Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(163)

“It will not end,” she promised softly. “I understand you have been hurt, but I promise I will do all in my power not to hurt you, ever. I… I am sorry I lied to you about Gryffyn, truly, but I did not know you. You were an outsider and what he did… it was so shameful. It was such a terrible thing to admit, even to you.”

Keller could feel her hand on his, her warm fingers caressing him, and he wanted so badly to give in to the comfort. Was it possible that she was able to give him comfort, to show him affection? He’d never known such a thing in his entire life. Was it really possible that this glorious creature could find it within her heart to tolerate him? Or, perhaps someday… more than tolerate? It was a terrifying, hopeful thought.

Looking into her beautiful face, he suddenly felt very embarrassed and very self-conscious about his outburst. He felt like a fool. Pulling away from her grasp, he headed for the door.

“I must go,” he muttered. “I must see to my guests.”

Chrystobel ran after him, grabbing him by the arm to stop him from leaving. “Wait,” she said. “Please do not leave.”

He tried to pull away from her, but not too hard. Not hard enough to really make a difference. “I must,” he said, refusing to look her in the eye. “I have not seen Rhys or Gart in over a year and there is much… we have much….”

“You will see them in the morning,” Chrystobel said firmly, cutting him off and putting herself between Keller and the door. “I did not see my husband last night and… you said yourself that we have not spent… well, spent time together. You slept through the night with your injury and your weariness. Will you be away from me this night, too?”

Keller was still having difficulty looking at her but, eventually, he had little choice other than looking her in the eye. When their gazes locked, Chrystobel smiled timidly and he could feel himself relent. But he was still horribly embarrassed for his outburst and he was having a difficult time overcoming that.

“Nay,” he murmured. “I will not be away this night, too.”

“Swear it?”

“I swear.”

Chrystobel smiled. “Then go and see your friends if you must, but you will return to me,” she said. “In fact, I will prepare my father’s chamber for us. We can sleep in there tonight.”

He eyed her. “Mayhap there is another chamber we can sleep in,” he tried to suggest kindly. “Mayhap it will be too difficult for you to sleep in your father’s chamber so soon after his passing.”

Chrystobel’s smile faded and she glanced over her shoulder at Izlyn to see if the girl was listening. Fortunately, Izlyn seemed to be dozing off. Chrystobel lowered her voice.

“I have had much to think about since my father’s death,” she said softly. “Although it is true that he is my father and for that reason alone I will mourn him, the truth is that he was never much of a father to me or to Izlyn. He let Gryffyn beat us, hurt us, and he never did much to stop it. I often begged him to but he would never take action. Eventually, I stopped begging. It was of no use. Is… is it wicked of me to feel more resentment towards him than grief? I cannot seem to help it.”

Keller’s expression reflected her own. “If it is wicked, then we are sinning together,” he said with some regret. “I have harbored a great deal of disgust towards your father and his reasoning for why he did not prevent your brother from wreaking havoc. How does your sister feel about all of this? Have you been able to tell?”

Chrystobel glanced over her shoulder at her sister, back in the shadows of the room. “I believe she feels much the same way I do,” she said softly. “Whenever Gryffyn would throw her in the vault, or strike her, more often than not she would come to me for comfort. My father… he would release her from the vault only to stand by and do nothing when Gryffyn would put her back in again. Much like me, she learned not to depend on him. I am sure she feels grief, but I do not know to what extent.”

Keller pondered that. Both women with an ineffective father, struggling to come to terms with his death. He was their father, a fixture in their lives… but he was also a failure. It was difficult to know how to feel. After a moment, he let out a quiet breath.

“I suppose to your father, his reasons were sound for what he did,” he said. “Mayhap he ultimately feared your brother because your brother beat him as well. But I suppose we will never truly know why he let Gryffyn spread his terror as he did.”

Chrystobel shrugged vaguely, in agreement, trying not to linger over the anger she felt towards Trevyn now that he was gone. She was very torn between natural grief and bitterness. Taking a deep breath, perhaps to help her move past the memories, she looked up at Keller.

“Mayhap you are correct,” she agreed. “In any case, I will go and prepare his chamber for us now. I will expect you once you have seen to your guests.”

Keller nodded and moved past her without so much as a kiss or a hint of affection. She was his wife, after all, and he should have at least shown some consideration, but he found that he was too embarrassed. The woman had been the recipient of his unguarded thoughts and the more he thought about it as he headed out of the keep, the more ashamed he became. Unused to such feelings, he had no idea how to handle them.

When he reached the hall, most of the men had either passed out around the room or left entirely to go sleep off the effects of the powerful cider. George and Aimery were gone, but William, Rhys, and Gart were still sitting where Keller had left them. When they saw the man enter the hall, they waved him over to join them.