“You made me ache with your tenderness,” she continued, her voice beginning to quaver. “And then you come to me in lust only, taking me and then leaving me more alone than I have ever been before.”
“You could have refused me,” he said in a choked whisper. “I told you that you could.” It was his only defense.
“I missed your touch,” she said, her smile bittersweet. “Each time, I hoped what we did would bring you close to me again. That it would be as it was before between us.”
William covered his face with his hands, overwhelmed with emotion. When he heard her rise, he dropped them and looked up at her.
“It is you I need rescuing from now, William, for you are breaking my heart,” she said, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “You bring me misery of a kind Rayburn never could.”
He grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving.
“I am sorry with all my heart for hurting you,” he said, pleading. “I am sorry for it all.”
“You did not even believe me when I tried to warn you of the French landing,” she flung at him, her voice bitter.
He did not care if she chastised him so long as she stayed.
“I should have listened to you.” The fact that the troubadour brought her news of war did not mean the man was not also trying to seduce her, but William did not say that.
“Please, Catherine, I do not want to leave with this unhappiness between us.”
She knew the risk that he might not return from battle without him having to say it. It was unfair to play on her sympathy in this way, but he was too desperate to care.
All he wanted was to have that closeness between them again. The joy. She was not like other women, not like his mother. If he could make Catherine happy, she would not leave him.
He pressed her open hand against his cheek. “I know I cannot mend it all tonight,” he said, looking up at her. “But could you pretend to forgive me for this one night? We cannot know when we will have another.”
When he kissed her palm, she closed her eyes as if bracing herself. He put his arms around her waist and rested his head against her.
“I promise I will be a better husband to you when I return.” He meant it with all his heart.
She ran her fingers through his hair, then kissed the top of his head. The miracle of her kindness washed over him.
He knew he must not fail her again.
He rose to his feet and lifted her in his arms. He looked into her face, waiting for her answer. After a long, long moment, she nodded. He carried her to his bedchamber before she could change her mind.
Tonight he would take her with a tenderness he hoped might begin to heal her heart.
He set her on the edge of the bed and lit a single candle. When he came to sit beside her, she moved away so that they did not touch. He had a long way to go to earn her trust back.
He turned her away from him and began massaging her neck and shoulders. Her muscles were tense under his hands; he worked them until he felt her relax.
He kissed her along the curve of her neck. When he reached her ear, he whispered, “Lie down for me, Kate.”
She let him ease her down onto her belly.
He undid her braid and ran his fingers through the long, silky strands. As always, he was mesmerized by the hundred shades of gold reflected in the candlelight. Sweeping her hair to one side, he leaned over and pressed his lips to her cheek.
He rubbed her scalp and temples with his fingertips until she closed her eyes. Then he moved down to her shoulders and back, massaging through the thin night shift. By the time he worked his way to her fingers, her hands were limp.
“Are you cold?” he asked, and smiled at her muffled grunt in response.
He turned his attention to her feet, rubbing first the soles and then each toe in turn. The curve of her lips told him she was enjoying his ministrations. He bent her leg so that her foot rested against his chest while he massaged her calf. He stopped to kiss her foot, her toes, to run his tongue along the sole of her foot.
He laid her foot on the bed and kissed the back of her knee. As he kissed it, he eased her night shift up her thighs.
The room was warm.
