The Revolutionary and the Rogue

by Blake Ferre

  “The worst sort of filth, tarnishing our city.” Henri had once believed that. But he’d been wrong.

  “I’ve been trying to train you, Chevalier. I happen to like you, in spite of your shortcomings.” Luc hacked a cough.

  Henri had often been annoyed by Luc’s phlegmy cough. Realization struck him. “Your cough.”

  “A constant reminder that my brother and I both fell ill, but only I survived.” Luc puckered his lips and held his breath, fighting another bout of coughing.

  “I’m sorry.” Though the man was by no means good, Luc’s suffering had shaped and hardened him into the relentless officer he’d become.

  But Henri couldn’t lose sight of his mission. When Luc closed his eyes, Henri slipped the rolled parchment beneath his cloak.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Philippe slumped his backside against the door, his weight swinging it closed before he slowly sank to the floor. Perrin crouched at the bottom of the stairs, hugging the banister. He stretched his other arm toward Philippe, beckoning him. “Come here, old friend.”

  “Chevalier was right. It’s time to leave Paris.” Philippe crawled to the stairs with clumsy motions.

  “They didn’t find any evidence against us.” Perrin rubbed his finger over the ridges of the intricately carved banister. “We still have time to save Duclos and Ashford before making our escape.”

  “The officers won’t stop with one failed search. They’ll find a way to convict you.” Philippe settled himself on the bottom step, his knees pulled awkwardly to his chest. “My lord, you’ll put the rest of us at risk if you continue this mission. Guillaume and the Scarlet Crest will find another way to free our friends.”

  “I can’t abandon Ashford and Duclos. We’re too close.” Perrin refused to run off. It would be like losing Julien all over again. Standing helpless while the world turned against him.

  Philippe settled his hand on Perrin’s limp arm. “My lord, you can’t continually atone for the past by risking your life. I understand your desire to help, but circumstances are bleak, the risks too great. I’ll not have you running off to your grave.”

  Perrin sighed. He might have found something new to fight for, but he felt like a whisper of rain battling against an inevitable force. No matter how he aimed to combat the wind, he couldn’t escape his final plummet to the ground.

  “I know life might feel hollow now—meaningless, even. After my lover passed, I clung to my memories, remaining in that godawful comte’s service simply so I could feel the presence of memories past. Julien had been the only shining light in that family. My reminder that life still had beauty amongst the darkness. After Julien passed, I found someone new to care for. You.” Philippe’s voice trembled, barely audible. “When those officers barged in the house tonight, I was terrified I might lose you. I don’t think I could recover…”

  Perrin scooted closer to his friend, slipping his arm around Philippe’s hunched shoulders. “You needn’t worry over my safety.”

  “My lord, I’m afraid that’s an impossibility.” Philippe chuckled through a few stray tears. “Always acting before thinking.”

  Perrin set his palm on Philippe’s knee and squeezed. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

  “Indeed.”

  At the sight of the love and warmth in Philippe’s eyes, regret tugged at Perrin’s soul. The tremendous weight of Julien’s loss had clouded his mind, confining his existence to a void of loneliness. Ignoring those around him, he had foolishly assumed his life had little impact on his few remaining friends. But seeing Philippe in such a manner—knowing all he’d sacrificed to remain with him—Perrin feared he didn’t deserve such affection. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’re lucky I happen to like you.” Philippe arched a brow, glancing up at him with a sly smirk. “So, this Chevalier of yours… Do you trust him?”

  Even though Henri had stood before those officers and proclaimed his deceptions against Perrin, he believed that Henri had truly come to protect him. Henri’s desperation for Perrin to flee—that had been real. “I trust him.” Perhaps even cared for him.

  A commotion rang from the dining room. Raised voices of the servants trailed a series of loud footsteps. Perrin held his breath, bracing for the officers to return.

  “Now what?” He staggered to his feet just as one particular officer pushed toward them.

  Henri’s intense gaze held a mixture of concern and affection, a honey hue glimmering within those darkened eyes. “Thank God,” Henri gasped. “It took an eternity for Luc to stop grumbling over the lack of evidence. Then I had to dodge a young spy who followed me ten blocks before he finally lost interest in me.”

