Page 25 of The Truth Serum
Do you want to hit me again?
Yes! No! God, what was wrong with her?
She settled on the squabs beside Fletcher and closed her eyes. Lord, she hadn’t felt this emotional in years. In ten years, to be exact. Ten minutes with Nate and she was slapping people. Or rather, him.
“Tell me everything that happened. Exactly.”
She sighed. Fletcher would demand a recounting. “We talked, we had tea. Lord Nathaniel proposed.”
“He what?”
She arched a brow at him.
“Well? What did you say?”
She snorted. “You saw the result.”
“You slapped him? Excellent. He just wants your dowry. Imagine the audacity of thinking that you would still bevulnerable to him. Good God, he is a fool. I suppose he’s too lazy or too stupid to try to seduce other heiresses.”
“I think he’s trying to make up for the earlier disaster. Marriage would erase some sins.”
“Will it bring our father back to life?”
Rebecca sighed. “No, of course not.”
“Exactly. I’m pleased that you handled it. I would have had to call him out if I were there. That would be awkward.”
She jolted. A duel? “Fletcher, you wouldn’t!”
“Of course not. There are easier, less public ways to kill a man.”
“Fletcher! Good God—”
“I’m joking. Calm down.” He flashed her an indulgent smile. “In any event, I’m pleased you put him in his place.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d done, but she didn’t express that to her brother. Meanwhile, he folded his gloves in his lap and turned to her.
“Now tell me about Miss Petrelli. Any oddities there? Did you press on that love potion nonsense?”
“I didn’t get the chance.”
Fletcher grunted in disgust. “I told you most specifically—”
“It was an odd situation from the beginning. I don’t know what game you’re playing but leave me out of it.”
“Game!” her brother huffed. “This is the game of living. It’s the game of finding a husband who will bring advantage to yourself and our family. And I am going to great lengths to see that you do it well.”
“Perhaps you should go to less effort, then,” she shot back. “Fletcher, I did not ask for your escort today. Nor did I need it.”
“Be thankful that I was there. I was able to plant some seeds with Ras. I don’t suppose Miss Petrelli is silly enough to be tempted away from a duke, is she?”
“No,” Rebecca said, the word hard and cold.
“And Ras seemed determined in his choice as well. Very well. You’ll have to marry the baron then. He’s your next best option.”
“Baron?” She gaped at him. “What baron?”
Fletcher waved a hand at her. “Baron Courbis. You’ll meet him tomorrow night. Wear something low-cut. He likes breasts.”
