Page 87 of A Story of Love

His lips twitched slightly at that. “What about the rest of her family?”

“She never mentions them,” Lori said rather lamely. Did she really know so little about a woman who was probably her best friend?

“Nothing?”

Lori didn’t blame him for sounding skeptical. “She has never mentioned any siblings or her parents. I assume there is nobody left, or she would not have been forced to fend for herself.”

Gregg stared for a long moment and then turned to leave.

“Wait! When will you give me the information about Lord Barrington’s smuggling?”

“Before you leave here.”

“And when will that be, pray?”

“When Lord Severn says you may leave.”

“When will he return?”

“That is a matter for him to decide.”

Lori looked for something to throw at Gregg’s head, but he opened the door and stepped into the corridor too quickly.

The cat strutted across the room and hopped up onto the bed.

“You’re forgetting your cat,” she called to Gregg.

He was in the act of closing the door but glanced at the sinuous black beast, which was sprawled across the supple leather bedspread as if he belonged there.

“Mr. Pouncefoot-Jones doesn’t belong to me. He’s his own cat.” Gregg shut the door with a firm click before she could come up with a response.

Lori stared at the cat, who stared back at her from beneath lowered lids and then yawned.

“Fine, you can stay,” she said after a moment. “But I get the right side of the bed.”

***

Two mornings later the maid entered Lori’s room without Gregg in attendance. She shut the door behind her and deposited the tray on the usual table.

For the first time, there was no sound of a key turning in the lock.

Lori perked up; what was going on? Where was Gregg? Was the woman alone?

She swallowed down her excitement and smiled in what she hoped was a winning, rather than scheming, way. “Hello,” she said to the young woman who eyed her nervously. “I see you every day and yet I don’t know your name.”

“Er, it’s Lucy, ma’am.” She fiddled with the tray a little and slid an anxious glance toward the closed door. Was Gregg waiting on the other side of it to lock up after Lucy left? Or was he elsewhere this morning, hence the girl’s nervousness?

“You don’t have to call me ma’am,” Lori said, pushing off the bed and moving slowly toward the maid, approaching her as she would a skittish animal. “Just Lori is fine.”

“Aye.” Lucy gave a hesitant nod and began to back away.

“Wait! Don’t leave just yet.”

But the girl darted toward the door.

Lori hurried after her and was right on her heels when Lucy flung open the door. She made it no more than two steps into the corridor before she slammed into a hard, broad chest.

“Now, now, Miss Fonty-Not, none of that,” Mr. Barker chided, one of his massive paws gently but inexorably closing around her upper arm.