Page 61 of The Earl

And he was hers. Utterly and completely hers.

She leaned down to where the scar began, just near his ear, and kissed it. She kissed it all the way down his cheek, so gently that she could hardly feel her lips against his flesh.

At first Cait thought it was water from the bath. Until a warm drop fell onto the corner of her mouth just as she was sitting up again. Not water, but a tear.

Conrad was crying.

This knight, this earl, this brave man who’d taken the weight of England on his shoulders, was crying.

And that’s when she understood the depth of his pain.

She had been hurting. His people, his country, were hurting.

He’d sought to heal them both.

And lost himself instead.

Conrad pulled Cait against him,ruing the small bed but grateful to have one just the same. Her wet hair brushed against his chest as she settled next to him. Thankfully, her shift and his linen braies separated them.

Every time he thought of what it would feel like to finally slide into her, to be closer than they’d ever been before, Conrad imagined Terric asking, as he would, if he had taken her. Determined to answer, “nay,” to repair the damage he had done by keeping his communication with Cait secret for so long, he resisted the urge to slip his hand under her shift. To bring her to pleasure again, to spend this night exploring every luscious curve.

“We must talk.”

“Cait.” He kissed the top of her head. “I would have married you today. Yesterday. Years ago. But we cannot do so without your brother’s consent.”

She stirred but remained quiet.

“You asked me not to tell him, and I never did. But the omission hurt him, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You spoke for me.”

She spun toward him, her face cradled in his arms. How small she looked this way.

“With the countess. The bishop. You spoke for me, as my father and brothers always have, but Terric does not do so with Roysa. She speaks for herself, as does Idalia. And I wish to do the same.”

“I aim only to keep you safe.”

“And with the bishop? Could you not have asked for my opinion before declining his offer?”

When he didn’t answer, Cait rolled her eyes.

“Did your father ask for your mother’s opinion on such matters?”

His answer was an easy one. “Nay.”

“Never?”

“Not on matters of import.”

He could tell she was getting upset again, but Conrad had simply answered the question honestly. And from what he knew of Cait’s father, neither would he have consulted his wife.

“When you formed the order, did you ask for my brother’s opinion? For Lance and Guy’s? Or did you order them to join you?”

He thought back to that day at the tournament last year. He’d known what he was asking. None had hesitated to join him, but it had very much been their choice.

“They are free men. None are in my service. Of course I asked.”

“Could you not ask me, at times? Rather than ordering me about as if I am in your service?”