While Angels Slept (19 page)

“It’s so good to
see you, Father,” she laid her head on his massive shoulder. “I have missed you
very much.”

“And I have
missed you, sweetheart. What an unexpected treat this day has brought.”

“Will you show
me Rochester now?”

He gave her a
little toss, listening to her squeals of delight. “Of course I’ll show you this
behemoth of a fortress if it pleases you. You’ve come all this way and I’ll not
disappoint.”

“Are you angry
with me?”

“Of course not.”

Behind them,
Geoff snorted. “What about me? What thanks do I get for reuniting father and
daughter?”

Tevin cast him a
long glance, letting him know that he was still mightily displeased. But he
was, in fact, very glad to see his daughter. He could feel himself relenting.
“My thanks for bringing my daughter safely to Rochester, Geoff.”

Geoff grinned
and winked boldly at Arabel. She just smiled, her spindly arms wound around her
father’s neck as if to never let him go.  The two older maids that had tended
Arabel since birth brought along the chair and followed close behind as Tevin
took her on a brief tour around the hall.

“So now you see
the great hall of Rochester,” he looked up to the soaring ceilings and the two
massive tapestries that hung near the gallery of lancet windows above. “This
place is like a damn cathedral.”

“Father!”

“Sorry.” He
pursed his lips contritely; Arabel was quite correct in reprimanding him for
his harsh language. “Outside to the left are the kitchens and a massive kitchen
yard. And above us are two more levels with chambers.”

“Where is Val,
Father?”

Tevin’s brightened
mood dimmed. He knew Geoff was somewhere near them, wondering if he had heard
the question. Although his cousin knew that Val fought as a knight, he’d not
said anything about her since his arrival and Tevin did not want to bring up
the subject.  He squeezed his daughter gently.

“She is not here
at the moment.” He continued back around the hall and headed for the entrance
with the intention of going outside, but Arabel stopped him. 

“Nay, Father. I
want to see the chambers.”

“Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

Tevin dared to
look around, then, to see if Geoff was still around. His cousin was seated on
the table near the hearth, tearing a part of piece of bread and chatting with
one of his knights. He was far enough out of earshot that Tevin felt he could
speak with confidence.

“Do you remember
what I told you about Cousin Geoff and Val?” he said quietly.

Arabel wasn’t
stupid; she nodded after a moment’s contemplation. “Aye,” she said hesitantly.

“Then I would
ask you not to mention Val when he is about. He likes her, too much, and we do
not want to be put in a bad position because Cousin Geoff cannot control
himself. Do you understand?”

Again, she
nodded. “I am sorry, Father. I did not mean to say anything wrong.”

He kissed the
tip of her nose. “You did not, sweetheart. But we must keep Cousin Geoff away
from Val.”

“I know, Father.
Where is she?”

“Upstairs. You
must keep this secret. Can you do this?”

She nodded
eagerly. “I would see her, please!”

He could not
refuse her. Val and Arabel shared a very special bond; Val had been practically
the only mother Arabel had ever known. Moreover, he would have the privilege of
introducing his daughter to Cantia, something he realized that he was very
excited to do.  He had never faced a moment like this before, introducing his
daughter to someone who was very quickly coming to mean a great deal to him.  But
along with the excitement came uncertainty. He hoped they would like one
another.  His nerves suddenly began to get the better of him, excitement and
anxiety doing strange things to his stomach.

 Instructing the
old serving women to retreat to the solar to wait for them, Tevin took his
daughter up the very narrow, winding staircase. The third floor was quiet and
empty as he mounted the even smaller flight of steps for the fourth floor.   By
the time he had reached the landing, he had already bumped his head trying to
keep Arabel from scraping the walls. Softly, he rapped on the first door to his
right.

“’Tis me,” he
called softly.

The door
thumped, jerked, and flew open. The first face he saw was Hunt’s. The little
boy growled at him like a bear. “Where’s my
food
?”

Tevin’s face
fell. In the surprise of Arabel’s appearance, he realized that he had
completely forgotten about procuring a morning meal.  Cantia came up behind
Hunt, putting her hand over his mouth.

“Forgive him, my
lord,” she said, her inquisitive gaze moving between Tevin and the young lady
in his arms.  “His mood is foul when he’s not eaten.”

