Dark Deceptions

by Christi Caldwell

  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…?”

  Chrystobel cut him off, shaking her head. Before he could press her, she threw herself at him, arms around his neck, smacking him in the throat even through his hauberk. Off-guard but quite thrilled by the unexpected gesture, he did the only thing he could do. He put his arms around her and held her next to his rain-dampened body. She was soft and sweet and alluring.

  “Thank you,” she whispered tightly, squeezing his neck so tightly that she would have strangled him were it not for the hauberk creating a barrier. “You are so kind to bring me gifts, but to bring gifts for Izlyn as well… what a generous man you are. Izzie will be thrilled.”

  Keller was sorely wishing at that moment that he was not wearing his armor. He wanted to feel his wife against him in the worst way. His wife. It still didn’t seem real because it was in name only. He’d had yet to progress beyond the social stage and he very much wanted to. As the storm pounded outside, lighting up the sky every so often, he thought that now would be a good time for them to become husband and wife in every sense of the word. Releasing Chrystobel enough so that he could look her in the eye, he cupped her face with his enormous hands and gently slanted his mouth over hers.

  Chrystobel didn’t resist Keller’s kiss. In fact, she had anticipated it, hoped for it, and now that he was upon her, she collapsed against him, her tender lips suckling his. It was warm and wonderful, and being swallowed by his big arms was nothing short of delightful. When he moved to kiss her more deeply, she didn’t resist. She responded readily.

  When his tongue snaked into her mouth, timidly, she simply allowed herself to experience it. She’d never been kissed like this, not ever, and there was something very naughty and decadent about it. His kisses grew more forceful and she let him have his way, experiencing every sensation with the greatest of pleasure. Her arms went around his neck to hold him fast, hold him against her, and she was startled when he suddenly bent over and swept her into his arms. Big, strong, powerful arms cradled her without effort as he carried her over to the bed and deposited her gently on the mattress.

  It began to occur to Chrystobel what was about to happen. The moment was upon them, the moment that should have occurred on the day they married but didn’t. Instead of being fearful, she was actually quite curious. She gazed up at Keller expectantly only to see that he was removing his tunic and wet mail, so she thought that perhaps she should remove her clothes also. Wasn’t that what one did when consummating a marriage? Although no one had ever really spoken to her about the ways between men and women, at least not seriously, she had heard servants speak on it more than once. Naked flesh against naked flesh, they had said. A man’s male member between a woman’s legs, causing babies to be born. Aye, she knew all of that. It was time to create a baby, a son for Keller, so she sat up on the mattress and reached behind her, unfastening the stays of the surcoat.

  As she stood up to remove it, Keller was already half-undressed. His mail hauberk and tunic had come off, leaving him naked from the waist up. Silently, he reached out to help Chrystobel by lifting her surcoat over her head, leaving her clad only in her shift and stockings. He tossed back the coverlet on the bed and Chrystobel removed her shoes and stockings, completely ignorant of the fact that this was supposed to be an intimate and pleasant experience as much as it was an experience to create a child. No one had ever told her it was supposed to be pleasurable. Therefore, she was looking at it all rather logically. She climbed into the bed, gazing up at him with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.

  “Are we to create a child now?” she asked rather frankly. “If that is the case, then you will have to tell me what to do. I do not know that much about it other than what the servants have told me.”

  Keller gazed down at her, a smile playing on his lips. “You are already doing all you need to do,” he told her. “Getting the woman into the bed is the most difficult part.”

  She cocked her head curiously. “It is?” she asked, confused. “It is simply a matter of climbing onto the mattress. I fail to see what is so difficult.”

  Keller scratched his head in a marginally awkward gesture. “It was a jest,” he muttered. “Not to worry. I shall take over from here.”

  “You will let me know if I need to do anything.”

  “I’ll be sure to.”

  With that, Keller sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to her, and pulled off his big boots. Then, he unfastened his breeches and swiftly pulled them off. He pulled the coverlet up and over him as he slid into the bed, covering himself up to the chest. Chrystobel was still sitting next to him, realizing that he was now completely nude beneath the covers and she was not. Pulling the shift up over her head, she tossed it to the floor whilst pulling the coverlet up to her neck as she lay down beside Keller.

  So they lay there, side by side, as she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for him to make the first move. Keller, who had never made love to a woman that he hadn’t paid for the privilege, rolled onto his side so he could look at her. Every woman he had bedded had taken the aggressive role and he’d simply gone along for the ride. Given that Chrystobel had never done this before, he was going to have to be the aggressor. He hoped he didn’t scare the woman off with his bumbling attempts.

