He opened his eyes and sighed contentedly, his head against her shoulder as he thought on her question.
“My family is very wealthy,” he said quietly. “We are originally from Tours, having come to England in the second wave right after William of Normandy came ashore. I have an ancestor who distinguished himself at the Battle of Hastings and, consequently, was sent to Leicester in the name of the new king. My family has held the title High Sheriff of Leicester for over one hundred years, the station of which my father now holds. It will pass to me when he dies. As for the family’s wealth, it is rooted in livestock and yellow cheese. We produce and sell cheese all over England and France, and we have massive livestock holdings. I am the oldest of four children, and the only male, so everything will go to me. Therefore, you may have whatever you wish, whenever you wish. If you ask for the stars, I would be happy to negotiate a price for them.”
Chrystobel was truly astonished. “Yet you accepted a contract marriage for a Welshwoman who was not of your station?”
He looked at her. “You are of my station,” he said. “Nether is quite acceptable, as are you. Or haven’t you yet realized that I am rather pleased with this marriage?”
Chrystobel wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol fueling his words or if he truly meant them. “But, truly, it seems as if you could have commanded a much finer….”
He cut her off, his manner growing agitated. “I do not want a finer woman,” he snapped. “I was once betrothed to a very fine woman, a widow of a great and powerful knight, but she was cold and terrible, no matter what I did. I tried to woo her. God knows, I tried. And those two children she had, too. I managed to woo them quite nicely and the girl and I were good friends. But the woman… the harder I tried, the more she pushed me away. It was an exercise in utter futility. And then, do you know what happened? Her husband was not dead after all. He returned, took her and the children away, and left me with empty hands and broken dreams. And that was the end of it.”
He was speaking rather animatedly, chattering even, but Chrystobel didn’t miss the gist of his words. It began to occur to her now why the man had walled himself up, why he seemed so guarded. At least, he had seemed guarded until now. He’d had his heart broken. She began to feel very sorry for the man.
“That is a terrible story,” she said softly, looking upon him with pity. “I cannot imagine how it must have hurt to have someone you love taken away from you.”
He looked at her as if startled by the statement. “I did not love her,” he clarified. “She was lovely and high born, and she had moments of kindness, but I did not love her. The unfortunate part is that I allowed myself to get close to the children. When they left… well, that did pain me, just a little.”
Chrystobel felt a great deal of sympathy for him. Timidly, her hands found their way onto his big arm as it embraced her. She patted him gently.
“I am sorry for you,” she said gently. “I promise that I will never leave you. I have no husband to come back from the dead, and there are no children to take away.”
He looked at her a moment and the emotions across his face seemed to ripple. There was sadness there, and anger, and resignation. There was an entire gambit of emotion and he suddenly stood up, nearly dumping her onto the floor. Off balance by his swift movement, Chrystobel toppled into the nearest chair.
“Nay, you will not leave me, but there are all manner of terrible things that have happened here at Nether,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “Your brother beat you silly and you would not tell me who did such terrible things to you. When I asked you, you lied to me repeatedly. And this same bastard brother has abused your sister so much that the child will probably never speak because that whoreskin scared the speech right out of her. And your father – by God’s Bloody Rood, do you know what he told me? He allowed your brother to abuse you all because he promised his wife he would never discipline him. Is this really true? Because if that is the case and your mother granted your brother privilege to do whatever he pleased, then I fear your mother was a fool of a woman and she took your father right down with her. How do you think I felt seeing the bruises on your face, knowing it was your brother’s doing but being helpless to protect you because you would not trust me? It was as horrible as that shrew of a woman I was betrothed to who scorned me as if I was the lowest form of life. She treated the servants better than she treated me. And now I come here, find a wife I could never have imagined, and it scares me to death to realize that I feel something for you. I feel….”
He suddenly stopped himself, looking at the expression on Chrystobel’s face. The look of shock, hope, and of deep sadness stopped him bluntly and Keller began to realize that he had let his emotions run rampant, spouting out of his mouth without a dam to stop them. He was too damn drunk to realize he was saying things he shouldn’t. He gazed back at her with more horror and regret than he had ever felt in his life.
“Oh… Chrystobel,” he breathed. “I did not mean what I said… please forgive me… I did not mean any of it. I do not know why I said anything at all except… except… except that I cared for a woman and children once, much like you and your sister, and it ended badly. If this ended badly, I am not entirely sure I would recover.”
Chrystobel was looking at him with the unguarded depths of sympathy. It came pouring out of her; her eyes, her expression… everything. Reaching out, she grasped his big hand.
“It will not end,” she promised softly. “I understand you have been hurt, but I promise I will do all in my power not to hurt you, ever. I… I am sorry I lied to you about Gryffyn, truly, but I did not know you. You were an outsider and what he did… it was so shameful. It was such a terrible thing to admit, even to you.”
Keller could feel her hand on his, her warm fingers caressing him, and he wanted so badly to give in to the comfort. Was it possible that she was able to give him comfort, to show him affection? He’d never known such a thing in his entire life. Was it really possible that this glorious creature could find it within her heart to tolerate him? Or, perhaps someday… more than tolerate? It was a terrifying, hopeful thought.
Looking into her beautiful face, he suddenly felt very embarrassed and very self-conscious about his outburst. He felt like a fool. Pulling away from her grasp, he headed for the door.
“I must go,” he muttered. “I must see to my guests.”
Chrystobel ran after him, grabbing him by the arm to stop him from leaving. “Wait,” she said. “Please do not leave.”