Page 7 of While Angels Slept
She gazed up at him, her lavender eyes glistening with unshed tears. Tevin could see that the strength she had exhibited against Charles was purely for appearance. Inside, she was dying.
“Aye, my lord, there is,” she said softly. “You can help me bury my husband in a manner befitting his distinction.”
“It would be my honor, my lady. I will see to it personally.”
Her lovely face seemed to relax. Before she could reply, a small boy exited the chapel, his blue eyes blinking at the brightness of the sun.Seeing his mother, he scurried over to her.
“Mama?” he slipped his hand into hers. “I’ve given Da my sword. He isth holding it now. Would you like to see? I think we should bury him with it. He would like that, don’t you think?”
Cantia very nearly lost her fragile control. Her other hand went to her chest, pressing against it as if to hold in all of the emotion that was threatening to burst out. As she struggled to form a reply, Tevin could see the turmoil in her face. He quickly thought to give her time to compose herself.
“Little man,” he addressed Hunt. “What is your name?”
Hunt’s enormous blue eyes focused on him. “Huntington Penden. What isth yours?”
It was a bold question. “Tevin du Reims,” he replied, fighting off a grin.
“Viscount Winterton,” Cantia whispered hoarsely to her son. Tevin could see the tears were still very much on the surface. “Show him all due respect, Hunt. He is your liege.”
Hunt’s expression didn’t change. He continued to size the big man up. “You are a viscount?”
“Aye.”
“But I thought viscounts were mean, gluttonous men?”
Tevin cracked a smile while his mother nearly choked. “Hunt,” she snapped softly. “You will apologize immediately.”
The child had no idea what he had said wrong. “But you said that the nobility of England wasth full of fat, gluttonous old men who live off the life and death of their vassals. Didn’t you…?”
She slapped a hand over Hunt’s mouth and quickly turned him in the direction of the chapel. Tevin watched her nearly pull the child’s arm out of his socket in her haste to remove him.
“My lady?” he called after her. “A word, please.”
Cantia paused. Practically shoving Hunt back inside the chapel, she retraced her steps back to Tevin. When she forced herself to look at him, she swore the black eyes were twinkling.
“We will bury your husband at dusk,” he said quietly. “Since I will take care of all of the arrangements, perhaps you will go and rest until the time comes. Will there be anything else I can do for you?”
She shook her head, perhaps a bit too hard. “Nay, milord, you have already shown us far too much grace and generosity.”
Tevin stood there a moment, gazing at her. He wanted to talk to her more. He didn’t know why, but he did. Yet the situation did not warrant it, and he felt a bit caddish for even entertaining the thought. No matter how lovely the lady was, or how much he respected her character, she was a newly made widow and his thoughts were inappropriate. Besides… her status as a widow was at his doing.
He silently excused himself from her presence and turned away. He hadn’t taken three steps when shouts from the kitchen yard off to his left suddenly caught his attention. The servants were in an uproar. He caught two words: fire and steward. Before he realized it, he was off and running in that direction with Lady Penden close on his heels.
She had heard the screaming, too.
CHAPTER THREE
Standing in the middleof the kitchen yards, Charles had covered himself with oil and was holding a torch at arm’s length. Several frightened servants hovered in the yard, unsure what to do. By the time Tevin and Cantia got there, the Steward of Rochester was in the full stages of dementia, falling apart before their eyes.
“My God, my God,” the man yelled to the heavens. “Can you not take me instead? I give myself to you freely. Can you not leave my son here to finish his life?”
Cantia was horrified. Some of the other knights had heard the yelling and soon, Tevin was joined by Val, John, and his two remaining knights, Dagan Sutton and Gavril de Reigate. Tevin held out his arm to stop them as the men began to spread out behind him, fearful that their presence would cause Charles to light himself immediately. Myles was the last one to arrive, his strong face tinged with shock. He went to stand next to Cantia, hoping to take her away from this. Tevin saw what the knight was up to and encouraged him.
“Get her out of here, de Lohr,” he whispered loudly. “Her presence will only inflame him.”
Cantia thought to resist, but something in Tevin’s dark eyes told her that he would not tolerate disobedience. She allowed Myles to turn her for the yard gate just as Hunt raced through it. Neither one of them was fast enough to stop him as he broke through and headed straight for Charles. He grabbed the old man around the legs, holding him fast.
“Grandfather!” the little boy wailed. “What are you doing? I would come, too!”
