Page 20 of A Story of Love

“Yes,” she lied again. “I have information that Lord Severn’s grandfather is coming to London for the first time in years. He will bring his household with him and many of those servants have been with the family for decades. I hope one or more of them will be able to offer insights into the relationship between the twins, especially right before Lord Percy’s death.” Lori didn’t really believe the Marquess of Grandon’s servants—especially old retainers—would be so loose lipped, but what else could she say? She would simply have to come up with some other idea. Hopefully.

David nodded and pulled her manuscript back toward him. “Good. That’s the sort of attitude a newspaperman, er, woman needs if she is to succeed.”

Lori clamped her jaws shut.

He took one look at her face and sighed. “You will need to learn to hide your emotions better than that if you have any hope of competing in a man’s world, my dear.”

Lori bit her tongue until blood flooded her mouth and forced a bland expression onto her face.

“Better, but still less than convincing.” David gave her a long, piercing look, and then—evidently satisfied that he had put her in her place—said, “I want you to investigate another matter at the same time you are looking into Lord Perseverance’s death.”

Dread rendered Lori immobile. Oh God. What did he want her to investigate now? Lord Severn’s long-dead grandmother’s sexual escapades?

“Oh?” was all she could manage to choke out.

“I have information that Severn wasn’t just engaged in capturing French vessels for their prize money during the war, but that he was neck deep in smuggling—not just contraband, but slaves, as well.”

Lori opened her mouth to point out the obvious, but David slammed his fist onto his desk, causing the inkwell and other debris to jump.

“Do not say it,” he warned her.

She closed her mouth.

“I know he weaseled out of any responsibility for that bloody child slavery ring,” he all but snarled, his face an ugly red mask of fury.

Lori enjoyed a brief fantasy of reminding him that Severn had not only not been responsible, but he’d been praised to the skies as one of the people who’d helped to catch the vile filth who were guilty.

Wisely, she kept her taunting to herself.

If David wanted to stick his nose into Lord Severn’s business again, after almost having it bitten off the last time, who was she to say no.

“Who is the source on this matter?” she asked, taking the small note pad and pencil stub from the pocket of her cloak.

He pursed his lips.

Lori groaned. “Good Lord! The same person who sent the anonymous letter about Lord Percy?” She wanted to weep when he just stared. “Please, please, please give me something more, David.”

“No, my source is most adamant on that matter, so stop your damned begging. But you can trust me when I say the man is imminently reliable. He claims that Severn doesn’t just own a brothel so that he has constant access to free whores, he likes to stay close to the waterfront to keep a hand in his illegal trading.”

“But he has retired from privateering—indeed, he has given up life at sea entirely. I believe it is his former first mate, er”—Lori flipped through her notebook—“James White who is now captaining the Vixen for him. As for smuggling, I already checked with customs and the last few runs the Vixen made have been filled with legitimate cargo according to His Majesty’s officials.”

“First off, White wasn’t Severn’s first mate but his second. Piers Amory Gregg—a man who is possessed of such a mysterious past that he must be concealing an unsavory character—was for years Severn’s first mate but has joined the viscount in whatever chicanery he is up to at that whorehouse. Secondly, Severn is hardly bringing slaves to the London docks, but he is running his operation from his vile nest at The King’s Purse. It is your job to determine the structure of his enterprise.”

Yet another impossible assignment. Most likely because there was no truth to it.

“By the way,” he added before she could speak, “if you can find anything out about Gregg that will mean a bonus for you. I have already set several of my better journalists on the man and they’ve come up blank. Gregg is a ghost—a shade with no connections or history for all that he is obviously English.”

Lori wanted to ask how she was supposed to ferret out anything about Gregg if all David’s crack newspapermen had failed. Instead, she said, “If the Vixen isn’t smuggling anything directly into England, then is your source claiming Severn has been running slaves to America? Because his ship hasn’t made that journey in almost four years.”

“If I knew the answer then I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?” he asked acidly.

Lori glared sightlessly down at her note pad, willing herself not to explode.

“One more thing.”

Good. God. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming, lifted her eyes to David, and said, “Yes?”

“The last journey Severn was on—after he left England last summer—his ship was alleged to have rescued a number of mutineers from the Sea Ranger.”