An Honorable Rogue (24 page)

Absently running his fingers down the silken length of her hair, he lifted it to his nose and inhaled. Jasmine, soapwort, and beneath them, Rose. Sleeping like a baby with not the faintest notion that her companion had lain awake half the night yearning for something that he would never have. The force of his desire had shocked him, but he would never act on it. When Ben was younger he might have dragged Rose away from Quimperle and forced her to share his life. But she had chosen Per and in time the yearning had left him.

But now...but now... Ben shook his head. This journey seemed to have reawakened those longings, longings he could not pursue, especially as Rose thought Sir Richard had offered for her.

Wearily he rubbed his face. And when they got to England, and she learned that Sir Richard had
not
asked for her? Lord, what a tangle. By then Rose wouldn't even be speaking to him.

She might forgive you, in time.

Right. And I might pretend I have the right to court her, but the only life I can offer her is at best a ramshackle one. A special envoy, a secret negotiator, a 'behind the scenes' figure who spends most of his time masquerading as a minstrel...

Rose would be far better off with a knight, a
real
knight. Lord, what am I doing? I can't be thinking about offering for her myself. What would I do with a wife?

The owl screeched again and Ben caught the faint sound of an animal--or a man. perhaps?--rustling through the undergrowth. Every muscle snapped to attention.

Another rustle. The cracking of a twig. Ben's heartbeat quickened. It could be a badger, or even one of the wolves he had heard earlier, but he didn't think so. Easing himself away from Rose, he dragged on his boots--no time for cross-gartering--and gripped his shortsword. Crawling to the tent flap, he peered out.

Damn, no light. The stars must have clouded over. There was nothing to be seen but the embers of their fire, glowing like an amber eye in the grey of the clearing. If someone
was
creeping about, they could not be up to any good, and Ben had no intention of making a target of himself. Crouching almost double, he headed--he hoped-- for where Eudo and Gien were lying. Reaching out, he found a tousled head. Gien, by the cut of the hair. The space next to Gien was empty.

Clapping his hand over Gien's mouth, he shook the boy awake. Under his hand, Gien bucked and kicked. 'It is me, Ben." he whispered, and felt Gien relax, 'I heard something. Hold your tongue, eh?"

Gien nodded and Ben removed his hand from the boy's mouth. 'Where's Eudo?'

'Don't know." Ben felt, rather than saw, the boy's shrug.

'Hell.' He sat back on his heels.

A faint glow in the east told him that the dawn chorus was but a few minutes away. If they were to be ambushed, this would be the time when it was most likely to happen.

Dimly aware that it was cold outside the tent without his shirt, Ben held fast to his sword and rose, muttering, 'I'm going to beat the bounds.' Gien moved as though to accompany him. but Ben put a hand on his chest. 'No, lad. Keep watch here. Rozenn is in your care, understand?'

'Aye, but, Bened--'

'No arguments.' Pressing a finger to the boy's lips, he stole out of the clearing.

Methodically, he quartered the area. Guilt had his mind racing--he ought to have warned Eudo of his suspicions that they were being trailed. He'd not known the knight above a day, but his instincts told him he was trustworthy. Reliable enough to be told that Ben was carrying a private missive for the Duke?
Merde.
He gritted his teeth. He had been too long on his own in this business and had learned not to trust or rely on anyone. Light on his feet, he moved quietly as his father had trained him to do.

His father, Albin, had run similar errands for the Duke's predecessor. Duke Conan, But Albin had trusted once too often and had ended up dying in a ditch. So much for trust. After his father's death Ben had resolved to trust no one. He worked alone; it was safer for everyone that way.

Which was why last eve, he had not expressed his concerns to Eudo. Which was why Rose, who knew more about him than anyone, knew nothing of his secret life.
Then why in God's name did you deliberately involve Rose in this, your most important mission?

Ben's foot caught in a tree root. Why indeed? His heart banged. The light was strengthening to pearly grey and trees loomed towards him. tall, dark shadows. Overhead, a blackbird tried out a note or two, hesitated, and then launched into a full trill.

Where the
hell
was Eudo? Ben's stomach tightened. No,. he hoped, lying in a ditch like his father; not bleeding his life away because he, Ben, had failed to warn him that unscrupulous men could be following them.

The same men, he suspected, who had lain in wait for him in the stables and had nearly done for poor Gien instead. Ben was almost certain that the attack on Gien had been a case of mistaken identity, but he had said nothing. And now, if something had happened to Eudo...

Guilt was piling on guilt, it seemed, enough to drag a man down if he thought about it too long.

Ben dived through the thick scrub, working his way round to the river. Briars scored his skin. Cold sweat trickled down his back.

Guilt. He should have let Eudo know that the attack on Gien had probably been meant for him.

Guilt. He would not be in this mess if he had been travelling on his own as was his custom. But one thing led to another and since Rose was with him, Ben had found that the thought of her getting hurt was unbearable. Which was why he had asked for Eudo and Gien's company on the road to Josselin. Distractedly, Ben ran his hand through his hair. It had been a mistake to involve them, but since he had, he didn't want them to come to any harm either.

