Page 21 of While Angels Slept (de Lohr Dynasty #1)

W ith her healing ribs , Val couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position.

The sling back chairs did not provide enough support and the benches were too awkward.

The only way she could find even moderate relief was if she pushed a sling back chair against a wall and propped herself up with a pillow.

Ever since their return from the cathedral that morning, she had been seated in the solar in precisely that upright position.

Though she hated needlework and wasn’t any good at it, she was giving it a moderate try.

One of the serving women had given her a clean piece of linen on Lady Cantia’s old frame and several colors of silk thread.

So, like a true lady, Val was attempting to do something other than shoot arrows and thrust swords.

Truth was that she couldn’t do much else.

It was turning out to be a horrendous piece of work over the past few hours she had been attempting it.

And it was difficult to focus, too, considering the solar door was near the entry of the keep and she could see all manner of traffic passing in and out.

Cantia and Hunt came in at one point, the boy rushing into the great hall while his mother mounted the steps to the upper levels.

Then Myles came in a short time later and parked himself in a chair next to Val just to pass the time.

Val had always liked Myles. He was handsome, wise and good of character.

But he only spoke of the weather and a new charger or the price of a good sword.

Never anything she might like to hear, though she wasn’t sure what, in fact, she might like to hear from him.

Still, she wished he would speak to her of something other than warring.

Tevin came in a short time after Myles’ arrival, entered the solar, and engaged Myles in talk of de Gael’s arrival.

Myles seemed to have calmed after his initial outburst. In fact, he showed his reluctance when Tevin asked him to escort the ladies to another location for the duration of the earl’s visit.

He wanted to stay, but Tevin convinced him that escorting the ladies was far more important.

Val was secretly glad he would be going.

Maybe she could coerce him into speaking on the color of her eyes instead of the color of battle.

But thoughts of Myles aside, Val sensed something in Tevin.

Outwardly, her brother was cool and collected, as usual.

But an odd flicker in his eyes gave him an almost edgy expression.

When he spoke with Myles, it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

Val wondered if it had something to do with Cantia.

Tevin just didn’t seem like himself since they had returned from the cathedral.

To make the situation even stranger, he lingered so long in the solar that it almost seemed like he was killing time.

Tevin was a man perpetually busy, which made it seem odd for him to loiter over meaningless conversation.

But that was exactly what he appeared to be doing.

Val was becoming suspicious. Just as she was preparing to ask him why he seemed so solicitous, Hunt entered the solar with a stick in one hand and the big yellow dog on his heels. The blue-eyed boy looked up at Tevin.

“My lord,” he tugged on Tevin’s tunic. “Have you theen my grandfather?”

Tevin looked down at the child. The question surprised him. Hunt had been displaying the resilience of a child in the wake of his father’s death and his grandfather’s subsequent madness, which made the question seem odd. It was the first the boy had mentioned his grandfather in two days.

“Your grandfather is safe, Hunt,” he said evenly. “You will see him soon, I am sure.”

Hunt’s little brow was furrowed. “But he promisthed to make me a new sword. I buried my other sword with my father. Where is grandfather?”

Tevin glanced at Val. Her pale eyes were wide. She was wondering how Tevin was going to handle this delicate situation. Tevin crouched down so he was nearly eye to eye with the child.

“Your grandfather is not feeling well,” he said honestly. “He is very sad that your father has died. He needs a few days to rest and then I am sure he will be well again.”

Hunt’s eyes were the shape of Cantia’s, even if they weren’t the same color. But Tevin also saw a good deal of Brac in the little face.

“But where ith he?” Hunt persisted. “Can I go and see him?”

“Nay, lad,” Tevin did not want the boy visiting his hysterical grandfather in the vault. “Not today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

Hunt didn’t protest, though it was obvious he was disappointed. He looked at his stick and then looked back at Tevin. He raised the stick. “Will you fight me, then?”

