Though she hadn't seen the flash of fury in his eyes, she could see him tense and so she felt her own body do the same despite the nausea that threatened to come back. Her eyes flickered back up to the sign and a seed of doubt planted itself into the pit of her stomach. What if Papa was wrong, and she'd just accused him of something horribly lecherous? He'd saved her, of that there was no doubt.

It was almost worse that he took his time answering. Rowan could only hear herself breathing, could see the condensation of her breath hanging in the air in large clouds. She watched his eyes rake over the dwindling figures in the street, likely for some sign of Splitters' men.

His response landed in front of her and she immediately knew it for what it was. A challenge in the form of a shell that would explode in her face either way she tried to avoid it. He was infuriating. This was infuriating. He may have had more money than her entire family but, despite all that her father had done to their family, there was no way she would be tricked into believing that he was a liar.

But damn Malfoy to hell, the withering stare he cast her way nearly had her convinced that she'd accused him of something he wasn't guilty of. Even though her resolve on the matter had only hardened, she wasn't about to make this easier for him. "Oh, I do apologize Mr. Malfoy," She snapped. "Were you hoping to take your charity case for a night on the town and show everyone just how benevolent you can be?" Her voice hardened, and her hands had balled up into fists.

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