A Rogue's Proposal by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

Demon. “Tell me—have you heard anything beyond suspicions?”
    Demon held his gaze. “No—nothing more than this.” Briefly, he stated all he’d heard in Newmarket that morning.
    The General humphed. “As I said, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn Dillon was involved. He’s away staying with friends—if the Committee’s agreeable to wait until he returns, that would be best, I suspect. No need to summon him back. Truth to tell, if I did send a summons, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t bolt.”
    “It’s always been a mystery how Dillon could be so weak a character when he grew up alongside Felicity. She’s so . . .” The General stopped, then smiled fleetingly at Demon. “Well, the word ‘righteous’ comes to mind. Turning her from her path, which you may be sure she’s fully considered from all angles, is all but impossible. Always was.” He sighed fondly. “I used to put it down to her parents being missionaries, but it goes deeper than that. A true character—steadfast and unswerving. That’s my Felicity.”
    His smile faded. “Would that a little of her honesty had rubbed off on Dillon. And some of her steadiness. She’s never caused me a moment’s worry, but Dillon? Even as a child he was forever in some senseless scrape. The devil of it was, he always looked to Felicity to rescue him—and she always did. Which was all very well when they were children, but Dillon’s twenty-two. He should have matured, should have grown beyond these damned larks.”
    Dillon had graduated from larks to outright crime. Demon stored the insight away, and kept his lips shut.
    He’d promised Flick his help; at present, that meant shielding Dillon, leaving him hidden in the ruined cottage. Helping Flick also, he knew, meant shielding the General, even if that hadn’t gone unsaid. And while he and Flick were doubtless destined to clash on any number of issues in the coming days—like the details of her involvement in their investigations—he was absolutely as one with her in pledging his soul to spare the General more pain.
    If the General knew where Dillon was, regardless of the details, he would be torn, driven by one loyalty—to the industry he’d served for decades—to surrender Dillon to the authorities, while at the same time compelled by the protective instincts of a parent.
    Demon knew how it felt to be gripped by conflicting loyalties, but he’d rather leave the weight on his shoulders, where it presently resided, than off-load the problem onto his ageing friend. Facing the windows squarely, he looked over the neat lawns to the shade trees beyond. “I suspect that waiting for Dillon to return is the right tack. Who knows the full story? There might be reasons, mitigating circumstances. It’s best to wait and see.”
    “You’re right, of course. And, heaven knows, I’ve enough to keep me busy.” Demon glanced around to see the General tug the heavy record book back onto the blotter. “What with you and your fellows breeding so much Irish into the stock, I’ve all but had to learn Gaelic.”
    Demon grinned. A gong sounded.
    Both he and the General glanced at the door. “Time for lunch. Why not stay? You can meet Felicity and see if you agree with my assessment.”
    Demon hesitated. The General frequently invited him to lunch, but in recent years, he hadn’t accepted, which was presumably why he’d missed seeing Felicity grow up.
    He’d spent the previous evening dredging his memory for every recollection, no matter how minute, trying to find some balance in his unexpectedly tilting world. Trying to ascertain just what his role, his standing, with this new version of Felicity should be. Her age had been a pertinent consideration; physically, she could be anything from eighteen to twenty-four, but her self-confidence and maturity were telling. He’d pegged her at twenty-three.
    The General had now told him Dillon was twenty-two, which meant if Flick was two years younger, then she was