Cantia gazed up at him, forcing a smile. “He will understand,” she murmured, then lay her head against his bicep affectionately. “But I do not want to linger on such things today. It has been ages since we have spent time such as this and I would have that time spent on happier things.”
He grinned. “What, for instance?”
“Your sister,” she said firmly. “Let us speak of the permission you are going to give Myles to wed her.”
His smile vanished. “Permission to marry?”
Cantia didn’t back down at his nearly threatening tone. “Aye, you are going to give it, and give it today. I will not wait to see Val happy. She loves him, you know. At least… at least one of us should be allowed to marry the man we love.”
Tevin’s good humor faded completely. Her words were like a punch in the gut, something they hadn’t discussed since the day Tevin had confessed everything to her. It seemed like ages ago. He didn’t want to think about it but knew that ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. He sighed heavily.
“Cantia….”
She cut him off. “Please, Tevin. Do this for me.”
He came to a halt and faced her, his hands on her arms. “Everything I do is for you,” he acknowledged. “But Val is….”
Cantia cut him off a second time. “Val is in love with Myles and he with her,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “You must understand what it is for a woman to love a man so much that he is all she can taste or feel. To be kept from completing that circle of love and devotion, to be kept from marrying him and becoming his wife, is nothing short of torture. I live that torture more and more every day. Therefore, please tell Myles that he may have permission to marry Val. I ask this of you.”
Tevin could see the emotions in her expression and it raked at his heart like great clawed talons. “Do you not think it tears at me also?” he whispered gently. “Do you not think it eats at me every day, more and more, until I can hardly breathe? I love you more than life itself, Cantia. You are my all for living. Surely you know that.”
“I know that.”
Tevin regarded her a moment, her expression, reading the flicker in her eyes and the expression on her features. He could see something in the depths.
“But you need proof.” He thought he understood what she was thinking. “I told you I would find out what had become of Louisa but I have made no effort to do so yet.”
Cantia shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “That is not true. I know that….”
This time, Tevin cut her off. “Aye, it is,” he insisted. “So much has happened over the past few weeks that I have been swamped with what I thought were more important things. I should have sent out messengers long ago to find out what I could of Louisa but I have not. I beg your forgiveness, sweetheart, truly.”
Cantia shook her head firmly, putting her fingers over his lips to silence him. “I know you have been occupied,” she said. “You have had very important things to attend to, I do understand that. But finding Louisa… it is a risk, after all. We could search for years and never know, I suppose.”
Tevin put a big hand on her head, stroking her hair with tenderness. “I was thinking,” he ventured, “that if we could perhaps get a signed statement from her father saying that she abandoned her marriage and her child, that the church would perhaps annul the marriage on that basis. It is worth a try.”
Cantia looked hopeful. “Where is her father?”
“Saxony.”
Her face fell somewhat. “That is a long way away. Would you go yourself?”
He nodded. “I would.”
“You would not leave me here, would you?”
His dark eyes flickered. “I could not stand to be separated from you for so long,” he said. “We could take Hunt and Val and Myles also. It would be a grand adventure for us all and perhaps we could be married in Saxony. I am sure I could convince her father to help us.”
Cantia was back to being hopeful. “Oh, Tevin,” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. “It would be the most wonderful thing.”
He hugged her tightly. “It is settled, then.”
“It is,” she said, releasing him. “But do not forget that Gillywiss swore he would look for Louisa as well. Perhaps if the annulment fails, we can look to him for his assistance.”
Tevin cocked a dark eyebrow. “Which reminds me,” he said. “I have not yet asked you why you told the man so much personal information about us.”
Cantia shrugged as she tried not to look too contrite. “The truth was that he was holding us prisoner for a time,” she admitted. “He threatened us. I thought that if I told him something about me, it might make him more sympathetic towards us and let us go. He discovered I was not your wife but your mistress and… well, the conversation took a turn as to why you could not marry me.”
Tevin could see it was a logical progression but he was still uneasy about it. “How much does he know?”
“Most of it. What I did not tell him, Arabel did. She was afraid and her mouth simply ran amuck. Please do not be angry with us.”
He shook his head. “I am not,” he said. “But I will admit I am uncomfortable with an outlaw knowing so much about me and my life.”
Cantia thought on the very strange man she had come to know. “I do not think he is truly a bad man,” she said. “He was rather odd and pitiful, actually. He seemed to like my clothes a great deal. He tried them on more than once.”
Tevin’s eyebrows lifted. “Truly?” he thought on that. “Strange.”
She nodded. “Strange, indeed,” she said. “I think in the end, however, he would have let us go. I believe he held some pity towards us.”
Tevin wasn’t sure what to say to that so he merely nodded, dropping his hands from her arms and clasping her hand in his big one. He began to walk again, taking her with him. He glanced around the enormous fortress, feeling more relaxed and settled than he had in weeks. Life was returning to a sense of normalcy and for that, he was grateful. For the first time in his life, he was genuinely looking forward to what the future may hold.
