Chapter Fifteen #2
Keller thought on that. There was that name again – Gwynwynwyn.
He’d heard it from the merchant in Machynlleth.
Moreover, he’d heard it from Trevyn when the man listed an ally of Gryffyn.
I find it strange that they happened upon you at that particular point in time.
Wasn’t that what Gart had said? It was indeed strange, too strange.
Was it possible that Gryffyn had been following his movements outside of Nether and was behind the attack?
If that was true, then it meant Nether was being watched by Gryffyn and whoever he had managed to ally with.
Perhaps they were being watched even now. It was an uneasy realization.
“Your father said that he is a friend of Gryffyn’s,” he said quietly.
She nodded as she placed the second quick stitch. “He is,” she concurred. “In fact, he somewhat courted me before my father arranged for a marriage with you.”
Keller was startled by the bolts of jealousy that rocketed through his body at that knowledge.
The sensations were violent and harsh. But, in the same breath, he shouldn’t have been surprised by a courtship towards Chrystobel.
She was a beautiful woman and, in truth, should have known many suitors before Keller came along.
He found that he wanted to ask her many questions about ap Gwynwynwyn, and the courtship, but he kept his mouth shut as Chrystobel finished putting the remaining stitches in Aimery’s leg.
He didn’t want the young knight hearing what would undoubtedly be a private conversation, so he bided his time until Aimery limped out of the chamber and down the stairs.
Closing the chamber door and bolting it as he heard the knight’s footfalls fade away, he turned to watch his wife as she put away her sewing kit.
Then his gaze trailed to the saddlebags, laying on a big wooden chest over to his right, and thought on all of the wonderful things he’d brought Chrystobel.
The storm outside caught his attention as lightning flashed and he was coming to think that this small, warm chamber was a much better place to be than the stuffy hall across the bailey.
It was much more private. Aye, it was a better place, indeed.
“Tell me about Colvyn ap Gwynwynwyn,” he said as he began to remove his gloves. “So he courted you, did he?”
Chrystobel looked up from her sewing kit.
“Aye,” she replied. “It was really only over the course of the past few months. He would send me little gifts such as a leather pouch filled with flower petals or a polished stone he had found and thought was rather pretty. Colvyn is a nice man, but he is rather grim and unexciting. I had no interest in him.”
Keller removed his helm, setting it down next to the door. “Then you harbor no feelings for the man?” he asked. “Our marriage did not interrupt a budding love with ap Gwynwynwyn?”
She looked at him, disgusted. “Never!” she hissed. “Colvyn is not someone I could have feelings for, not in the least.”
Keller felt markedly better to hear that. In fact, the declaration gave him an abundance of courage. “Am I someone you could have feelings for?” he asked softly.
Chrystobel appeared surprised by the question, but just as quickly, a bashful smile spread across her lips and she lowered her gaze so that he could not see her hot cheeks. Keller saw them, anyway.
“Mayhap,” she said coyly. “I have hardly known you enough to know for sure.”
That was true, but Keller was enchanted by her brightly blushing cheeks. “But you could at least have an inkling as to whether or not I am worthy.”
Chrystobel wouldn’t look at him. “It is too soon, I tell you.”
Keller grinned. “I believe you are someone I could have feelings for,” he said softly. “In fact, I am sure of it.”
Her head shot up, her dark eyes wide on him.
She thought on the poem he’d had Izlyn write, one that spoke of new beginnings.
Could it be true? Could he really have feelings for her?
Gazing into his dusky blue eyes, she could see the sincerity and hope in them.
She could see the man’s naked optimism for something he very much wanted to happen.
The seed was there. She could feel it. It was a seed that had been planted over the course of the past couple of days, against all odds or expectations. Now, the seed needed to be nurtured.
“I’ve not yet thanked you for the poem you told Izlyn to write for me,” she said softly. “It is the most beautiful poem I have ever read.”
He smiled modestly. “I had hoped you would like it,” he said.
Then, his gaze grew intense. “Chrystobel, I must again extend my deepest apologies for failing to keep my word to you last night. Please know that it was not intentional. I would never intentionally break my word to you. You are my wife and by that station alone you will always have my greatest respect. I would never intentionally do anything to harm or anger you. What I said in the poem was true. In you, I see the magic of a new beginning for us both.”
