Chapter 26

Fast told himself not to feel like she’d just slapped his face. He’d known all along that she had a proud, prickly side. Evidently the gift giving had brought that out in her.

She came toward him slowly, and with an entirely un-Lorelei-like hesitancy in her step. “I’m sorry, Fast.”

The sense of ill-use he’d been feeling disappeared at her abashed expression. “Come here, you darling hedgehog.” He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She came willingly, all but flinging herself at him, her soft body as taut as a bow. Fast stroked her back and held her close. “You are trembling! What is wrong, my love?”

“I have to tell you something embarrassing.” Her words were muffled as she spoke them into his coat. When Fast tried to move back so he could look at her, she shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to see me when I say this.”

“Very well. I’m listening,” he said, resuming his stroking.

“I was a tomboy when I was a girl. In fact, until I was thirteen, I refused to accept that I wasn’t just another boy.

Fast smiled, easily imagining a younger, more coltish, version of Lorelei. “What happened at thirteen.”

“I grew breasts.”

She sounded so woeful that he was glad he hadn’t laughed.

Her arms, which had been tight around him like bands of wire, loosened and she set her hands on his hips and moved back enough that she could tilt her face and see his. “You probably think that is amusing.”

“I think I’m glad you grew them, but I can certainly understand how it made it difficult for you to be just another lad.”

“I still tried, but it became more and more difficult to fit in with the group of boys who’d been my playmates. When I turned sixteen my sister-in-law, who’d all but raised me, convinced me to go to a dance—ball is too grand a word—at the local squire’s house.” She chewed on her plump lower lip, her expression pensive as her gaze slid again to his. “The boys who’d been ignoring me suddenly noticed me.”

Fast’s hands tightened on her slender waist; he would just bet they did.

“To make a not very interesting but intensely mortifying story shorter, the local lord’s son—I don’t want to use his real name, so I’ll call him William —singled me out for attention. William was the leader of the group I’d always tagged after, so it was something of an honor to gain his notice. At first it was just small things he did to distinguish me. He brought me some boiled sweets, or a book I wanted but couldn’t afford, things of that nature.”

Again, she chewed her lip, this time so viciously that he wanted to stop her before she hurt herself, but he didn’t want to interrupt whatever was so difficult for her to say.

“My brother kept only one old horse—a relic of his youth—in his small stables and allowed me to ride the poor beast. When poor Dancer came up lame on one of my rambles, William said that it would be no bother to mount me from his father’s stables. His lordship breeds horses and had more than his family could use at any given time.

Not convinced by William’s offer, my brother approached his father. His lordship very kindly said I would be doing him a favor by riding one of his horses as he’d otherwise need to have one of his grooms exercise the animal. Yet still my brother wasn’t comfortable accepting such an offer.” Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I now know exactly why that was, but at the time I begged and pleaded and badgered poor Jeremy.” She cut Fast a guilty look. “I was a little toad and essentially shamed him into granting his permission by not so subtly hinting that I should not suffer for his inability to buy me a proper horse.”

She inhaled deeply, and then went on, “William and I were childhood friends who’d always ridden together, usually in a group with other neighborhood children. The only difference was that I now rode a horse from his father’s stables.”

Fast’s stomach tightened when she paused. He slid a hand around her jaw and tilted her face to his. “You don’t need to tell me this if you don’t wish to, Lorelei.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, but…I want you to know why I am so wary of men.”

He nodded, but the unease in his belly grew even worse at her words.

“More and more when we rode out William managed to separate me from the others. I felt some unease about what we did—a bit of touching—but…he told me that he loved me—that he wanted us to be together and was only waiting until his last term at Eton was over to divulge the truth about us to his father.”

Her hands idly caressed Fast’s hips in a way that he would have enjoyed if he’d not dreaded where this story was headed.

“You became lovers,” he said, hoping to save her some pain.

She snorted. “I don’t think the clumsy, hurried, and ultimately humiliating fumblings we engaged in made us lovers .”

His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Lorelei, did he—”

“He didn’t force me. Everything I did with him, I did willingly. If I sound bitter, it’s only because I regret being so foolish and believing that he ever loved me.”

I am falling in love with you…

Fast’s words from the night before came back to him, and he suddenly understood why she was telling him this story.

