Chapter 31

“Viscount Severn is here to see Lori ?” Jeremy repeated before Lori could respond.

Sarah nodded vigorously. “Yes.” She stuck out her hand and Lori saw there was a card in her palm.

Jeremy turned to Lori, his eyes bulging. “Good Lord, Lori! You know Severn ?”

Lori was startled by her brother’s use of the Lord’s name and met his shocked gaze with a guilty shrug. “Yes.”

His eyebrows lowered and she could see that there would be questions—many of them.

But not now.

Lori lurched to her feet. “I will go speak to him.”

“But Lori!”

She stopped and turned at Sarah’s raised voice. “Yes?”

“Er, don’t you want to tidy your hair?”

Lori glanced in the small mirror beside the door and scowled at her reflection. She had a tendency to pluck at her hair absently when she wrote. She looked like she’d come away the loser in a wrestling match with a hedge.

“No, it is fine.”

Her sister-in-law gasped. “Surely you want to change your gown!”

Lori glanced down at herself, as if she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “No, Sarah; Severn can see me as I am.”

“But you are wearing your oldest dress, and it has cherry juice splatters all over it from helping me make jam and—” she broke off when her husband set a hand on her shoulder.

“Sarah, let her be.”

Lori cut Jeremy a quick, grateful look and then strode resolutely down the short hallway.

Only when she reached the staircase and had a moment to herself did she slump against the handrail and exhale the breath she’d been holding.

What in the world was he doing there? And after all this time!

She struggled to calm her breathing.

Had he brought his wife with him? Surely Sarah would have mentioned that. Or possibly not, given how starstruck her sister-in-law had appeared just now.

Lori shoved down her nervousness but kept her anger. He had some nerve showing his face after what he’d done to her.

The murmur of Jeremy and Sarah’s voices behind her interrupted her rapidly snowballing anger. It would have been nice to have a few more minutes to collect her thoughts, but that was not to be, so Lori steeled herself and resumed walking even though her legs felt like jelly.

When she reached what Sarah called the sitting room —really a glorified parlor—she took yet another deep breath and flung open the door. “I can’t imagine what you —” Lori broke off at the sight that met her eyes.

Gwen, her youngest niece, was perched on Fast’s knee and he was holding the girl’s favorite book in his hands.

Fast smiled up at her, his expression one of rueful amusement. “Hello, Lorelei.”

She stared at him blankly for a moment before turning to her niece. “What are you doing in here, Gwennie?” Lori knew that Sarah didn’t allow the children to come into the sitting room unless she accompanied them.

The little charmer smiled winsomely up at Lori, her huge green eyes blinking innocently. “Wode Sevone is weeding Miss Fwuffington to me, Auntie Woahwee.”

“Is he, now?” she asked, her gaze moving from her niece to Fast, who was trying to assume an expression as innocently charming as the tiny girl on his knee and doing an annoyingly fine job of it.

Gwen nodded enthusiastically, her black curls bouncing.

“It’s time for big people to talk now, Gwen.” Lori fixed Fast with an evil stare. “But Wode Sevone will read to you after you have your tea—as many times as you like, in fact. You should run along now as I have it on good authority that there will be cherry scones with cherry jam for—”

“Chawees!” Gwen shrieked, causing Fast, whose ear was not far from her mouth, to jolt and recoil in pain.

Forgetting all about the book, Gwen scrambled from Fast’s lap—inadvertently jabbing him somewhere sensitive, if the ooof ing sound he made was anything to go by.

Lori held the door open wider for the little girl. “Walk, Gwen. No skipping in the house!” she called after her niece.

When Gwen disappeared around the corner, still skipping, Lori shut the door before turning back to Fast, who’d stood now that he didn’t have Gwen on his knee. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the door, scowling. “What are you doing here?”

He held up the book— Miss Henny Fluffington Goes to Market , whose cover had a large, speckled hen wearing a fancy bonnet and carrying a reticule over one wing——and asked, “You wrote this?”

“Don’t avoid my question, my lord.”

He lowered the book—which Lori had indeed written and illustrated and then had bound and printed for her eldest niece years before—and said, “Won’t you sit?”

“I’m happy right where I am. But don’t stand on my account.”

Instead of sitting, he prowled toward her.

“That’s close enough,” she said, not trusting herself to be any nearer to him. “I will repeat myself for the third time: what do you want?”