  “Come here.” Perrin reached for Henri’s hand and drew him closer. “We’re fine, thanks to you.” He drew his thumb across the callused pads of Henri’s fingers. The roughened skin was evidence of the many hardships Henri had endured. Perrin wanted to know all about them.

  “You must come with me. There are two officers patrolling the street as we speak.” Henri pulled on Perrin’s hand. “They’re waiting to pounce.”

  “There’s no sense in my running off at the moment. Fleeing will only grant them the evidence of guilt that they seek. We both saw that cart race off, the one hiding aristocrats. Chased by that mob in the street, that first night we met.” That night, too, Henri had saved Perrin. Warmth pooled in his stomach at the memory.

  Henri exhaled, his lips pressed into a strained line. “You’re right. We need to carefully plan your departure. I was so scared Luc had us.” He wiped his brow with a nervous chuckle. “You…er…didn’t believe that nonsense I told him? Denying my involvement with you? I had to…”

  “I know.” Perrin stretched out his hand and swept aside some of the splayed hairs that clung to Henri’s forehead. “You were incredible. Last night at the prison, the other day at the theater, and again this afternoon.” Perrin not only trusted but cared for this strange, complex man.

  “Are you a member of the Scarlet Crest?”

  Perrin stiffened. They’d been so caught up in evading the officers, he’d nearly forgotten about the Scarlet Crest’s leader and his meddling. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was sent a letter. The Scarlet Crest said I’d been marked,” Henri continued. “Warned I had to make a choice. Is it one person? Several people? How do they know so much about me? Is it you?”

  Perrin exhaled. “The Scarlet Crest is a man who leads a group of those hoping to fight against the Committee’s many injustices. I’ve no clue as to his identity. Many of my friends—those from Crimson Rose—are aligned with him. I was made aware he had some test in mind for you…regarding your loyalty to the Committee.”

  Henri leaned back and reached inside his waistcoat, withdrawing a script. “I was tasked to retrieve this. Ah. That reminds me.” Henri bent forward, reaching behind his back with an awkward twist that nearly made Perrin laugh until he revealed Duclos’s rolled artwork. “I didn’t think you’d want Luc to take these.”

  Perrin extended a shaking hand, carefully taking the treasures. “I don’t know how to thank you for protecting me. But I have to ask why. Why do you continue to help me?”

  “If only I knew.” Henri rubbed his jaw. “I’ve come to believe it doesn’t matter what a person appears to be. It’s their actions, the heart inside, that matters.”

  “And you believe me to be good? In spite of your hatred for the aristocracy?”

  Henri nodded. “You should consider taking my advice and leave Paris. If not tonight, soon.”

  Though a part of Perrin wanted the Terror and the Revolution to simply end, to find a bit of peace for himself, he couldn’t abandon his mission.

  “You know I can’t leave. You shouldn’t be here with me. It isn’t safe.” An odd mixture of ice and heat swirled in Perrin’s heart. If things had been different, Perr
in might have agreed to flee with him. But he didn’t imagine a happy end to all this. Perrin knew the risks he was about to take. He’d not drag Henri along with him.

  “I’m afraid I’m already invested in this fight of yours. This morning at the prison, I made a vow to protect Duclos. It’s what my father would have wanted.”

  Perrin rubbed the base of his throat. “Henri, I can’t ask that of you.”

  “You needn’t ask. I want to do this. To stand by your side. I…care too much. I can’t stop myself from wanting you.”

  Perrin sensed deeper emotions from the waver in Henri’s voice. He was equally stunned by the yearning that thrummed within his own heart.

  Philippe cleared his throat. “My lord, why don’t you take our guest upstairs? I’ll bring some broth to ease your nerves.”

  Perrin nodded and handed the rolled parchment and script to his faithful friend. “Could you see that these are taken to Crimson Rose?”

  “Indeed, my lord.”

  When they reached Perrin’s bedchamber, Henri hesitated and turned to him with a soft frown. “I’m afraid sleep might be an impossibility tonight.”