Tevin had spent nearly an hour in the solar, marking time until the magical hour was up.

Cantia had told him one hour in her chamber, and he planned to be there right on the mark.

But gazing into Hunt’s sweet little face, he felt that he could not refuse the lonely little boy.

To have lost his father, and now his grandfather, was coming to take a toll on him.

“I will fight you,” he agreed quietly. “But you cannot fight with a stick. We will find the smithy and see if he cannot fashion you a sword suitable for a young man.”

Hunt’s eyes widened. “You will?” He beamed a big smile, complete with two missing bottom teeth. “Can we go now?”

If he took him now, he would miss his date with Cantia. But gazing into her son’s face, he suspected that she would understand. He put his hand on the boy’s blond head and turned him for the door. “We shall,” he said.

He hadn’t taken a step when Myles spoke. “I shall take him, my lord. I am sure you have more pressing duties.”

Tevin almost took the excuse. He could still make it to Cantia at the appointed time. But gazing down at the child, something deep inside would not let him be so selfish.

“I have no more pressing duties than to properly arm Master Penden,” he said. “Come along if you like.”

Myles took a few steps after him, then suddenly turned to Val as if he had just remembered she was in the room. He held out a hand to her. “Val? Come with us?”

She smiled. Tevin thought she actually blushed and he thought on Cantia’s earlier observations. Maybe she was right , he thought. Stiffly, Val rose, taking Myles’ outstretched hand. Happily, Hunt led them all from the solar and out into the yard.

The smithy had been at Rochester for years and was happy to help with Hunt’s first weapon.

He set aside what he was working on, measured Hunt’s arm, and went to work.

Frankly, with Viscount Winterton’s massive presence hanging over him, there wasn’t much else he could do.

But it was a long process, certainly not one that could be accomplished in a few hours.

As the sun dipped into the late afternoon, Tevin had never felt so restless.

All he could think of was Cantia waiting for him, and here he was playing with her son.

But he remained nonetheless, leaning back against the support beam of the smithy’s lean-to and watching the ruddy man heat the steel, pound it, cool it, and repeat the process.

More than once he had to pull Hunt out of the man’s way.

The child was so excited he could hardly stand it.

During the course of the afternoon, Val and Myles stood in quiet conversation as the smithy worked.

Eventually, Val’s ribs ached too much from standing around and Myles escorted her back into the keep.

Tevin watched his sister go, paying closer attention to the pair than he had before purely based on Cantia’s observations.

If there was something going on, he wanted to be aware of it.

Val was his only sister and he was understandably protective over her, even with a suitor as mild as Myles de Lohr.

Moreover, he was quite pleased with the prospect.

When the sun began to set, he was forced to swallow his impatience and resign himself to the fact that he would not be seeing Cantia alone this day.

As much as he had been looking forward to it, more than he had looked forward to anything in years, somehow he was not entirely disturbed.

Spending the afternoon with a very excited five year old had been a most rewarding substitute.

Hunt was a wonderful little boy and he was coming to like him a great deal.

He congratulated Brac Penden on fathering such a fine son and he was also quite sorry that Brac would never see the boy live to adulthood. It would have been a proud thing.

Lost to his thoughts as he watched the hypnotizing rhythm of the smithy, he was surprised to see Cantia enter the lean-to.

She went straight for her son and put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, asking him his business with the smithy.

Hunt promptly turned around and pointed at Tevin, still leaning up against the support column.

Partially hidden in the shadows, Cantia hadn’t seen him when she entered the shelter.

Tevin unfolded his arms and pushed himself off the beam.

“Your son came to me a few hours ago with a serious problem, my lady,” he told her as he moved in her direction. “Since he was generous enough to bury his sword with his father, he had no weapon. I told him we would remedy the situation immediately and have been here ever since.”

A light of understanding flickered in her big eyes. He saw it. She looked down at her son. “So that’s it,” she grumbled, ruffling the blond hair. “I was wondering where you went. Both of you.”