“You.”

Lori ignored the leaping sensation in her chest. “It is too late for that.”

“I’m not married.”

She sneered. “Came to her senses, did she?”

“I never planned to marry Miss Pascoe.”

“Oh. I see. So… was it she who tricked you? Or perhaps it was her father?”

He sighed. “Won’t you please sit? I have a lot to say, and I’d like to take my time and get it right.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll sit here.” She dropped into the chair nearest the door. “You sit over there.” She pointed to the settee when he would have taken the chair next to her.

He sat without any demur. “I wish you’d not left The King’s Purse and disappeared that day.”

“Oddly enough I didn’t want to wait for you to come back once I’d read about your betrothal in the newspaper.”

He looked hurt, rather than angry. “It’s too bad you didn’t wait, because then you might have learned the truth, Lorelei.”

“Which is?”

“Demelza and I never planned to marry. The only reason I agreed to the betrothal was to help her.”

Lori crossed her arms and stared.

He sighed. “She is in love with another man—a clerk in her father’s counting house. But her father wanted a peer for a son-in-law and refused to approve the marriage. Moreland had already asked Pascoefor permission to court her; if I didn’t help her, her father would have applied unpleasant pressure on her to marry the earl. We—Demelza and I—decided to fake a betrothal just long enough to distract her father. Ever since she confessed her love for his employee, he had kept her imprisoned. She was sure that he would relax his guard if he believed that she’d fallen into line with his wishes.” He paused and gave her a questioning look.

“Go on, I’m still here.”

“I gave her money, because she had none even though she is a great heiress, and Gregg helped her sneak away when she was supposed to be getting fitted for her trousseau. He took her to where her lover—who is now her husband—waited for her, and the two took off to Scotland. When Pascoe was forced to admit that his daughter had absconded, I shamed the truth out of him—that she had only agreed to marry me because he had forced her.” He gave a tiny but smug smile. “I wish you could have seen me, Lorelei. I was quite impressive in my rage. I told him he should be ashamed for trying to auction off his daughter when he knew that she was in love with another man. I ranted about how I would be humiliated if the truth were known. Finally, once my anger began to cool, I said I would spare her—and Pascoe himself—any embarrassment and admit that the betrothal had ended amicably. But I only agreed to do so on one condition. I told him he had to forgive his daughter as I didn’t want to be the cause of a family breach, and I babbled a great deal of claptrap about how I’d been embroiled in a fracas with my own grandfather for two decades.” He cut her a sheepish look. “And I also promised to put his name up for membership at one of the clubs I belong to. I suspect it was really that last thing that persuaded him to forgive her.”

Hope had been fluttering wildly in her chest for at least a minute, but she brutally quashed it. “You expect me to believe that story?”

“Demelza said you’d probably not believe a word of it, so she gave me this.” He reached into his coat and took out a folded sheet of paper, which he held out to her.

Lori snatched it from his fingers and unfolded it.

It was brief:

Dear Miss Fontenot,

I would like to apologize for any trouble my deception caused you. You have been kindness itself to me on the few occasions we’ve met this past Season, and I’d hate to think I hurt you by any of my actions. When Lord Severn told me at the Countess of Mansfield’s house party that he had no intention of offering marriage to me—that he had already given his heart to you—I felt terrible about using him as my means of escape. But he insisted you would understand completely. Neither of us expected my father to make that announcement at his dinner party. In fact, Lord Severn had asked Papa to keep the matter in strictest confidence until he spoke to the Marquess of Grandon about the betrothal—which he never would have done, of course. But my father is a law unto himself and contrived that awkward announcement, making sure it was announced in the newspapers.

Lord Severn told me how you’d read of the betrothal and I can’t imagine how hurt and horrified you must have been! I cannot apologize enough. If I had not begged his lordship to keep our agreement in complete secrecy—for I knew my father had his spies everywhere—then he might have confided the truth in you and you would not have been hurt. Please forgive me and know that Lord Severn has only ever been a gentleman, friend, and savior to me.

Regards,

Demelza Lions, née Pascoe

Lori carefully refolded the letter, her emotions churning.

She felt movement and looked up to find that Fast had taken the chair next to her.

He scooted it closer and took her hand. “Am I forgiven?”

“Why did you wait so long to come here and tell me this?”