  Leaning over, he kissed her naked shoulder, the only thing that was peering out from the top of the coverlet other than her head. Her skin was warm and soft, and she smelled faintly sweet. Then, a big hand snaked under the covers and cupped her left breast, feeling her jump with surprise at his action. Her breast was warm and soft, too, and he was instantly and madly aroused as he fondled her. From one breast to the other, he squeezed gently and caressed, pinching her nipples and feeling her quiver in response. It excited him so much that he buried his head beneath the coverlet, which was still pulled up to her neck, and began suckling her nipples.

  His hot, wet mouth on her breasts caused Chrystobel to gasp, first in shoc
k but then in pleasure. She could never have imagined a sensation like this, something that made her entire body tremble and liquid heat to race through her limbs. His mouth was aggressive, moving from breast to breast as his hand kneaded the tender flesh of her belly and upper thighs. His roving hand seemed to be everywhere as he nursed against her breasts which, with her limited knowledge, were only used to nourish babies, but Keller was nursing against them hungrily for his own needs. It was wanton and exciting.

  As he continued to suckle her breasts, his roving hand moved to the junction between her legs, pulling her left leg towards him and parting her thighs. A big finger began to stroke the outside of her Venus mound and Chrystobel actually had to put a hand over her mouth because she was startled, embarrassed, and aroused all at the same time. Her head was filled with muddled mists, fogging her brain until she couldn’t think a clear thought. All she could see to do was feel, to experience, as Keller grew bolder. Suddenly, the finger that had been stroking her was now inside her, invading her private folds, and she drew her knees up, gasping in response.

  Her hissing reaction was all Keller needed to roll is big body on top of hers, his head coming out from beneath the coverlet and his mouth fusing to hers. He kissed her furiously, his tongue forcing her teeth apart as it ravaged her. The finger inside her body, stroking her, was joined by a second finger, thrusting into her, making her wet and heated, before abruptly withdrawing. Keller was still kissing her aggressively when he placed his manhood against her swollen, wet folds and thrust into her virginal body.

  It was a sharp and startling action, and Chrystobel tore her mouth away from his, gasping with the pleasure-pain of it. There was a slight stinging sensation but nothing more as he thrust again, seating himself fully into her tender, quivering body. He was a big man, with a very big member, and Chrystobel squirmed beneath him, unaccustomed to a man’s body inside of hers. But Keller’s senses were heightened, his sense of passion and lust boiling over, and as Chrystobel gasped and squirmed, he began the ancient primal rhythm of mating.

  His thrusts were big and painful at first. Unaccustomed as she was, Chrystobel grunted with every thrust, struggling not to gasp aloud at the sensual intrusion. Keller’s lips had moved to her neck, her shoulders again, nibbling on her flesh and causing bolts of excitement to race down her limbs. But the more he thrust, the more her body relaxed, and before she realized it, she was coming to respond to him.

  Her hands reached for him, timidly, feeling the naked flesh of his body for the first time. He was warm with a fine dark mat of hair that covered his arms and chest. She liked it very much. But as she moved to touch him, she ended up touching herself as well, which brought about an unexpected result. Her hand brushed against her left nipple, which was highly sensitive after Keller’s attention, and the moment she touched herself she could feel a wild explosion in her loins that caused her entire body to seize. Her limbs stiffened as ripple after pleasurable ripple radiated upwards from between her legs where Keller was impaling her on his manhood repeatedly. It was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life, causing her eyes to roll back in her head and her breathing to come in shrieking gasps. The more Keller pounded into her, the more heightened the exquisite sensation.

  It seemed as if it went on forever when, in fact, it was only a few seconds because the moment Keller realized that she had found her release, there was nothing to hold back his own pleasure. Feeling her body draw at him, throb around him, brought about the greatest climax he had ever experienced. He spilled himself deep into her body, feeling his hot seed as it made her very slick and very wet. He liked the feel of what he had put inside her. In fact, he loved the feel of her altogether. His wife. It was the sweetest thing he had ever known.

  When the tremors faded away and Keller lay on top of Chrystobel, his head on her breasts, it took very little time for the exhausted and satisfied knight to pass out from sheer contentment. Chrystobel realized it when he began snoring softly, his arms wrapped so tightly around her torso that when she tried to move, in his sleep, his hold on her tightened.

  Grinning when she realized he wasn’t going to let her go, Chrystobel put her arms around the man’s head and shoulders, holding him close against her body and thinking that of all the things she had assumed about coupling, it had been nothing close to the reality of it. The reality had been passion and warmth beyond anything she could have imagined, all stemming from an English knight she had been forced to marry. Two days ago, she had been certain her life, such as it was, was about to take a turn for the worse. That fear couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  I see the magic of a new beginning with you.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was very late when Gart cleared the hall, making sure all of his men had found a place to sleep somewhere inside where it was warm. Rhys had volunteered to take the night watch, mounting the battlements with their spectacular views of the storm-whipped countryside, and William went with him. The Ashby-Kidd twins headed off to sleep off too much ale, leaving Gart the task of buttoning up the hall and keep for the night.

