An Honorable Rogue Read Online Free Page A

And. a little voice added waspishly. by pleasing noblewomen too. The candlelight shone on a tunic that was a rich kingfisher blue. It had the sheen and drape of silk. Both the tunic and the belt at Ben's waist flattered his form--wide shoulders, slim waist. A silver buckle glinted. Ben's chausses were of fine grey linen, and the leg bindings matched the blue of his tunic. His boots...
    'Rose...' he was looking around, apparently puzzled '...where's Per?'
    Rozenn took a deep breath and looked into Ben's eyes and wished the night was not so hot and airless; it was very hard to breathe.
    'Oh, Ben, there is so much to tell you...'
    Thus it was that Ben found himself sitting at Rozenn's board, tasting rich red wine and chicken pie while he pretended her news was new to him.
    Ben listened while Rozenn talked about Per's death, about how swiftly the sickness had taken him, about how she had tried to nurse him, all to no avail. He watched the sadness enter her eyes, shoved aside his empty plate, and reached for her hand.
    'You'd come to care for him very much, hadn't you?'
    Rose's hair was unravelling from its braid, a glossy, dark mass of curls. She bent her head and wound it loosely at the nape of her neck. Her voice, when she spoke, was muffled. 'Naturally, I cared for him. He was my husband.'
    'Rozenn...' gently Ben turned her face back to his, and reclaimed her hand '...there's more, isn't there?"
    She sighed. 'Per had debts.'
    Knowing how punctilious Rose was and how shamed she must have felt, Ben made his voice light. 'Don't we all?'
    'Ben, I'm not talking about the odd penny here and there, but substantial amounts. After the funeral, half the town came knocking on the door, demanding payment.' She gave him a rueful smile and Ben caught his first glimpse of her dimples. 'Ironic, isn't it? I chose Per because I wanted--no, needed --security, and he turns out to owe money to the world and his wife. I tell you, if I ever catch so much as a glimpse of a tally stick again, I'll jump on the next horse I can find and gallop out of the Duchy."
    Ben smiled. 'They have tally sticks in Normandy too, cherie.' He rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. Her fingers were clinging to his as though she'd never let go. Her breasts were something of a distraction, rising and falling as they were, under that flimsy nightgown. Rose thinks of me as a brother, he reminded himself, and kept his eyes fixed firmly on her face. It struck him that her dimples were surprisingly kissable and her mouth too looked inviting...
    No. No. What was he thinking? Abruptly he released her hand and reached for his wine-cup. This was Rose, who openly admitted she wanted stability, the security he could never give her. Thank God, she seemed unaware of the temporarily lustful direction his thoughts had taken.
    He indicated the money pouch at his belt. 'I've a few deniers with me, if that will help, ma belle. Don't mention it to Countess Muriel, but I was in Rennes recently with Duke Hoel. He paid handsomely to hear Turold's new "Song of Roland".'
    When she nodded, Ben knew he did not have to expand. Rose might not know of his secret work for the Duke, but it was common knowledge that while Duke Hoel was titular Duke of Brittany, many of the barons, Count Remond of Quimperle included, merely paid lip-service to his authority. The nobles made, and broke, other alliances every day. Deals were struck with Bretons, with Normans, with anyone--nothing mattered but that the arrangement gave a temporary advantage. Frankish noblemen had about as much honour as court whores.
    Rozenn laid her fingers on his arm. It was the lightest of touches, the friendliest of touches, but it had muscles clenching in Ben's belly, sensual muscles that had no business clenching when she touched him. He frowned.
    'That's sweet, Ben. but not necessary. Fortunately Mark Quemeneur offered a reasonable price for most of Per's stock. I hope to sell the rest on market day.'
    Sweet. Now there was a