He snorted. “Not out of choice, I assure you. It’s… well, yet another long, convoluted story.”

She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms again. “I’m listening.”

***

Lorelei hadn’t yet forgiven him yet, but she was rapidly thawing.

“Before I answer your question about why it took so long, let me go back in time to last year—just after I left here on my final voyage as the Vixen’s captain.”

She nodded.

“I was in a small port town in Venezuela when I encountered a mutineer from the Sea Ranger. ”

“You have told me this before—remember? Although you didn’t say how many mutineers. You picked up only one?”

“I did. And…this will sound astounding, but I knew the man.” He then told her, as simply as possible, about finding Joe Jensen and then discovering he was the brother of the man who’d killed Percy.

“That is an incredible coincidence. My God, Fast! I am astonished that you didn’t kill him on the spot when you found out.”

Fast looked away from her. “I… wasn’t kind to him.”

“I don’t think anyone could blame you for that. If somebody admitted to me that a member of their family had killed Jeremy… well, I would want my pound of flesh, even if the messenger was innocent.”

“I was insane with rage, but Gregg had the sense to restrain me until I could come back to my senses. You see, Jensen’s brother—Albert—had acted at the direction of another man and did so under duress.”

“What do you mean? Did somebody give him money to do it? Who?

“Jensen said his brother wasn’t paid to kill Percy, but that he did it because somebody threatened to destroy his family —specifically Jensen’s two sisters and his mother—if he didn’t comply.”

“Good Lord!”

“Jensen said he would only tell me the real killer’s identity after I’d done something for him. He said he had a signed confession that his brother had written years ago—an insurance policy against the man who made him do the murder, in case he tried to hurt either Albert or his family. As things transpired, the real murderer didn’t wait for Albert Jensen to talk.”

“He had him murdered, too?” Lorelei guessed.

“Close enough. He had both Albert and Joseph press-ganged. The last thing the killer said to them was that if they ever uttered his name to anyone their two sisters and mother would pay for their indiscretion.”

“What a nasty, nasty character.”

“Yes. Especially since he punished the three women, regardless.”

She swallowed. “I’m almost afraid to ask. What did he do?”

“It’s awful, Lorelei. Too awful for your ears.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “I work, er, worked for a newspaper, Fast.”

He held up his hands. “Fine, fine. He sold the girls to a bawd who runs several of the worst establishments in London. The mother he sold to a workhouse.”

She bit her lip, her eyes becoming glassy.

“To make a long, horrible story shorter, Albert sickened and died less than a year later. Joe knew he couldn’t go home—not with the murderer’s threat still clear in his mind—and he resigned himself to never seeing his family again. And then Pigot took over as captain. And you know how that turned out.”

“The poor man,” Lorelei murmured.

“That is not even the worst of it. Jensen had consumption and was dying by the time I picked him up. He had tried to send word to his mother using a mate’s name—so as not to alert the killer, if he were still watching Jensen’s family—but the letter was undeliverable. And then of course the crew mutinied, and he had no chance of getting back to England and looking for them.”

“So you told him you would find them?”

“Yes, in exchange for the confession and his own testimony, although I doubted he’d survive that long. I thought it would be consumption that killed him, but I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Fast sighed. “Everything might have gone along as planned if not for three men on the crew who overheard the conversation with Jensen and decided to stick their hands in. They must have killed him while trying to get the confession from him—although I believe Joe took one of the men with him as only two came to England.” He shrugged. “I will never know what truly happened to poor Joe. But I do know that the men found the confession because they used it to extort money from the killer.”

She shook her head. “This is just so… incredible that I don’t even know what to say. How did you ever unravel it all?”

He gave her a wry smile. “I think you might have been the key to that.”

“Me? But…how?”

“You were poking into matters that led you in the direction of the killer.”

She blinked. “So…then you were not exaggerating when you said I was in danger?”

“No, darling. I was most certainly not.” A familiar wave of nausea assaulted him, just as it did every time he thought about how close he had come to losing her. “The brute who grabbed you in the alley that night was a bloke named Carey, and he worked for the killer and—”

“ Was named?” she broke in. “Is he…dead?”

“Yes, he was murdered later that same night.”

