Tevin lay with Cantia in his arms, still embedded in her sweet body, hearing the sounds wafting up from the bailey and trying not to listen. He did not want anything to interrupt this moment because he knew, more than likely, their next chance at being together would be far in the future. With his cousin around, there was no telling what was to happen during the course of his visit. Geoff was, at best, unpredictable. He found himself wishing he could run away and take Cantia with him, someplace where no king nor queen nor cousin could find them. Someplace peaceful. He sighed heavily. He wondered if such a place really did exist. It was the first time in his life he’d ever entertained such a thought.
“What’s wrong?” Cantia’s muffled voice came to him.
He shifted slightly, gazing down into her sleepy-eyed face. “Not a thing in the world, madam. Everything is wonderful.”
“But you sighed.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I suppose I am sighing with contentment. Or with discontentment at the thought of leaving you.”
Her head came up, mussed and lovely. “Leaving me? Where are you going?”
He gently pinched her chin. “Downstairs, to my cousin. Remember?”
She looked sheepish. “I thought you meant… well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Surely if your cousin is here, you must go and retrieve Val immediately.”
He just looked at her. “Does the thought of me leaving distress you that much?”
“Of course it does.”
His smile broadened and he kissed her again, realizing he wasn’t finished with her, and rolled her onto her back. As the sounds of the bailey below grew louder and the room brightened, he took her again, savoring every stroke, every touch. When they were finished after particularly strong and multiple releases and lay sated in one another’s arms, the sound of a young boy at the door quickly roused them.
“Mam!” Hunt was pounding on her locked door. “Mam, I’m hungry!”
Tevin sat up, pulling Cantia with him. She looked apprehensively at the door until Tevin silently encouraged her to respond.
“A moment, Hunt,” she called out. “Be patient and wait a moment.”
“You cannot go to the kitchen,” he reminded her with a whisper. “I will go and bring some food to you both.”
She nodded. “And do not forget to collect Val.”
He sighed heavily. “Madam, would that I have enjoyed my time alone with you, for I fear I shall not be able to survive until our next encounter. The strain will be more than I can bear.”
“You will have to unless you can think of a better sleeping arrangement. We do not want an audience.”
With a grin, Tevin tossed back the bedding and Cantia stood up, a little unsteadily at first and they both laughed. Her legs were slightly sore from the strenuous morning. But in the soft glow of daylight, Tevin had a full view of her delicious body and he was not disappointed. She was soft, round, and perfect in every way. Watching her heart-shaped bottom cross the room to collect her shift had him licking his lips at the sight of her. His heart was thumping loudly against his ribs, his breathing doing strange things.
Shift in hand, Cantia wandered near the bed in preparation for dressing and he abruptly reached out, taking her by the waist with his enormous hands and shoving his face into her belly. Cantia giggled softly as he nipped at her and kissed her flesh, but her giggles soon turned to moans of pleasure when his hands moved to her buttocks and his mouth began to tease the soft mound of curls between her legs.
“Tevin,” her legs were growing weaker and she struggled to stop him. “Not now. Hunt is waiting.”
His response was to gently shove her backwards on the bed. Cantia tried to leap up again but his big hands were on her, holding her down as he wedged his head and shoulders between her legs. His tongue was exploring her intimate pink folds and she had not the strength to resist. With her shift shoved into her mouth to bite of her screams, she experienced release after release at his expert tongue.
Twice, Hunt yelled at her from the other side of the door and she breathlessly quieted him. In her lust, she remembered thinking that she was glad he was only five years old and would not wonder why his mother sounded so winded. When Tevin was done with her and she lay satisfied, boneless and limp, he ran his tongue up her belly, to her breasts, and pulled her up to sit by the arms.
“Get up now,” he grinned as she fell back over on the bed and he pulled her up again. “Your starving son is waiting and I must go retrieve his meal.”
She started to fall over again, laughing when he put his enormous hands on her shoulders to hold her steady. The lavender eyes lolled open, twinkling at him.
“I do not believe that I can stand.”
He laughed softly. “You’ll have to. I must dress and I cannot do that and hold you upright at the same time.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, grinning, and it was his signal to let go and hunt down his clothes. He found his breeches, his boots, and finally his tunic, pulling them on in that order. The entire time, Cantia sat on the bed, nude, and watched him. As he pulled the tunic over his head, he caught her staring at him.
“Sweetheart, get dressed,” he urged softly. “I must open the door and I should not like for your son to see you stark naked. He might spread vicious gossip and rumors.”
She smiled dreamily, watching him push the copper curls from his eyes. “Why do men fear you so? Since I have known you, I have seen nothing to warrant that reputation. You are one of the sweetest, kindest and gentlest men I have ever met.”
He lifted his big shoulders. “With you, I certainly would not want to display any behavior that suggestion destruction or death,” he said. “On the field of battle, or with my men, my behavior is… different.”
“How different?”
