Page 26 of While Angels Slept (de Lohr Dynasty #1)

G eoffrey 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 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 any 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.

The rest of his entourage trickled in from the bailey; a couple of good knights that Tevin knew, a few soldiers that took station by the door, and the two well-dressed women.

And then, at the very end, came a face that Tevin was very familiar with.

The small figure was being pushed on a chair that was fashioned with two very large wheels.

They could hear the big iron and wooden wheels creaking as they rolled across the entrance to the keep, being lifted up over the steps by two soldiers.

Tevin hadn’t paid much attention to Geoff’s followers other than the usual gang, which was why the sight caught him completely off guard.

Geoff was up off the table, slapping his cousin yet again when he saw the expression on Tevin’s face. “See what I brought you? A present!”

Tevin ignored the man. Everything around him ceased to exist as he practically ran to the entrance, falling on his knees beside the wheeled chair. He collected the tiny hands that were outstretched to him .

“Bella,” he breathed. “You’re here, sweetheart. How…?”

Arabel Berthilde Solveig du Reims threw her frail arms around her father’s neck.

She was a little thing, no larger than a child of perhaps ten or eleven years of age, but she had a most unique and remarkable beauty.

With her father’s nearly-black eyes and cascades of blond hair, she was a striking picture, like a delicate little bird that needed love and protection.

And her father, the powerful viscount, was extremely, if not obsessively, protective of her.

That was why his momentary surprise at her arrival suddenly transformed into something very angry and murderous.

Oddly, he wasn’t angry because he feared for his daughter’s virtue against the lecherous earl.

As immoral as Geoff was, he wasn’t stupid.

He knew that any suggestive move against Arabel would result in his death.

Tevin was angry because, quite simply, he feared for his daughter’s safety against external forces.

He feared the world around her. And a trip from Thunderbey Castle to Rochester was wrought with peril for his only child.

“Father,” Arabel squeezed her father’s neck as tightly as her weak arms would allow.

“Cousin Geoff came to Thunderbey to seek counsel with you. But I told him you were still at Rochester so he offered to bring me along. It’s been so long since I have seen you and I missed you terribly. Wasn’t that kind of him?”

A very simple explanation in a matter of seconds. Leave it to Arabel to know what her father was feeling, the excessive protectiveness and concern. Tevin tried hard to control his anger in the wake of her lovely, smiling face. He put his massive hands on her cheeks.

“Of course I am pleased to see you,” he kissed her fair face. “But transporting you over miles of open road does not, in fact, please me. I left you at Thunderbey for a reason. You were safe there.”

Arabel’s features softened. “But I was alone. I wanted to come and see you. Why have you not come home yet?”

Tevin gazed into the eyes of his beloved daughter, suddenly feeling like a horrible man.

He had not come home because he had wanted to stay near Cantia, pure and simple.

It was wrong of him and in that instant he saw just how wrong it was.

It had only been him and Arabel for many years.

He loved her more than a man should probably love his child.

He had left her alone while he went off to fight Geoff’s war and then stayed because he was more interested in something at Rochester.

Geoff came up behind him as Tevin thought of a plausible answer to his absence and slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you pleased, then? How could I leave your lovely young lady at home when she so desperately wanted to see her father?”

Tevin cocked an eyebrow, rising to his formidable height as he faced his cousin. His stiff body language was evident. “You should not have risked her on the journey here,” he said in a low voice. “She is very delicate. Traveling does not agree with her.”

Geoff waved him off. “We brought her maid servants and she was protected by ten men. She was well taken care of in either case. What are you worried about?”

“I left her at Thunderbey to protect her, Geoff. You had no right to bring her to Rochester and put her in peril as you have. This entire area is under threat. You know this. God only knows what could have happened to your party on the open road.”

Geoff simply shook his head, a smirk on his face. “You worry like an old woman. Arabel needs the adventure of travel. You keep her caged like an animal.”