Val, who had
been gazing from the window, turned to her brother and realized with shock that
Arabel was in his arms. She gasped and flew across the room.

“Bella!” she
cried softly, throwing her arms around both the girl and Tevin. “What are you
doing here, sweetling? How did you get here?”

Arabel
transferred her weak arms from her father to her aunt.  Val took her from
Tevin, cradling her sweetly and hugging her. 

“I came with
Cousin Geoff,” Arabel said. “We had an adventure of travel!”

Val had nearly
the same reaction as her brother; when her bliss at Arabel’s  sudden appearance
faded, she was very concerned for the young woman’s safety.  She looked at her
brother with accusing eyes.

“He brought her
here with the entire region under threat of battle?” she said. “Is he mad?”

Tevin put up a
quelling hand. “I have already had words with him, Val. What’s done is done.
Suffice it to say that Arabel is here, safely, and we are very grateful.”

Off to his left
stood Cantia and Hunt; Cantia hands were on her son’s shoulders as she watched
the tender reunion.  It had only taken her a matter of seconds to realize who
the young lady was once the conversation began and she smiled gently as she
watched Val waltz across the room with the tiny young woman in her arms.  She
looked over at Tevin.

“She has her
father’s comely looks, my lord,” she said softly.

Tevin gazed over
at her, his expression softening.  Memories from the previous night flooded his
mind, making him feel weak and giddy. He wanted very badly to reach out and
touch her but dare not attempt it.  In time, it would be acceptable for him to
do so, but for the moment, there was still propriety to be observed. Especially
in front of Arabel and Hunt.

“My thanks, my
lady,” he replied quietly. Then he winked at her. “If you do not mind a
visitor, I shall retreat to the kitchens and bring Hunt his meal before he
tears me limb from limb. I do not like the look in his eye.”

Cantia nodded
graciously. As she and Tevin gazed sweetly at each other, Hunt wriggled from
his mother’s grasp and made his way over to Val and Arabel.  They were gazing
out of the lancet window as Val pointed out the cathedral of Rochester in the
distance.  They were also speaking of Arabel’s exciting trip from Thunderbey. The
little boy stood next to them, eyeing the newcomer.

“What isth your
name?” he tugged on Arabel’s sleeve.

Arabel arched
her neck back to look at him, made more comfortable when Val turned around. 
They both smiled down at the wide-eyed young lad.

“Arabel,” she
said in her very soft, very sweet voice. “What is your name?”

“Hunt.” The boy
sized her up and down.  When he apparently decided she was worth talking to, he
held out a hand containing a ball. “Do you want to play with me?”

Arabel’s face
positively lit up. “I do!” she pointed to the bed, indicating for her aunt to
set her down. “Will you throw it to me?”

Hunt hadn’t
noticed anything wrong with the girl yet; he tossed her the ball before Val had
set her down completely and it hit her in the forehead. While Cantia gasped,
Arabel laughed and rubbed her head.  Then she picked up the ball, tried to toss
it, and it ended up on the floor.  Hunt picked it up, threw it again, and hit
her in the chest.

Tevin and Val
watched the exchange carefully; Arabel could barely use her arms but she was
trying with all her heart. And she was loving it.  Hunt, surprisingly, didn’t
seem to mind that she couldn’t toss the ball; he continued to pick it up off
the floor, off the end of the bed, and toss it back to her. She couldn’t catch
it so it would end up in her lap.  Cantia, fingers folded and at her mouth as
if she was praying, watched the activity with some concern.

“Hunt,” she admonished
softly. “Young ladies do not catch balls. Perhaps you should play something
that is more suited to the lady’s tastes.”

Tevin smiled
faintly, approaching the bed. “I think that ball catching does run to her
taste, does it not?” He put his hand on his daughter’s blond head, smiling down
at her as she beamed. “Arabel, I would like you to meet Master Hunt Penden and
his mother, the Lady Cantia.  They live at Rochester.”

Arabel’s big
dark eyes focused on Cantia; they were wide and intelligent and Cantia smiled
timidly. “It is a pleasure to know you, my lady,” she said. “Welcome to
Rochester.”

Arabel smiled
prettily, her gaze appraising and curious. “Thank you,” she said. “Are you the
lady of the house?”

