Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(133)

But in the next breath, her new husband had sworn to protect her. She didn’t know the man and she didn’t yet trust his word – should she believe him? Or should she do her brother’s will simply to keep her family alive? Her entire life had been filled with these moments, threats of murder from a man who delighted in spreading panic. She was so very sick of the fear, so perhaps it was time to do something about it.

The dirk was still in her hand and she opened her palm to look at it, gleaming dully in the weak firelight. Perhaps it was time to take a leap of faith to save her father and her sister, to trust a man she had only known a matter of hours. She was coming to feel as if Keller de Poyer was her only hope, an English enemy who had sworn to defend her. Nay, she could no longer subject herself and her family to Gryffyn’s tyranny because to do so, ultimately, would only cause their deaths. This she knew as certainly as she lived and breathed. Someday, someway, Gryffyn would kill them all.

It was time to take a stand.

*

It was an hour or two before dawn by the time Keller made his way back to Chrystobel’s chamber. Over six hours of searching had failed to produce Gryffyn, so he put his men on shifts to watch over the Welsh inhabitants of Nether. Half went to bed while the other half remained awake and vigilant, guarding the unhappy Welsh.

The more the minutes passed, the more enraged he was about Gryffyn’s absence. He was coming to think that the man had fled the castle, which would have been the right thing to do. Gryffyn was more intelligent than he gave him credit for if that was the case, and as Keller made his way up to Chrystobel’s chamber, he struggled to push aside thoughts of the man. He didn’t want to carry that poison over into the lady’s chamber. He didn’t want that vile man on his mind when he looked at her.

The keep was dark and quiet at this hour as he reached the second floor landing. There were two chambers on this floor and he went to the chamber on the left, the one that overlooked the southern portion of the bailey. Lifting the latch, he gave a shove but the door was bolted. He knocked softly.

It took a moment for him to hear movement. He could hear feet on the floor, coming closer. Chrystobel’s voice hissed at him from the other side of the panel.

“Who comes?” she demanded.

“It is your husband, Lady de Poyer.”

He could hear the iron bolt being thrown, grating against the wood. The door opened slightly, but only enough to allow Chrystobel out. Keller was forced to step back as she came onto the landing, closing the chamber door behind her. He couldn’t help but notice that she was in a sleeping shift with a heavy shawl draped around her shoulders. A sleeping shift made him think of a bed, and a bed made him think of consummating their marriage. She also smelled of flowers, something he found quite alluring. He was still dwelling on the scent of violets when she began to speak, jolting him out of his somewhat lustful thoughts.

“Izlyn is asleep and I did not wish to wake her with our conversation,” she whispered. “I must speak with you.”

Keller could sense her grim mood. “How may I be of service?”

Chrystobel looked up at him, her brown eyes deep and bottomless. It was evident that there was much on her mind, a thousand questions without adequate answers. He was coming to see that the woman had no ability to hide her emotions. They were written all over her face. After a moment, she sighed faintly.

“Did you find my brother?” she asked.

“Nay.”

She grunted softly. “Nor will you, I suppose,” she muttered. “My lord, I must ask you something and I would beg you to be truthful.”

“I always am.”

She was very hesitant and the words came out in spurts. “You… you are a stranger here,” she said nervously. “I have only known you a few hours, yet you are my husband. I do not know you as a man of character or honor yet. I can only assume such things because of your rank. You said earlier that Gryffyn’s violence towards us would be no more and I very much hope… that is to say, I want to believe you. But there are things you do not know.”

Keller took her statement very seriously. He crossed his big arms, bracing his legs apart as he settled in for the conversation. “I suspect there is a great deal I do not know about this place and about you,” he said. “But the question is whether or not you intend to tell me, or if you intend on keeping secrets.”

She looked both surprised and offended. “It is not secrets I keep but family realities,” she said. “This is my family and there are things….”

He interrupted her. “I told you earlier than you and your family belongs to me now,” he said. “I am your family and it is my right to know what goes on here. What is it that you are not telling me?”

Her nervousness was growing worse. “All families have issues that they do not wish to share with outsiders,” she said. “You, my lord, are an outsider.”

“I am your husband.”

“But I do not know you.”

“If you continue to keep secrets, you will never come to know me and I will always be a stranger to you. Is that what you truly wish?”

Nay, she didn’t. Chrystobel looked at him, his intense gaze and intelligent face, and realized that he made a good deal of sense. He was her husband, and would be forever, and it was time to build the bridges of trust unless she wanted a miserable marriage. She would have to make the first move because she very much wanted his help and she wanted to believe him when he said he would defend her. With a deep breath for courage, she opened her mouth to speak but tears popped to her eyes instead. It was fear, pure and simple. She had to fight through it.