As Tevin kissed Cantia’s hand, watching her smile happily at him, sentries began to take up the call on the walls. Tevin paused, listening to the chatter before calling up to the men to see what all the activity was about.
A rider was evidently approaching and Tevin remained safely back from the gatehouse with Cantia in his grip as the rider passed underneath the portcullis and was met by several armed guards. They pulled the man off his horse and stripped him of his weaponry before they allowed him to deliver his message. The man approached Tevin wearily.
“Dartford is under attack again, my lord,” the man told him. “Lord Chafford is requesting your aide.”
Lord Chafford was the baron currently in charge of Dartford Crossing, a local baron north of the crossing with a sizable fighting force loyal to Stephen of Blois. Tevin had discovered this the day he had returned with Cantia from her outlaw imprisonment and had already been in touch with the man, allowing him to hold fast the bridge with the Earl of East Anglia’s considerable support. Chafford was closer to the bridge logistically so it made sense for him to control it. Now, East Anglia’s support was being called upon.
“Who are the opposing forces?” Tevin asked.
The messenger appeared grim. “We are not sure, my lord,” he said. “It could be Surrey.”
Surrey was a sizable support network behind Matilda. More than that, it was the same force they had fought with when Brac had been killed. Tevin was already motioning to a few of the senior soldiers standing around him.
“Mount the men,” he told them. “We ride within the hour.”
As the men broke up to do the earl’s bidding, Tevin quickly escorted Cantia back towards the keep. He turned to say something to her at the base of the stairs but the words caught in his throat when he saw that she was silently weeping. He put his arms around her.
“Why do you weep?” he asked gently, kissing her forehead.
>
Cantia drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Because I am a foolish woman,” she tried to smile off her behavior. “You must hurry now. Your men are assembling.”
Tevin opened his mouth to reply but stopped short when Myles came flying down the exterior stairs and Tevin informed the man of the situation. As Myles raced off to do Tevin’s bidding, Tevin returned his attention to Cantia.
“Please tell me why you weep,” he whispered.
Cantia was wiping at her cheeks, struggling to compose herself. “Please,” she shook her head, not wanting to speak on her feelings. “You must go. I will see you when you return.”
“I am not leaving until you tell me why you are crying.”
Her brave façade wavered, clearly reluctant to speak. But she relented after a few moments of struggle.
“Because the last time there was a call to retake the bridge, Brac was killed,” she whispered. Her gaze grew intense. “I cannot help but remember that moment he was brought to me with arrows sticking out of him. Tevin, if they were to return you to me in that condition, I swear I would be buried with you. I could not go on.”
Tevin suspected the reason behind her tears and was prepared. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his face buried in the side of her head.
“That will not happen to me, not today,” he assured her softly. “I have much to live for. I swear to you that I will return in good health.”
She squeezed him tightly. “I believe you.”
“Do you truly?”
“Aye.”
Tevin pulled back to look her in the eye, just to make sure she wasn’t lying to him. Seeing the luscious features gazing steadily back at him, he kissed her sweetly, twice, and gently directed her towards the stairs that led to the keep.
“Then go inside,” he told her. “Make sure the keep is locked down. Admit no one until Myles and I return. Is that clear?”
“It is.”
He blew a kiss at her. “I love you,” he whispered as he turned to walk away. “Go inside now.”
Cantia blew a kiss in return, mounting the steps to the keep as she watched Tevin head back towards the gatehouse. When he turned to look at her, she waved and took the steps quickly so he would not grow agitated with her. Once inside the keep, she and a male servant threw the heavy bolt across the door as ordered. Then, she went into the solar to wait out the men’s return with Val.
It was a very long night, but Tevin returned whole and sound as he had promised.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
May, 1140 A.D.
Cantia could feel Tevin’s hand on her belly. Asleep or awake, his hands seemed to gravitate there, feeling the round firmness of her stomach and being rewarded on occasion with strong kicks. Even now, before dawn, they lay naked in each other’s arms, burrowed beneath the covers on a cold May morning with his arms around her and his hand on her belly. Half-asleep, Cantia could feel the strong movements of the baby.
“He is very busy this morning,” Tevin mumbled, his face against the side of her head. “How can you sleep through that?”
Cantia giggled. “I can sleep through it fine,” she pretended to be irritated and rolled away from him. “It is your talking that keeps me awake.”
Tevin’s arms tightened when he realized she was trying to move away from him.
“Nay, lady,” he muttered. “You’ll not escape me.”
Her laughter grew as he pulled her back against him, wedging himself between her legs as his hands stroked her belly and his lips nibbled sleepily on her ear. Eventually, he lifted her leg so that it was over his hip, his fingers seeking intimate places and listening to her groan softly with pleasure. When he withdrew his fingers and entered her from behind, very carefully, Cantia turned herself over to him completely.
This was a normal morning for them. Cantia would usually awake to Tevin making love to her. His powerful seed had taken root sometime back in the late fall, during that time when she was worried if she’d ever be able to conceive again. Their child was due in the summer and it was all Tevin could speak of. In his world, it was the most important thing that blinded his thoughts to all else.
