Page 160 of A Story of Love

He hesitated only a second, and then leaned close to Dorian, who tried to flinch away but only managed to bang his head against the tree in the process. The low rumble of Fast’s voice filled the silence for a few seconds and then he barked, “Understood?”

“Yes, my lord!” Dorian shrieked.

Fast grunted and then released him.

Lori experienced an almost crushing feeling of exultation when Dorian fell to the dirt like a broken doll. Was it petty to enjoy the moment? Yes, but she didn’t care. It reminded her of that day all those years ago when she had been at his feet. Dorian should be grateful that she had stopped Fast from killing him.

As for Daniel…

When Lori looked up from Dorian, she saw that the squire’s son had slunk away while her attention had been riveted elsewhere. She felt a mild pang of regret that he did not get his comeuppance but then recalled Fast did not know that he had physically attacked her all those years ago. If he had known, she feared she would not have been able to stop him from killing Daniel.

“My love?” Fast held out his arm and she lightly set her trembling hand on his sleeve.

There wasn’t so much as a peep as he led her away from the silently staring men.

Not until they were out of the woods and the vicarage was in sight did the excitement of the last few minutes hit her.

A flush swept her entire body—as if her clothes had been set on fire—and she began to shake, her teeth clacking audibly. For a second, she feared she might faint from sheer, overwhelming emotion.

“Lorelei?” Fast asked in a gentle voice that was all the more powerful when contrasted with his menacing tone of only moments before. “Is aught amiss, love?”

With all the strength she could muster she launched herself at her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and not caring if her skirt was hiked to her thighs.

“What’s this, sweetheart? Not that I’m not delighted to have you in my arms,” he said, sliding both hands beneath her bottom to lift her a bit higher. He pulled his head back just enough that he could meet her gaze. His brow was furrowed with concern and his pale eyes blazed like magnificent sapphires in the sun.

“It’s—that was—” It felt like her tongue was made from lead. She swallowed and tried again, “I l-l-love you so much, Fast!” Her voice was so raw that it didn’t even sound like her. A confusing medley of love and amazement and gratitude roiled inside her. She had never wanted anyone to rescue her before—not her parents or her brother or her friends—but what Fast had just done, and the way it had made her feel so cherished—felt…exquisite. For the first time in her life, Lori desperately wished that there was an even stronger word than love.

“Ah, sweetheart,” Fast murmured, pulling her close. “That’s what I’ve been longing to hear. I love you, too, Lorelei. More than you can imagine.”

Chapter 33

Despite Lorelei’s protests—which were interspersed with frequent, breathy sobs—Fast carried his weeping wife the rest of the way to the vicarage.

The whole time, her words echoed in his ears: I love you so much, Fast!

While he could have wished that she hadn’t been weeping and distraught when she’d finally decided to declare her feelings for him, he understood that the tears were from an excess of emotion—the strain of the prior weeks—and not directed at him personally.

In any event, they had the vicarage to themselves for the next twelve-or-so hours and it would be Fast’s particular pleasure to help ease her tension in every way imaginable. And he had an excellent imagination.

Smiling at the thought, he shouted for Mrs. Gerber the moment he opened the door to the foyer. The woman came scurrying into the small entry hall so quickly that he suspected she couldn’t have been far away. “Yes, my lord?”

“Have hot water sent up to the bridal chamber. You might as well have the girl bring up the cold supper Mrs. Simpson said you’d prepared.”

“You want supper now, sir?” Mrs. Gerber’s wide eyes swiveled from Fast to the window, as if to assure herself it was still daytime.

“Yes, send it up now. Her ladyship and I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day. And night.” Fast gave the fussy servant a hard look, hoping that she took his meaning, which was that she and the maid should make themselves scarce.

“Won’t Miss Lori—er, my lady—need help with her gown?”

“I’ll see to that,” he assured her, amused by the faint gasp that slipped out of her.

She dropped a hurried curtsey. “Very good, my lord.” Her curious gaze slid to Lori, who’d wrapped her arms around Fast’s neck and tucked her face into the ruins of his cravat.

“We’ll want that water right away.”

The woman gave a startled jolt. “Yes, my lord!” And she hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

“That was cruel,” Lori murmured as Fast carried her up the stairs. “She just wanted to get a good look at The King of the Rakes.”