Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(182)

It was warm and fragrant in the chamber, with a bright fire in the hearth and two fat tapers lit against the early morning dimness. As Keller stood in the doorway, he found he only had eyes for Chrystobel. Like an angel, she looked radiant and beautiful at this early hour and as he gazed at her, thoughts of the previous night came rolling into his mind again. Although Keller was a worldly man who had seen and experienced more than most, he had never experienced a touch like Chrystobel’s. There was something about her that seemed to strengthen him and weaken him all at the same time. He couldn’t explain it any better than that. All he knew was that, somehow, she had gotten under his skin and he wasn’t the least but sorry about it.

As Keller stood there and stared, Chrystobel caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see her husband standing just inside the door. When their eyes met, she smiled sweetly at the man, giddy as she had never been giddy in her life. She had awoken a short time ago, noticing that Keller was gone but taking a few moments to lay in the covers, warm and cozy, recalling the night before when she’d finally become his wife in the literal sense. Keller had touched her body in ways she’d never imagined possible and even as she thought on it, her cheeks grew warm with the recollection of the giddy pleasure he’d given her. It was an entirely new aspect of life she’d never known to exist.

Once averse to the marriage, now she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t been married and loved every moment of it. Her expression must have given away her thoughts because Keller seemed to have the same warm expression on his face, too.

“Greetings, Lady de Poyer,” he said, his voice low and soft. “You are looking lovely this morn.”

Chrystobel looked down at the dark green surcoat she was wearing, the same one she had worn yesterday.

“Thank you,” she said, a faint blush mottling her cheeks. “And… and you? Are you well this day?”

“Most well now that I have seen you.”

Chrystobel grinned shyly, catching a glimpse of Izlyn and noticing the girl was giggling at her rather besotted reaction to Keller’s compliment. Irritated with her sister’s taunts, she turned her back on the girl as she made her way to Keller.

“I assumed you would want to leave early for Machynlleth,” she said. “Izlyn and I shall be ready to travel shortly.”

Keller held up a hand to ease her. “Take your time,” he said. “I am still preparing the escort and seeing to the security of the castle for the duration of our absence.”

Chrystobel nodded. “Then we shall be ready when you are,” she said. “I was about to go and see to the morning meal.”

“I already have.”

Her brow furrowed. “But that is a woman’s task,” she said, confused. “Why would you do that?”

“So you would not have to,” he said, his dusky eyes glittering. “I wanted you to remain warm and cozy in your chamber, and dress at your leisure. I did not want you to bother with mundane things.”

Chrystobel’s heart was swelling with adoration at his thoughtfulness. In fact, it was swelling with adoration for him. “You are very kind to do that,” she said, but she soon sobered as thoughts of the kitchen came to mind. “Were you told that the cook was killed yesterday? She took a tumble down a flight of stairs.”

Keller nodded. “I was told,” he said. “I saw the stairs, too. No one ever mentioned there was a concealed passage that led from the kitchen to the gorge.”

Chrystobel nodded. “Indeed there is,” she said. “It is meant to be used if the castle is ever compromised. I am sorry I neglected to tell you about it. It simply never crossed my mind.”

He understood. “Are there any other passages I should know about?”

She shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “The only points of entry or exit at Nether are the gatehouse, the postern gate, and the passageway. There is nothing else.”

He believed her and, not wanting to linger on the negative note of the cook’s death, he simply smiled at her and began to remove his gloves.

“That is a good thing,” he said. “A castle with too many holes in it is no castle at all. We may as well not have walls if that is the case.”

Chrystobel was back to smiling again, giving him a flirtatious little expression as she turned away and headed back over to the bed where she had been mending a rip on the hood of a cloak. Keller grinned at the come-hither countenance on her face then scowled dramatically when he glanced at Izlyn and the girl made a silly face at him. He could hardly believe these were the same two women he had met only three days ago. When fear and terror were removed, it was remarkable how quickly the human soul healed. As he set his gloves aside, his gaze fell on his saddlebags, still where he left them on the big wooden trunk. Next to the bags was the pile of scarves and perfume he’d neglected to give his wife. They were still as he had left them.

“Before I forget,” he said, moving over to the pile, “there were more gifts I brought back from town yesterday, but I don’t suppose you’d care to see them.”

Chrystobel came running, needle and thread still in hand from where she had been mending the cloak. “Of course I want to see them!” she begged. “May I? Please?”

Keller eyed her hopeful face as it was joined by a second hopeful face. Izlyn didn’t know about the gifts, or the necklaces, but because her sister was excited, she was excited, too. Keller found himself looking at two very eager ladies. He couldn’t help but laugh.