Page 100 of While Angels Slept
“You would rather have her believe I abandoned her because she was deformed and not because she was her mother’s bastard?”
He looked at her sharply. “She has already been hurt by what she believes to be the truth,” he said. “If you tell her your real reasons, she will be hurt twice by your departure and betrayal. This I will not allow. No matter if she is truly not of my blood, I have raised her as my own and sheismy daughter. I love her as much as I ever did and if you hurt her again, I swear to God that you shall not like my response. I am granting you the privilege of meeting this beautiful, young womanwhom you gave birth to, who you are wholly unworthy of. Do not betray my good graces again.”
Louisa’s dark eyes were wide on him. After a moment, she simply nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”
“If you have to tell her something, make it tales of glory that will make her feel good about herself, not like a worthless cripple whose mother abandoned her at birth. If you must say something to her, give her something to dream.”
Louisa carefully regarded him. His words spoke of a very great love for Arabel, surprising when men were usually not the emotional sort. “I see you now as I saw you then. A man of great feeling,” she said. “That is a rare thing, my lord.”
Tevin’s response was to shoot her a look of impatience before he turned for the door. As he put his hand on the panel, Louisa’s soft voice stopped him.
“Iamsorry, my lord,” she said with as much strength as she could muster. “Please know how sorry I am for what I did. I am sorry we did not have the life together you had planned for.”
Tevin looked at the woman. He couldn’t muster the pity for her that Cantia had. “I suspect you are only sorry because your life did not turn out as you had hoped,” he said frankly. “If you and your knight had lived a long and healthy life together, you would not be sorry in the least. You would consider Arabel and me a casualty of your decision and nothing more.”
As he left the shack, Louisa came to realize he was right. He was right about something else, too.
Perhaps she should give Arabel something to dream.
*
“Father, I do notwant you to go in with me,” Arabel told Tevin as they crossed the bailey towards the smithy shacks. “I will speak to Lady Louisa alone.”
Tevin was carrying his daughter in his arms. Her latest statementhad his brow furrowing.
“You cannot go in alone,” he said flatly.
“Why not?” Arabel demanded. “She cannot hurt me.”
“Nay, she cannot hurt you, but the fact remains that I will be there.”
“Why?”
“Because I will.”
“But she may be afraid to speak if you are there,” Arabel pointed out. “You are quite frightening when you want to be, Father.”
“I will go in with her,” Cantia said quietly, following the pair.
“Nay,” Tevin said firmly, glancing at his lady. “I will go in. You may accompany us if you wish, but know that I am not comfortable with it. I wish you would simply stay out.”
Cantia looked at him. “I am not going to stay out. If you go in, I go in.”
Tevin rolled his eyes. “Stubborn woman,” he muttered as they reached the shack. He stuck out a foot and pulled the door open. “Then stay close. If you get too close to her, I shall carry you out and spank you soundly.”
Cantia fought off a grin at the threat, lowering her head because she did not want Tevin to see her face. He was edgy enough as it was and she didn’t want to push him. Tevin was already moving into the dim, musty shack, keeping Arabel far from the figure lying in the shadows upon piles of fresh straw. He couldn’t set Arabel down because there were no chairs in the room, so he stood several feet away from the bed and cleared his throat softly.
“Louisa,” he said, his tone low as he deliberately left out “Lady”. “We have arrived. Are you awake?”
The figure on the musty mattress stirred slightly. Bits of chaff blew up in the air as she moved, settling upon the uneven floor. Several long moments passed before a faint voice began to speak.
“In the fall, the trees will turn shades of orange and gold, soft strokes of the colors of sunset that appear vibrant against the deep blue sky.” The voice from the bed was barely audible. “In the winter, thecolors will disappear and the trees will be hidden by blankets of white snow, glistening and puffy pillows that look like clouds but melt to the touch. When I was a child, my brother and I used to run wild in the fields of shimmering snow that the old people would call Winter’s Tears. We would make shapes in the snow. Have you ever seen snow, Arabel?”
Arabel was listening intently, mesmerized by the first sound of her mother’s heavily accented French. It was a deep, raspy tone, not what she had imagined or expected.
“A few times,” she replied softly. “But it usually melts and turns to mud. It never stays very long.”
The vinegar-soaked rag came away from Louisa’s face as she gazed at her daughter, nestled in her father’s big arms. Arabel was several feet away but still, Louisa could see her delicate features. She was a beautiful woman, looking very much like her mother had at that age. Tears sprang to her eyes.
