Free An Honorable Rogue by Carol Townend

that kiss.
    Hell. Kissing Rose had never been part of his plan. It was vital she agreed to journey to England with him, and to that end she must trust him, she must feel safe with him as she always had done. Not in a million years did he want her to feel threatened by him. That would not suit him in the least. Drying himself on his linen chainse, Ben dragged it over his head and relieved a guard of his tunic and belt.
    'My thanks," he said, and, though irritated with himself, managed a grin.
    'Any time. Silvester, you've doubled my pay." The fellow grinned back. 'I'll stand you a drink before supper."
    If Ben was honest, it was not just that he needed Rose to choose him as her escort. His relationship with her was important and he did not want to spoil it. She was his fixed point, his guiding star in a world where much was chaos. His work for the Duke was vital, and he loved it, just as he loved his music. But proud though Ben was of these two interlinked aspects of his life, they doomed him to a wanderer's life--to the kind of life that was an anathema to a homebody like Rose. As the Duke of Brittany's special emissary, Ben must be eternally on the move between the courts and power centres of France. And now, apparently, England too. He must for ever be tramping the highways.
    The point was that wherever his work for the Duke had taken him--and at times he'd visited some dark places-- Ben had always known that, back here in Quimperle, there was Rose. Even when she had married Per, he had known that. It was something of a shock to discover that even after all this time, even while he was hoping to lure Rose to England on false pretences, he did not want to put his relationship with her at risk.
    Cursing under his breath. Ben shot a glance downstream towards the jetty, but Rozenn and Mikaela were not in sight. He could see them in his mind's eye, though, clear as day: they would be kneeling on the jetty, reaching down to haul the eel traps out of the water. Yes, he could see them clearly. Just as clearly he could see Rose's face while he had been kissing Mikaela. Her dimples had vanished.
    That was where he'd gone wrong. With Mikaela in his arms, he'd glanced across at Rose and for an instant he'd imagined a flash of yearning in her eyes. Wrong, Ben, wrong.
    She had hesitated, that should have warned him. She had taken a firm backward step. She had even said. 'Oh, no.' He should have heeded that. He sighed and shook his head. He'd been so caught up in the moment that he'd ignored the warning signals.
    So much for priding himself on his sensitivity and responsiveness to others. He hoped he hadn't wrecked his chances of persuading her to let him act as her escort. If, that is, she really was going to answer Adam's summons. Denez had heard no mention of Rose's plans, any more than Alis had done.
    'See you in the Barge then, Silvester?" Jerome asked.
    'What? Oh, yes, yes, right away." Jerome might have heard something. He would ask Jerome. Hastily, dragging on first one boot and then the other. Ben draped a friendly arm around Jerome's shoulder and turned in the direction of the tavern.
    Ben could not get Rose out of his mind. He hoped she wouldn't use the kiss as an excuse to deny him house-room. He had kissed her on impulse and, whatever he might want others to think, in reality Ben's strength of will and his habitual rapidity of thought meant that he almost never acted on a passing impulse.
    Then why start with Rose? It was madness given what was at stake, and he prayed she still trusted him. Rose didn't put her faith in many men these days, it seemed. As Ben walked towards the tavern with Jerome at his side, lines formed on his brow. Rose hadn't always been mistrustful of men. Something must have happened during the time she had been married to Per, something that had changed her, and it was more than the matter of a few debts.
    He had thought she might confide in him, but that involved closeness and trust. From this moment, he