“It’s not foolishness to seek love and affection, Lorelei. It just means you are human. For anyone—a man or a woman—to use the promise of love to get what they want is…well, it’s reprehensible.”

But Lorelei did not seem to hear him, her eyes vague as she stared into her past. “I engaged in sex with him not just once, but several times. The worst part of it was that I never even enjoyed it, but I kept doing it to please him.” She frowned and gulped, blinking rapidly. “Actually, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst was that I continued meeting him, even when it was clear that he’d lost interest in me. I only did so because I knew that when I stopped, that would be the end of all my so-called friendship with not only him, but the rest of the group.” She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “As if any of them were worth it.”

Fast grimaced. “Good God. Please tell me he did not—”

“He did—he told them what we had been doing.” Her voice broke on the last word and two fat tears slid down her cheeks.

“Oh, Lorelei,” he murmured, stroking her back.

Lori angrily brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. “I have no idea why I’m crying now.”

Fast pulled her close, holding her so tightly it had to be painful. But Lorelei just burrowed closer.

“It was so humiliating, Fast.”

“You were an innocent trusting girl, and he took advantage of your generous heart, Lorelei. He behaved like a selfish arsehole.”

She gave a watery gurgle of laughter. “You are the first person I’ve ever told—I never even confessed it to Freddie. I wanted to tell my brother because I hated seeing how William smirked and simpered and behaved as if he were an angel in Jeremy’s presence. But I couldn’t say anything,” she said, the words hot puffs of air against his throat. “My brother owes his living to William’s father, and I was afraid of what Jeremy might do if he found out,” she said, her voice choked. “And the worst part of all was that he became betrothed a scant two weeks after he finished with me. He had never cared for me—he’d known all along he would marry somebody else. I hated him so much, Fast, but I was far angrier at myself for being so stupid. My brother knew something had happened when I stopped riding his lordship’s horses and stopped seeing William or any of the others, all of whom had been sniggering behind my back for weeks, laughing about the vicar’s whore of a sister who’d been spreading her legs for a man who’d tossed her aside like a piece of rubbish to marry somebody better.”

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs and Fast held her while she wept.

***

Lori sniffed tiredly and turned her head to look up at the man who’d held her quietly and patiently throughout her emotional outburst.

“I’m sorry for that,” she said, her voice nasally and eyes watery and no doubt shot with red.

“ Shh ,” he murmured, not pausing his soothing stroking. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

At some point during her emotional storm, he had carried her over to the settee and she’d sobbed out her heart while resting her head in his lap.

“I never cry. It’s been years—not since my mother died,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“There’s no shame in it. Everyone needs a good cry once in a while.”

She chuckled. “Oh really? And when was your last cry, pray?”

“When my brother died.”

Lori gasped. “Oh, Fast! I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“Hush. I know you didn’t mean anything.” He stared down at her, but his magnificent eyes had a blank look in them and she knew he was seeing something else.

“For almost sixteen years I thought I had killed my brother.”

“ What ?”

“Oh, I didn’t hold the gun to his head, but I felt as though I might as well have.” His gaze flickered and then gradually sharpened. “We had a falling out over a woman. It hadn’t been the first time we’d both fancied the same girl, but it was the first time we allowed our emotions to come between us.”

Lori sat up and faced him, taking his hand in hers and waiting patiently.

“Regardless of the fact that Percy was far kinder and had a much sweeter disposition—not to mention that he would inherit the title and everything that went with it—Louisa fell in love with me. Percy was furious when I told him that I’d asked her to marry me, and she’d accepted.” His lips turned down at the corners. “It turned out he had every right to be angry as Louisa had—weeks before and unbeknownst to me—promised to marry him.” He snorted. “Not only that, but while I had been saving myself for our marriage, Louisa and Percy had been lovers for months. I’m not proud to admit that I struck him at that point, hitting him hard enough to knock him unconscious. I was terrified that I’d killed him. I hadn’t, but I had fractured two of his ribs and he had a concussion from the fall.

“My grandfather was furious at me, but nowhere as furious as I was at myself. I confronted Louisa and discovered that Percy had not lied. She claimed that her parents had exerted pressure on her to accept Percy even though it was me she loved. The betrothal was to be kept a secret until her eighteenth birthday. Louisa swore that she was working up to telling them all the truth. And she also admitted that she’d been Percy’s lover the entire time.”

