Page 83 of A Story of Love

His grin spread slowly across his face. “You are jealous.”

“And you are an arrogant arse,” she shot back, outraged that the odious man was right.

He laughed. “If it is any consolation, I wish I could take you along with me, sweetheart.”

“You are a loathsome, conceited, odious—a poltroon!” she finished lamely.

“A poltroon?” His eyes shone with amusement. “There is one I’ve not been called before.” He strode toward the door, pausing and turning after he had opened it. “Be a good girl while I’m gone, Lorelei.”

“Go to hell!”

He laughed again. And then shut and locked the door behind him.

Chapter 20

Two hours later Lori was using the butterknife from her breakfast tray to pry the bolt off one corner of the bars on the window when she heard the telltale sound of the key in the lock.

She sprinted to the bed and tucked the knife behind a pillow, hurriedly dropped into a nearby chair, and picked up the book on Massachusetts.

When the door opened, Mr. Gregg entered. “Hello, ducks.”

She scowled up at him. “Go away.”

“Are you sure?” He lifted a very familiar looking valise. “Shall I take this with me?”

Lori stared at the battered leather bag. “Wait! Is… is that mine?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we have a look and see?” He shoved his hand inside the bag and pulled out something white. “Hmm, pretty. Is this yours?” He waved Lori’s nicest chemise in the air.

She charged across the room and snatched the garment out of his hands. “Where did you get this?” she demanded, grabbing the valise, and taking a few steps back, even though Gregg showed no signs of trying to take the bag back.

“Your housemate packed it for you.” He grinned. “Indeed, Lady Sedgewick handed it to me herself.” He gave a low whistle, his eyelids lowering. “Now that is a lovely lady.”

“Why in the world would she give my things to you?”

“Because you wrote to her and asked for them.”

Lori narrowed his eyes at him. “I most certainly did no—”

“Oh, yes you did.” He reached into his exquisitely tailored clawhammer coat and pulled out a few folded pieces of parchment. Lori came close enough to snatch them from his hand.

She gave an outraged squawk when she saw the three messages—all the same, with varying degrees of success when it came to copying her handwriting. “You forged a letter from me!”

“Guilty as charged.”

She pulled her gaze from his smirking face and read the brief message.

Dearest Freddie,

I’m afraid I need to be away from home for a few days. Would you mind terribly packing a bag for me? You can give it to the man who delivered this message—Mr. Gregg—and he’ll bring it to me. Don’t worry, Freddie, I’m not in any trouble. I’ll send you a message by Mr. Gregg every day to let you know things are well. You may trust him implicitly with any messages for me.

Thank you, my dear.

Lori

She looked up, shaking her head. “You swine! I may trust you implicitly? You are without shame.”

Gregg looked delighted by the accusation. “Utterly and completely.”