Page 54 of A Story of Love

“I beg your pardon,” he muttered. “It’s just difficult to believe you’d think that tasteless money-grubbing cad would select such a lovely garment.

She cut him an irritable look. “You’re the one who asked me who I thought it was. Don’t ask me questions if you’re going to become so huffy about my answers.”

“Huffy?”

“Yes, huffy. Besides, you hardly know anything about the man, so you’re not in the best position to judge.”

He was too angry to trust himself to speak, so he resorted to his characteristic grunt. She suspected Parker? Unbelievable!

“And don’t think that you can force me to talk more by making those bestial grunts or maintaining a mysterious silence.”

Fast grinned. “You’ve got me all sorted out, haven’t you?”

An expression flickered across her face, but he’d be damned if he knew what it meant.

Before he could tease an answer out of her, what must have been the shortest waltz in history drew to a close.

“Do you have the supper dance available?” Fast asked, inwardly cursing his mouth.

“Lady Sedgewick wishes to leave before supper.”

“Ah, the life of a social butterfly.”

She smiled but didn’t disabuse him.

Fast was disappointed but told himself it was for the best. He would have stayed for supper if she’d been free, but the truth was that he needed to get down to the wharf and help Gregg interrogate Garcia—their main suspect for whoever was selling information to Parker. The man had evidently been spotted by one of Gregg’s many informants and Gregg was to set a trap for him later tonight.

While he regretted that he’d not get to spend more time with Miss Fontenot, he could not deny that he was very interested to question Mr. Garcia and discover if he was the man they’d been searching for. If Garcia was the one who’d blown the gaff about Jensen, then Fast would make excellent use of him before dishing up his just deserts.

Fast grinned at the prospect of feeding Parker some misinformation of his own devising. Christ but he’d like to get a few steps in front of despicable newspaperman for a change!

Chapter 14

Lori had never known just how acute her sense of smell was until that moment.

Nor had she known how cloying the scent of roses could be.

“’Ere ya go, luv,” Ella said, draping something over Lori’s shoulders that might once have been velvet but was now so threadbare and discolored it resembled a mangy, piebald cat.

“Er, thank you.” Lori adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and stared in fascinated horror at her reflection in the mirror.

Behind her, the prostitute—Ella Clent—smiled and nodded. “A sight for sore eyes, ye are.”

A sight to make eyes sore would be more like it, but Lori forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Moy pleasure,” Ella said, adjusting one of Lori’s curls.

Ella had teased Lori’s hair and then formed it into sausage-like ringlets that had been gathered into two clusters, one on either side of her head. She’d then rouged her cheeks and lips and heavily kohled her eyes. As a crowning gesture, she’d put a patch at the corner of Lori’s mouth.

Lori pointed to the large black dot. “Are you sure about this?”

“It’s true that it’s been years since they was in style, but the gents like ‘em,” Ella assured her.

And Lori’s gown…

Well, it was also something that hadn’t been in style for years. The bodice was boned and tight with exposed lacing, shoving her breasts up in the neighborhood of her chin, until they resembled a very fat baby’s.

The skirt and petticoats were composed of acres of fabric and rustled whenever she moved, scenting the air with a musty rose smell, as if somebody had stored flowers in a trunk and then buried the trunk under six feet of dirt for half a century.