A light blush tinged her cheeks; her gaze flickered, then steadied. Abruptly, she stood her ground. "That's ridiculous." The statement was emphatic. "You didn't lay a finger…" Her words trailed away; her gaze blanked.
"On you?" Demon grinned tightly. "Not one-all ten." He trapped her gaze as she refocused. "Can you deny you were in my arms?"
Her lips compressed, her expression turned mutinous, her chin set like rock. Her eyes-those usually soft orbs-positively flared. "That was because of a mouse!"
"The cause is irrelevant. As far as society's concerned, having spent the night alone with me, your virtue and reputation are in question. The accepted code of behavior decrees I offer you the protection of my name."
Flick stared at him, then determinedly shook her head. "No."
He looked down at her, and coolly raised his brows. "No?"
"No, that's positively stupid." Flinging her hands in the air, she swung away. "You're blowing this up out of all proportion. Society's not going to say anything because they'll know nothing about it. Dunstable won't talk." Swinging about, she paced back. "I'll see him and explain-" Lifting her head, she saw Demon almost at the door. "No! Wait!"
She raced across the room. She would have caught him, but he turned and caught her instead. His hands about her upper arms, he held her away from him. And glared at her.
"There's no point arguing-I'm going to see the General."
His determination was blazoned in his eyes; Flick couldn't mistake it. Her mind raced; she licked her lips. "He'll be at breakfast." Dragging her gaze from his, she sent it skimming down, over his rumpled clothes.
He looked down, too, then frowned; extending one leg, he scowled at the muddy streaks marring his Hessians. And swore. Releasing her, he took stock of his disreputable state. "I can't go in to see him like this."
Flick kept her eyes wide and innocent, and held her tongue. Even when-especially when-his gaze, hard and blue, returned to her face.
After a moment, lips compressed, he nodded. "I'll go home and change-then I'll be back." Eyes narrowing, he held her gaze. "And then we can discuss this fully-with the General."
She merely raised her brows and maintained a strategic silence.
He hesitated, looking into her eyes, then, with a curt nod, turned and stalked out.
Flick watched him go, drifting back to the French doors to watch him stride across the lawn. Only when he'd disappeared into the shadows of the trees did she turn back into the room-grit her teeth, clench her fists, and give vent to a frustrated scream.
"He's impossible! This is impossible." After a moment, her eyes darkened. "He's out of his mind."
With that, she stalked off to clear the matter up.
Two hours later, Demon drove his bays up the drive of Hillgate End. Under his expert guidance, the curricle came to a flourishing halt immediately before the steps. Handing the reins to the groom who came running, he stepped down. Drawing off his gloves, he strode to the house.
He was perfectly attired in a blue morning coat and ivory breeches, ivory cravat and shirt, with an elegantly restrained blue-and-black-striped waistcoat. His Hessians, another pair, gleamed. His appearance was precisely as he considered it should be, given his errand.
Jacobs opened the door to his knock. Demon returned his greeting with a nod and headed straight for the library. He was somewhat surprised to gain the door without encountering Flick; he'd expected some last-ditch effort on her part to interfere with his plans-his immolation on the altar of the right and proper.
Turning the handle, he opened the door and entered, swiftly scanning the long room for any sign of an angel.
She wasn't there.
The General was, seated as usual at his desk, and sunk behind a huge tome. He looked up as Demon closed the door-and smiled warmly, delightedly.
Demon strolled nearer and saw his mentor's eyes twinkling. Inwardly, he cursed.
The General held up a hand before he could speak. "I know," he declared, "all about it."
Demon came to a dead halt facing the desk. "Flick." His tone was flat. His left hand slowly clenched.
"Eh? Oh, yes-Felicity." The General grinned and leaned back in his chair, waving him to the chair beside the desk. Although Demon moved in that direction, he couldn't sit-he prowled to the window beyond.
The General chuckled. "You needn't worry. A potential imbroglio it might have been, but Felicity took the bit between her teeth and sorted it all out."
"I see." His features under rigid control, his expression utterly bland, Demon turned his head and raised a brow. "How very helpful of her." Even to him, his tones sounded steely. "How did she manage it?"
"Well-;' If the General was aware of his tension, he didn't show it; he pushed his chair back the better to beam up at him. "She came straightaway to me, of course, and explained what happened-how she'd felt the need of some air and so gone riding late last night, and forgot the time, and wound up past your farm." The General's smug expression clouded. "Have to say, m'boy, I'm not at all sanguine about her riding off like that alone, but she's promised me she won't do it again." His wide smile returning, he looked up. "One good thing about this little fright she's had, what?"
Demon said nothing; the General grinned and continued, "Luckily, this time, you saw her-very good of you to insist on escorting her home."
"It seemed the least I could do." Especially as it had been him she'd ridden out to see.
"Silly of her to take that old path-Hendricks gave up on it years ago. As for the rain-I can't tell you how relieved I am that you were with her. Goodness knows, she's a reliable miss, but still, she's young, and inclined to press on regardless. Your decision to stop at the hut until the rain passed was unquestionably correct. After that, of course, all the rest followed-no one's fault it happened as it did. Hardly surprising you both fell asleep."
The General looked up and frowned-as severely as he ever did-at him. "And don't think you have to reassure me that nothing happened. I know you-known you from a boy. I know nothing untoward occurred. I know my Felicity would be safe with you."
The unexpected fierceness in the General's eyes held him silent; with a satisfied nod, the General sat back.
"Yes, and she told me about the mouse, too. She's petrified of the silly things-always has been. Just what I'd have expected-you had the sensitivity not to laugh at her, but to soothe her. Nothing scandalous there."
Glancing at his desk, the General frowned. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Dunstable. Him coming across you this morning was neither here nor there-he's an old friend and lucidly no gabblemonger. Flick insisted on speaking with him after she'd seen me, and he dropped by to see me half an hour ago. Just to reassure me that he would never say a word to harm our Felicity." Grinning, the General glanced up. "Dunstable also asked me to convey his apologies to you for jumping to unwarranted conclusions."
Demon met the General's eye. Flick had plugged every hole, countered every argument.
"So," the General said, his tone one of conclusion, "I hope you can see that I'm perfectly convinced there's no reason for any sacrifice on your part. As you haven't in any way harmed Felicity's reputation, there's absolutely no reason you need offer for her, is there?"