Page 150 of A Story of Love

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.”