Page 101 of The Truth Serum
“Because gossip is cruel and always unfair.”
“You once said you were in love with him,” Fletcher continued. “Are you still?”
“I never said that,” she stated flatly. Because she’d been sixteen and her father had just had a heart attack from discovering them. She couldn’t claim love then. Not with the feud between their families re-ignited.
“You felt it. You cried—”
“For Father.”
“So he was an itch to scratch? Is that what you are? A whore to spread your legs—”
“Enough, Fletcher!” She pushed back from the breakfast table. “I am your sister, someone who loves you. But that does not give you the right to speak to me like that.”
He was silent for a long moment, then he nodded. “Of course. My apologies. But Rebecca, tell me the truth. Do you love him?”
“No.”
Lie.
“Then you’ll have no trouble with me increasing the speed of his fall.” A statement, not a question.
“What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “The ground is fertile now for all sorts of tales. Perhaps I’ll start with the one about how he killed our father.”
“You will not dredge that up! It will hurt me as much as him.”
“True,” her brother mused. “I suppose I’ll just have to hold that back for now.”
“For now? Fletcher, why do you insist on threatening me?” She looked at him. She hated this. He was her brother. She ought to feel better about him. They ought not be at war.
Meanwhile, he gave her a slow, deliberate smile. And with the way the sunlight was hitting his face, she was struck by how handsome he was. Curly brown hair with golden highlights. A sweet smile and earnest eyes. And words that sounded so nice and yet still managed to give her chills.
“Rebecca. You’re my sister. Why would I want to hurt you?”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth.
“I love you, and I’m just looking out for you.”
How easily he said the word “love.”
“I don’t need—”
He banged his hand down on the table hard enough to make her jump. “That’s where you’re wrong, Rebecca.” He spit out her name like bad meat. “This is a delicate time for you. You will heed my advice or I will send you back home. Immediately.”
And there again was the real threat. He would send her home. But that wasn’t as terrible a fate anymore. Back home, she could convince Henry that she was a spinster who wanted to live on her dower property, in quiet contemplation. But that wasn’t true. She wanted more out of her life than the hermit existence that he had. But she could convince her oldest brother of that and move on from there.
But what would Nate do? He’d be left without anyone to distract the baron, and Fletcher would get trapped in whatever nefarious activities the blasted man had going. She couldn’t do that for either man.
And so she bowed her head. She gave in to Fletcher because she only needed a few more days. Just until Tuesday’s ball. Then everything would look a lot different.
Seeing her diminished attitude, Fletcher straightened up from the table. “Have we reached an understanding?” he asked.
Delay. Delay. Delay. “Yes,” she said.
“Good. I have spoken with the baron. He’s received an invitation for the Penrose ball.”
She looked up. Nate worked fast.
