Page 56 of The Earl

Chapter 23

Cait had planned to seek Conrad out, abbey or not, but by the time she was shown to her small stone bedchamber, she was eager to sit. To rest. She would undress, brush her hair, and prepare properly for bed. But first, just a wee rest.

When she awoke, it was to knocking at her door. The chamber she’d been given had neither a hearth nor windows, so when she saw Conrad there, it took her a moment to realize he was prepared for the day.

“What hour is it?” she asked, her backside still sore, a yawn escaping.

“Nearly sunrise.”

It could not be.

“I . . . slept through the night?”

His eyes traveled up and down her person, giving Cait very unholy thoughts. A bell rang out just then, for vigils most likely.

“You did, my lady.”

He seemed amused.

“And your wicked plans were foiled.”

“Wicked?” She pretended to gasp. “I am the innocent here, if you will remember.”

Though what he’d done to her the other night was anything but innocent. A wicked vision popped into her thoughts of Conrad’s eyes looking up at her from between her legs.

“Do not”—Conrad backed away as if she were a fire and he were afraid of a wee burn—“look at me that way. Not now.”

Two of his men appeared just behind Conrad. “’Twill be easy for you to ready yourself,” Conrad teased, gesturing to the clothes she’d slept in. “We shall meet below when you are ready. The horses have already been prepared.”

That surprised her. “We will not break our fast here?”

It was then she noticed—Conrad looked worried.

“Something is amiss?”

Rather than answer her, Conrad bowed and backed away, joining his men. “I will explain on the road.”

And then he was gone.

Cait stood at the door, willing him to come back. Even in her sleep she’d missed the familiar warmth of him. Already, she’d grown to rely on it. He had quickly become a part of her life Cait could not imagine living without.

As she prepared, Cait remembered the emptiness, the intense loneliness she’d felt after deciding not to continue their correspondence. After deciding she should free Conrad from his obligation to write her. If her mother had not pressed her to marry Colin, she’d not be here now.

Rushing outside to join him, Cait watched as he bid farewell to the bishop who had pulled him away last eve. He must be the cause of Conrad’s concern. What had he told him? And where was the abbess? At vigils, most likely.

“Until we meet again, my lady.”

Though she’d hardly spoken to the man, Bishop Salerno looked at her as if he knew her, as if he could see all the way down into her soul. Cait tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

“You should marry,” he said to her then.

So, Conrad had told him the truth?

“I . . .” Cait hardly knew what to say.

“Your Grace?”

The bishop gave Conrad his attention.