Page 49 of The Earl

Chapter 21

He knew it was Cait before the door fully opened.

Perhaps he was attuned to her movements after spending the last several days imagining what it would feel like to touch her.

To taste her.

To make Cait his, finally.

He’d effectively avoided a confrontation with her earlier. A chambermaid had escorted her from the hall just before Conrad left to speak with the men. Unfortunately, the same maid had returned, telling him “his lady” was in the chamber adjoining his.

A fact he could have happily gone without knowing.

“Conrad?” she asked, her feet softly padding on the floor.

He groaned, cowardly pulling the coverlet over his head.

“Do you think to avoid me?”

She pulled the cream coverlet down.

“Why would you think such a thing?”

Hands on her hips, the small but fierce Cait Kennaugh glared at him. The lone candle beside his canopied bed shone just enough light for him to see her face.

And her shift.

Though the arms billowed and the shapeless garment hung to the ground, Conrad knew well what was underneath. He’d felt it these past sleepless nights.

He forced his thoughts to the promise he’d made Terric.

Relenting a bit, he sighed. “If you’ve come to talk so that we might learn more of each other”—he rolled to the side, propping his head on one hand—“you’ll find me willing.”

“Learn more . . .” He did not like the way she smiled.

No indeed. He did not like it at all.

“Aye, ’tis precisely what I’ve come for, my lord.”

“Cait, please.”

She took a step toward him.

“It seems I’ve quickly become accustomed to sleeping by your side.” She frowned prettily. “And since there is still so much to learn . . .”

“No,” he said, his answer immediate.

“Just for a moment. So that we may speak.”

“No.”

Crossing her arms, Cait tried again. “You said you’ve forgiven me.”

“And I have. Mostly.”

“And that you loved me once.”

On that, he would disagree.