He glanced up at her. “Look at me. Do I not look brutal and big? Frightening, even? I assure you, the reputation is well earned and I am proud of it. It has served me well. In fact, my brother was the one who would tell war stories of my skill to any and all who would listen. He said there was no one in heaven or earth who could best me on the field of battle.”
“What was your brother’s name?”
“Torston.”
“You said that he died. When did he die?”
Tevin thought back on his younger, taller, and more volatile brother. He had been a quick wit, a brilliant study, and far too rash. He missed him terribly. “In a skirmish four years ago,” he said. “My father had been mortally wounded and when my brother went to aid him, he was cut down as well.”
“Oh,” Cantia was saddened at the thought. “I’m sorry for you. How old was he?”
“He had seen twenty-five years.” He approached the bed, waving his big hands at her. “Cantia, hurry and dress.”
She started, as if she had completely forgotten that she needed to put her clothes on, and quickly pulled her shift over her head. The emerald surcoat lay at her feet where Tevin had ripped it from her body and she picked it up, tossed it over a chair, and went to the massive wardrobe against the wall. Opening the doors, the smile suddenly disappeared from her face. Tevin, fussing with the tie of his breeches, noticed she had come to a halt. He glanced over at her, realizing there were tears in her eyes.
He went to her. “What’s wrong, sweet?”
She shook her head, blinking away the tears. “’Tis… only that Brac’s clothes are still here. I keep forgetting. I must remove them.”
Tevin looked at the jumble of garments, tunics and leather breeches and pieces he did not recognize. “You do not have to remove them until you are ready.”
She looked at him, the light of surprise in her eyes. “Do you think I am not ready? Do you think I would have carried on with you all night as we did if I was not ready?”
He put his hands on her in a calming gesture. “I did not mean to offend you. I simply meant that you will not be forced to do anything you are not ready to do.”
She reached in and began pulling the cluster of clothes o
ut, onto the floor. Hunt yelled at his mother, again, and she shifted from Brac’s clothes to her own, pulling a durable broadcloth surcoat on and securing it with a leather girdle.
“Coming, Hunt. Be patient.”
Tevin had already walked to the door, his hand on the lock as he watched Cantia cinch up the girdle. She had a deliciously narrow waist, making her breasts appear rounder and larger. His thoughts began to turn lustful again but he fought them. Now was not the time. They had been selfish enough. Still, after a night like the one they had just spent together, he knew his thoughts would be only of her. It would be difficult to deal with his cousin and the situation the man brought with him.
The girdle was finally fastened and she smiled at him, slipping on the small leather slippers that would cover her feet. He smiled in return, feeling weak and warm and giddy. Over the past day, their relationship had deepened and expanded into something he had never known to exist. He couldn’t even remember his life before this woman was a part of it and the warmth he felt, the satisfaction, was more than he could describe. It blanketed him, like a warm, enveloping embrace that encompassed his entire being. He felt so very fortunate.
“I shall open the door,” he said quietly. “Let the boy see only you and I shall slip out when his attention is on his mother.”
She nodded, moving towards the door. He reached out, touching her cheek, as she came near. Then he unlocked the door and pulled it back.
Hunt sat in front of the door with a ball in his hand. George, the dog, lay beside him, gnawing on his paw. Hunt looked up sharply from his toy as the door opened, his face full of impatience at his mother.
“I’m hungry,” he said firmly. “I want porridge and honey!”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I am not sure I approve of your tone,” she reached down and pulled him into the room, making sure to keep his back to Tevin. “Come in here now. I must speak with you.”
Tevin, seeing the boy was properly distracted, slipped from the chamber. George wagged his tail at him, doggy eyes the only witness to the viscount being in Lady Cantia’s room. With her peripheral vision, Cantia saw Tevin disappear as she lifted her son up and kissed his face repeatedly.
“Mam!” he shoved against her, wanting to be put down. “I’m hungry!”
“I know,” she set him down on the floor. “But we have a serious matter to discuss and it cannot wait.”
He wasn’t particularly interested. “What?”
Cantia sat on the edge of the bed so that she would be closer to his eye level. “The Earl of East Anglia arrived earlier. Did you know that?”
He shrugged, shook his head, and tossed the ball at George. Cantia grasped his arm gently to force him to focus on her.
“The earl is a very important and very busy man,” she continued. “Although Rochester is your home, I must ask you to stay in my chamber with me until Lord Tevin tells us that we may leave to go about our business. That means that, for now, you cannot go outside and play. You must stay in here with me. We must…hide. Like when you play a hiding game. We are going to play a game.”
He looked at her with his big blue eyes. “Why are we hiding?”
“Because we must not bother the earl. We must be silent and obedient and invisible. Do you know what invisible means?” When he shook his head, she continued. “It means that he must not see us. We must be like a ghost.”
Hunt’s face lit up. “I want to be a ghost!”
She smiled at him. “Of course you do. He must not see you at all. If you are very good and the earl never sees you, then there shall be a reward waiting for you when he leaves.”