Lorelei reached for Fast’s hand and he clutched it tightly. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Fast.”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I went back and forth about telling you the truth, Lorelei. I just—”

“I understand why you didn’t,” she said, her words surprising him. She gave a wry laugh. “I would have kept digging, Fast. I know that about myself.” She paused, and said, “You mentioned somebody had stolen the confession. Does that mean you never found out who killed your brother?”

“No. I found out who it was through his henchman, Carey. It was Bevil Norman, the Earl of Moreland.”

Her eyes threatened to bulge out of her head. “ What ? That—that cannot be true!”

“It is.”

“But… why ?”

“Because Percy had found out what Bevil did to Louisa.”

She gasped. “You mean—”

“I mean that he did the same thing to her that he did to Martha and the other women,” Fast said.

It took a moment before she could seem to force any words out. “I read that Moreland died in a fire. He didn’t, did he? You never brought any of this before the authorities, did you?”

“How could I?” he asked, ignoring her first question. “I didn’t have the confession, and I didn’t have Joe Jensen. I had nothing. And then there was the fact that Bevil was holding Jensen’s younger sister hostage and threatened to kill her if I refused to meet him—alone. Jensen never got the chance to hand over the confession, but he did set me on the path to finding the killer. I owed it to him to save his sister if I could.”

“So you met a murderer…alone?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling at her thunderstruck expression. “And that meeting was why I wasn’t back in time to wake up with you that morning. Or have dinner with you.”

Her face screwed into an expression of confusion. “But…I don’t understand. This all happened almost a month ago?”

“Yes.”

She huffed. “Tell me about this meeting. All of it.”

Ten minutes later, Lorelei shook her head at him. “That was quite a risk you took meeting him at that remote place. He might have just shot you before you even entered the barn.”

“I knew he wouldn’t. Moreland was too smug—too arrogant. He’d gotten away with murder for too long and wanted to crow about it to somebody. To me. Besides,” he added wryly, “he believed that I’d stolen Demelza from right under his nose at that wretched house party. He wanted the chance to tell me how much pleasure he’d take in snatching her back once he’d killed me.” Fast’s hands flexed, his anger rising. “He took great pleasure in telling me how he’d made Louisa’s life hell.”

He looked up from his unappetizing thoughts to find Lorelei in front of him. She nudged aside his knees and perched on his lap before sliding her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Fast. So terribly sorry.”

He drew her soft, comforting body closer. “I should have never left her to him, Lorelei. I only wish she had told me! If I’d known then what he had done to her—” he broke off and shook his head. “I should have guessed.”

“Why? You couldn’t have known about Moreland and how evil he was and the things he’d done.”

“Is that really true?” Fast asked, the question as much for himself as her. “Or did I willfully ignore the signs of his sickness? It is something I will revisit for the rest of my life. Bevil Norman was the closest to pure evil I’ve ever encountered,” Fast admitted. “And it disturbs me more than I can say that he was ever my friend.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Fast. A man like that was adept at hiding behind his mask. Why would any right-thinking person ever suspect what he was?”

He kissed her and then tightened his arm around her, wincing when her elbow nudged his side.

“What is it, Fast?” Her eyes narrowed. Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing serious, love, just a little graze from the first bullet.”

***

“He shot you?” Lori squawked. “Wait! The first bullet? Just how many bullets were there? And why did you leave this out of the story you just told me?”

Fast winced. “Not so loud in my ear, darling. And yes, Lorelei, he shot me. That’s usually how bullets do their damage.”

“Quit being so cavalier and tell me what happened.”

“Moreland paused too long to gloat, and while he was prosing on at me like a villain from a gothic novel, I threw a knife at him and—”

“He let you have knives?”

He gave her a pained look. “He didn’t let me. He searched me and found the pistols and other knives, but he—”

“A pistol and knives? How many knives did you have?”

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“If you would stop interrupting, then I could finish telling you the story.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She pursed her lips to illustrate her silence.

“He searched me but neglected to find a small knife I had strapped to the inside of my wrist and—”

“A wrist knife? How did you—Oh, sorry,” she blurted again. “I’ll be quiet. I promise,” she added when he cocked his eyebrow in that odiously attractive way he had.

“I was a privateer in my former life, sweetheart. Er, you knew that, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone more than a little arch.

Lori clucked her tongue. “Now, now, don’t be testy.”

“Of course not, dear.”

She laughed at his martyrish expression. “I really will be quiet now.”

“There isn’t much more to tell.” He shrugged and then grimaced. “Ow.”