  Keller had retired with his wife earlier in the evening and Gart knew he wouldn’t be seeing the man until morning. Not that he blamed him. Men with new wives often disappeared from time to time to seek out privacy with their ladies. As Gart strolled across the bailey, rain dripping off his lashes from the storm that was still pounding, he found his gaze wandering off towards the kitchen.

  The cook had been killed earlier that day, accidently falling down a flight of stairs that were carved into the bedrock and led to a secret entrance into the castle from the gorge surrounding it. The old woman had been found at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck, but Gart was fairly convinced that the woman’s neck had been broken before she fell because he was certain he saw finger marks on her flesh.

  By the time Keller, Rhys, and the other knights had returned, the finger marks were less visible and Rhys wasn’t sure he saw what Gart did. Keller had already retired by that time and hadn’t been aware of the woman’s death as far as Gart knew, unless Keller’s wife told him, but such things weren’t exactly pillow talk for newlyweds. Therefore, it was left to Gart to be suspicious of the circumstances. Something just didn’t sit right with him about it and that, in turn, made him suspicious of Nether in general. Something evil was afoot. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he could feel it.

  Pushing thoughts of the dead cook out of his mind, he took the steps to the keep entry two at a time, eager to get out of the rain. Once inside the keep, it was dark and cold and silent for the most part, the only sound being the rain outside the door. As he headed for the stairs that would take him to the top floor where a warm bed await him, he heard sniffles coming from the small hall directly in front of him.

  Curious, Gart followed the sounds. The smaller hall was dark, with a cold and useless hearth. In the darkness he could hear more sniffling and he stepped into the room, eventually spying Izlyn sitting at the end of the small feasting table. She had her arms all wrapped up around her small body, shivering as she sniffled. Curious, and somewhat concerned, Gart moved in her direction.

  “My lady?” he asked softly. “Is something amiss?”

  Izlyn jumped at the sound of his voice, her dark eyes wide with fright. Gart put up his hands to ease her, seeing that he had succeeded in frightening her.

  “I am sorry to startle you,” he said quietly. “Why are you weeping? Why aren’t you in bed?”

  Izlyn looked at him, her lip moving into a pout. She looked both unhappy and angry at the same time. Gart knew from Keller that the girl was mute, so he wasn’t sure how to communicate with her any more than what he was already doing. It became a staring game until he finally held a hand out to her.

  “May I escort you to your chamber, my lady?” he asked politely. “It is growing late and you should be asleep.”

  Izlyn hesitantly unwound her arms from around her body and she looked rather uncertain about his question.
Finally, she shook her head.

  “Why not?” Gart asked. “Aren’t you weary?”

  Izlyn nodded. Then, she slipped off the bench she had been sitting on and made her way to the darkened hearth. Gart stood a few feet away, watching her as she pulled a piece of kindling out of the woodbox. Taking the stick, she began to scratch around in the soot that was gathered in front of the hearth. Gart thought she might be drawing pictures, which seemed rather odd, but she suddenly stopped scratching and beckoned him closer. Gart took a few steps towards the hearth, looking to the soot because she was pointing insistently at it.

  There was writing in the ashes. Bending over, he peered closer to the letters. He was frankly surprised that she could write. Being a woman, and being mute, the odds that she could communicate in any fashion were against her, but evidently she was educated. He squinted at the writing and realized it was in a language he could not read, more than likely Welsh.

  “I am sorry,” he said, looking at her. “I cannot read this.”

  Izlyn fell to her knees beside the soot and wiped it smooth. Then, she took a piece of kindling again and scratched out another message. This time, Gart could read it.

  The door is locked.

  After reading it, he looked at her. “What door?”

  Izlyn smoothed out the ashes again and scratched another message as Gart stood over her shoulder and watched.

  My chamber.

  “Your chamber is locked?” he asked. “Who would lock it? Come with me and I will open the door. I shall kick it down if I have to.”

  Izlyn shook her head frantically, reaching up to tug on the knee of his breeches before he could get away. Gart paused, watching, as she scratched out another message.

  My sister and Sir Keller are inside.

  Gart understood quite a bit at that moment. “I see,” he said. No, it wouldn’t do to break down the door at all. He might get flogged if he did. Gart cleared his throat softly. “Is there another place you can sleep? Surely there is another bed for you.”