Page 130 of A Story of Love

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.”

Chapter 28

Fast had not been jesting about carrying her back to bed immediately after dinner. In fact, he hadn’t even waited until the dessert course was over to make good on his promise.

Not that Lori had complained.

It had been wise to have an early night as Mr. Gregg had knocked on the bedroom door at one-thirty—interrupting what had been a very pleasant cuddle—and Fast had left the room to talk to him.

Lori had immediately fallen back to sleep, only to be kissed back to wakefulness an indeterminate time later.

“What is it, Fast?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to nip out for a few hours.”

“Now?” she’d woken fully at his odd declaration.

He’d kissed her so deeply and thoroughly that—for a moment—she had believed he was going to crawl back beneath the covers.

But he had eventually pulled away. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. If all goes as planned I’ll be back beside you by morning. If not then, then certainly by tomorrow night.” He hesitated, kissed her, and then added, “We’ll have a good dinner and a nice long talk, love.”

“Mmm, talk?” she’d mumbled.

“Yes, darling. You’ve been patient, and it’s time—well, we’ll talk later.” He’d kissed her again. “I have to go.”

She had wanted to ask what they would talk about, but he’d gone before she could come up with the words.

That had been more than six hours ago. Lori glanced at the clock as she stretched and blinked the sleep from her eyes. It was almost eight-thirty and he’d not returned.

She heaved a sigh and pushed back the covers.

Fast had had all her clothing and her writing desk moved to his room the day before, so she slipped into the dressing gown that was laid at the foot of the bed and then pulled the servant cord.

Lucy arrived a few minutes later. “Oh, you’re awake. The master told the kitchen not to send breakfast up at the usual time, but to wait until you rang. Shall I fetch your tray?”

It was just like Fast to think about her even after he’d had a long night. “Did his lordship just get back, then?”

“No, miss. He never came back. He told Mrs. Marlowe last night, before he left.”

“Ah.” The house was so well-insulated and quiet that Lori tended to forget that the real business of King’s Purse didn’t even get started until after midnight.

“I’ll have hot water sent up when I fetch your tray,” Lucy said.

“You needn’t bother with that. There’s plenty in the pitcher still.”

“But it’s cold!”

“It will wake me up. Thank you, Lucy.”

Lucy bobbed a curtsey, murmured, “Of course, Miss Fontenot,” and then scurried from the room.

No matter how many times Lori had told the girl to call her by her first name, Lucy insisted that his lordship and Mrs. Marlowe wouldn’t like her taking such liberties.

The cool water did indeed wake her up and by the time Lucy arrived with a heaping tray of food a scant quarter of an hour later she was famished.

Lucy gestured to the stack of newspapers on the tray, which was twice as thick as usual. “Mrs. Marlowe thought you might want yesterday’s papers as well as today’s as you didn’t have a chance to read them.”