Chapter 15

Lori bit her lip and glared across at Lord Severn, unable to tell whether or not he was jesting. Not about Lori looking like a whore of yore—that was indisputable—but about telling her the truth regarding the mutineers. Would he really talk to her openly and honestly about such a matter?

Don’t be a ninny! His only object is to get you away from the docks with as little fuss as possible. The last thing the man wants is for any of tonight to end up as food for some newspaper article.

Lori could accept that Severn did not want to be embroiled in scandal, but she did not believe that was all that motivated him. She’d seen in his eyes that he was also genuinely concerned for her safety.

She would never admit it aloud, but Severn was justified in excoriating her behavior tonight as dangerous and foolhardy.

The worst part about being trapped in that alley with her monstrous assailant hadn’t been the groping Lori had endured. It had been the knowledge that she was responsible for her situation.

She should have known the man was trouble when he approached her claiming to have information about Lord Severn and his dealings with a mutineer from the Sea Ranger.

Rather than ask how he knew that she wasn’t the whore she was pretending to be, Lori had gone along with him as trustingly as a lamb to slaughter. Instead of waiting for Ella—who’d stepped out a short time before to do a bit-o-business —she had followed the huge brute out to a dimly lighted alley, desperate to learn what he knew.

Nothing. That was what he’d known. At least nothing about Severn. But he had known plenty about Lori, including the story she was working on. During their terrifying, but brief, scuffle she had wondered if Lord Severn had been the brute’s employer.

Lori had been ashamed by the thought when the man himself had come along and rescued her. Rather than thank him, she had immediately commenced brangling once he’d driven off her captor.

She frowned, suddenly conscious of the astounding coincidence of his arrival.

What in the world had brought Severn to the exact spot at the exact time that she’d been there?

“Come, come, Lorelei.” His voice jolted her from her unpleasant thoughts. “If you don’t tell me what you are doing here, then I’ll send my men out. They will quickly discover what you were asking about.” He lightly squeezed her hands, reminding her that he still held them.

Lori jerked her fingers from his grasp, strangely hurt when he allowed her to do so. “What are you doing here?”

“I live down here.”

Lori blinked. Well, that was true.

“I’ve answered your question; now it is your turn, Lorelei.”

She decided to ignore his use of her name. “I am still curious about the mutineer or mutineers you picked up.”

“And I’m still curious about who told you such a thing?”

Lori considered reminding him that she couldn’t expose her sources but decided—with his offer of a few moments before still on the table—that maybe sharing a bit of information might show good faith on her part. “I honestly do not know who it was, my lord. All I do know is that Mr. Parker received a letter on the subject. And—and I believe the sender was anonymous, although I would not swear as to that last part.”

“Is that all it takes to make something newsworthy? A letter—and an anonymous one, at that? Perhaps I should send a letter claiming that I saw Parker abetting mutineers?”

Lori didn’t blame him for his bitterness. She, too, thought David was chasing his tail with this story. But she also needed this job, so…

“I agree that some of the information my employer chooses to act upon is… vague. But you must admit that this accusation is rather specific. And it seems bizarre that it has arisen from nothing. It brings to mind that old adage about smoke and fire.”

Instead of the hot denial that she had anticipated, he turned and stared out the widow, his profile carved from stone.

Lori felt a flutter of excitement. “There is something to it, isn’t there?”

“I think all this prying you’re doing on Parker’s behalf is putting you in danger.”

She’d begun to suspect the very same thing back in that alleyway. “How funny you should say so. I was thinking the same thing.”

He turned and fixed her with a look of disgust. “You think I am the one who sent that brute to—”

“I don’t think that,” she hastily assured him, realizing as she said it that it was true. When he merely stared moodily, she smiled and added, “If you wanted to abduct somebody, you would do it yourself, not send a minion.”

There was a slight thawing in his eyes at her words, but he did not speak.

