While Angels Slept (35 page)

     She knew the subject would
come up. She was frankly surprised it had taken this long, and her good humor
fled. “And you and I will have a discussion about why you told him you are the
Earl of East Anglia.”

     “Because I am.”

     She was serious. “I was
thinking all the way back to Rochester that you would not have returned us if
Geoff was still in residence,” she said quietly. “What happened to him?”

     “He is dead.”

     “How?”

     “He attacked me and I killed
him in self-defense.”

     Cantia sighed faintly,
thinking of the greater implications of that softly-uttered statement.  “I
suppose I should be happy about this but I can see by the look on your face
that you are torn,” she said softly, perhaps with sympathy. “What are you
feeling, sweetheart?”

     He hadn’t really thought
about it since it happened. There had been so much else on his mind.  After a
moment, he made his way over to her and put his arms around her, pulling her
close. In the shadow of Rochester’s mighty keep, he hugged her tightly.

     “I am not sure,” he
murmured. “It all happened so fast… Geoff was furious because I had sent you
and Val away, and you were abducted, and he refused to let me send out men to
search for you.  We argued and he attacked me with a dagger.  As I was
deflecting his blow, I snapped his neck. I did not mean to do it but it
happened. I cannot understand why I am not deliriously happy about it, but I am
not. Geoff was a vile creature and we are better off without him. I know that
better than anyone.”

     “But he was your cousin,
your blood, and for that reason alone you are torn.”

“Perhaps. But it
is done. I will not linger on it.”

     Cantia hugged him close.
“This means a great many things will change for you.”

     “That is true,” he
whispered. “But it all means nothing without you by my side. You are my all for
living, Cantia. Always remember that.”

     She pulled her face from the
crook of his neck, smiling up at him. “As you are mine,” she whispered. “We
will speak more of all of this later, but for now, I wish to see Val and then I
wish to sleep for the next hundred years. I am exhausted.”

     He nodded. “I know,
sweetheart,” he said, gesturing towards the knight’s quarters once again. “Go
and see Val, but do not be too long. I will join you upstairs shortly.”

     Blowing him a kiss, Cantia
headed off to see to Val, her thoughts lingering on Tevin and his newly
acquired earldom. It was an enormous event and she was very proud of the man.
It would seem that much had happened in the past two days, life changing events
that she was trying to come to grips with.  Her mind was a little muddled by it
all.

     Val was ecstatic to see
Cantia, and the two women chatted until Tevin finally came looking for Cantia
and had to separate them so he could get Cantia up to bed.  But Val wasn’t to
be alone for long; soon after Cantia and Tevin left, Myles joined Val in her
dark little room.

     When dawn came, he was still
there.

***

     “I am going to do all of the
speaking and you are going to do all of the listening,” Tevin’s tone was a
growl. “Is this in any way unclear, Penden?”

     In his bottle prison,
Charles looked filthy and haggard.  The time spent in captivity had not been
kind to him. His body had aged tremendously and his mind had entered that dark
and shadowed realm of madness, now waiting anxiously for word from Sutton on
the success of their plan. Du Reims appearance was not a good sign, and he eyed
the man with animosity.

     “What time is it?” he
barked.

     “Dawn.”

     Charles waved listlessly at
him. “Speak then,” he said. “But know there is nothing you can say that will
interest me in the least.”

     Tevin’s expression was like
stone. “I beg to differ,” he said. “Let me be the first to inform you that your
plans with Dagan Sutton have been foiled.  Dagan is dead and your schemes along
with him.”

     Charles’ eyes took on a
strange glimmer. “Be plain.”

     “I am. Dagan was killed
while attempting to abduct Lady Cantia for the purpose of marriage, I am told,
at your prompting. You were to provide the man a dowry for the lady if he
married her.”

     Charles’ gaze remained
steady.  He could see de Lohr and two of du Reims’ other knights standing
behind him, big sentinels lurking in the shadows.  Charles looked at Myles.

     “You serve
me,
de
Lohr,” he rumbled. “You will defend me against this… this usurper.  He accuses
me of something he cannot prove and I will have my satisfaction.”