“I am.”

She looked at
her father. “She is beautiful,” she said. “Is she hiding here with Val, too?”

Tevin nodded,
trying not to appear too grim. “Another secret you must keep.”

Arabel looked
back at Cantia. “But where is your husband? Surely he will protect you from
Cousin Geoff.”

Cantia’s smile
faded. It was the first time since Brac’s death that she had come into contact
with someone who hadn’t known what had happened.  She had to explain his
absence, which strangely didn’t upset her as she thought it might. “He was
killed in a skirmish several weeks ago,” she told her.

“Oh,” Arabel
looked rather regretful that she had asked. “I am sorry, my lady.”

Cantia forced a
smile, wanting off the subject of Brac. Though there was no longer any
horrendous pain associate with the memory, it was still an uncomfortable one.
She had done a great deal of healing and was unwilling to pick at the scabs
that were healing over the wounds.

“If you would
like to play something else with Hunt, he has a good many toys we can put to
use,” she suggested. “Perhaps your father will go into his chamber and collect
some things.”

Tevin had been
watching the exchange between his daughter and Cantia with great interest.  He
was pleased to see that the initial meeting had gone well and he was more than
pleased to see how Cantia had handled the question of Brac. In a strange,
selfish reaction, it gave him hope that everything they had been feeling for
each other, everything that had happened over the past day or so, was not
simply a convenience or a mistake. It was real. He wanted it very much to be
real.  He took a step in Cantia’s direction.

“After I play
the part of the serving wench and bring Master Hunt his meal,” he mussed the
boy’s blond hair. “Then perhaps I shall have time to collect some things for
you both to play with.”

Hunt started to
growl again but Cantia slapped her hand over his mouth.  Tevin’s gaze moved
from Val to his daughter and finally Cantia before quitting the room.   When
the door closed softly, Cantia went to lock it as Hunt picked up the ball
again.

“Catch!” he cried.

The ball hit
Arabel squarely in the nose and drew blood.

***

It had been as
he feared. Though Tevin had spent the remainder of the day with Geoff, his mind
was not on his cousin’s aimless chatter.  As they had toured the stores, the
stables, the yards, and some of the surrounding countryside, Tevin discussed
the strategic importance of Rochester when what he really wanted to do was talk
about Cantia’s unearthly beauty.  The sun began to wane in the west and they
found themselves back in the solar with a hearty blaze and a bottle of Port
between them, but still, all Tevin could think of was Cantia.  Geoff was
running on about the weak market for the wheat his serfs had harvested while
Tevin struggled to focus on something other than lavender eyes. Finally, he’d
had enough of the constant chatter and his own lack of focus. He wanted to get
back to Cantia and the only way to do that was to shut his cousin up.

“Geoff,” Tevin
finally broke into the prattle. “Wheat and weather are not the true reason you
have come. I received your missive a few days ago.  Can we delve into the meat
of this?”

Geoff took a
long drink of the ruby Port. Behind him, the fire crackled softly as the room
darkened with sunset.  He savored the flavor, smacking his lips and studying
the pewter chalice. “What is it you wish to know?”

Tevin raised an
impatient eyebrow. “I suppose I wish to know what plans you have.  This land is
in turmoil.  We have held hope for months that Matilda’s invasion from Normandy
was imminent, a hope fed by both you and her brother, the Earl of Gloucester. 
We have prepared for this moment. What has happened that we are now in support
Stephen of Blois?”

Geoff was
casual, even cavalier. “I do not need to explain my reason to you.  You must have
faith that I know best.”

“Perhaps you do
not need to explain to me, but I am asking just the same. I have fifteen
hundred men committed to your cause and I would like to know why I will now ask
my men to fight for someone we have sworn to destroy.”

“Do you not
trust my decisions?”

“I have been
ever supportive of your causes, Geoff. But I still wish to know why the change
of heart. Please.”

It was the softly
spoken supplication that got him. Geoff suddenly went from nonchalant to
animated in the blink of an eye. He slammed his chalice to the table and stood
up, running his fingers through his blond hair.  Tevin watched him closely,
with his usual unruffled attitude.  He was genuinely curious to know the man’s
reasons and he was equally eager to be done with this conversation.