Chrystobel was caught up in the sweet lure of his statement. It was a thrilling and fulfilling thought, and the hurt and anger she had felt earlier in the day vanished like a puff of smoke. She couldn’t have remembered it if she tried.
“I… I think I do, too,” she said quietly. “Keller, I should not have dismissed you so harshly when you tried to explain what had happened. My sister finally told me. I should have guessed it was the cider that put you to sleep before you could return. I should not have assumed the worst.”
Keller rolled his eyes. “That damnable cider,” he grunted. “I have never in my life ingested anything so utterly devilish. I will never touch that drink again.”
Chrystobel grinned at his dramatic statement. “My father brought it out for only special occasions,” she said. “Otherwise, it has been left in stores to continue fermenting. I should have warned you.”
Keller shook his head as if shaking off bad memories of the potent drink. “I think we should give it to every enemy of Nether,” he said. “That will take care of them quickly enough.”
Chrystobel laughed softly, sobering as she met his glimmering gaze. “I am very sorry I became angry with you,” she said quietly. “It was unkind of me.”
Keller’s gaze lingered on her a moment before reaching over for his saddlebags. “You should not have apologized so quickly,” he said. “I have brought you gifts and now you have taken away my reason to give them to you. I was going to buy your forgiveness.”
Chrystobel laughed but she was also very interested. “Gifts?” she repeated, quickly playing his game. “Very well, then. I have not forgiven you, you abominable man. Now, may I have my gifts?”
He grinned, enjoying her sense of humor. “Do you have a mirror?”
Chrystobel nodded, moving for her dressing table and producing a polished bronze mirror. “It belonged to my mother,” she said. “Why do you need it?”
His gaze was intense upon her. “I do not need it at all,” he said softly. “But you will. Close your eyes.”
Chrystobel wanted to question him further but did as she was told.
Dutifully closing her eyes, she stood still, ears attuned, as she listened to Keller move about.
She could hear him rummaging through something, his big boots moving softly over the wooden floor.
She heard him as he moved closer to her and then there was something against her neck, cold and hard, and she was very eager to open her eyes and look at it.
She was so eager than she started bouncing around and she heard Keller sigh.
“If you do not hold still, I will never close this hook and you will never get to see it,” he scolded gently.
Chrystobel came to a halt but it was difficult for her. She was grinning with excitement. Behind her, Keller finished the clasp and grinned.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
Chrystobel did. Looking into the mirror, the first thing she saw was the magnificent pearl and emerald necklace, and her eyes widened as a hand flew up to touch the magnificent piece. The smile vanished from her face.
“God’s Bones,” she exclaimed softly. “For me? Truly?”
He came around so he could see her from the front. The emerald necklace coupled with the dark green surcoat she wore was absolutely stunning. He smiled with satisfaction.
“Truly,” he said quietly. “Do you like it?”
Chrystobel was still staring at it in the mirror, her fingers moving gently along the pearls. “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she breathed with great sincerity. “Oh, Keller… for me? Truly?”
He laughed softly. “Indeed, it is for you.”
Chrystobel simply stared at it, the exquisite workmanship and beauty of it. She was clearly overwhelmed. “To thank you seems so inadequate,” she said after a moment. “I wish there was a greater word for my gratitude.”
He turned away and went back to his saddle bags, pulling out all of the things he had brought for her. Scarves and jewelry spilled forth along with a corked gourd and an alabaster phial.
“There is more,” he said, holding aloft the garnet necklace and the great three-strand necklace. “I purchased these, also. I thought mayhap to give the garnets to Izlyn. Do you think she will like them?”
Chrystobel looked at him in awe. “You… you would give it to her?”
He nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Unless you think she will not like it. If that is the case, then I will have to look elsewhere for a present for her.”
Chrystobel just stared at him a moment. Then, she looked at the necklaces and her eyes filled with tears. Keller was immediately concerned.
“What is the matter?” he demanded gently, like a man who is fearful of a social misstep. “Did I say something? Why are you…?”