Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(125)

Her brother hadn’t been present at the wedding and Chrystobel was grateful for small mercies because had he come, surely it wouldn’t have been the sedate ceremony she had experienced. It would have been one of apprehension and anger. Still, he was somewhere on the grounds, plotting his next move no doubt, and Chrystobel was certain that her new husband wished to know the man’s whereabouts.

When de Poyer approached Trevyn and asked if he knew both the location and intentions of his son, Chrystobel watched her father lie to the man, bold-faced. Trevyn indeed knew his son’s location and more than likely of his intentions, but he wasn’t going to tell the English knight. Whether it was to protect Gryffyn or protect Keller, Chrystobel couldn’t tell. Sometimes her father had rather conflicting loyalties, as exampled by this wedding, and he both hated and loved his son. Trevyn was a torn man inside and there were times when Chrystobel tried not to hate him for it. Their family, in general, was in turmoil.

As Chrystobel mulled over her father’s allegiances, she was somewhat startled when Keller suddenly broke away from the man and headed in her direction. Trevyn trailed after the English commander as they approached her.

“It is time to retire for the night, my lady,” Keller said in an indifferent tone. “Bid your father and sister a good sleep so that we can be on our way.”

Chrystobel struggled not to show her apprehension. It is time to retire. God’s Bones, she knew what that meant, but it was imperative that she not display any hint of anxiety in the presence of her brittle sister, so she hugged the girl tightly, kissed her on the forehead, and passed her over to her father. Izlyn didn’t go easily, however, and Chrystobel spent several minutes convincing the girl that all would be well and that she would see her in the morning. Izlyn, fearful to be away from the only mother she had ever known and fearful for the terrible world in general, was in tears.

Chrystobel could feel Keller standing beside her, the heavy weight of his gaze as he observed the situation. She thought she felt his disapproval but she could not be entirely sure. In fact, she wasn’t sure about anything and she struggled to keep an even head about her. The past few hours had been very disorienting in many ways. As she made sure her father had hold of Izlyn, she turned to Keller.

“When you arrived, I instructed the servants to clean out my father’s chamber of his possessions,” she said. “I hope it is prepared to your liking.”

Keller’s emotionless gaze was upon her. “Then they should move your things into it, since you and I will be sharing it,” he told her. “Did you instruct them to do that as well?”

Chrystobel shook her head unsteadily. “Nay, my lord,” she replied. “I did not know that I would be a married woman by this evening.”

“Then mayhap we should retire to your chamber for the night,” he said. “Mayhap you would be more comfortable there until we can arrange the master’s chamber to accommodate the both of us.”

Chrystobel wasn’t sure what to say so she nodded hesitantly. “If that is your wish, my lord.”

Keller politely reached out to take her by the elbow and began pulling her towards the door. Chrystobel was stiff, and uneasy, but she didn’t resist. As she had initially observed, he had very big hands, anyway, so she doubted she could have resisted in any case. He simply would have overwhelmed her and dragged her to the door. She fell into step beside him, her thoughts inevitably wandering to what the evening would bring. It was difficult not to feel a swamping sense of embarrassment and anxiety, and as she struggled against it, Keller spoke.

“Mayhap you will tell me something of this castle as we make our way to the keep,” he said, his manner still rather cold. “I did not see much of it upon my arrival, in truth. I went from the bailey to this hall, and other than being in the keep earlier, I’ve not seen much of that which is now mine.”

Chrystobel paused as Keller pulled open the heavy oak and iron panel. “I would be pleased, my lord,” she said, hoping that he might forgive her lies to him earlier if they were to share a pleasant conversation. They had yet to truly have one, but more than that, her nervousness loosened her tongue. “Would you like for my father to accompany us? He knows more of the castle’s defenses than I do. I am sure you are very interested in those and I cannot tell you anything about them.”

Keller cast her a glance, his intense gaze piercing her soul as he peered down his nose at her. “I will speak with your father another time,” he said. “I would rather not have a chaperone on my wedding night.”

Chrystobel flushed a dull red, lowering her head as they moved out into the gentle night beyond. It was cold but not unbearable, and she was thankful for the darkness, covering the heat of her cheeks. His comment seemed most forward, bold even, but realizing he was her husband, she rationalized that he could say whatever he wanted to her. It was his right. This cold English knight was now her family, as strange as that thought seemed. Taking a deep breath, she began to point out some of the areas of interest around the bailey.

“Nether Castle was built more than one hundred years ago by the kings of Arwystu,” she said. “It was not built of wood as most were back then, but of the great stone you will see on the hills to the east. The fortress was built with the intention of watching their northern neighbors, the Cefeliog. The original name was Annwyn, which means the Otherworld or the place where spirits dwell. Living here as we do, we are somewhat isolated and sometimes it does indeed feel as if we are in the Otherworld. The lands in this region are mysterious and full of magic. But it was the Normans who gave the castle the name that you know it by – Nether.”