     Myles could see the madness
in Charles’ eyes and it both saddened and enraged him. He had been particularly
close to Brac and knew the man would have been devastated by his father’s
actions. He found that he was furious on Brac’s behalf more than anything. So many
of Charles’ actions were disgusting in so many ways.

     “Dagan confessed everything
to Lady Cantia,” he replied, deliberately leaving out ‘my lord’. “She has
informed us of your scheme with Sutton.  I will not defend a guilty man.”  Charles
flared. “You would believe that bitch over me?” he snarled. “I will have your
hide for this.”

     Before Myles could reply,
Tevin stepped forward. “That woman is the only thing standing between you and
certain death,” he rumbled. “She has asked me not to kill you and as of this
very moment, I will not. But if I ever hear you call her a disparaging name
again, I will slit your throat and take great pleasure your lingering and
bloody death. Is this clear?”

     Charles gazed at Tevin, a
wicked flash in the dark eyes. Either he was too crazy or too arrogant to be
intimidated.  After a moment, a hint of a mocking smile creased his lips.

     “You have wiped everything
of Brac off of her, have you not?” he snorted. “My son was barely cold in his
grave before you were bedding his wife. Have you flushed her veins with your
scent and wiped all taste of Brac from her lips? You are a vile bastard to take
advantage of a woman in mourning.”

     “And you are a vile bastard
to shame your son with your behavior towards his widow.”

     The smile on Charles’ mouth
faded and he turned away, the insanity in his veins building. Tevin could see
the tremor in his movements, the twitch in his eye.  He knew there was no
reasoning with a madman, and Charles Penden was far gone with madness.  It
started the moment those arrows struck Brac.

     “She is mine to do with as I
please,” he muttered. “As the Steward of Rochester, she belongs to me.”

     Tevin could feel his body
tense, his fierce sense of protectiveness for Cantia overwhelming him.  He
pressed up against the rusted iron grate that separated him from Charles.

     “And I
am
East
Anglia,” he rumbled. “De Gael is dead and the title now belongs to me, which
means Rochester belongs to me and everything about it. You take orders from me
now, Penden, and I will have the truth. Did you offer Cantia in marriage to
Dagan Sutton for a price?”

     Charles was looking at Tevin
without turning his head, a sort of ghoulish slant of the eye that was
unnerving and piercing. “You boast like a fool,” he hissed. “How do I know you
are truly East Anglia?”

     “Because he is,” Myles
confirmed before Tevin could. “Geoff de Gael is dead and Tevin du Reims now
controls East Anglia.  He is now your liege.”

     Charles turned his head now,
looking between Myles and Tevin with his sick-eyed expression.

“You have become
his dog, de Lohr. I do not believe you. And given the chance, I will do all I
can to destroy the chain of command until I am in control of Rochester once
again.” He was focused mostly on Tevin now. “I promised Cantia to Sutton
because I wanted to be free of this unrighteous prison, but the idiot evidently
perished before he could carry out my wants.  I do not know how he died but I
do not care. All I am sure of is that Cantia is the cause of everything and I
swear, given the chance, that I will kill her. She deserves nothing less for
everything she has caused.”

Myles stared at
the man; he didn’t dare look at Tevin. After a moment, his handsome features
twisted with confusion, for he was genuinely and truly baffled.

“What in the
world has that woman done to you to make you hate her so?” he asked.

Charles’
expression didn’t waver. “She took my son from me,” he grumbled. “She took him
from me and then turned him against me.”

“You mean she
married him?”

Charles looked
away. Myles simply shook his head. “She was your son’s wife,” he said. “Brac
loved her.  She was very good to him.  She gave birth to your only grandson.
Why should you hate her for such things?”

Charles wouldn’t
answer. When the wait became excessive and Myles finally dared to look at Tevin
to see what the man’s reaction to all of this was, Charles spouted off one last
time.

“I am in this
prison because of her,” he mumbled. “If it takes me to the end of my life, I will
ensure that the woman pays for what she has done to me.”