“Oh, Fast,” Lorelei murmured, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t feel too sorry for me, darling. I’m not proud of what I did next; I told her that our betrothal—which wasn’t even a day old—was over. I said that if I had to choose between her or Percy, the decision was easy. I was cruel and I wanted to hurt her. I hope that I would have eventually forgiven her—and apologized for my unkind words—but I never had the chance. Three days later—when Percy was able to leave his bed—he went into the woods and shot himself. Immediately afterward I argued with my grandfather who essentially told me he never wanted to see my face again.”

“And that is why you stayed away all these years?”

“Yes. Until my grandfather wrote asking me to return.” He stared at their joined hands, an unreadable expression on his face.

Just when he looked on the verge of speaking, he seemed to shake himself and look up, his eyes blank as if he’d just woken from a trance.

Lori opened her mouth to ask what had changed—why his grandfather wanted him to return, but all of a sudden Fast released her hands and got to his feet.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To bring your gifts to you, so I can watch you open them.” He carried the boxes back to her and set one on the table and the other in her lap. “Open it,” he ordered, taking the chair across from her.

She gave him a pained look.

“What is it, Lorelei?”

“It’s just that I’ve never given you anything.”

“Oh yes you have. Open your gifts, please.”

***

Fast was bloody grateful that he had snapped out of the powerfully confiding spell that had wrapped around him before he’d blurted out the truth about Bevil Norman and his part in Percy’s death.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but rather because he was so uncertain of what his future held. If he could not bring Moreland to justice in the accepted way, he would kill the man. Something told him that Lorelei would be less than eager to ally herself with a murderer.

Not only was the situation with Moreland a problem, but Fast believed Lorelei when she said she did not wish to marry. If he were given enough time, he knew that he could convince her that spending the rest of their lives together would be worth sacrificing some of her Wollstonecraftian ideals.

And then there was the issue of his grandfather, who would also need a great deal of careful handling. Although the old man was a stickler in many ways, Fast felt sure he could talk him around to his position in the end.

But he could hardly engage in either conversation when he might be a fugitive from the law, wanted for the murder of a peer, before the bloody week was out.

What he needed was some time to sort out one problem before turning to another. Not that being married to Lorelei was a problem. Indeed, he was fairly certain they would deal very well together once they’d got past a few minor hurdles—such as her hatred of the institution of marriage and his grandfather’s near-obsession with a lineage that could be traced back to the Conqueror.

Fast put the matter out of his head for the moment and enjoyed watching his lover open her gifts.

Her cheeks were flushed as she pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box, rustling through the tissue paper before giving a small gasp and lifting a hand to her mouth.

He sat forward in his chair, his eyes fastened to her face. “Do you like it?”

She stroked the gauzy silk fabric, which was the same rich shade of red as the fruit of a pomegranate.

“It is magnificent,” she said, cutting him a quick, shy look. “I’ve never worn this color before.”

“Hold it up in front of yourself so I can see if I chose well. I argued quite fiercely for this color as Madam Thérèse said you couldn’t wear this shade.”

“How did she know what color I—” she broke off. “Ah, she saw me.”

He laughed. “Indeed, she saw far more of you than she liked. I think she was on the verge of capitulating the last time you interrogated her.”

She stood and lifted the silk which flowed like a scarlet waterfall from her hands.

When she held it up, Fast nodded, smugly pleased. “Just as I thought. Go look at yourself in the cheval glass. It is just inside my dressing room.”

“Well?” he called out, when he heard no sound from inside the adjacent room.

She came out slowly, her eyes downcast, her cheeks almost the same red as the gown.

“You don’t like it,” he said flatly.

“I love it. You were right; the color is perfect.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Her eyes, when they finally lifted to his, held an expression of shyness that was foreign on her beautiful face.

He stood and went toward her, cupping her face in both hands. “ You are perfect.” He claimed her mouth, delighted when she returned his kiss with as much passion as he felt. What a dolt this William was that he’d never bothered to kiss this magnificent woman. He felt a flare of rage at the thought of a man abusing her trust so. He would need to find out the identity of the unprincipled cad and—

“Is something wrong, Fast?”

