“And he thought the same thing the night he turned me, except his assumption was grossly inaccurate,” Angelique said with a laugh. “I was working in a tavern serving meals and ale and fending off drunkards with groping hands. Simeon was one of those men. He came in several nights in a row, insisting I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he wanted us to be together forever. I blew it off and went about my business, and one night when I walking home, Simeon jumped me in an alley and took my life. You see, the upper floor of that tavern held rooms where the local prostitutes would take their clients, and Simeon assumed I was one of them. He turned me and then found out he’d made a huge mistake. I wasn’t a whore, and I had never fancied men. I was, however, very good at handling a knife, so instead of being in his bed, I’m at his side. I’m quite proficient at swords now, too.”

“And that’s why you dress like a man?”

“No, I dress this way because I prefer it. Do you honestly like being trapped in that floor-length monstrosity of a skirt?”

“I’ve never thought about it. It’s all I know.”

“Then you need to broaden your mind,” Angelique said, taking a step closer. “And I think you know I’m the one who can do that.”

Bennett’s heart rate kicked up a notch, and she adjusted her shawl, using the wool to rid her palms of the sweat that had suddenly formed. “I-I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course, you do,” Angelique said, moving into Bennett’s personal space. “The last time I was here, I caught you looking at me during every meal. Our eyes would meet, and then you’d look away, only to look again when you thought my attention was elsewhere. Someone doesn’t do that unless they’re interested, and you, my dear Bennett, are interested. Aren’t you?”

Bennett drew in a shallow breath. For far more times than the woman suspected, Bennett's eyes had sought Angelique out. It was futile to fight the urge, and Bennett had stolen countless secret glimpses. How could she not? Angelique had unblemished fair skin, and her cheekbones were broad and her lips full and rosy. She wore her auburn hair loose, the natural mane cascading down her back like a lustrous wave, and the dimple in Angelique’s chin accentuated her determined jawline. Her breeches and waistcoat only emphasized the shapeliness of the woman’s legs and waist, and the open neck of her tunic revealed enough cleavage to have given Bennett pause more than once.