As Chrystobel carefully rolled up an ironed tunic, her thoughts lingered on Keller. Surely a sweeter, more attentive man had never existed. She was sure of it, in fact. He was always thinking of her first, bringing her a few late-fall posies or a pretty bird feather he had managed to come across. Since their rather rough beginning, there had been no more misunderstandings or harsh words between them, and they had settled into a symbiotic relationship as man and wife. Every night, Keller would make love to her and every morning, he would kiss her awake and do more of the same. He had become very confident in his role as husband and she swore she hadn’t seen him nervously pop his knuckles in weeks. That bad habit seemed to have faded away the more comfortable he became with his wife.
As Chrystobel tucked away the rolled tunic into the large wardrobe that had once belonged to her father, her thoughts were lingering more heavily on Keller and she decided to go downstairs and visit him. It seemed that they were never far away from each other and she left their warm, comfortable chamber and headed down the steps to the entry level below.
As soon as she hit the landing, she could hear voices in the small hall. There were several men in the room, standing around the table that Keller was seated at. He had parchment in front of him and a quill in hand, speaking to one of the shepherds about a young flock that was off to the east. The flocks were heading into winter and their wooly coats were filling in, and Keller was curious about the amount of wool each sheep would produce, but his conversation ended the moment he saw Chrystobel standing in the doorway. At that moment, he had eyes only for her.
He extended a hand to her, inviting her in, and Chrystobel smiled brightly as she entered the room, reaching out to take his offered hand. Keller excused the men standing around him, telling them to go to the kitchens for food, and they eagerly obeyed. Once the men quit the keep and it was just the two of them remaining, Keller reached up and pulled Chrystobel onto his lap.
His big arms went around her, his face buried in her neck. He inhaled deeply, smelling her sweet, musky scent. He’d come to depend on that scent, keeping him a sane and happy man. These past few weeks with her were just how he always imagined a contented relationship would be, only there was more to it. Somehow in the past several days, he realized that he loved her. He hadn’t told her yet, of course, for things like love and emotion were treacherous waters, indeed. He hoped to summon the courage to tell her soon, but until then, he was content simply to feel and breathe her.
“How long has it been since I last saw you?” he whispered.
Chrystobel smiled, her arms around his head and shoulders. “Hours,” she said dramatically. “Mayhap even days.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes it seems like that,” he said, pulling his face from her flesh and gazing at her. “What have you been doing?”
She toyed with his dark hair. “Finishing the last of your wash,” she said. “I spied George and Aimery out in my garden chasing a rabbit for Izlyn.”
Keller grunted. “Those two are supposed to be tending to the collection of horses I have confiscated from your brother,” he said. “I do not intend to keep all of them and would like an inventory and surmised value. And you say they are chasing a rabbit?”
Chrystobel shook her head at him. “Do not become angry,” she said. “It is for Izlyn, after all. I suppose she could always go find Gart and force him to chase the rabbit for her.”
This time, Keller shook his head. “Forbes has more important things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Like manage the battlements,” he said, feigning sternness as he gently pinched her nose. “Rhys is in the gatehouse and William is sleeping because he had night duty.”
She grinned at him, letting him know that she had been jesting, but quickly sobered. “How long are Gart and Rhys planning to remain here?” she asked. “Of course, Izlyn will be crushed when Gart leaves. She says she is going to marry him.”
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.”