De Courcy threw back his head and laughed, unheeding and indeed unnoticing the angry colour mounting in a face that had grown suddenly stern.
“My dear comrade, there are other relationships between a young man and a handsome woman than the ties of kinship. But those days are long past, and I should never have recalled them had it not been that you two have been travelling about the country together, I make no doubt, with an innocence that recalls the sylvan days of yore.”
Armstrong pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.
“Sir, the lady took her brother’s place, he being unexpectedly and grievously wounded. My position has been that of true comrade to her.”
“That is precisely what I have said. I said your journey was one of Arcadian innocence.”
“Those were your words, but your tone bears a meaning I resent.”
“You are quite in error. I will say no more about her.”
“You have already said too much or too little. Tell me in plain words what this relationship was to which you have referred.”
“First answer me a question. Are you betrothed to Frances Wentworth?”
“No. I told you I acted the brother’s part toward her in this journey.”