He glanced down at her and smiled. “Nothing except it is past time for you to open the other box.”

She caught her lower lip with her teeth. “It is too much, I can’t—”

“I thought we’d finished with that tedious subject, Lorelei.”

She pursed her lips and inhaled until her lovely breasts pressed enticingly against the thin material of her chemise. “I shall let it rest for now.” She wagged her finger at him. “But don’t buy me anything else.”

“I’ll damned well buy you whatever I please,” he retorted. “I’ve done nothing for the last decade but pile up money like a dragon in his lair. You are the first person I have wanted to spend any of it on. Don’t be selfish. Let me spoil you. Now, open my gift.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and carefully laid the gown over the back of the settee before picking up the smaller box.

When she pulled off the ribbon and lifted the lid, she gave him a wry smile at the lacquer box nestled within the box and lightly stroked the lid. “This looks very old—and beautiful. And it has peacocks on it, which seems to be a theme with you.”

“Open it,” he ordered again.

“So impatient,” she muttered, but lifted the lid. Her head immediately whipped up and yet again she opened her mouth.

Fast knew it wasn’t to say thank you . “Remember. You can argue later.”

She snapped her mouth shut and snorted, shaking her head as she turned her gaze back to the ruby necklace, earrings, and two bracelets in the box. “This is… well, I don’t have words.”

“Who could have envisioned such a day?” he mocked, sotto voce.

She cut him a scowl. “I suspect you paid a fortune for it.”

“It’s rude to speculate on the cost of a gift,” he chided. Fast suspected that she would be astounded if he told her that he had not paid anything at all for the set, which was, indeed, worth a fortune. It had been his mother’s. Not part of the Grandon jewels, but a set that she’d brought to her marriage. She had given it to Fast a few weeks before her death, telling him to give it to a woman he loved, no matter whether he married her, or not. The look on her face as she lay dying had told Fast plenty. He’d always known his parents’ marriage was arranged, but he’d never guessed that his mother had been forced to give up a man she loved to marry Fast’s father.

The jewels had been locked away in the family vault at Grandon Castle since his mother’s death and Fast had fetched them on his way back from Meg’s wretched house party, already imagining how the glittering stones would look with the gown he’d ordered from Madam Thérèse.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Your generosity humbles me. I don’t know what to say.”

Fast took the box from her hands and tossed it aside. He sat down beside on the settee and then lifted her onto his lap. “I don’t want words.” He smiled slyly. “I want you to give me a proper thank you .”

“And what would that be?”

“A kiss.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “That’s all?”

“And also let me put my hand beneath your chemise.”

She laughed and the sound was so warm and uninhibited that it squeezed his heart.

He kissed her hard, as if he could somehow imprint his stamp on her. Bloody hell but he loved this prickly, difficult, never predictable woman.

She broke the kiss and began to stand.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” To his utter delight she swung one knee over his thighs, until she was straddling his lap.

“ Mmm , I like this a great deal, Lorelei.”

She swooped down on him, her mouth hot and demanding as she took control of the kiss. At the same time, she guided his hand under her chemise, which had ridden up her hips. Fast moaned when she placed his palm over her mound and then raised up high on her knees, making herself more accessible.

He didn’t hesitate to accept her invitation and slid a finger between her lower lips. “My God, Lorelei, you’re so wet! Is that for me?”

She nodded primly and then kissed him again. Their tongues jousted lazily, and she nipped and nibbled, teasing him into a frenzy while he stroked the source of her pleasure, until his hand was drenched with her desire.

“Take me out of my breeches, Lorelei,” he murmured against the damp skin of her neck once they’d broken their kiss to draw breath. “I want to be inside you.”

She freed him in seconds, yanking his breeches and drawers down to mid-thigh before closing her hand around him and pumping him with clumsy but firm strokes.

Fast groaned and stared into her darkening eyes while they stimulated each other with hands and fingers.

“Tell me what feels best,” she ordered in a voice that was rough with passion.

“The crown is the most sensitive, and right below it. Wet your palm with my slick and stroke me hard.”

She immediately followed his directions, and he gasped, his hips jerking so hard that his buttocks lifted off the settee. “God, yes! Just like that, darling.”

“I like it when you call me that.”

