Page 99 of The Truth Serum
“Really Mama,” she countered, “can you not see that he is a man grown who should learn how to handle disagreements without stomping about?”
“But that is what men do!” another lady exclaimed. “It is up to us to soothe them.”
And that perhaps was the root of the problem. When would men grow up? Why was it up to women to coddle and manage their emotions? She looked at Kynthea for support and found a wealth of understanding in her eyes. God, it was good to have a friend.
“Let’s go unpack our purchases,” the future duchess said. Then she glanced back at the ladies. “Would anyone else like to come see?”
Some of the ladies did, though most took their leave, no doubt to spread the gossip of Kynthea’s newest bridesmaid. Mama had likely told everyone already, but now they had seen the proof of it in Kynthea’s enthusiasm.
Everyone seemed to accept that men were moody creatures who must be managed, if not indulged. Indeed, that had been Rebecca’s opinion up until very recently. And here she was, once again struck by how badly she had misjudged Nate. He wasn’t a feckless boy who was as childish as her brother. He was a man who took responsibility for his actions, who was striving for the safety of England, and who truly worried about her without suffocating her.
How could she not love him?
But that was a thought for later. A feeling to examine when all this turmoil was over. And so she smiled at the bevy of women who chattered away as they headed up the stairs to her bedroom. Unfortunately, the noise was too much for Fletcher who came stomping back out of his library.
“Cease prattling!” he bellowed. “Can a man not get a moment’s peace in his own home?”
A little boy, still demanding attention. Even Mama saw it this time.
“We are a trial to you, aren’t we?” she said. “Why don’t you go to your club now and enjoy yourself? Perhaps it’s time for you to find a wife, hmmm? Someone who could smooth your troubled brow.”
Fletcher stiffened. “Do not instruct me about my affairs!” he growled.
“Fletcher,” Rebecca said gently, “she’s trying to express her love to you. She wants you to be happy.”
“By foisting a woman on me?”
“By encouraging you to find your own, whomever you want.”
“I am not a child to be a coddled! I swear, the two of you need to be told where to go and what to do.” He pointed his finger at her. “You will stay home and rest. You must look gorgeous for the baron. And Mama, you need to remember that all those women who prattle at you are merely trying to get close to me.” He lifted his chin. “This is the way it is in London, and you had best learn that now. Or I’ll send you both back home!”
After that, he headed for the door, stopping only to stare straight at Kynthea. She stared back, and for a moment Rebecca feared something ugly, though she had no idea what. To her shock, Fletcher softened, his expression becoming cordial.
“I am sorry you had to witness that, Miss Petrelli. I admire you, you know. You’ve played the game well and have nabbed a duke. Congratulations.”
He was quick as he caught her hand and drew it up for a slow kiss. Kynthea allowed it, though her wary look quickly smoothed down into a placid expression.
“I have been very lucky,” she said politely.
“Yes, you have. And maybe you and I can find a way to extend that luck.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Fletcher straightened to his full height. “But not if you lead my sister astray. She may be of age, but she is naïve in the ways of London. You must encourage her to take the guidance of her family who loves her.”
Kynthea’s brows arched. “You don’t think you’re being overprotective?”
Fletcher appeared to consider the thought. “Maybe, but I doubt it. My sister can be surprisingly willful at times. She knows the country, of course. She has managed well there for years. But here? No, I am a better judge of what is acceptable here.” He looked back fondly at Rebecca. “And she knows I have her best interests at heart. Don’t you, my dear?”
Rebecca knew the exact opposite was true, thanks to her dose of truth serum. Worse, she saw now that it was too late to reach the little boy inside him. There was too much anger in him, and she felt too betrayed to maintain this charade. “I know you think you do,” she said. “But I am my own person.”
His brows rose. “No, Rebecca. You are a woman.”
She knew he meant it as an insult. As a woman she had no power in the world or against him. And perhaps, on one level, that was true. But she had never looked to him for her self-worth. She was not about to start now.
Still, she swallowed down her response. He needed the last word to feel like he’d won. And so she lowered her gaze as if she were cowed. He snorted as if to cement his victory. Then hestrode for the front door, slowing long enough to grab his hat before departing.
She stared after him, her thoughts quietly churning. The gloves were off between them now. He’d never spoken so cruelly to her. Not in front of others. No doubt, he was feeling the pressure of his plans. She would have to hold out, though. If Nate had the timing right, she need only delay a few more days and this would all be over. The baron would be arrested for treason, and whatever schemes Fletcher had with the man would be gone.
