Page 93 of The Truth Serum
“You wanted his love for yourself. You poisoned him against me!”
What? “No!”
“And then you killed him!”
Truth.
“No! That’s a lie”
“It is not!”
Truth.At least her brother believed it.
Rebecca’s head was reeling, her body felt on fire, and her clothes itched. She longed to take off her stockings, to feel the cool air on her thighs. But mostly, she wanted to be away from her brother. All she felt from him was a noxious cloud of hate. It was so thick and dark, she felt like she was choking on it.
But she couldn’t stand without reeling and her vision was distorted. Plus, he was still gripping her arm, leaning over her as he tried to press his words bodily into her. He was ranting, spewing words at her as he let his darkness out.
He wasn’t yelling. No, that might bring the servants. Instead, he was whispering such hateful things into her ears that she couldn’t process it. Neither could she block it. But if she squinted her eyes, if she looked deep into him, she could still see that little boy. The angry, furious little boy throwing a tantrum.
A justifiable tantrum, maybe. He seemed to want his father. But the loving father he wanted never existed.
“Why are you doing this?” she croaked. “Father wasn’t a good man. Not always. Don’t you remember?”
“Lies! All of it lies.”
She swallowed, gathering her resources to fight back. “You dosed me. I can’t lie,” she lied. It was hard to do, but it was possible. The serum made it so she could hear his lies. And so she pressed him again.
“What do you gain if I marry the baron?”
Pleasure flooded his system as a slight smile curved his lips. “His money for us,” he said. Meaning money for Fletcher.
“What makes you think he’ll share?”
“He wants your dower property. He has to share with me to get it.”
“How?” she pressed. “How does it work?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he shot back. “Just see that you marry him.”
She shook her head. She knew Nate wanted her to pretend, but she couldn’t promise this. Not marriage. But she could give in a little.
“I will talk to him,” she said. “I’ll see him at the Penrose ball.” She closed her eyes against a wave of dizziness. “He can have a dance.”
“That’s days away.”
“We have to wait until his scandal dies down. The Penrose ball should be far enough away. He can probably get an invitation.”
Fletcher seemed to consider it. He knew as well as she did that a few days would quiet the scandal, then everything would go smoother. “Very well. You’ll give him three dances,” he declared.
“Two.” She was growing exhausted. He was wearing her down.
“And a walk outside.”
“I can’t go outside with him.” She had to stay in the ballroom. Nate said so.
“Outside.” Fletcher grabbed her chin. “He needs a kiss.”
Nausea pushed into her throat. “No!”