     “Then the end will come
sooner than you think.” Tevin didn’t hesitate. He turned to Myles. “Brick up
this doorway. The man is a poison that must be stopped because I believe every damn
word he says. He will never stop unless I stop him first.”

     Myles wasn’t shocked by the
order.  It was a cruel world and one did what one must do in order to survive.
To protect Cantia, Hunt, and the rest of them, the harsh deed had to be done.
They all knew that Charles would not be stopped and, short of running the man
through with a blade, there was only one way to put an end to the madness- bottle
him up in the prison that was to become his tomb. Charles screamed until the
last brick was seated.

     When Cantia heard the news,
for Brac’s sake, she wept.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

     Seated in the solar with
Val, Cantia was working on a piece of embroidery she had been toying with for
several months. It was an ambitious piece with butterflies and flowers and as
she sat in the mid-morning sun, she began to realize she’s hardly seen Tevin
since their return two days before.

     Certainly, she had seen him
during meal time and they’d spent the nights wrapped in each other’s arms but
for the most part, he was extremely busy as the new Earl of East Anglia and she
only caught fleeting glimpses of him now and again, usually in passing. She
missed him terribly but she was deeply grateful to be home, resuming a normal
life.

     And she was deeply grateful
for Val’s company.  The woman had recovered fairly swiftly from her injuries
and this was the first time Cantia had allowed her to sit up for any length of
time.

Dressed in a
soft, mustard-colored surcoat and struggling to learn the finer points of
needlework, Val sat across from Cantia on this bright morning, tackling the
somewhat simple scene of the sun rising over mountains. Cantia had helped her
sketch out the scene with charcoal and stretch it out over the oak frame, and
now Val was attempting to embroider her design.  She wasn’t having much luck
but she was trying very hard.

     A dog barking caught their
attention and Hunt suddenly raced through the keep entry with George on his
heels. Cantia called to her son to slow down but the boy yelled something back
about fresh currant bread and that was the reason for his rushed pace.   Cantia
shook her head in resignation, grinning when she caught Val laughing at her.

     “Trying to slow that child
down is like trying to stop a raging river,” Cantia sighed. “When he first
learned to walk as a baby, he went straight to running.”

     Val giggled as she took
another stab at the linen. “Perhaps the next child will not be in so much of a
rush.”

     Cantia shrugged, focused on
her embroidery. “Perhaps,” she said. Then she eyed Val. “Speaking of children,
when were you planning on telling me about Myles? I have given you almost two
whole days to tell me and still you say nothing.”

     Val’s cheeks immediately
flushed a deep shade of red.  She kept her eyes on her embroidery for a few
moments until she could stand it no longer and looked up, almost sheepishly, at
Cantia.  She was met by a knowing smile.

     “He….” She broke out in a
toothy grin and tried again. “I was going to tell you, truly. He has finally
stopped seeing me as a fellow knight and views me as a woman.”

     Cantia’s smile broadened.
“And why not?” she said. “You are a very beautiful and accomplished woman, and
it is time he realized it. When can we expect the wedding?”

     Val giggled a silly, giddy
laugh. “I am not entirely sure,” she said. “Myles has said he will speak with
Tevin but I suspect he fears my brother in that regard, so I may have to ask
Tevin’s permission myself.”

     Cantia was giggling with the
woman. “Nonsense,” she said firmly. “Myles will ask Tevin and your brother will
be very happy to give his blessing.  I know he is very happy for you.”

     Val’s giggling faded and her
expression turned serious and nearly wistful. “I never thought this would
happen to me,” she said softly. “Men do not usually find affection with women who
can fight as well as they can, so to have Myles’ attention has me thrilled as
well as surprised.”

     Cantia’s features were warm.
“I have known Myles for many years,” she replied. “Brac thought a great deal of
him, as do I.  He is a wonderful man and I am truly thrilled for you.”

     Val’s expression shifted in
to one of uncertainty and the grin returned. “Perhaps… perhaps you will help me
with my wedding preparations.”