“You must understand that I can’t stop investigating this story? Especially not now that I know I must be close to something.” Even though it scared her. “Until tonight, I’d not believed that Parker’s source could possibly be correct. That man back in the alley makes me believe I must be on to something. You mentioned talking to me earlier—was that all a jest?”

Lord Severn heaved a sigh. “No, it was not. I’ll talk to you, but I want you to give me your word that Parker doesn’t know I’m the one who gave you the information.”

Lori’s pulse sped. “I promise.”

His eyebrows rose. “You didn’t give that much thought. Are you sure?”

Could she write a story and withhold the name of her source from her employer?

Before she could answer, the carriage rolled to a stop.

“We’re here,” Lord Severn said, opening the door, hopping out, and flipping down the steps before offering her his hand. When she hesitated, he said, “I thought you wanted to talk to me?”

Lori eyed the brothel and recalled her last humiliating visit. “I do. It’s just that I thought we might have this discussion… elsewhere.”

“Like where? Back at the Virgin Queen ?”

“No, of course not. Just—”

“Do you want your story or not?”

Her gaze slid to the building looming behind him.

He laughed at her hesitation. “Has the intrepid Miss Fontenot suddenly turned craven?”

“Quit trying to manipulate me,” she snapped. “Do you give me your word that you will tell me the truth?”

“I promise that everything I tell you will be the truth.”

Something about his careful wording made her pause.

“I will make it worth your time,” he added.

“Fine. I’ll come inside. You’d better not be toying with me,” she added and hopped out, ignoring his hand.

***

Lori glanced around the room, surprised by the quiet elegance of the décor. The walls were covered in crème silk and the furniture upholstered in a coffee brown leather that looked both supple and well-worn. It was the sort of room one would expect to find in an aristocrat’s house, not in a brothel beside the Thames.

And it was nothing like the room she’d visited last time, that erotic bower where she’d briefly witnessed his lordship in the midst of pleasure.

Lori experienced the annoying clenching between her thighs that always assaulted her whenever she thought about that night.

“What is wrong?” Severn asked, as if he possessed a sixth sense that alerted him when a woman was entertaining thoughts of him. “You look like you just sucked on a lemon.”

“Nothing is wrong,” she snapped.

He lifted his eyebrows at her hostile reply.

Lori forced a civil tone into her voice. “It is just that this room is very… different from the last one.”

“Do you want to go to the last one?”

“Absolutely not!” she retorted, and then noticed the smile lurking in his pale eyes. “Very droll, my lord.”

He merely pulled the servant cord, and then gestured to a table with several decanters and asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

He poured two glasses without comment.

“So…what is this room?”

“Part of my living quarters—a study of sorts.” His eyelids lowered slightly. “You’ve already visited my bedchamber.”

“I like this décor a great deal more,” she said, refusing to be drawn.

He hesitated, and then said, “I have had this room made over to suit my taste.”

“Hmmm.”

“You think the red, black, and gold bedchamber more suitable for a man of my sort?”

Lori didn’t, but she needed to get her jabs in where she could, so she said, “You looked very much at home in that other room.”

He chuckled and held out her glass. “Here. Sip it slowly as you are unaccustomed to it.”

“How do you know what I’m accustomed to?”

“Do you drink whiskey often?”

She met his amused gaze, and an answering smile formed on her own lips before she could stop it. “No. This is the first time.” As tempted as she was to be a contrarian and toss the contents back in one gulp, she wisely took a small sip.

“Well?” he asked.

“It is surprisingly pleasant and invigorating, but not something one should quaff.”

He laughed. “Quite true.”

“Tell me about the mutineers, my lord.”

Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Saved by the bell,” he said lightly. “Come in.”

The door opened and a maid hovered on the threshold. “You rang, my lord?”

“My guest has a rather nasty scratch. Please bring some hot water and something to clean and bind the wound.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The instant the door closed Lori said, “You were talking about the mutiny, my lord.”

