Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,27

had she allowed him to do? Why did her senses disappear every time this man was near?

“Guinevere?” The door rattled.

Asher opened his mouth as if to answer Lilias, and Guinevere quickly pressed a finger to his lips, her shock at her scandalous, dangerous behavior loosening its grip on her just enough so she could speak.

“I’m here,” she said, clearing her throat, which sounded entirely too husky, entirely too much like she had just been kissed senseless.

“Whatever have you been doing?” her best friend asked.

Asher’s warm brown eyes danced with wicked amusement, the unrepentant rogue! Heat flamed her cheeks and crawled its way down her neck to her chest. Egads, she wished she had a fan.

Before she could gather herself to answer, Lilias spoke again in a rush of words. “Your mother is beside herself looking for you!”

Guinevere rolled her eyes. It was most unfortunate that her mother had noted her absence from the ballroom. Usually she did not pay Guinevere much heed once they’d arrived at whatever affair they were attending, since it was Mama’s companion Miss Prichard’s job to chaperone her and her sisters, but Miss Prichard was home ill.

“I was beset with a megrim,” Guinevere said, sounding unconvincing to her own ears.

Another prick of guilt pinched her, but this one was for lying to Lilias. She never withheld secrets from her best friend, but how could she admit that she’d allowed the man who had callously thrown her over once before to take liberties again. And in a library in the middle of a ball no less! It was the very behavior ruinous scandals were made of.

“Did the megrim attack you before or after you rescued Lady Constantine?”

Asher arched his eyebrows in raffish perfection. Why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome and make her act so untoward?

“After,” she responded, giving her throat, which was still too husky, another good clearing.

“Guinnie, I think you are getting a cold.”

Lilias was such a true friend, and Guinevere felt horrid about lying. She bit her lip as Asher pushed her hand away from his lips and grinned at her, making her belly flutter.

Blast him, blast him.

“Possibly,” she squeaked. “Did you see Lady Constantine?”

“Yes, but not Lord Charolton. How did you stop his plan for Lady Constantine?”

Asher wiggled his eyebrows at her while making a pretend pistol with his fingers. The man was beyond the pale. Didn’t he comprehend that their behavior of moments before had put them a hairsbreadth from ruination?

“You know I can be very persuasive when I try,” Guinevere said.

Lilias snorted at that. “Where is he?”

“I assume he departed as I suggested.”

“Excellent. By the by, I have not seen the odious Carrington.”

Oh, dear heavens!

Guinevere cringed. Lilias was calling Asher odious as a loyal friend would, but her timing for a strong show of allegiance was most unfortunate.

All the lightheartedness disappeared from Asher’s face, and his gaze narrowed upon her. What did he expect, that he could publicly stomp on her heart five years ago and she would praise his nonexistent virtues?

“Perhaps he left, as well,” Lilias continued, unaware that the man in question was listening to her every word. Guinevere wanted to expire on the spot. “Oh, and I forgot to mention that Kilgore approached me and asked, none too subtlety, after your whereabouts. He seemed most concerned that you keep your promise to dance the last set with him.”

Asher’s stare turned positively brutal and unfriendly. She did not fool herself that if he was jealous, it was no more than him wanting her attention because she was giving it to Kilgore.

“Should you not depart and tell my mother I’ll be straight to the ballroom?” Guinevere asked weakly.

“Of course, of course,” Lilias replied, “but I think you should consider Kilgore if he is truly pursuing you this time.”

“Lilias!” Guinevere hissed, aghast.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go soothe your mother, but the subject of you and Kilgore is not finished. He may be a rogue, but I have always said—” Guinevere squeezed her eyes shut, praying Lilias would not finish the sentence “—reformed rogues make the best husbands.”

Guinevere opened her eyes with a sigh to find Asher staring at her as if she had leprosy. Lilias’s departing footsteps echoed against the hardwoods for one moment before uncomfortable silence descended. She didn’t know what to say, but it occurred to her that she did have a question.

“Did you follow me from the ballroom?” she asked Asher.

“Nay.” His tone was disdain personified. She was foolish for having even entertained the notion for one