Page 6 of The Earl

The wooden door scraped open.

“So kind of you to receive guests by absconding away without us,” Guy said. Since he knew nothing of Cait, Conrad could not blame him for his confusion. After all, he had been an abysmal host—his mother would be ashamed of him.

Lance followed Guy into the room, not bothering with any preliminaries or pleasantries. “Talk to us.”

Conrad had to smile at that. Lance was the most direct of all of them, even more so than Guy.

“Ask him.” Conrad nodded to Terric.

“Me?” Terric’s eyes narrowed.

If Cait had not said anything about their . . . connection on the way to Licheford, Conrad would not betray her by speaking out of turn. Terric must have realized it, for he frowned, grumbling something none of them could hear clearly, and sat in a high-backed wooden chair.

Lance and Guy said nothing.

“He does not appear to be forthcoming with information.” Guy sat on the chair next to Terric. “Though we are glad you are both here, are we not?”

The question was directed at Conrad, who forced himself to nod.

Frustrated and eager and so very tired of waiting, Conrad felt a familiar urge to lash out. Instead, he tended to the fire that was nearly always ablaze in the corner of the room.

The members of the order had never been at odds before. Not even when he’d suggested they form an order to rebel against their corrupt king. The four of them had an unshakable bond, formed at the Tournament of the North these many years past. Together, they’d saved Cait from being raped. Together, they’d killed the king’s man.

It was on that day that he and Terric had first met the mercenary and the blacksmith.

Now he felt as if he were on shaky ground with his friends. His brothers. He should have told Terric the truth about Cait sooner. But he’d feared it would change everything between them.

That could not happen. Not now. They needed to pull together, not fall apart.

I have to speak to Cait.

“This is about your sister.” Lance sat, leaving Conrad the only man standing. It was a comment, thankfully, and not a question, and neither he nor Terric seemed eager to respond.

Guy filled the awkward silence as Conrad leaned against the stone wall, unable to sit still.

“What happened? Do you have news? We really have been desperate to hear from you.”

“Dromsley was attacked.” Terric spoke as if such a thing were a regular occurrence. His scowl indicated his mind was still fixed on Cait.

Guy sat up. “Attacked? By whom?” he asked.

“Details, brother,” Conrad insisted, the moniker leaving his lips before he remembered Terric was not happy with him at the moment.

“About my wife, or about the battle?” Terric asked, smiling for the first time. “I’ll bet neither of you ever thought Lance and I would become brothers in truth.”

Brothers in truth. Something about that phrase bit into Conrad, but he shook it off. Although he was happy for his friends, he thought it a rather inopportune time for them to have decided marital life was agreeable.

“I’ve offered my congratulations,” he tried again, “but I’d like to hear more about the attack.”

Patience was not Conrad’s most endearing trait. In fact, he had very little of it.

“Roysa came to Dromsley just after she was widowed, looking for Idalia. It was through her we learned her brother-in-law, the new lord of Stokesay, conspired to march on Dromsley.”

Ulster, a notorious king’s man. It did not surprise him. Nor was he surprised to learn there had indeed been an attack. The order had expected that either Dromsley or Licheford would take the brunt of King John’s ire. Given that he and Terric were two of the four men who’d started the revolt, and the others were staying with them as guests, they were natural targets. Luckily, both castles were also well fortified.

“Bastards, both.” Guy crossed his arms. “We suspected something like this. I’m not surprised to learn John never intended to meet with us. He simply wanted more time to act.”

“What happened?” he asked of Terric again.