The man had always been inordinately attentive and passionate, but with the event of the pregnancy, his attentiveness, concern and understand knew no bounds. He made it well known that there was no child ever born that had been more welcome, and Cantia was always made to feel that surely there was no woman more loved. He clearly adored her and she clearly adored him.
Even now as he filled her with proof of his desire, all Cantia could feel from him was his deep love and devotion to her. The fact that she was to give birth to his bastard didn’t matter. To her, she was simply giving birth to the child of the man she loved and there was nothing more to it. No shame, no stigma. She had told Gillywiss once that she and Tevin were married in their hearts as much as any man and woman ever was, and it was the truth. She would give birth to this son, and then she would give birth to a dozen more just like him. The mighty Earl of East Anglia must have his legacy.
The physical changes had come over her fairly rapidly as her belly grew quickly. She felt fine most of the time except for occasional exhaustion, but her sexual appetite was enormous. Because of the way the child would sit in her belly, she experienced climaxes so powerful that Tevin had to put his hand over her mouth to keep her screams down and this morning was no exception. Cantia experienced a strong release that had her crying out in ecstasy. Tevin simply put his mouth over hers, kissing her passionately and trying to keep the noise down as he spent himself inside her. Never in his life had he known such desire or lust. It was beyond his wildest dreams.
“You,” he admonished, his mouth still on hers, “must contain yourself, madam. One of these days your cries are going to raise the roof and I will have a good deal of explaining to do.”
She grinned sleepily, satisfied, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you complaining, my lord?”
He grinned devilishly. “Never,” he kissed her again. “But I fear you are drawing the concern of Arabel. Her chamber is right below ours, you know. I think she heard you once because she asked me what you were screaming about. You know how I am when she asks me questions like that.”
Cantia laughed softly. “You become tongue-tied and embarrassed,” she teased. “The only things that can stump the mighty Earl of East Anglia are personal questions from his fifteen-year-old daughter.”
He made a face at her, kissed her one last time, and climbed out of bed. It was still dark in the room, as it was just before sunrise, so he lit a fat taper with a flint and stone purely so he could see where he was walking. The massive wardrobe over by the wall was his destination and he opened the doors to a neat and tidy network of possessions, long cleared of Brac Penden’s remnants.
“I have a conference in Thurrock this evening with Lord Chafford,” he said, turning to glance at her. “You remember him, do you not?”
Cantia was sitting up in bed. She made a face. “Of course,” she said, reaching for her dressing robe on the end of the bed. “A fat man with foul breath.”
Tevin grinned as he pulled forth leather breeches. “That may be,” he said, pulling on his breeches, “but the man commands a strong force that has held Dartford Crossing for months. It would seem that Stephen has been in touch with the man and wants to meet with us both, evidently. Lord Chafford and I need to discuss strategy for that meeting.”
“Am I coming with you?”
“I would prefer that you did not. His stronghold is north of the Dartford Bridge and I must cross it in order to reach him. I do not want you on that bridge right now, not with all of the fighting that has gone on around it over the past several months.”
She didn’t like that answer. “Why cannot Lord Chafford come to Rochester? Why must you go to him?”
“Because he invited me.”
“You are the earl, Tevin. You do not bow to another’s summons. Tell him you will meet him at Rochester.”
It was no
t a request or suggestion. It was a command. He fought off a grin. Cantia had been quite the tyrant as of late, unusual for the normally sweet and accommodating lady. He found the fire of pregnancy quite humorous at times, but he also had a healthy respect for it. If he didn’t defer to her wishes in all things, there was often hell to pay. The powerful Earl of East Anglia was controlled by a lovely slip of a woman and he didn’t give a lick about it. He loved it.
“If that is your wish, sweetheart, then I will send him word and tell him to come here tonight.”
“Good,” she nodded her head decisively. “Let that be the end of it.”
“You will have to entertain him and be a party to his foul breath all evening, then.”
She made a face at him. “I would rather suffer through it than have you away from me, even for a night.”
He just smiled at her as he pulled a heavy linen tunic from the wardrobe. Cantia was on her feet, pulling the robe over her head as she moved for a second robe that was heavy brocade lined with lamb’s wool.
“Why would Stephen want to meet with you both?” she wanted to know.
Tevin pulled a tunic over his head followed by another one of heavier wool. “Because I control the south side of the Dartford Bridge along with all of the roads from Gillingham to Wellhall. Moreover, East Anglia is my stronghold and I have ten thousand men at my disposal. I am more important to Stephen than most.”
She fell silent as she sat down on the bed to pull on her doeskin boots, very warm in the cold morning.
“Rochester is far from East Anglia,” she said softly. “When do you plan to return to Thunderbey Castle?”
He glanced over his shoulder to reply, noticing she was having difficulty pulling on her shoes. Her belly was already quite large and got in the way of normal activities. He went over to her, taking the boot and gently slipping it on her foot.
“Not until this baby is born,” he said. “Many things have been put on hold because of him.”
Cantia watched him pull on her shoe. “Like our trip to Saxony to seek Louisa’s father?”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 69