"We've located him, yes." His gaze swept her consideringly. "Gillies is currently doing the honors, with strict instructions to miss nothing. If you'd consent to get properly dressed, perhaps we might confer in more conventional style?"
She raised her brows in question.
His smile-a teasing, alluring temptation to dalliance- flashed. "Go home and change. I'll call at eleven and take you for a tool about the lanes."
"Perfect-we can discuss how best to go on without any risk of being overheard." Flick turned the cob and urged him back toward the cottage. "I'll be ready at eleven."
Her voice floated back to Demon., The reins lax in his hands, he sat in the strengthening sunshine, watching her bob away from him. His smile deepening, he flicked the reins and set his curricle slowly rolling in her wake.
As promised, she was ready and waiting, a vision in mull muslin, a parasol shading her complexion, when he drew his horses to a scrunching halt before the front steps of Hillgate End.
Tying off his reins, he stepped down from the curricle. Face alight, a soft smile on her lips, she eagerly approached. She was too slender to bustle-her movement was more a sweeping glide. Demon watched her advance, his every faculty riveted, effortlessly held in thrall.
Luckily, she didn't know it-she had no idea. Secure in that knowledge, he returned her smile. Taking her hand, he bowed elegantly and handed her up to the box seat. She shuffled across; as he turned to follow, Demon caught sight of a maid hovering by the steps. "I'll return Miss Parteger later in the afternoon-you might mention that to Jacobs."
"Yes, sir." The maid bobbed a curtsy.
Climbing up, he took his seat and met Flick's questioning glance. "Mrs. Shephard packed a hamper so we won't need to return for lunch."
Her eyes widened, then she nodded. "It's turning into a lovely day-a picnic is a very good idea."
Clicking the reins, Demon set the bays pacing, omitting to mention just whose idea it had been.
As he turned out of the drive and the horses stepped out, Flick angled her parasol and glanced at him. "I take it your men located our quarry?"
Demon nodded, taking the turn to Dullingham in style. "He's staying at the Ox and Plough."
"The Ox and Plough?" Flick frowned. "I don't think I know it."
"There's no reason you would. It's a seedy little inn off the main road north of Newmarket."
"Did your man learn the contact's name?"
"He goes by the unenviable name of Bletchley."
"And he's a Londoner?"
"From his accent, that much seems certain." Demon slowed his horses as the hamlet of Dullingham came into view. "Gillies is prepared to swear an oath that Bletchley was born within hearing of Bow bells."
"Which suggests," Flick said, turning impulsively to him, "that the syndicate is London-based."
"That was always on the cards. The most likely base for a group of rich and greedy gentlemen is London, after all."
"Hmm."
When Flick ventured nothing more, Demon glanced at her. She was frowning absentmindedly, her gaze unseeing. It wasn't hard to follow her thoughts. She was considering the syndicate, and the possible need to journey to London to unmask them.
He left her undisturbed, content with her abstraction. As the cottages of Dullingham fell behind, he kept the bays to a steady trot, searching the hedges lining the roadway for the small lane he remembered from years gone by. It appeared on his left; he slowed and turned the bays.
The lane was deeply rutted; despite the strong springs of the carriage, the rocking jerked Flick to attention. Grabbing the front rail, she blinked and looked around. "Good heavens. Where-oh! How lovely!"
Demon smiled. "It is a pretty spot."
The lane dwindled to a track; turning the bays onto a stretch of grass, he reined in. "We'll leave the carriage here." He nodded to where willows, lit by the sun, hung catkin-draped limbs over a rippling stream. The babble of the brook filled the rustic stillness; sunlight flashed off the water, shooting rainbows through the air. Between the willows, an expanse of lush grass beckoned. "We can spread the rug by the stream and enjoy the sunshine."
"Oh, yes! I didn't even know this place existed."
Alighting, he handed Flick down, then retrieved the well-stocked luncheon basket and a large plaid rug from the boot. Flick relieved him of the rug; holding it in her arms, she strolled beside him to the grassy bank.