He has no control when it comes to women. I am
afraid what he will do when he sees her. And I fear what you will do should he
touch her.”

His head snapped
in her direction, the dark eyes piercing. “What do you mean?”

Val shook her
head. “Do not pretend with me, brother. It is of no use. I see how you look at
her. I know your thoughts, though I must say that I am surprised. I thought you
well beyond any lady’s charms.”

Tevin was fully
prepared to protest but thought better of it. Val wasn’t an idiot. And she
wasn’t judgmental, either.  With a sigh, he sat in the nearest chair, easing his
massive body down wearily.  He knew he could confide in her and it would go no
further. He felt the sudden need to do so.

“I thought
myself well beyond that, too, but it seems I was wrong,” he muttered. “I’ve tried
to tell myself how wrong it is, how inappropriate my thoughts are, but it does
no good. I see the woman and feel myself turn to putty.”

Val smiled
sadly. “I know. I’ve seen it.”

“Has anyone
else?”

“I doubt it.
Your knights are not as intuitive as I am.” Her gaze lingered on him a moment.
“Have you told her how you feel?”

He snorted.
“Aye, I have.”

“How did she
react?”

He lifted his
hands in a helpless gesture. “It caused her more distress than she needs.  The
woman is still grieving over her husband. I have no right to demand her
attention.”

Val fell silent
a moment, listening to the sounds of the bailey as they wafted in through the
lancet window.  Then she looked at her brother pointedly. “Does she know
everything?”

He looked at
her. “About what?”

“About Louisa?”

He abruptly
stood up, shaking his head. “There is no need to tell her that.”

“No need?” Val
repeated, incredulous. “Tevin, just what do you plan to do with Cantia? Toy
with her feelings and then leave her in despair? What exactly are your intentions?”

Tevin, having
strolled half way across the solar, suddenly stopped and looked at his sister. 
“I…I do not know,” he snapped in frustration. “All I know is that the woman
makes me feel something I have never felt before. She has awakened a part of me
that I thought was long dead. I cannot go a moment of the day without thinking
of her.  So you tell me what my intentions are, for truly, I do not know.”

Val wasn’t
trying to agitate him, but she needed for him to think clearly. “You are not a
man given to whims, Tevin. Make sure that what you feel for the lady is not
simply opportunistic.  She is a beautiful, grieving widow and you have felt
responsible since the day of Brac’s death. Do not confuse passion with pity.
You will do more damage to her if you do.”

His features
flickered with hurt. “That is a cruel thing to say.”

Val lifted an
eyebrow. “Is it? Or is it the truth and you cannot admit it?”

He sighed
heavily, wandering over to where she sat. He sat down beside her, heavily, his
dark eyes dulled with bewilderment. Val put her hand over his.