Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(176)

Keller removed his helm, setting it down next to the door. “Then you harbor no feelings for the man?” he asked. “Our marriage did not interrupt a budding love with ap Gwynwynwyn?”

She looked at him, disgusted. “Never!” she hissed. “Colvyn is not someone I could have feelings for, not in the least.”

Keller felt markedly better to hear that. In fact, the declaration gave him an abundance of courage. “Am I someone you could have feelings for?” he asked softly.

Chrystobel appeared surprised by the question, but just as quickly, a bashful smile spread across her lips and she lowered her gaze so that he could not see her hot cheeks. Keller saw them, anyway.

“Mayhap,” she said coyly. “I have hardly known you enough to know for sure.”

That was true, but Keller was enchanted by her brightly blushing cheeks. “But you could at least have an inkling as to whether or not I am worthy.”

Chrystobel wouldn’t look at him. “It is too soon, I tell you.”

Keller grinned. “I believe you are someone I could have feelings for,” he said softly. “In fact, I am sure of it.”

Her head shot up, her dark eyes wide on him. She thought on the poem he’d had Izlyn write, one that spoke of new beginnings. Could it be true? Could he really have feelings for her? Gazing into his dusky blue eyes, she could see the sincerity and hope in them. She could see the man’s naked optimism for something he very much wanted to happen. The seed was there. She could feel it. It was a seed that had been planted over the course of the past couple of days, against all odds or expectations. Now, the seed needed to be nurtured.

“I’ve not yet thanked you for the poem you told Izlyn to write for me,” she said softly. “It is the most beautiful poem I have ever read.”

He smiled modestly. “I had hoped you would like it,” he said. Then, his gaze grew intense. “Chrystobel, I must again extend my deepest apologies for failing to keep my word to you last night. Please know that it was not intentional. I would never intentionally break my word to you. You are my wife and by that station alone you will always have my greatest respect. I would never intentionally do anything to harm or anger you. What I said in the poem was true. In you, I see the magic of a new beginning for us both.”

Chrystobel was caught up in the sweet lure of his statement. It was a thrilling and fulfilling thought, and the hurt and anger she had felt earlier in the day vanished like a puff of smoke. She couldn’t have remembered it if she tried.

“I… I think I do, too,” she said quietly. “Keller, I should not have dismissed you so harshly when you tried to explain what had happened. My sister finally told me. I should have guessed it was the cider that put you to sleep before you could return. I should not have assumed the worst.”

Keller rolled his eyes. “That damnable cider,” he grunted. “I have never in my life ingested anything so utterly devilish. I will never touch that drink again.”

Chrystobel grinned at his dramatic statement. “My father brought it out for only special occasions,” she said. “Otherwise, it has been left in stores to continue fermenting. I should have warned you.”

Keller shook his head as if shaking off bad memories of the potent drink. “I think we should give it to every enemy of Nether,” he said. “That will take care of them quickly enough.”

Chrystobel laughed softly, sobering as she met his glimmering gaze. “I am very sorry I became angry with you,” she said quietly. “It was unkind of me.”

Keller’s gaze lingered on her a moment before reaching over for his saddlebags. “You should not have apologized so quickly,” he said. “I have brought you gifts and now you have taken away my reason to give them to you. I was going to buy your forgiveness.”

Chrystobel laughed but she was also very interested. “Gifts?” she repeated, quickly playing his game. “Very well, then. I have not forgiven you, you abominable man. Now, may I have my gifts?”

He grinned, enjoying her sense of humor. “Do you have a mirror?”

Chrystobel nodded, moving for her dressing table and producing a polished bronze mirror. “It belonged to my mother,” she said. “Why do you need it?”

His gaze was intense upon her. “I do not need it at all,” he said softly. “But you will. Close your eyes.”

Chrystobel wanted to question him further but did as she was told. Dutifully closing her eyes, she stood still, ears attuned, as she listened to Keller move about. She could hear him rummaging through something, his big boots moving softly over the wooden floor. She heard him as he moved closer to her and then there was something against her neck, cold and hard, and she was very eager to open her eyes and look at it. She was so eager than she started bouncing around and she heard Keller sigh.

“If you do not hold still, I will never close this hook and you will never get to see it,” he scolded gently.

Chrystobel came to a halt but it was difficult for her. She was grinning with excitement. Behind her, Keller finished the clasp and grinned.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

Chrystobel did. Looking into the mirror, the first thing she saw was the magnificent pearl and emerald necklace, and her eyes widened as a hand flew up to touch the magnificent piece. The smile vanished from her face.

“God’s Bones,” she exclaimed softly. “For me? Truly?”