Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances

“My brother would not permit it,” she said softly. “Gryffyn felt that any money spent should be on him, as the heir. He spent the money on expensive horses. You can find them in our stables. He was fond of big-boned war horses from Flanders even though he’d hardly ever ridden to battle. He liked to collect them.”

Keller’s brow furrowed. “War horses are extremely expensive,” he said. “How many does he have?”

“There are thirteen.”

Keller was shocked. “Thirteen chargers?”

She shrugged. “I am not exactly sure how many chargers he has, or rounceys, or palfreys,” she said. “I believe he has one Spanish Jennet.”

Keller was still fairly astonished. “Only wealthy men have collections such as that,” he said. “But with your brother gone and with the fact that I am now lord of Nether, his collection now belongs to me and I will duly inspect the animals on the morrow. But we are off the subject. If painting is what you like to do, then when we are in town making arrangements for your father’s mass, we will purchase paint supplies for you. Would you like that?”

Chrystobel nodded hesitantly. “Aye,” she said. “As I said, I’ve not painted in years, but I would like to.”

Keller stood up from his crouched position and collected the chair next to hers, sitting heavily. Lashing out a big boot, he propped his foot up on the wall next to the hearth and, as he did so, let out a big burp. There was just too much alcohol in his system for him to do much else at this point. As he nearly rattled the walls with his deep belch, Izlyn began to giggle. Keller craned his neck back to look at her.

“So you think that humorous, do you?” he asked. Then, he swallowed air and emitted a massive belch while speaking the words: “You silly wench, do you think this funny, too?”

Izlyn giggled uncontrollably and even Chrystobel laughed. Keller, grinning, did it again, releasing such a loud belch that he nearly vomited. “Is this what I must do in order to keep you two entertained?” he gasped in a normal tone.

Izlyn was squealing with laughter as Chrystobel stifled her laugher behind her hands. Keller started coughing because the gas had irritated his throat, but he was pleased that the women found it so amusing. It was the first time he’d ever seen them laugh out loud.

“If I do that again, I shall surely spray the contents of my stomach out all over this wall,” he said, grinning. “But mayhap I shall give another try later if you both find it so amusing.”

Chrystobel waved him off. “I am sure that is not necessary,” she said. “But we thank you for your humorous attempts.”

Keller’s gaze lingered on her. In fact, he couldn’t stop staring at her. “You are very beautiful,” he said softly.

It was a swift turn of subjects and he was looking at her with a rather seductive smirk on his face. Chrystobel’s smile turned from one of genuine happiness to one of modest flattery. “Thank you, my lord.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “You are not permitted to call me that,” he said. “You are only permitted to call me by my name. But I prefer to be addressed as ‘husband’. That’s what I am, you know. I am your husband.”

Still smiling, she cocked her head. “I know.”

“I do not feel like a husband, however.”

Her smiled faded. “Why not?”

He shrugged, leaning forward so that his elbows were resting on his knees. “Because I was married yesterday and I still have not come to know my wife as a husband is entitled,” he said, eyeing Izlyn as she lay on the bed. “Does she sleep in here with you always?”

Chrystobel knew precisely what he meant and struggled not to become embarrassed or defensive about it. “She does,” she replied quietly. “But… but my father’s chamber is across the hall and it is bigger than this one. I assumed that we would eventually share that one and that chamber has much more room.”

Keller stood up and held out a hand to her. “I would see it now.”

Chrystobel appeared somewhat stricken, eyeing her sister on the bed. “Now?” she repeated, taking his hand simply because it was almost directly I her face. “Can… can we at least not wait until Izzie has gone to sleep?”

Keller looked over at the girl, who was wide awake, watching them. “Why?” he asked. “She looks comfortable enough.”

Chrystobel stood up, still holding his hand, and glanced at her sister. “Because she will cry if she is left alone,” she said softly. “She is afraid of being alone.”

Keller accepted that explanation and promptly sat back down. “I see,” he said. When Chrystobel went to reclaim her seat, he tugged on her hand. “Not there. Sit with me.”

“With you?”

“On my lap.”

Somewhat shocked by the suggestion, but also thrilled by it, she went to him and he took her by the waist and pulled her down onto his big thighs. His big arms went around her slender torso as he rested his cheek against her arm, gazing up into her lovely face. Chrystobel could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“So you would like to go to Paris, would you?” he asked.

Chrystobel rather liked being held by his strong arms, even though she was sure it was only the alcohol that had loosened his tongue and his manner. She’s never seen the man so unguarded.

“I… I would like to see the city someday,” she said timidly. “But I know that it is far away and it is undoubtedly expensive to travel there. I am sure it would be too much trouble.”

Keller scowled. “It would not be too much trouble,” he said. “It is more than likely a few weeks’ journey, so it is not too far away. We will also stop in London for a few days so that you may see the sights and mayhap shop in some of their expensive shops.”

She looked at him with a measure of bewilderment. “But… but what would I buy?”

He shrugged. “Anything you wish,” he said. “You are my wife now and you shall never want for anything ever again. No matter how small or how large your desire, you may have it. I will see to it.”

Chrystobel was still looking at him with that same expression of bewilderment. “Large?” she repeated. “What could I want that would be large?”

He was enjoying her closeness. He turned his head slightly so that his nose was against her right arm. He could smell lavender.

“A summer home, a boat, a diamond and ruby necklace,” he murmured, his eyes closed as he inhaled the thoroughly alluring scent. “You can have anything you want.”

She was awed. “Anything?”

His eyes opened and he looked up at her. “Anything except another husband.”

Chrystobel giggled. “I think I shall keep the one I have,” she said. “But why would you buy me such riches? I do not need them.”

He closed his eyes again and smelled of her deeply, his arms tightening around her. “Need them or not, you shall have them,” he said. “If it is money you are worried about, then don’t. Nether is only a very small part of my fortune.”

“What do you mean?”

Kathryn Le Veque, Christi Caldwell's books