He grinned, took a drink, and then absently turned the cut crystal around and around with surprisingly elegant fingers for such a large man. “What do you know about the mutiny itself?”

“The ship was a frigate—one of the fifth class, so a smaller ship. She had a crew of approximately one hundred and seventy. There were fewer than a dozen marines and none of them took action against the mutineers when the violence began. The core leadership of the mutiny was thought to number about twenty-five or thirty men. They comprised the group that killed the captain and all but three of his officers. They then sailed the ship to Spanish controlled waters and turned the vessel over to the authorities. They claimed to have put the captain and his officers on a lifeboat which they set adrift. That lie didn’t hold up for long as there were so many survivors. The Spanish re-christened the ship and twenty-five of the original crew stayed on. Since then, a system of rewards has led to the capture of thirty-five of the crew. Of those, twenty-four were hanged. Obviously, there is still a large number of the conspirators at large.”

His eyebrows had crept higher as she’d spoken. “You have an astoundingly detailed memory.”

She shrugged off the compliment. “The subject is fresh in my mind as I recently read all the newspaper accounts at the Times .”

“What do you know about Captain Pigot?”

“He was considered a harsh captain by—”

Severn gave a bitter laugh. “Harsh. That’s one way to describe him.”

“If you know more, please tell me. I am only sharing what I’ve read.”

“Did you know he had ordered eighty-five floggings on that one journey alone.”

“ Eighty-five ? Surely that must be… excessive.”

“It is extremely excessive,” he agreed grimly. “Of those eighty-five men, two died of their punishment.”

“That is truly barbaric—and surely criminal,” Lori said, feeling vaguely ill. She met his brooding gaze, her eyes widening when she deciphered his expression. “Good Lord. You believe the mutiny was justified!”

“I met the man once in Baltimore,” he said, ignoring her question. “He was holding a court of sorts on the deck of his ship. He had a midshipman named Davis before him on his knees—as if it were some sort of biblical tribunal—and was trying to force the man to publicly beg forgiveness for some infraction or other. When Davis refused, Pigot had him bound to the whipping post and personally administered twelve lashes. As if that wasn’t enough, he also disrated the man. Do you know what disrating means?”

“It means his career in the navy would essentially be over. But I ask you again: is that a reason to mutiny?”

“That is not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“Pigot demonstrated a cruel capriciousness that made life for the men serving beneath him a daily terror. Do you know what Davis—an experienced junior officer by all accounts—had done to incur Pigot’s wrath?”

“No.”

“Pigot noticed that a sail had not been secured properly by one of the sailors under Davis's supervision. He confronted Davis with the infraction and Davis apologized and took responsibility for his subordinate’s actions himself. And for that, his life was ruined.”

“Pigot was undeniably a horror, my lord, but I’m not sure that justifies the crime of treason, not to mention several murders.”

“As far as the law is concerned it certainly doesn’t.” He shrugged and drank deeply from his glass before saying, “But I have my own code.”

“And what does your code dictate?”

He fixed her with a piercing look. “I collected some of the mutineers—I refuse to disclose the number to you, Miss Fontenot, so do not ask—and transported them to a neutral location.”

Lori’s jaw sagged. “So Parker’s informant wasn’t lying at all.”

“It is true that your anonymous correspondent might know a thing or two,” he conceded, and then set down his glass with an audible thump and leaned toward her. “So, I have answered some of your questions. Now I have one for you : what is the name of the person feeding all this information to Parker?”

The hairs on the back of her neck lifted at the quiet menace in his voice. It was the same voice he’d used in the alleyway earlier that night, but now it was directed at her. Lori suddenly understood why that hulking brute had capitulated so quickly. “I told you already: I do not know,” she said in an admirably level voice.

“But you could find—”

A brief knock interrupted him, and an expression of vexation settled onto his stern features before he barked out, “Come!”

Lori met his gaze as a maid entered the room and forced an arch smile before echoing his earlier words, “Saved by the bell, my lord.”