Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(195)

Keller snorted rudely. “She will have to set her sights on someone else,” he said. “Forbes is not the marrying kind.”

“Why not?”

“Because his wife is whatever directive David de Lohr dictates,” he said frankly. “Gart lives and breathes de Lohr blue. He will never let anything distract him from that.”

Chrystobel thought on that. “It is a sad state, then,” she said. “He seems as if he would make some lady a fine husband.”

Keller shrugged. “Mayhap,” he said. “But tell Izzie to focus her attentions elsewhere. Gart Forbes is not meant for such a sweet and gentle soul.”

“That is a kind way of saying she is not even a consideration.”

“Well, she is not.”

Chrystobel laughed softly. “What about George or Aimery?”

Keller rolled his eyes and stood up. “Those two?” he said, making a face to convey his distaste. “I suspect they would only marry her for the money and if that was truly the case, I would have to kill them, so put those two out of your mind as a husband for your sister. She is only twelve years old, for Christ’s sake – she does not need a husband for another six years at least.”

Chrystobel eyed him, teasing him. “It will be your duty to find her one.”

Keller nodded rather comically, resigned to the inevitable. “They shall all have to pass tests of my choosing before I will even consider them.”

“What kinds of tests?”

He shrugged. “Seeing how fast they can run with a raging bull chasing them,” he said, pretending to be thoughtful. “Seeing how well they can fend off six bulky knights and six equally big broadswords. Gart will help me with that test, of course. Mayhap I shall see if they can beat me in a fist fight with one of their arms tied behind their back. You know, tests.”

Chrystobel was laughing by the time he was finished. “That is terrible!” she exclaimed softly. “She will never find a husband that way.”

He smirked at her, pulling her close for a sweet kiss. “It will certainly narrow the field,” he said. “Only the worthy will survive.”

Chrystobel giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Either the very worthy or the very persistent,” she said. “But none of this answers my original question. How long are Gart and Rhys going to stay?”

Keller didn’t particularly want to talk about his knights with Chrystobel in his arms. He could think of much better things to talk about but he dutifully answered her. “When we returned from the ambush at the church those weeks ago, you will recall that I sent out several missives, one of which was to William Marshal,” he said. “I informed him of my first few days at Nether and told him that, for the time being, it is wise to keep Rhys and Gart here with me. The two attacks against me could be local rebels or it could be something bigger. We simply do not know, so I would rather err on the side of caution and keep Rhys and Gart at Nether until we can determine if there will be more hostilities. The Marshal will inform de Lohr that I intend to keep his knights.”

“Is William Marshal de Lohr’s liege?”

“William Marshal is everyone’s liege.”

Chrystobel thought on the man who seemed to control every fighting man in England, the very man who had brokered her marriage. She realized that she owed him everything.

“When do you think William Marshal will send his reply to you?” she asked.

“It could be months.”

It seemed like a very long time to wait for an answer, but Chrystobel supposed the Marshal was a busy man and would get to it when he could. “What about those other missives you sent out to local warlords?” she asked. “Have any of them replied?”

Keller shrugged. “The missives I sent to my allies down around Pembroke have seen responses,” he said. “My old friends will be coming to Nether at some point to help me establish relationships with some of the local Welsh chieftains. As for those local chieftains, however, I have not had any responses. It has only been a couple of weeks, however, so I am not concerned. They will respond, eventually.”

She smiled faintly. “Do you think it would help if I went to call on the warlords personally?” she asked. “I know a few of them. I may be able to help you.”

It wasn’t a bad idea but he didn’t want to play up his marriage to a Welsh wife just yet. He wanted to see how the local chieftains would react to him and him alone, as the new lord of Nether.

“I appreciate your offer,” he said as he pulled her close once again. “I will certainly let you know should I decide to accept it.”

He kissed her again. The taste and smell of her filled him and he wrapped his big arms more tightly around her, kissing her deeply as she turned weak and pliable in his arms. He loved it when she went limp. It made him feel powerful and dominant. His kisses grew more forceful but they were interrupted when the entry door opened, slamming back on its hinges. Keller released his wife as Rhys entered the small hall.

The man was dressed in full armor, which was now required by anyone manning the gatehouse. But it wasn’t the fact that he was in full armor, it was the expression on his face. Before Keller could open his mouth, Rhys held out a big gloved hand. Within it was clutched a large piece of sealed parchment.

“A missive for you, Keller,” he said, his expression grim. “The messenger who delivered it said that Hen Domen Castle is under siege. They are requesting assistance.”