His happy face grew happier. “What reward?”
“What would you like?”
“Armor!” he shouted. “I want armor like my da!”
Her smiled faded. His innocent words depressed her so, whether because it once again reminded her of her now-fatherless son or because she imagined him as a grown warrior, she did not know. All she knew was that her son wanted to grow up so fast, to leave her and become a man. She wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
“We will discuss it further when the earl leaves,” she told him. “But if he sees you at all, no reward. No armor, no anything. Do you understand? This is important, Hunt.”
He nodded emphatically. “Good,” his mother said. “Now, I believe Lord Tevin is bringing us food. We will wait here for him.”
“Do we have to be a ghost for him, too?” Hunt wanted to know.
She shook her head, her gaze drifting to the mussed bedclothes on the floor beside the bed. Just to look at them gave her a shudder of pleasure.
“Nay,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “We will not hide from him.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Geoffrey de Gael, by all appearances, was a sane, well-behaved individual. He was the result of hundreds of years of careful breeding, fine bloodlines enhanced by a royal insertion here and there. Blond, with the same obsidian-dark eyes that Tevin possessed, he was three years younger than his stronger, larger cousin and a world of difference apart in character.
Women gravitated towards Geoffrey with frightening ease. It made his lustful games so easy to come by. Somewhere in his normal-looking head, something was terribly wrong and he literally knew no difference between right and wrong. He only knew what he wanted, what he lusted for, and he took it. The object could be land, a holding, a woman, a horse… anything that caught his eye. Not only was he unpredictable, he was also dangerous. He would draw a sword in the blink of an eye, kill, and hold no regrets. And there was never anyone to stop him.
That was why Tevin was so on edge. His cousin had always held a great liking for him, which made him somewhat immune to his cousin’s madness, but everyone else did not possess the luxury of that immunity. Even now, he had paused in his quest to the kitchen long enough to make sure his sister was prepared to move up to Cantia’s bower. On the third floor of the keep directly below Cantia’s chamber, Val was ready and waiting. An alert from her brother almost an hour before saw her preparations complete. When Tevin finally stuck his head into the room and told her to move upstairs, she did so quickly. She, almost more than her brother, was aware of her what her cousin was capable of. She’d been avoiding it most of her life, so these moments were particularly tense.
The entire keep was in an uproar over the earl’s visit. He had brought a huge retinue with him; knights, soldiers, servants and a couple of well-dressed women that served as both mistress and whipping post. They traveled with him wherever he went. He entered Rochester with the air of a conquering hero, his haughty gaze surveying all before him. The man knew his power and he made sure all around him knew, too.
But the earl’s interest in the bailey soon wore thin and he made way to the massive stone structure that was the heart of the castle. Just as Geoff set foot in the keep, Tevin descended the last step from the upper floors and met him nearly at the door. The young earl smiled amiably at his cousin, clapping him on his massive shoulder.
“Well, cousin,” he said, glancing about. “I can see you have this place well in hand. And a massive place it is.”
Tevin nodded faintly. “I wish you’d sent word that you were arriving early,” he said, trying to steer Geoff into the hall. “I would have been more aptly prepared for your visit. As it is, we’re scrambling to show preparations worthy of your presence.”
Geoff waved him off. “It is suitable,” he said, still looking around. “Where is the steward?”
“Penden?” Tevin snorted. “With the son dead, the father has tumbled into madness. We had to lock him in the vault for his own safety. He was trying to kill himself.”
Geoff lifted a dark-blond eyebrow. “Is that so?” he peered more closely at his surroundings. “Perhaps I should confiscate the property if the steward has lost his capacity to govern. Rochester is too strategic to leave in the hands of a madman.”
A warning bell went off in Tevin’s mind. “Rochester will not weaken an
y time soon as long as I am here,” he put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder and directed the man into the hall. “And I believe Penden’s madness is temporary. His son was everything to him. He’ll recover.”
Geoff eyed his cousin. “Mayhap. It couldn’t be that you want this place for your own, could it?”
Tevin lifted an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. “It would not do me any good even if I did. You would simply take it from me.”
Geoff laughed and slapped him on the arm. Fresh rushes, a warm fire and a hastily-assembled meal await them in the great hall. Cheese, great loaves of bread, and the last of the winter store of fruit graced the larger of the tables that lined the enormous hall. There was even a huge tray of warmed-over mutton. Geoff sashayed in the direction of the table, his gaze missing nothing; a servant, the stone used to build the hearth, the quality of the food. He was if nothing else, observant, which would make concealing Cantia, Hunt and Val something of a challenge.
Tevin knew this. He watched the man like a hawk as he collected a chalice of mead and propped his buttocks on the edge of the table. Geoff had a strangely smug expression on his face and Tevin could not figure out why, but he knew he didn’t like it. There was something odd in his manner, even more than the usually oddness, and something that would undoubtedly show itself when the time came. Tevin wasn’t at all thrilled with that thought. He tried to prepare himself.