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?"
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.