“Poor darling,” Lori murmured. “Where does it hurt?”

He pointed to his shoulder and Lori kissed the expensive superfine of his coat.

“ Mmm ,” he said, smiling at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “That feels better already. Perhaps you might do that to all my injuries. But with my clothes off. Yours, too.”

“ All your injuries! How many times did you get shot?”

He sighed. “You are focusing on the wrong part of what I just said, sweetheart.”

“Fast,” she said in a warning tone. “How many times?”

“Just twice.”

“Just. Twice.” Lori had to take a deep breath and hold it to calm herself before she could say, “Explain.”

“It’s not a pretty story, Lorelei.”

“When will you understand that I am a newspaperwoman and accustomed to dealing with unsavory subjects?”

“Fine,” he said in a flat voice. “If you must have it, I brought him down with the knife and then I beat his head against an anvil until he was no longer breathing. And then I set the building on fire, with his body inside it.”

Lori’s lips parted and she mouthed the word Oh.

“You are shocked.”

It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. “Yes.” After a moment she felt compelled to add, “But I cannot say that I am sorry. Moreland deserved it. Not just for what he’d done in the past, but for what he probably would have kept doing.”

“I agree.”

“You still haven’t said why it took so long to come to me?” she reminded him.

“Because I had to see to the Jensen girl, which took a lot longer than I thought.”

“You mean Moreland hadn’t killed her?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that she was there in the barn when I arrived?”

Lori rolled her eyes. “You are the worst storyteller ever. ”

Predictably, he laughed. But his expression quickly turned grim. “Yes, she was there—tied up. Bevil was going to stage our bodies after he’d killed us. He said he’d make it look as if I’d raped her and that she’d somehow got her hands on a gun and shot me and then killed herself.”

Lori felt ill. “That—that villain ! What happened with Miss Jensen?”

“First, she helped staunch my wounds. Then we set the barn on fire and watched it burn. Once I’d recovered a bit she rode for help. Afterward, I helped her collect her children—whom Moreland had sold—and brought all three of them to a nice cottage on my grandfather’s estate, where they are recuperating nicely. And no , I’m not going to tell you about the dreadful hell hole that bought the little girls. Suffice it to say you will read about the place in the newspapers sometime in the coming weeks.”

“Were the children—”

“They were fine, but it was a close thing. After Ellie was safely settled, I had to deal with Demelza’s situation. After that was satisfactorily managed, I came looking for you.” He gave her a tight smile. “As for why it took so long to find you? Well, my darling, you never told me your brother had a different surname than you.”

She winced. “Oh. Did I not mention that my mother was my father’s second wife?”

His expression was withering. “No. And I searched all over hell and gone for a Reverend Fontenot.”

“Why didn’t you just ask Freddie?”

“She was gone when I went to call on her.”

“Gone?” Lori repeated blankly. “Gone where?

“I thought she was just not at home to me, but that harsh-faced servant of hers managed to convince me otherwise.”

“Oh, Mrs. Brinkley?”

“I believe that was her name.”

“Did she say where Freddie went?”

“I got the distinct impression that she did not know where. Only that her mistress had packed her bags and gone on a journey.”

“How… singular.” And concerning. Freddy had never taken a trip anywhere in all the years Lori had known her.

“I thought the word inconvenient was more fitting,” Fast corrected.

“So then what?”

“I finally had to go back to Parker’s office.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. ” He smiled grimly. “Don’t worry, Parker wasn’t there. At least not that time. It was his harried clerk who I wanted to see in any case. He was only too happy to allow me to ransack his files for your information.”

Lori frowned. “Wait. You went back ? And what do you mean by that time ?”

**

Fast eyed the love of his life with no small amount of concern, not quite sure how she would take this next part.

“I want you to promise me something, Lorelei.”

“What?” she asked, suspicion glittering in her eyes.

“Promise me you won’t be angry at me.”

“How can I possibly promise that?”

“Just say it.”

She gave him a look of profound feminine exasperation. “Fine. I won’t be angry.”

“The first time I went to Parker was the same day I returned to London from the house party.”

“You what ?”

“Don’t get angry,” he reminded her.

“What did you do, Fast?”

“I told him you wouldn’t be working for him anymore and—”

“You what ?”

“You’ve already said that, sweetheart.”

She glared.

