Free An Honorable Rogue by Carol Townend Page A

vowed, he must be circumspect. The kiss had been a lapse of judgement, but if he took care it did not happen again, she would regain her faith in him. A reminiscent smile chased his frown away.
    Rose--who would have thought it? The feel of her.. .the taste of her... The way he and, he would swear, she too, went still the moment their lips touched...
    He shook his head; such a lapse must not happen again. It was vital that Rose should put her confidence in him. Lord help him if she ever found out that he was behind her summons to England. He must take care. Not that it mattered on his own account, naturally, it mattered because of the Duke and his mission. Rose was out of bounds.
    Tossing and turning on her mattress that night, Rozenn waited for Ben to come in. She had not laid eyes on him since he had kissed her on the jetty and dived back into the Laita to win his wager. He was very late.
    A discordant howl cut through the night air. By the sound of it, a battalion of drunks were toiling up the hill from one of the port taverns, yowling like tomcats. Tensing, Rozenn listened for the sound of a key turning in the lock, but it never came. Of course not. Even in Ben's worst moments, he would never howl so discordantly. Drunk as a lord, Ben could hold a tune.
    Absently she touched her fingers to her lips. Why had he kissed her? Their friendship had never been on that sort of footing, and, as far as she was concerned, it never would be. So why the kiss?
    The answer came in a flash. As show. Both she and Mikaela had been but part of the show he had laid on for the entertainment of the Count's men; to him the kisses had meant nothing.
    To her, though... Gently rubbing her lips with her finger, Rozenn closed her eyes against the glow of the banked-down fire. Ben's kiss had melted her bones; she had wanted to press close and closer still. She had wanted more, and when he had lifted his lips from hers, it had taken every ounce of will-power not to reach up and draw his head back down again.
    I had no idea, she thought. No idea a kiss could be so...so compelling. With Per... She repressed a shudder. She would not think about kissing Per, not now, and soon, when she left Quimperle, she need never think of him again. Once away from this town, there would be no reminders, nothing to point out that marrying Per had been the biggest mistake of her life.
    Kissing Ben, though... Kissing Ben on the jetty had been nothing short of a revelation. Kissing Ben had been disturbing, but not in the way that kissing Per had been disturbing. No wonder women fell over themselves to gain Ben's attention...
    She bit hard on her finger. Was Ben regretting kissing her? Was that why he was so late coming back? Could he not face her?
    Perhaps he had decided to sleep elsewhere. If he had, she would have liked to know. She would have double-bolted the front door. Worrying about that unbolted door was what was keeping her awake. But tonight, lest he return, that door must remain unbolted. If Ben wanted to sleep here, she would hate to lock him out.
    Turning her head, Rozenn peered through the dark in the direction of the street. The drunks' caterwauling was fading as they progressed up the hill; heading, she expected, for one final drink at the White Bird.
    A log shifted. Rolling on to her side, Rozenn tried to compose herself for sleep. No sense waiting up half the night. Ben was most likely celebrating his winnings by the broaching of a few barrels himself. Unbidden, the features of Alis FitzHubert swam into her mind, with her pretty blue eyes and her yellow hair. Rose grimaced-- please God, let him not be celebrating with Lady Alis.
    Rose would think about Sir Richard of Asculf as she usually did when falling asleep; she would recall his kindness; she would think about the gold cross that he have given her; she would remind herself how strong he was.
    But despite her best intentions, Rozenn's last conscious thoughts were of a dark-haired lute-player singing