  “If you’d rather the staff prepare a room for you…” Perrin wasn’t certain whether sharing a bed was a good idea. The very thought of being so near to Henri set his body on fire. And yet he didn’t want to be alone.

  “I’d rather not bother your staff.” Henri pressed the door open with a playful glimmer in his eyes.

  As they stepped inside, Perrin’s gaze darted immediately to the bed, and a flush of warmth stung his cheeks.

  Timing impeccable, Philippe entered the room carrying a tureen of steaming broth. “Rest, my lord. I’ll ask Guillaume if he can send help to watch the house tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  When they were alone, Perrin sat on the edge of the bed. Henri settled beside him, and the mattress dipped until their shoulders met.

  “I have to admit, that smells delicious.” Henri’s tone was a sultry rumble, though he stared at the soup rather than Perrin. Which shouldn’t have disappointed him.

  Before offering Henri the first spoonful of broth, Perrin puckered his lips and blew the steam, arching a brow. He didn’t know what in the hell he was trying to provoke, but Henri’s tiny cry only encouraged him further.

  “That’s not fair.” Henri pouted. “You can’t distract me with those lips. Our lives are at risk, and you seduce me with broth?”

  “I knew you wanted to sip my broth.” Perrin chuckled as he held the spoon out for Henri.

  Henri groaned as he slurped his first sip. “You truly are a pest, aristo. Sometimes I don’t know if I should strangle you or ravish you.”

  “I’d rather settle for the ravishing part.” Perrin pressed his lips together, surprised and invigorated by the flirtations. Henri had a way of making the world disappear, lessening the burdens. Making Perrin believe for a few blissful moments that they might survive all this.

  The flush in Henri’s cheeks matched the heat in Perrin’s neck. The handsome scoundrel was such a lovely contradiction. In many ways, the hard lines of his jaw and cheeks matched the ferocity he’d demonstrated. But his eyes also unveiled a softer, sensitive side. One that begged to be held and comforted. It beckoned Perrin to protect and cherish him.

  “Admit it. You wanted me then. Back in that alley, you told me you’d sooner shave your hair and run through the streets naked than embrace the likes of me. I’m still waiting for that show.” Perrin dropped his gaze on the little tease of flesh beneath Henri’s unruly cravat.

  Henri dragged his finger over that very spot. “Are you now?”

  Without thinking, Perrin stretched his hand toward the offensive fabric, weaving the unbearably long material out of its place. “Let’s say we jump right to the nakedness.” Perrin had only intended it as a jest, but once again his body awakened with a burning need…making him feel alive again.

  “You rogue,” Henri sputtered, his face now a lovely shade of crimson. It made Perrin want him all the more.

  “My dear revolutionary, perhaps you are the rogue.” Perrin leaned forward and worked the buttons of Henri’s waistcoat free.

  Simple, fabric-covered things. Completely insignificant in appearance, yet those buttons caged the most miraculous vision in all the world. Perrin wanted to bite them off and spit the little enemies onto the floor. But he settled for slowly unfastening them, drawing out little gasps from his revolutionary.

  “Beautiful,” Perrin murmured. All of Henri’s sharpened edges from that first night at the club had smoothed away. Now Henri practically glowed as he smiled.

  “You look like you’re going to devour me.” Henri bit his lip, and Perrin couldn’t agree more.

  Perrin growled. “I want to devour everything about you. Not just your body. Your heart, your spirit. Your moments of affection and playfulness, in spite of your ill-mannered moments and your blasted stubbornness. Everything about you is unexpected and wonderful.”

  Time and again, Henri had worked against his own cause. For Perrin.

  “I never imagined an aristo could have such compassion, such heart. I don’t deserve your praise. Until meeting you, I let my hatred rule my actions.” Three wrinkles formed between Henri’s brows, and Perrin wanted nothing more than to smooth them away.

  “Nonsense. None of that matters now.” Perrin craved more with Henri. He needed all of the man. “Make me forget everything. I want this. You. Now.” To be filled and consumed by him at the same time. Though they might not have a future together, they could have this: a moment of pleasure before the storm arrived.