Fast resumed his story. “I told him how he’d put your life at risk. I demanded to know what hold he had over you”—he winced at her shriek but went on— “when he refused to be cooperative, I had to… persuade him.”

She stood and would have walked away if he hadn’t caught her arm and yanked her back onto his knee. “You aren’t allowed to leave,” he told her sternly, hoping to cow her into submission with his lordly frown .

It didn’t work.

“ Just what did you do?” she demanded, thoroughly uncowed.

Why lie? “I beat him until he confessed.”

“You beat him?” she shouted, and then, “Wait. Until he confessed to what?”

“That he had passed Briarly off to publishers as his own book.”

“ What ?”

He flinched and hissed through clenched teeth, “Sweetheart, you are three inches from my ear.”

“Who—how—” This time when Lorelei jumped up off his lap, Fast let her go.

She paced back and forth across the small room. “I’m too angry to speak right now,” she said, “You go on.”

“Parker sold your book to Anthony Hayes over at Hayes and Sons. Once got that information out of him I went over and, er, convinced Hayes that it was in his best interest to give me back the manuscript.”

Her lips parted and her eyes went wide. “How did you do that?”

“I just told him the truth—that you’d written it.”

“And—and he just believed you?”

Fast snorted. “What do you think?”

“Please tell me you didn’t beat him, too?”

“No.”

She heaved a sigh.

“At least not much.”

“Fast!”

“What?” he asked, spreading out his hands. “How else was I supposed to retrieve your stolen property and get him to break his contract with that scoundrel Parker?”

“If you beat every single publisher in London, how will I ever do business there again?”

“I didn’t have to beat W.H. Newcastle. At least not when the man finally had a chance to read it.”

She gasped. “It was you who gave it to him?”

“It sure as hell wasn’t Parker.” He reached out and caught her hand, pulling her lush bottom back onto his thigh. “Why didn’t you come to me for help—rather than that scaly bastard Parker?” He claimed her mouth fiercely before she could offer up paltry excuses—such as she hadn’t known Fast back then—and savagely kissed her, all the worry and anxiety of the past weeks pouring out of him.

And all the love, as well.

When he decided to let her breathe again, he released her. “So,” he said, taking an immoderate amount of pleasure from her flushed face, dazed eyes, and swollen lips. “Is that explanation good enough for where I’ve been, why I’ve been gone so long, and why you will forgive me and marry me?”

Her lashes fluttered and her green eyes—so like those of her enchanting little niece—widened in shock. “Marry? But—”

He laid a finger over her lush lips. “If you utter any of that claptrap about not believing in marriage, I’ll drag you back to The King’s Purse and lock you up in the Queen’s Chambers. I’ll keep you there and use each and every one of those implements on the wall on your body until you beg me to marry you.”

“Fast!”

He was pleased to note that she blushed prettily and appeared titillated, rather than appalled, by his erotic threat. Hmmm, that was interesting. His little authoress was adventurous, was she? Fast could joyfully accommodate her curiosity.

“Well?” he demanded when she continued to stare dazedly. “Will you allow your brother to marry us tomorrow morning? Or must I carry out my threat?”

“But the banns haven’t been read.”

He patted his pocket. “I came prepared with a special license.”

“But…what about your grandfather? Everyone in London knows how high in the instep he is. He will never agree to you marrying me.”

“It was only thanks to my grandfather’s assistance that the Archbishop was persuaded to issue a special license to a reformed rake such as myself.”

She goggled. “You mean he doesn’t mind that you aren’t marrying a pedigreed peeress or an heiress?”

Fast didn’t tell her that the old man had minded a great deal. Nor did he tell her how loudly and passionately the two of them had discussed the matter. And he certainly didn’t mention that it had taken almost one entire week out of the last three and a half to finally persuade the marquess to see the light.

Instead, he smiled and said, “He is so grateful that I’m staying in England and have consented to wed that he said I could marry his char woman if she agreed to bear him a grandson.” That was the truth, as far as it went.

Fast knew the old man’s reservations would disappear after a few hours in Lorelei’s company. A few days, at most.

She laughed. “How flattering.”

Fast kissed her. “And don’t think I’m asking you to be my wife only so I can breed heirs on you, Lorelei.”

Her lips parted in that distracting way she had.

Fast smirked. “Although I certainly plan to practice breeding you often and vigorously.”

