A Rogues Proposal

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?'

Demon held his gaze, but didn't answer; the General smiled.

'It was all perfectly innocent-and now we'll say nothing more about it, what?' He hauled his tome back into position before him. 'Now tell me. I've just been checking these offshoots of the Barbary Arab. What have you heard about this colt, Enderby?'

As if in compensation, the General invited him to lunch. Demon accepted-then, offering to carry word of his joining the table to Jacobs, left the General to his records.

Shutting the library door, Demon paused in the quiet of the corridor, trying, yet again, to regain a sense of equilibrium. He understood what had happened; rationally, logically, he knew all was well. Unfortunately, he didn't feel it. He felt… deprived.

As if a long-desired object of paramount importance had slipped-been whisked-from his grasp, just as he was about to close his hand.

Frowning, he went to find Jacobs.

He discovered him in the butler's pantry; his message delivered, Demon returned to the front hall and, without a heartbeat's pause, set out to hunt down Flick. Feeling very much like a hungry leopard, he prowled through the downstairs rooms. She would be somewhere close, he was sure, just in case he had raised some quibble she hadn't foreseen and the General had sent for her.

He found her in the garden hall.

She was snipping the stems of flowers and slipping them into a vase. Humming, she tilted her head this way and that, studying her creation. Demon watched her for a full minute, taking in her crisp, cambric morning gown, noting her hair, newly brushed, a gilded frame about her face.

After drinking his fill, he quit the doorway; on silent feet, he approached her.

Flick snipped the stem of a cornflower and considered how best to place it. She held it up, her hand hovering-

Long fingers plucked the bloom from her grasp.

She gasped, but even before her gaze collided with his, she knew who stood beside her. She knew his touch-knew the sense of strength he projected. 'Have you seen the General?' she gabbled, frantically trying to slow her racing heart.

'Hmm.' Eyes half-closed, he lazily angled the stem this way, then that, then slid it home into the vase. He surveyed his handiwork, then, apparently satisfied, turned to her. 'I did see him, yes.'

His lazy, indolent-sleepy-expression deceived her not at all; beneath his heavy lids, his eyes were sharp, his gaze incisive. She lifted her chin and picked up the garden shears. 'I told you there was no need for any drama.'

His lips lifted in a slight smile. 'So you did.'

Flick stifled a sniff at his tone; she had, indeed, expected his thanks, once he'd had time to consider, to realize what his offer would have meant. She supposed he would marry sometime, but he was only thirty-one, and he definitely didn't want to marry her.

But he made no further comment. Instead, he lounged, shoulders propped against the wall, and, with the same lazy, unnerving air, watched her place her flowers. As the silence stretched, it occurred to her that perhaps he thought she didn't fully appreciate the sacrifice he'd been prepared to make. 'It's not that I'm not grateful.' She kept her gaze firmly fixed on her blooms.

Her comment succeeded in dissipating a little of his indolence. She felt the sudden focusing of his attention.

'Grateful?'

She continued to snip and set. 'For your kind offer to save my reputation. I appreciate it would have entailed a considerable sacrifice on your part-thankfully, there was no need.'

His gaze locked on her profile, Demon fought to remain where he was-and not haul her into his arms and kiss her, just to shut her up. 'Sacrifice? Actually, I hadn't viewed taking you to wife in quite that light.'

'Hadn't you?' She blinked at him in patent surprise, then smiled and turned back to her flowers. 'I dare say you would have, once you'd stopped to think the idea through.'

Demon simply stared at her. He'd never felt so… dismissed in his life.

'Luckily, there was no reason for worry. I did tell you so.'

Luckily for her, what next he might have said, and done, neither of them were destined to learn; Jacobs appeared in the doorway with the information that lunch was awaiting them in the dining parlor.

Flick led the way. Demon no longer expected anything else; he prowled just behind her, making no effort to fully catch up-in his present mood, it was probably wisest if she remained just out of reach.

Lunch was not a success.

Flick grew increasingly impatient with their guest as the meal progressed. He contributed nothing to the conversation beyond answering questions the General threw his way. Instead, broodingly intent, he watched her, as if studying some incomprehensible being of whom he nevertheless disapproved, leaving her to chatter with increasingly feigned brightness until her head ached.

By the time the meal ended and they pushed back their chairs, she was ready to snap at him-if he deigned to give her the chance.

'Well, m'boy-let me know if you detect any weakness in those horses.' The General shook hands with Demon, then smiled at Flick. 'Why don't you see Demon to the stable, m'dear? It's a lovely day out there.' With his usual benign smile, the General waved at the French doors, open to the terrace. 'Enjoy the fine weather while you may.'

Across the table, Flick met Demon's level gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was, all sweet comfort, accompany him to the stable-she was annoyed with him, at the way he was behaving. It was as if he'd been denied something he wanted, for heaven's sake. He was sulking! All because things hadn't gone as he'd planned-because she'd rescripted his grand gesture for him, and he hadn't got to play the role he'd expected. That of heroic sacrifice.

Drawing a deep breath, she held it; lips compressed, she held his gaze challengingly. Very nearly belligerently.

He merely raised one brow-even more challengingly, more defiantly; stepping back, he gestured to the