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“And that’s the reason you bear the name FitzRam, and not Montbryce?”
Blythe feared her father would get annoyed at these personal questions, but Dieter seemed genuinely interested and her father unflustered. What was going on?
“Yes, I have two half brothers—Baudoin, the current Earl of Ellesmere and Robert, the Comte de Montbryce in Normandie, and a half sister, Rhoni, Lady MacLachlainn.”
They ate in companionable silence for a while before Dieter spoke again. “I’ve heard things are still unsettled in Normandie?”
The two men chatted amicably about politics. Dieter told the story of Andernach and shared his strong opinions about the need to banish Heinrich from Saxony. He even mentioned meeting Blythe in Liège when he and Lothair were feigning loyalty to the empire.
Caedmon raised an eyebrow at the revelation, then related the tale of Agneta rescuing him after he fell at the Battle of Alnwick, stressing he knew as soon as he set eyes on her she was the one he wanted.
Aidan and Blythe exchanged curious glances across the table.
After a while, Caedmon stifled a yawn. He leaned towards Aidan. “Come, this old man is tired. I can’t keep up with you young people any more. Let’s retire and enjoy the count’s hospitality. I’m for bed.”
“But Father, I thought I would—”
Blythe could have sworn her father winked at Aidan. Her brother abruptly changed his mind.
“You’re right. I’m tired. Goodnight, Blythe. Count.”
Caedmon kissed Blythe’s forehead. “Goodnight, my lovely girl, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Father.”
Silence reigned in the room after they left. Blythe twiddled her thumbs nervously. Her hands did not want to be still. She could feel Dieter’s eyes on her. “You and my father got along well this evening. I assume you settled on a mutually agreeable ransom for me?”
“I demanded no ransom, Blythe. That’s not why I asked your father to come for you.”
She looked up from her fidgeting and stared at him. “Why then?”
He came to his feet and moved to stand behind her. He didn’t touch her, but she felt the warmth of his body. “Because I realized I couldn’t keep you here any longer, no matter how much I wanted to. If I did, you would loathe me more than you do now, and I would find that hard to bear. I knew I had to let you go.”
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “I don’t hate you, Dieter. I’ve tried, and find I can’t.”
He moved to stand at her side, took hold of her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you and your family. I couldn’t help myself. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.”
The warmth of his hands travelled into her belly and warred with the chills running up and down her spine. “You want me? For what?”
He put his hands on her waist and drew her to his body. “For my wife, Blythe. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I’ve denied it, but I can’t stand the thought of your leaving here. My life will be empty without you.”
She felt the hard evidence of his passion pressed against her and wetness pooled in her most intimate place. Her nipples tingled. Words rushed out of her mouth. “But how can you love me? I’ve been cold and rude. I was afraid to fall in love with you and pretended to be aloof. If you knew how many times I itched to put my hands on your body and explore every part of you. I’ve longed to comb my fingers through your beautiful hair, to feel your hands on my body. Dieter, ich liebe dich! I love you so much I would die if I had to remain here and not—”
His deep, passionate kiss stole away her words. His tongue delved into her mouth and she suckled like a babe. The sensation sent heat surging from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
He tore his mouth from hers. Panting, he took her hand and placed it on the side of his face. “Touch me, Blythe. I’ve longed for you to caress me. I want to make you my wife in every possible way.”
Before she could respond, he put a fingertip to her lips. “I must tell you something before you make your decision.”
She had an urge to suck his finger into her mouth, but he looked worried. “What is it?”
“I told you I have a son.”
She’d forgotten. “Yes, a son.”
He went down on one knee, but never took his eyes from her face. “You know I am a widower, Blythe. My son’s name is Johann. You need to accept he is my heir.”
Her heart went out to the child she had never met. Her mother and father had always been an important part of her life. She could not imagine growing up without a mother. “Oh, Dieter, to be a motherless child. How will he feel about me?”
