Page 129 of A Story of Love

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.”