“I like calling you that.”

She laughed.

“And I really like it when you laugh.”

She bit her lip, as if embarrassed. Why she was embarrassed of laughter and yet fearlessly straddling his lap and fisting his cock was beyond him.

His Lorelei was a puzzle, and it would take years to put all the pieces together. But that was for later, right now he needed her.

“Ride me, Lorelei.” His lips curved into a wicked grin. “Imagine that I am an especially willful horse that needs breaking.”

She choked on a laugh, positioned him at her entrance, and slowly lowered her body.

“Oh God, yes. ” He took her hips and lifted his own body off the settee, thrusting hard enough to lift them both off the cushion. “You feel so damnably delicious that you are destroying my resolve.”

“What resolve?” she teased in a breathy voice, and then gasped and grabbed his shoulders to hold on as he began to buck beneath her.

“My resolve to make this last,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“It is not as if we cannot do it again, is it?”

Her expression was so adorably serious that Fast threw back his head and laughed with pure joy.

***

“Wake up, my sleeping beauty…”

The low, soothing voice caressed Lori like a warm hand.

No…wait, that was a warm hand, caressing up her thigh.

Her eyes sprang open and met a brilliant blue pair mere inches from her own.

“Hello darling,” Fast murmured, kissing her temple and lightly cupping her mound, which reminded her that she was naked.

“Is it morning?” she asked, pulling the bedsheet up to her chin.

He looked amused by the gesture and, after giving her sex a light squeeze, released her. “It is very early and I should not have woken you, but I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” she repeated stupidly.

He pointed across the room.

Lori pushed up onto her elbows and squinted. “Oooh! Where did that come from?” she demanded, looking from the huge steaming copper tub to the man beside her. “I have been dying for a bath!”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand toward the bath.

Lori shoved back the sheet and quickly, before she could lose her nerve, scrambled out of the bed and quickly strode naked across the room, telling herself to ignore the view she must be giving him. Why should she care if he saw her bountiful bottom? He had seen it before, after all.

Lori paused just long enough to dip a toe in the water and then groaned. “It’s perfect,” she said, and then eased first one leg and then the other, into the water before lowering slowly. Only then did she look up at him.

“Why didn’t I know you had this tub?” Lori demanded, greedily surveying his body as he stripped off his shirt and breeches and eased himself in on the opposite end.

“I don’t want to give away all my secrets,” Fast said.

The tub had clearly been built for two people, but probably not with a man of Fast’s dimensions in mind. That meant only Lori could completely stretch, her feet resting on his chest while his knees poked above the water.

It was heaven.

Lori had a sudden sense of unreality. Here she was, lying in a bathtub in a brothel with a man who’d taken her prisoner. She should be angry—she’d certainly raged against her situation enough at the beginning of her captivity—but she couldn’t honestly say she regretted this experience. How could she? Not only had the last twelve hours been among the most enjoyable of her life, but the week before had been one of the most productive seven days of her career.

While the novel that had all but flowed out of her fingers onto the page was not yet fit for print, it was as solid a first draft as any she had ever made. And in only a fraction of the time! Lori did not think she flattered herself that it was better than anything else she had written. The first thing she was going to do when she left The King’s Purse was march into David Parker’s office and demand her manuscript back.

The second thing she was going to do was polish up the book and then submit it herself rather than—

“What are you grinning about over there?” he asked, gently rubbing a soapy cloth between her smallest and second smallest toe.

“You never told me how you got your name?” she said, not wanting to talk about her book.

He cocked his head. “Why do I think that is not what you were thinking about?”

“It wasn’t, but…I don’t want to say what I was thinking about. Don’t worry, it didn’t have to do with you.”

He clutched his heart. “I am crushed.”

She snorted. “You were going to tell me about your name.”

“We were named after a set of twins on my mother’s side.” He smiled. “Puritans, as I’m sure you’ve surmised.”

“So, your mother’s family are Puritans? They must have fought with the Roundheads?”

“I’m sure the first Stand Fast and his brother would have fought with Cromwell had they remained in England, but they’d fled England several years before the war started. My mother was always fascinated by her radical nonconformist ancestors, hence the names.” He moved to the next toe and glanced up at her. “I visited them when I was in Massachusetts, you know.”

