Page 67 of The Truth Serum
Ras started to pull away, but Nate grabbed his arm.
“Find out who BC is,” he whispered.
A flicker of understanding, then Ras abruptly straightened. “Enough,” he bellowed, his tone effectively stopping all conversation. The man knew how to use his ducal voice when he wanted. He turned to Monsieur. “What would end this situation quickly?” He lifted his nose as if the room itself smelled. “Quietly.”
“Ah well,” Monsieur began. “There must be a penalty, otherwise these situations will continue. A forfeit. There are medical expenses. A possible child.” He threw up his hands. “Such difficult costs to hide.”
Becca sniffed. “I can see to the girl. I can determine if a doctor is needed.”
“No, no! We prefer our own doctors,” Monsieur declared.
Meanwhile, Ras was folding his arms. “You are squeezing a stone, Monsieur Joguet. Lord Nathaniel hasn’t a penny—”
“That is why I called you. You and Lord Nathaniel are the closest of friends, yes? He lives in your house. If your friend is sullied, then you will be covered in mud as well.”
Ras sniffed. “You overestimate the level of my friendship with him.”
“Do I? Your fiancée might think differently,” he said gesturing at Kynthea. “Perhaps she does not want to marry a man covered in mud.”
Kynthea rolled her eyes. “Ras knows where my heart lies.”
With her fiancé, obviously. And the look that the engaged couple shared sent a twist of envy through Nate’s heart. He was happy that Ras had found a perfect love in Kynthea. If only Nate could find such a future as well. But one glance at Becca’s irritated expression killed any hope of that.
She might believe him about his novel writing, but that was a far cry from being understanding about him tupping a maid. Even if he hadn’t really been doing it.
“You want money,” Ras growled. “Bring the maid here and I shall give it directly to her.”
“No, no!” monsieur huffed. “I shall take care of her expenses.”
“Really?” Ras drawled. “How?”
Monsieur put on a haughty air. “I shall invest it. For her future child.”
What a stupid lie. It was simple extortion. Pay Monsieur money to keep silent about this situation, as if anyone would care that Nate had seduced a maid. But Ras was known to be uptight about his reputation, and so the Frenchman was taking the shot. But with the women there, he was trying to be coy about it.
Meanwhile, Ras shifted his expression. Surprise, surprise. The man knew how to look sneaky.
“Invest it how?” he asked.
“What?”
Ras stepped forward, his voice low. “I know you have a scheme, and I’ll bet you need more capitol. I have money, but only if I can play as well.”
It was a bold move, but a believable one. After all, Ras was quiet about his financial affairs. He was reputed to have money, but no one exactly knew where it came from. Nate knew it was from good management of the ducal estates, but not everyone believed that. And Monsieur likely assumed that everyone was as greedy as he was.
Meanwhile, the Frenchman cut up stiff. “Non! I will not.”
Ras nodded. “Then I will not. Nate will have to suffer the consequences of his own stupidity.”
Nate winced. Why did his friend have to put it that way? And in front of the women. But Nate was playing the part of an idiot, so he grumbled something incoherent before slumping in his seat.
Ouch. That hurt his ribs. He really needed to get out of here soon.
“Come along, Nate,” Ras said as he headed to Nate’s side, but he was stopped by Monsieur.
“How much?” the man said under his breath.
Ras paused. “How much do you need?”
