Page 46 of The Truth Serum
She frowned then nodded. “I guess you have.”
“How can you not remember these things?” He was a little insulted that he had to remind her.
“I don’t know.” She leaned forward. “I suppose I have heard over and over that you never did anything good in your life. You or your family.”
“You know that’s not true!” At least she’dknownit once upon a time.
“I do. I did. I just…” Her gaze grew abstract. “I’m an idiot. I knew it wasn’t true. But they kept telling me things.”
“They?” he prompted. “They who?”
Her gaze tightened back on him. “Fletcher and Mama. Henry doesn’t say much at all. He’s too busy managing the estate, and he was never one to socialize. He’s gone months without saying a single word to me or Mama.”
Her oldest brother Henry could easily be characterized as a hermit. A blind, deaf, and dumb one, unless you talked to him about soil. Then he transformed into a genius who had no patience for anyone else’s ignorance.
But that genius had made the family incredibly wealthy, so Nate had no reason to disparage the man. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of her family.
“You said Fletcher is getting worse. What do you mean by that?” Was she in any danger?
“He’s protective to a ridiculous degree. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without him. He tells me what social events I can attend, and the few times he’s not with me, he demands to know who I talked to, and about what.” She shuddered. “He was neverlike that at home, but he’s different in London. And I’m getting tired of it.”
“That’s not protective, that’s possessive. He doesn’t own you. You’ve reached your majority.”
She nodded. “Mama says that’s the surest sign I’m a spinster and that I must resign myself to living exactly as I have been for the rest of my life.” She looked at her hands. “I take care of her. I manage the house for Henry. I help the vicar with the children. And Mrs. Chenoweth is getting old now. I help her a lot.”
That would be a full life for many women, but clearly not for her. She’d always wanted to travel, to experience new things. No wait, that was him. He’d always wanted to wander until he’d spent ten years travelling for the Foreign Office. She’d always wanted to learn useful things. How to manage a burn, what was the best mash for pigs. If the clouds looked one way, did that foretell rain or wind?
“Why does Fletcher want you to marry the baron?”
She snorted. “Fletcher wants a seat in the House of Commons. Your brother has the one for our borough. He’s hoping to get the one in the baron’s borough.”
“And you marrying the man will assure that?”
“Fletcher thinks so.”
It was possible. “Is that what you learned with that truth serum?”
He watched as her cheeks pinked, but she didn’t shy away from what she’d done. “No. I already knew that. I wanted to find out what the baron got from this deal.”
“Besides you as his wife and mother for his child? Besides your dowry?”
She nodded. “I wanted to know if he had feelings for me.” She looked away from him then, her gaze going out the window to the night sky. “I shouldn’t have done it, but Fletcher ispressuring me, and I didn’t know what else to do.” She looked back at him. “Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. It took an hour or more to wear off—”
“That long!”
“I stayed with him until he seemed rational. He refuses to believe he beat his naked chest between sets. Called me a damned liar.”
She blew out a slow breath. “Did you take him home?”
“Yes.” He scanned her from head to toe again. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? He’s very strong.” It had taken Nate plus two footmen to force him into a carriage. But once there, the man decided to relax and stare into the darkness. Talked about beautiful lights in front of his eyes, and the glory of breasts. All breasts, not just Becca’s. And Nate spent the entire ride telling himself it was wrong to punch the man.
“He didn’t hurt me,” she said. Then she touched a hand to the side of her head. “He surprised me, is all.”
“He grabbed you by the hair. He could have—”
“He didn’t,” she rushed to say. “I’m fine.” But the hurried way she spoke told him she’d thought about what might have happened. What was underneath the baron’s normally urbane manner.
