Page 33 of The Earl

Just say it. Say it!

“I do not want to marry Colin MacGregor.”

That was not quite it.

“So you came to escape an unwanted marriage?” he asked, anger flickering across his expression.

Nay! Ugh, he was maddening.

“I came because . . .”

Say it, Cait. You may never have another chance.

“I came because I never stopped . . .”

Loving you. Loving you. You told him already, in the buttery. Just say it again.

“I did not stop writing because I did not care.” Coward. “Or because I did not want for you to write back. Those letters were everything, are everything, to me.”

Then he did something she didn’t expect. Conrad reached for her, pulling her against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and Cait never, ever wanted him to let go.

“You stopped writing because you cared more for me than you did yourself.”

He said it so quietly, Cait had to strain to hear each word.

It was true, of course. She’d hated herself for something that people kept telling her was not her fault. Conrad. Her new friends. They’d all told her she was not to blame, but in her heart she didn’t believe it. Even now, sitting with Conrad and admitting this to him, she still didn’t believe it.

She looked up, pulling away just enough to see his face.

In answer to the silent questions in her eyes—Did he understand? Did he forgive her?—Conrad leaned down and kissed her.

But this was unlike their first kiss, so soft and gentle it was hard to believe it was the same man. She opened for him as his tongue demanded entry, but even then it coaxed softly, moving in perfect rhythm with his lips as they glided over hers.

The long, slow kiss she wished would never end eventually did, Conrad watching her like she was a peregrine on his wrist, about to fly away.

Forgive me. Forgive me. Love me the way you once did.

He kissed her forehead and held her once more, answering her in his own way. She wasn’t sure exactly what this meant, and surely there was more that needed to be discussed, but being in his arms right now reminded Cait of why she’d first fallen in love with him so many years ago.

He was exactly who she wanted to be. Strong. Assured. And there was hope for them yet. She loved him still, had never stopped.

And I think he still loves me too.