She raised her hands to her pink cheeks. “You also plan to keep me in a perpetual blush.”

“I do,” he agreed. “But as to the matter of children, I will make every effort not to put a baby in your belly until and if you are ready for it.” He gave her a faint smile. “I think you know I’m more than delighted to take and give pleasure in a variety of other ways.”

“What if I never want to have a baby?” she asked quietly, no longer smiling.

“Then we will do our best to make sure you don’t fall pregnant.” He tilted his head. “You really don’t want children?”

“No, I want them. Very much, in fact. I just want to make sure that isn’t the reason you are marrying me.”

Fast couldn’t help feeling relieved at her words—at least the first part. As for the second…

“I can’t believe you would think I’d only marry you for heirs, Lorelei.”

She stroked a soothing hand over his chest. “I don’t. I just want everything to be… clear. I’ve seen too much misery when there are no children—or if there are girls, and no heir. I want to know that you will not be terribly disappointed if I cannot have children. Or if I only give you daughters.”

“I would adore having a daughter with you. Especially if she looks like you.” He sighed and laced their fingers together. “I don’t think I made my feelings entirely clear, Lorelei. I will be forty years old in a few months, so I have not been in any hurry to marry. I want a family for my own pleasure and happiness, not to secure a title I care very little about. The fact that my marriage will please my grandfather is just a happy bonus.”

“ Hmmm . Forty,” she said, eying him speculatively.

“What? Is that too old for you, you little shrew? How old are you by the way?” He cast his gaze ceilingward and said, “Please say you are at least twenty.”

“I am five-and-twenty,” she retorted. “Is that too young for you?”

He grinned at her taunting. “For your information, you are perfect for me. You are perfect, full stop.” He raised her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her finger, regarding her hungrily from beneath his lashes. “Every single part of you is perfect.”

Her cheeks blossomed with color. “You can’t resist an opportunity to make me blush.”

“No. I cannot.”

She snorted and shook her head. “You are a rake. I can’t imagine how devastating you were when your powers were in full bloom.”

“I like to think I’ve just become better with age.”

She laughed.

Fast kissed her thoroughly, until she was breathless with something other than laughter. “Witch,” he muttered. “You have enchanted me thoroughly.”

His brazen little newspaperwoman shyly lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, she said, “What did your grandfather say about you marrying a newspaper woman?”

Fast hesitated, and then admitted, “I did not raise that subject with him. I told him what little I knew of your family connections. And I mentioned you lived with Lady Sedgewick.”

She pulled her hands away from him and the joy drained from her face. “So, in other words, you utterly concealed who I am.”

“My grandfather is almost ninety years of age, Lorelei. He is the product of another time and set in his ways. He would not approve of your aspirations to be a novelist, and he emphatically would not approve of me marrying a newspaper woman. However ”—Fast raised his voice to be heard over her scoffing—“ however , there is no reason that he should know of your ambitions, is there? At least not immediately.”

“What about the book contract you all but negotiated for me, Fast?”

He was genuinely surprised by her question. “What about it?”

“Do you expect me to just refute the offer if I agree to marry you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then how will your grandfather not find out about me?”

Fast frowned. “Surely you did not mean to publish your books under your own name?”

***

Lori wanted to retort of course she’d meant to claim credit for her novel. But it would have been a lie. She had always known she would need to employ a nom de plume. If she didn’t, she would feel constrained in her writing, fearing that she would put something into print that would shame her brother and his family.

So why did it annoy her so much that Fast might expect the same consideration for his family?

Because you are scared. Here is the thing you wanted and thought you could never have—marriage to this magnificent man—and you are scared that you are transgressing your own principles.

Was that true? Was that all she really cared about? The preservation of her principles?

“Lorelei? What are you thinking? Don’t hide from me. Talk to me.”

Lori began to rise up from his lap, but Fast tightened his grip on her fingers and slid his other arm around her waist to keep her on his knee.

“Not so fast, Lorelei. I have no objection to my wife writing books, but—”

“But you would not allow the woman you marry to work for a newspaper?” she couldn’t help retorting.

“Under no circumstance would I allow my wife to plunge heedlessly into danger, as you have been accustomed to doing. But that doesn’t mean we can’t come up with a mutually acceptable compromise.”

“As long as you get what you want.”