  Perhaps he was overcome with a frenzied relief. His gratitude for Henri’s safety. Or maybe it was because he was so tired of being lonely. Whatever the reason, Perrin yearned to break free from the pain and simply lose himself to something that felt right.

  Henri groaned, a lovely sound that caressed Perrin’s skin. “Surely we’ll be punished for this.”

  “Then punish me.” Perrin shifted his position and lowered the full length of his body onto the bed. He lifted his arms over his head, resting them on the pillows. An offer.

  Eyes widened with a heated hunger, Henri climbed over his body, wedging his strong thighs between Perrin’s. “I’ve always longed to make you beg for me.”

  “Please.” Perrin was more than willing.

  Henri lowered his mouth to Perrin’s, locking their lips in a fierce kiss. Teeth colliding. Tongues joined.

  Caged on his back, Perrin savored the touch of the man he’d once imagined to be his enemy. He groaned, basking in Henri’s heat, the wet caress of his lips. Oh God, Perrin was unable to stop himself from stealing this moment, the sensations too intense. Tomorrow, this might all be a long-lost memory. A fantasy that the Terror’s unyielding reach would strip from them.

  Henri pulled away, propping his torso several inches from Perrin’s chest. His breaths were heavy on Perrin’s neck. “Are you sure? If you’re not comfortable…”

  Again, his revolutionary surprised him. “You wanted to catch me, with all your sneaking around. Well, you’ve caught me. Now have me.” The last words were a pleading groan.

  There was nothing poetic in the exchange, yet it held a sense of endearment and affection. Not love. Perrin didn’t think he had it in him to love again. But something of enchantment, perhaps. Fiery need colliding in a moment of time when two people were simply destined to come together.

  “You wanted me to beg? I’m begging.” Perrin was so tired from the constant struggle of living. He wanted to think of nothing but pleasure.

  Henri’s eyes darkened as he traced those roughened fingers across his cheek. Perrin wondered about the aristocratic bastards who’d hurt him in the past. If he could, Perrin would hunt them down for harming such a wonderful soul.

  As if he knew what Perrin needed, Henri plowed his tong
ue into his mouth. Unable to quench his need, Perrin wrapped his arms around Henri’s waist, arching his hips for more. With a satisfied groan, Henri tore Perrin’s cravat free, fingers fumbling with Perrin’s waistcoat buttons without breaking the tight press of their bodies.

  “I’ve never had an aristo,” Henri huffed. “So damned decorated, it’s nearly impossible to ravish you.”

  “It would be easier if you weren’t on top of me.” Perrin chuckled, but the laughter ended in a guttural groan. Henri had somehow managed to sneak his hand into Perrin’s breeches, and his warm, slick fist wrapped around Perrin’s throbbing member. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and a cry erupted from his mouth. He’d never last at this rate.

  “I think I’d prefer to remain right here.” Henri’s massaging and wet kisses dissolved Perrin’s thoughts.

  “Then we’re agreed.” He’d never have enough of the beautiful creature above him.

  Perrin wanted all of Henri, and he couldn’t wait a moment longer. Burrowing his hands between them, he tore the remainder of Henri’s waistcoat apart, not caring that the final two buttons popped off, tumbling across the ridges of the rumpled bedding.

  To his disappointment and delight, Henri sat upright onto his knees, yanking the fabric from his muscular arms with haste.

  “Yes. Have your way with me.” Perrin growled and grabbed Henri’s shirt and pulled Henri’s chest upon his own. He greedily planted kisses across Henri’s slick neck, inhaling the smell of citrus and male musk.

  Henri tugged Perrin’s shirt over his head in several ungraceful motions. Chest exposed, Perrin realized he hadn’t taken the best care of himself over the past year. His waist was too slender. He was suddenly ashamed over his lack of defined muscle.

  “You’re lovely. Skin so soft I could wrap myself up in these arms forever.” Henri spun tender words, casting aside Perrin’s inhibitions. Making him believe they could have more than this, even though it was a lie.