Abruptly he came to a dead halt, cold to his marrow. Rose. He should have forseen this. If Rose came to any harm because of his commission, he would
never forgive
himself.

No man can serve two masters.
He could not care for Rose
and
accept dangerous missions for the Duke. Witness the way simply being in Rose's company had lowered his guard. He had not thought through the implications of the attack on Gien any more than he had realised that by soliciting for the company of the knight and his squire, he was placing them in danger.

'You are a fool, Benedict Silvester." he muttered under his breath. A rush of wind teased the hair at the nape of his neck and raised goosebumps on his arm. 'A damned fool.'

'Amen to that!' Behind him, someone laughed.

Sword tight in his fist, Ben made to turn, but the waking wood exploded in a blinding flash of pain, and night returned.

'Ben? Ben?
Please
wake up."

Rose was calling, but she had fled the Duchy and Ben could not reach her. He was running, running to get to her, but by the time he got to where he thought she was, she had gone. Always receding ahead of him, always over the next hill.

'Ben?
Ben?'

His head, which ached and throbbed like the devil, was pillowed on something soft and a damp cloth feathered across his temples. He groaned.

'Eudo, I think he's waking.'

Her voice was laden with concern. He should stir himself to reassure her that he was all right, except it was so damned hard to move...

Eudo muttered a response, but Ben couldn't catch the gist of it. Again the cloth whispered over his temples. The pillow beneath his head shifted, gentle fingers parted his hair.

'The bleeding has stopped.' Rose said.

Ben wished the thudding in his head would stop. Experimentally, he tried to open his eyes.

'Ben?'

She was bending over him, tears of anxiety tumbling out of those huge brown eyes. Her thighs were his pillow and someone had flung a blanket over him. He forced a smile, was aware it probably emerged more like a grimace. 'No dimples,
cherie?'

She did not smother him with kisses, for which, with his head pounding as it was, he was grateful, but she gave him a watery smile and one of her dimples did briefly appear. Her hand rested lightly on the blanket on his chest and, catching it, he wound his fingers with hers and let his head fall back.

'Eudo?'

'Aye, lad, right here."

'You found me. I take it?'

'Aye.'

'Did they...' lifting a leaden arm, Ben rubbed his forehead '...did they get my shortsword?"

'No, I have it. Lucky for you I came along just as he'd felled you. He took one look at me and was off sharpish.'

'What did he look like?'

'Couldn't say. Beggar had his hood up.'

'Alone, was he?'

Eudo raised a brow. 'As far as I saw. Were you expecting trouble?"

Ben grimaced, undecided how to play it from here. Rose could not know about any of this, for her safety's sake. But Ben needed Eudo and Gien's help if they were to reach Josselin in one piece; and the more the knight knew, the better prepared he would be. Eudo could not be told the whole, of course. He could not be told of the Duke's plans concerning England, but he could be told about the Abbot's letter....

Ben glanced at Rose, who was gently massaging his temples, and struggled to a sitting position. Her hands fell away. The back of his head throbbed, and when he touched it he found a lump the size of a pigeon's
egg.

'Rose, be a sweetheart and fetch my shirt and tunic, would you? I'm cold and loathe to move for the minute.'

Rose looked searchingly at him and for a moment Ben was afraid she would object, but she gave him a curt nod and. rising, disappeared into the tent.

'Listen, Eudo." Ben spoke softly and swiftly. 'Rose does not know, but I am on a mission, carrying messages for Duke Hoel from his cousin at Quimperle."

Eudo frowned. 'The Abbot?'

'Aye. I had thought to carry them to the Duke at Rennes myself, but he has a man stationed at Josselin and I now think it best to surrender it to him to take the rest of the way. I dare not carry them farther, lest harm come to Rose.'

Eudo glanced towards the tent, and his sudden smile in that direction warned Ben that Rose was already returning with his clothes. 'Never fret, lad," he said. A battled-scarred hand patted Ben's forearm. 'You will feel yourself in no time."

Josselin. Thank the Lord, Rose thought. She glowered at Ben's back as he led them at a bone-shaking trot up the ride towards the castle gates. So what if Ben had a thundering headache? That was no reason for him to have put Jet back on the embarrassing leading rein, and neither was there any reason for him to keep secrets from her. Rozenn had seen the look that he had exchanged with Eudo when he had sent her to fetch his tunic from the tent--and she had also noted Eudo's somewhat less-than-subtle attempt at reassurance as she had emerged. The two of them were up to something and they were excluding her. She did not like it, not one bit.

Gripping Jet's reins as they clattered along the cobbled way. Rozenn straightened her shoulders.

The ride was bordered on the one side by the River Oust, and on the other by a line of merchants' houses. They were wooden for the most part, as in both Quimperle and Hennebont. Though Rozenn ached in every limb, she was determined to hide her fatigue as they overtook other travellers headed towards the castle. Adjusting her seat, she held herself straight as a poker as they jounced along, but when
Ben finally
slowed to a walk she couldn't prevent a sigh of relief escaping.