Lori frowned. “Them?”

“The descendants of the original Stand Fast and Perseverance. They thrived in America and Makepeace furniture is highly sought after.”

“You are related to those Makepeaces?”

He nodded. “Indeed, I am.”

“Even I—ignoramus though I am in all matters of fashion, sartorial or décor, have heard of them.”

“I am proud to say their goods fill the cargo holds of several of my ships.

“Wait a moment—several? You have several ships?”

He gave her an exaggerated wide-eyed look. “Are you telling me there is something about me that you don’t know?”

“I suspect there is a great deal I don’t know about you,” she said dryly.

He merely smiled and occupied himself with washing her arch and heel.

Lori closed her eyes and let her head rest against the sloped tub. She was so relaxed that she could have fallen asleep if not for the ugly secret still weighing down on her like a pallet of bricks.

Perhaps you don’t need to tell him the truth? He has taken care of those children knowing they aren’t his. Can this information really make any difference?

But it would make a difference, that’s why she feared telling him so badly. Aristocratic men were prickly about matters of pride—insanely, murderously so—and it was entirely within the realm of possibility that Fast would demand some sort of satisfaction on his brother’s behalf.

Lori chewed her lower lip, torn.

“What is bothering you, Lorelei?”

She opened her eyes. “How do you know something is bothering me?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “You should never, ever try your luck at a card table. Your every thought flits across your face.”

She sighed.

“Out with it.”

“It is about your brother’s children—and it is not pleasant,” she warned.

He paused his ablutions and fixed her with a suddenly frosty stare. “Have you already sold the story about Percy’s illegitimate children?”

“Of course not!”

He grunted. “Then nothing else will bother me.”

Lori seriously doubted that.

“Tell me,” he barked.

“Do you always give orders?”

“Most of the time.”

“And people just jump to obey them.”

“You tell me.” His lip pulled up on one side, his heavy-lidded look reminding her of the way Lori herself had instantly obeyed him on more than one occasion…when the command was an erotic one.

Lori tried to scowl at him but failed miserably. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you blush more than any woman I’ve ever met.”

“I know. And I hate it.”

“I don’t. Now, tell me what is bothering you.”

She heaved a sigh. “I want you to promise me something before I tell you.”

His eyebrows pulled down over his nose, making him look even fiercer than usual. “I don’t like this game, Lorelei.”

“It’s not a game. And I’ll only tell you if you promise me first.”

“Promise you what?” he asked in that menacing tone that gave her shivers.

“Promise me that you won’t sack any of the people who spoke to me—and gave me information.”

The corner of his mouth ticced, but he jerked out a nod. “I give you my word.”

“And also promise you won’t fight in any duels over what I tell you.”

His expression turned to one of comical confusion. “Why would you think I’d engage in a duel?”

“I’ve read about the things you used to do.”

“That was almost twenty years ago!”

“Then it shouldn’t be difficult to promise me now .”

The muscles in his jaw knotted. “You know something so—so heinous that you think I might engage in a duel?”

Lori couldn’t believe how hard it was to meet his gaze when he had that wall-of-ice expression on his face. “The subject is a…volatile one.”

He pushed up from the tub so suddenly that he sent water flooding over the side.

“Fine! I give you my word that I shan’t go out and get in a duel. Now tell me ,” he demanded, towering over her.

She took a deep breath before for saying. “You are frightening me.”

The chagrin on his face was immediate. “I’m sorry,” he said tightly, lowering back into the tub, his posture no longer relaxed. “You must know that I would not hurt you. I’ve never laid a finger on any woman in anger in my entire life.”

“I know. But fear is not always rational. And…and I know this will be unpleasant.”

His jaws flexed—as if he were biting down on something—but he merely squeezed the water from the washcloth and draped it over the tub before saying, “Go on.”

“The woman who told me about your brother told me something else, too.” She swallowed. “She said that she’d also had sexual relations with Lord Moreland. She said he wasn’t an earl back then, just the son of an impoverished landowner.”

Lori didn’t think it was her imagination that he’d gone pale beneath his normally glowing tan. “Are you saying one of those children might be Moreland’s.”

Lori pulled her lips between her teeth, mentally girding herself for what she was about to say.

“Not just one of them. All five of them.”