“Precisely.” He chuckled. “Quit squirming to get away,” he chided.

“I won’t be told what to do by some man!”

“I won’t be some man . I will be your husband.”

“That doesn’t— mmmff ”

Fast kissed her until she stopped trying to escape, until she reached for him, her fingers sliding into the silky heat of his hair. Before she knew it, she was moaning and pressing herself against him, taking control of their kiss, reveling in finally being joined to him when she’d feared for almost a month that he was going to marry another.

It was Fast who pulled away, his eyes heavy lidded. “Lord, but I’ve missed that.”

Lori shook off her erotic torpor. “Just because I allowed you to kiss me does not mean I agree to abide by your commands.”

He sighed. “Is working for a newspaper what you really want, Lorelei? Because I recall you saying that you only took the job with Parker so you could afford to do what you truly love, and that is write novels.”

Why had she ever told him that?

“Well?” he prodded.

“It is true that I want to work on my novel now , but what about if I decide to do something else later? What then, Fast? Are you going to forbid me to do as I wish?”

“I want us both to get what we want, Lorelei,” he said, holding her gaze. “We will work together to make sure we are both happy. I promise you that.”

“You can say that now, but once we’re married—"

“Once we are married you are my property under the law,” he finished for her.

She swore she heard the clanging of a cell door.

He lightly caressed her jaw. “I cannot change what the law says, Lorelei. But I can give you my word that I will always love, cherish, and protect you—without trampling your rights and desires in the process.” He gave her a rueful look. “Unfortunately, you’re going to have to take my word for that because I can’t change the law for you, no matter how unjust I think it is.”

“And you will accept no arrangement other than marriage?”

“If you’re asking whether I will stop seeing you if you refuse to marry me, then the answer is no . But if you’re asking if I think that sneaking into each other’s dwellings of an evening would satisfy me for long? The answer is also no. I want you in my life. Not just as a lover, but as a companion, a wife, a mate, and a mother to my children.”

Lori stared at him, both her stomach and her mind churning.

You are arguing with a man who is offering you more than you ever dared to dream you could have! He knows about you and Dorian, and he does not care. You don’t want to write foolish gossip columns or crawl around the docks in the dark to investigate stories, you want to write novels! And yet you continue to argue.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Lori inhaled deeply and met his gaze. “You expect concessions of me, Fast—well, I have one for you.”

“If it is within my power to give it, I will do so.”

“Most men of your class keep a mistress—or go to places like The King’s Purse to satisfy their carnal urges. I could not live with that. It would destroy me if you were unfaithful.”

“I am not like my father, Lorelei. I have always vowed to myself that if I ever married, I would be a faithful husband. Have I had a lot of lovers in my life? Yes, many. Certainly enough to know when I’ve found a woman who is special and singular and worthy of my fidelity.”

“But you fell out of love once before,” she couldn’t help saying. “What if it happens again?”

He hesitated, looking torn, before finally saying, “There are no guarantees when it comes to love, Lorelei—at least none that I know about. All I can tell you is that I love you with my whole heart. And I honestly do not believe that I have ever felt so deeply for anyone else.” He smiled. “I am well and truly caught and grateful to be so. I have never met anyone like you. You entice, please, challenge, infuriate, and entrance me. I love you, Lorelei. And I hate the thought of living without you.”

Lori’s face blazed at his declaration.

Tell him you love him, too! Tell him!

But she couldn’t make herself say the words. Instead, she nuzzled her face between his neck and shoulder and softly asked, “Are you sure about this, Fast? Truly sure?”

“I’m sure, darling. Truly sure.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. You love him. You know a lifetime with him is what you want.

She sighed, squirmed a bit, and then pressed her lips to the tender skin just below his jaw, kissing and tasting him.

He groaned and pushed himself away, until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Stop tormenting me, you temptress. Will you marry me? Or do I have to carry out my diabolical scheme to make you surrender by seducing you into submission?”

Her body’s reaction to his words shocked her—although why it should at this point, was beyond her.

Stricken with a shyness that was foreign to her, she lowered her eyes before saying, “If I say yes , can we still go back to the Queen’s Chambers so you can seduce me into submission with all those implements ?”

Fast gave a shout of triumph that Lori suspected could be heard throughout the entire vicarage and pulled her close to kiss her soundly.

“That is one promise I cannot wait to keep, my adorable darling!”