Page 136 of A Story of Love

“Uh uh uh,” Bevil chided. “You are fine where you are.”

Fast smiled. “Why Bevil, are you worried I might hurt you?”

Bevil laughed, and it sounded genuine. “I can’t believe you didn’t kill me at the countess’s house party. I expected you to sneak into my house and kill me in my bed.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Fast admitted. Especially since he’d roamed Bevil’s estate looking for Ellie on four nights.

The earl’s smile curdled. “But you were too busy sniffing after that Pascoebitch, weren’t you? Did you fuck her, Fast?”

“No, but I did warn her about you, Bevil. She’ll never marry you. Indeed, I fear you’ll have a difficult time finding any young woman to be your wife. At least not any wealthy woman.” He smiled.

Bevil’s handsome face turned ugly. “You have always underestimated other people’s greed for status and connections, Fast. It’s because you were born so bloody well-larded you just never could fathom how it is for the rest of us mere mortals who were not so fortunate. Demelza might not want me, but her father doesn’t give a damn what she wants. And Bryok Pascoewill be delighted to accept me as his son-in-law once you are out of the way.”

Fast was sorely tempted to tell the other man that Demelza would soon be married and beyond Bevil’s grasp, as well as her father’s. But he kept his mouth shut because if he managed to get himself killed today, he didn’t want Bevil to have any information he could use against the poor girl and foil her plans.

When Fast didn’t respond to his taunting, Bevil resumed his blathering. “Take my word for it—she will be grateful to marry me. But you will not be around to witness it, will you?”

“Are you going to kill me, Bevil?” He began to reach inside his coat. “I brought the evidence and lived up to my half of the—”

“Stop right there!”

He lifted his hands. “I was just getting the confession. You gave me your word that you would let the woman go if I brought it. And I have. I’ll stay here once she is gone, and you and I can settle this between us.”

“I gave you my word?” Bevil repeated, his expression derisive. “Do you really think I’ll help you put a noose around my neck just so I can keep my word?” Bevil laughed. “You arrogant fool! How the hell did you survive all those years at sea as stupid as you are? I know you brought a pistol,” he said when Fast merely stared. “And probably a knife or two, as well. Take off your overcoat—slowly—and toss it aside. Then do the same with your coat.”

“Are you going to strip me naked, Bevil?” Fast asked, amused.

Moreland lifted his pistol. “Do it or I’ll shoot you right now.”

“No you won’t. Then you wouldn’t get to gloat,” he said. “But I tell you what, Bevil. I will do what you say if you tell me why you killed my brother.”

A nasty smile spread across the other man’s face. “With pleasure. Now, remove your bloody coats.”

Fast reached for the buttons on his overcoat.

“If you had any sense at all, you’d have figured it out years ago,” Bevil said, his tone conversational and almost…jaunty. “Percy found out about Louisa. That’s why I did it.”

“Found out what?”

“That Louisa hadn’t come to him a maiden.” He laughed at whatever he saw on Fast’s face—anger, surprise, loathing. “Yes, I had her first. And last, too, as it turned out. If you want to blame someone for Percy’s death you should really blame Louisa because it was her fault he had to die. The silly cow told Percy that I’d forced her.” He shrugged. “What else could I do?”

“How about not rape women to begin with?”

Bevil’s eyebrows shot up and he looked surprised. But rather than be ashamed or embarrassed, an expression of smug delight colored his features. “She might not have cared for it that first time. And maybe even the second. But she learned to like it after we were married.” He smiled, the expression so slimy that Fast’s vision blackened around the edges and he took a step forward.

“No. That is not a good idea, Fast.” He lifted the pistol and pointed to a huge anvil a few feet away from Fast. “If you come any closer to me than that, I will shoot you. Finish removing your coat.”

Fast locked eyes with the other man and the raw animosity he saw rocked him to his core. What had he—or Percy—ever done to earn such hatred?

“Get on with it,” Bevil snapped, jerking the gun.

Fast reached for the buttons of his coat. “Tell me how it happened?”

“You’ve read Jensen’s confession. You know how.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Bevil shrugged. “Louisa went to Percy after you’d thrashed him, when he was still laid up. I gather she went to beg him for forgiveness and spilled the entire story.” He gave a dismissive gesture. “Whatever her reasons, when I went to see Percy, he was waiting for me and in a rage. He was so weak he couldn’t even rise from his bed—but he tried. I worried he’d have some sort of relapse then and there, so I begged him to calm down—to wait until he was better, and we could discuss the matter in a civilized fashion.” Bevil snorted. “Of course, the moment he could crawl out of bed he demanded that I meet with him.”