Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances

“What is that?”

Chrystobel felt terrible telling him such things, ashamed at her brother’s appalling behavior. “He admitted to being behind the attempt on your knight’s life,” she said. “From what I could gather, he meant the arrow for you.”

Keller wasn’t surprised to hear that. Rather than be angry about it, he thought the entire circumstance ridiculous. It was a coward of a man who stood in the shadows and directed others to do his deadly deeds only to fail at them.

“I am sure it was but, like a fool, he entrusted other fools to do what he should have done himself,” he said almost philosophically, glancing up at her to see her genuinely contrite expression. He felt rather sorry for her. “Do you know where your brother is now?”

She nodded. “He is in the storage vaults,” she said helpfully, relieved that he wasn’t taking her brother’s nasty behavior out on her. “There are many places to hide in there but only one way in or out. You will find the door to the stores on the level beneath this chamber, cut into the floor of the small feasting hall that my father sometimes uses.”

Keller nodded, absorbing the information, and turned to leave. Chrystobel, however, reached out to grasp his arm.

“Please,” she begged softly, blinking back tears. “He means what he says. When he discovers I have betrayed him, he will kill me.”

Keller put a big hand over her small one, feeling her warmth as it seared through his glove. For a moment, he was so caught up in her magnificent eyes that he almost forgot what he was going to say. Quickly, he regrouped.

“Nay, he will not,” he said quietly. “I will send my men up here to guard your chamber. No one will get past them, and once I catch your brother, he will understand the meaning of my wrath. I swear he will never be a threat to you or your family again, my lady. I will not betray your faith.”

Chrystobel believed every word. There was something about the man that was deeply sincere. She nodded her head.

“I believe you.”

He took her hand and, removing it from his arm, kissed it softly before letting it go. “Return to your chamber, now,” he instructed. “Bolt the door and do not open it for anyone but me or my knights. Is that clear?”

Chrystobel was still reeling from the kiss to her hand but managed to nod. “It is.”

He smiled faintly at her as he pointed to the door. “Go inside,” he told her. “I will not leave until I hear the bolt thrown.”

Chrystobel somehow managed to make it back into her chamber, dutifully locking the door as he had instructed. She leaned against the door, listening to his boot falls fade down the stairs, before looking at the hand he had kissed. She could still feel his lips against her flesh, a gesture that had made her heart race and her knees tremble. There was something overwhelmingly powerful about the man, something she had never before experienced. All she knew was that his presence was growing stronger by the minute.

She should have been rightfully nervous about trusting him to subdue her brother. She should have been terrified that all would not go as planned and that Keller would fail her in spite of his declaration. She knew what her brother was capable of. She had yet to know what Keller was capable of. Perhaps he would be weaker or less cunning than Gryffyn, but somehow, she didn’t think so. Keller de Poyer was anything but weak. She hoped that her brother had finally met his match.

Gazing down at her hand, the one Keller had kissed, she could only pray that she was right.





Chapter Seven





The process of rousting Gryffyn from the storage vaults hadn’t been an easy one.

Keller had taken all three of his knights and thirty of his men to accomplish the task. Entering the keep with his big numbers, he sent ten of his soldiers up to guard Chrystobel’s door while taking the rest with him to the storage vaults on the lower ground level of the keep.

It was dark and crowded in the vaults below and Keller decided the best method would be to drive the fox to the house, as it were, so he sent the knights down to begin the hunt. Gladly, William, George, and Aimery descended the ladders with their broadswords in hand as Keller stood at the top of the ladder with his soldiers. The knights began to beat on, tip over, or shake everything they came across, creating a huge racket. The game that Gryffyn was so intent on playing was now turning against him as the group of angry Englishmen intended to make sport of him. At least, that was the hope.

As dawn began to appear on the eastern horizon, turning the sky shades of purple and pink, Keller’s knights wrought havoc in the storage vaults of Nether. There were bales of cream-colored wool bound with rope that they plunged their broadswords into and barrels of barley that were opened and stirred with sharp weapons. There were a great deal of stores and the knights were methodical, starting at one corner of the room and moving forward in a wave so as to drive Gryffyn out of his hiding place and to the ladder where Keller was waiting for him.

This went on steadily for an hour until it became apparent that Gryffyn was not in the storage vault. When William was finished with the last barrel of apples, he finally appeared at the base of the ladder, gazing up at Keller at the top.

“He is not here,” he said, sighing with some exhaustion. “Are you sure this is where she said to look for him?”

Keller nodded. “Aye,” he said, a creeping sense of displeasure coming over him. “Are you sure there are no alcoves or hidden rooms he could be in?”

William looked around the darkened storage area as George and Aimery continued to poke around. “Nothing,” he said. “Mayhap he left before we got here.”

Keller lifted his dark eyebrows in resignation. “That is possible.”

“That is the only explanation unless she lied to you.”

Keller shook his head. “I do not think so,” he said. “I will, however, question her again while you go speak with the father. See what Trevyn knows about his son.”

William leaned on the ladder, looking up at him. “He knew nothing when we questioned him earlier,” he said. “I am not sure a few hours will make a difference in what he knows.”

“It might,” Keller said. “Mayhap the son has left Nether altogether. Ask the father if the man has any friends or allies around here that would take him in.”

Kathryn Le Veque, Christi Caldwell's books