Chapter 27

The fury that had blazed up inside him at her words died away almost as fast as it had flared, replaced by an icy calm. He had experienced the same phenomenon in the past, but only when his ship had engaged in a skirmish with another vessel.

Fast refused to capitulate to the primitive response. He had already frightened Lorelei, if he gave in to his berserker rage, she would be terrified.

And so Fast inhaled deeply, held it a moment, and then exhaled and said, “Go on,” his voice neither hot nor cold. Just… flat.

She regarded him through anxious eyes, like an animal preparing to flee.

“I’m not angry with you, Lorelei.”

“I know.”

“But I want to hear all you know about this. Including who told you.”

She licked her lips nervously.

“Don’t worry; I won’t punish the messenger.”

“The woman who told me is Martha Sheldon.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“I met her weeks ago, when I went up to your family’s estate.”

Fast frowned. “And you’ve known the truth all this time?” Again, anger crept into his voice. This time it was almost overwhelmed by disbelief.

“No. She refused to talk to me. Then. She came here to see me five days ago.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand. How would she have known to find you here, of all places?”

“She is, er, involved with one of your men—she met him when you went to your grandfather’s estate.”

“Who?” he demanded.

“You promised not to punish anyone.”

“I didn’t know my own damned crew was covered by that promise!”

She flinched, making him realize he was shouting again.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Who is it?”

“Rufus.”

Fast stared unseeingly, a series of images flickering through his head—Rufus laughing and chatting with Martha, who lived on his grandfather’s estate. Bloody hell!”

“You look angry.”

“I gave my word not to exact retribution, and I will keep it.” He wouldn’t sack or thrash the loose lipped idiot, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give him a proper bollocking. “Just tell me the rest of it.”

“Martha said that the very day that she, er, laid with your brother, Lord Moreland—or Bevil Norman as he was evidently called back then before he inherited his title—cornered her.” She swallowed, her face taut. “I know he is your friend—”

“Never mind about that. Just tell me.” He forced the words through gritted teeth, struggling to remain calm.

“She said that Moreland…forced her.”

“He raped her,” he repeated flatly.

“Yes.”

“And you believe her?”

“I do. She said that he threatened to destroy her family if she said a word to your brother. Evidently her father was a tenant farmer on Moreland’s father’s land back then. At least that is what it sounded like.”

Fast nodded. “Yes. Moreland’s father—John Norman—wasn’t an earl. The current holder of the title, Bevil Norman, only inherited when the three men who stood between him and the earldom died.” Three deaths that Fast was quickly beginning to suspect had not been accidents. “In any case,” he went on, “John Norman had been the biggest landowner in the area, after my grandfather, but the feckless fool lost everything at a card table shortly before my brother’s death.” Fast seethed at the memory. “Percy was so sorry for Bevil—for losing everything—that he convinced our grandfather to use his influence to get him a position at the Home Office.” And Moreland thanked Percy for his kindness by having him killed.

“Fast?”

He blinked and looked up through a haze of red.

“Is—are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said roughly, unclenching his fists, and picking up the thread of her story. “And so Martha was only with Percy that one time?”

She swallowed. “Er, no. Moreland ordered her to continue seeing Lord Perseverance. He said that she should do nothing to make him suspicious. If she did, then Moreland, would make her family suffer.”

Fast had no words.

Lorelei stared at him a moment, and then went on. “She continued to have sexual relations with both men and became pregnant. When she approached Moreland, he came the ugly with her and said he’d accuse her of lying if she tried to blame the child on him. He told her to go to your brother—that Lord Percy was a soft-hearted f-fool,” she stopped and eyed him nervously before adding, “And that he would claim the child.”

Fast bristled at Moreland’s dismissive insult, but shoved down his rage and said, “Go on.”

“She was scared of lying to your brother, but she didn’t know what else to do. Evidently Lord Percy saw no reason to disbelieve her. But before he could make arrangements for the child you stepped in. Martha felt guilty about the lie, but she kept her mouth shut because Bevil Norman terrified her.”

“So, why did she come to you? And why now?”

“Because she met Alice Knoll.”

“Christ,” Fast muttered, shaking his head. “The mother of my brother’s second child. Let me guess, the two women compared stories and found some similarities?”

She nodded. “Once they’d discovered that he had done the same thing twice, it didn’t take much imagination to think he’d done it to the other three women.” She grimly met Fast’s gaze. “All five women had the same story.”

“Why did Martha tell you this?”

Her forehead creased and she shook her head, visibly perplexed. “I’m not really sure. I think part of it was that she’d read about how you helped to destroy the child slavery ring. And then of course Rufus told her about all the good you did at The King’s Purse.” She shrugged. “I suspect she simply felt guilty for taking your money for a child that might not even be related to you. I think she wanted to confess the truth to somebody. And of course, I encouraged them to confide in me by promising to keep all five women’s names a secret.”

Fast couldn’t help raising his eyebrows at that.

“I know, I know—not much of a journalist, am I?”

Fast didn’t know what to say to that, but he knew he had to say something . “You’ve said that before, Lorelei. I just don’t think it is true. You are persistent and inventive and you’ve protected Parker’s sources for him. I think sometimes, life is not just black or white, love. I’m sorry you gave your word and broke it, but I will never use the information you gave me against those women. Now Moreland , on the other hand…It was a bloody shame a person couldn’t be killed more than once.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice small and somber.

Fast nodded, his mind racing in at least three directions.

“Fast?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you think Moreland would have done something like that?”

Fast had been wondering the same thing himself.

“Could it all have been envy?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Everyone I spoke to talked about what close friends the three of you were—all the way from boyhood.”

A sick picture was slowly coalescing in his mind’s eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

Even if he could get his hands on Albert Jensen’s confession it wouldn’t tell him why Bevil had done what he’d done. Nothing would tell him except the man, himself.

Gregg’s notion of taking apart Moreland’s life piece by piece—making him poor and shaming him—was all well and good when it came to making him suffer slowly. But Fast would never get the truth out of Moreland by wrecking him financially.

He wanted answers. And the only way to get those was with his bare hands.

Fast realized he was seething again and forced his emotions back into the boiling, bubbling pot of rage where he’d kept them ever since he’d learned that Bevil Norman was the man who’d murdered Percy. He slammed the lid on the cauldron nice and tight.

And then he exhaled slowly and looked up and smiled at Lorelei. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“I understand. You have every right to be angry.”

He reached out and took her hand and kissed the slightly wrinkled tips of her fingers. “The water’s getting cool. Shall we get out and dress for dinner?”

“Isn’t it a bit early?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing that dress on you.”

She pursed her lips and flushed. Fast could see she was still uncomfortable with the idea of expensive gifts, but he could live with that. For now.

He stood and then took her hands and lifted her to her feet, until their wet bodies were pressed tightly together. “Besides,” he murmured, kissing the top of her damp head, “the sooner we have dinner, the sooner I can strip the gown off you and carry you back to bed.”