Page 26 of The Soul of a Rogue

Rune bristled, his right eyebrow cocking. “Like a servant?”

She took a decided step closer to the door of the drawing room before Rune could fight her on it and she looked at him over her shoulder. “No, not like a servant. Just trust me and do it, Rune, please. I know how to handle the marquess and having you stand next to me doesn’t help this matter at all. He’s very protective of the baths—he doesn’t want the riffraff down in them.”

Rune’s head angled to the side. “So I’m not a servant, but riffraff?”

Her look went to the ornate gold-leafed ceiling with an exaggerated sigh as her voice dipped into a whisper. “Just because what happened with us two hours ago, happened—”

“Twice.”

“Twice, yes.” She swallowed a groan. “But none of that gives you any leave to try and control a situation you know nothing about. I am the one that will get us access to the Roman baths, and you need to stay behind me and stay silent or he will never let you down there with me.”

“Do you even want me down there with you?”

“Of course I do, don’t be silly. I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m looking for and two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“You just would like me silent now?”

“Correct.”

He stared at her, his head still cocked to the side, his jaw shifting back and forth. She didn’t think it possible, but the ire on his face made him all the more handsome. Dangerous. A pang twisted deep in her core, vibrating outward along her folds. Damn. Why did she have to revel in dangerous?

She clamped down on the thought of his hands raking over her body, rough and demanding. Now was not the time.

“Rune…”

He offered one curt nod.

The relieved sigh barely left her lips before Lord Kallen walked into the room. Rather, shuffled into the room. The tufts of white hair determined to stand upright in clumps on his head swayed with each heavy step. His shoulders hunched, the gold-tipped cane he’d always held in his hand clunked on the floorboards as a third leg.

Elle frowned. His gout must be bothering him far more than the last time she’d seen him four months ago.

“My dear Eliana, finally, you have returned to the island.” His arms went wide in delight.

Elle rushed forward, grabbing his free hand and trying to block as much of Rune as she could from his aging grey eyes. The marquess was close to her height, even more so as his shoulders had started to droop throughout the years. “It makes my heart so happy to see you and to see how spritely you came into the room. You must be feeling well, my friend.”

“Oh child, you flatter me so.” He lifted his weathered left hand from her grasp and his fingers curled as he patted her cheek. “You saw me shuffle in just the same as I felt it. But we don’t dwell on that. What we dwell on is the four months you were away. Far too long. The isle misses you.”

“Or is that just you? I think the rest of the island can do without me.”

“Scissorsquack—we all missed you. Even Mrs. Flordin.”

Elle smiled. “Now it is you that flatters me. Please, sit.” She ushered him to the yellow and black damask settee nearest them. He dipped down to the cushions and she sat next to him. Rune started to move to the chair opposite them, but she shot him a look to be still.

He took it as intended and stiffened, insulted, but he stopped.

Good. Better to have Rune be a rigid statue at the side of the room than to draw any attention to himself.

Too late. Lord Kallen was already jabbing his cane in the air toward Rune. “Who are you, sir, standing in my drawing room like this?”

Rune glanced at Elle. She shook her head. He stayed silent.

Lord Kallen looked to Elle. “I tell you, the island hasn’t been right since you’ve been gone. Mrs. Flordin has taken to hogging all the good asparagus from the fields and you always used to beat her to the farmer and now she lords it over me like she’s found a golden calf. So I bought all the early peas on the island before she could get to them. The sweet ones.”

Elle laughed. “Did you eat all of them?”

“Of course not. Gave them all to the staff. As long as they didn’t go into Mrs. Flordin’s swinging yapper.”

“You are so naughty.” She squeezed his hand. For as much as she worried on her old friend, as long as he was fighting with Mrs. Flordin, she knew he was doing well. “But it is good to see your spirits high.”

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