Page 40 of The Truth Serum
“Your dress—”
“Not so bad.” Not so great either. The skirt had ripped at the seam right under her bodice, so now there was a gaping hole that revealed her shift underneath her left breast. She grabbed the loose fabric and did her best to tuck it underneath the ribbon, but it was useless. She would have to stand there and hold it up.
Meanwhile Fletcher was being Fletcher. “Get your hands off of her!” he cried as he tried to grab hold of her arm. He would have caught her too if Nathaniel hadn’t blocked her brother.
Meanwhile, the baron had stopped roaring. Instead, he lay on the ground chuckling to himself.
“Stop it, Fletcher,” she said, her voice weary. “I’m fine.”
“Yes,” the baron said as he pushed himself into a seated position on the ground. “It’s good, Fletcher. She will make me an excellent wife. Just as you promised.”
“Of course she will!” Fletcher huffed. “And this would have been done in the proper way if Lord Nathaniel hadn’t embarrassed himself and everyone—”
“Enough Fletcher,” she said, fully irritated by the entire situation. Of everyone here, Nate was the least guilty. She, of course, was the most culpable, given that she’d dosed the baron with the truth serum.
“Be quiet!” her brother growled. “I’m trying to recover the situation for you.”
The baren let his head drop back as he if appreciating the breeze on his half naked body. “There is no recovery,” he said. “We will be married as soon as the banns are read.” Then he turned to grin at her. “I am excited by the thought.”
She folded her arms. “My brother cannot give away my hand without my consent—”
“What a happy situation!” Fletcher cried over her. He leaned down to help the baron gain his feet. “Especially since you have clearly been celebrating a bit too soon. But there are people here, Baron. Best put your shirt on.”
“Bah,” the man said as he gained his feet. “She likes the sight of me.”
“She does not,” Rebecca corrected, but it didn’t penetrate the baron’s self-absorption.
“Feel this soil,” the baron said as he grabbed a fistful of it and squeezed. “Good English dirt. Gritty. Smelly.”
The man was still enthralled by feeling things. As if smelling dirt was a fine thing to do in the middle of a ball.
“Never fear,” Fletcher continued, his voice growing louder. “I shall have the marriage contract drawn up tomorrow. This is a happy day!”
“Stop it!” Rebecca said. “I’ll not—”
“Look around you. You’re ruined!” her brother snarled in an undertone. “Take your medicine and be happy that your reputation can be saved by marriage.”
“Not to—”
“If a marriage is needed,” Nate said, his voice dominating everyone. “Then let me extend my hand as I ask for yours, Lady Rebecca.”
There was a moment’s stunned silence as Nate’s words seemed to echo in the air. Even Rebecca, who remembered how Nate was prone to sweeping statements, was shocked by his words.
But then she recovered.
“I’m not marrying anyone!” she cried. “Not because of…” She cut off her words. She couldn’t confess to using a truth serum. “The baron overindulged this evening. That is all. Now, Fletcher, I should like to go home. Let the others recover as they see fit.”
She felt a great deal of guilt at saying that. Shouldn’t someone stay with the baron to make sure there were no other ill effects? He seemed healthy enough sitting there and looking up at the stars through the leaves, but one never knew withmedicines. Though, of everyone, he seemed the most serene as he slowly turned to her.
“You mean that, don’t you?” he said, sounding shocked. “You don’t want to marry me?”
“Don’t listen to her,” Fletcher snapped as he brushed dirt off his jacket. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
The baron shifted, leaning back against a tree truck. “Say it again,” he said to Rebecca.
“I do not love you,” she said, knowing it was true. “Do you love me?”
He gaped at her. “Good God, no! It’s your land I want.” Then his gaze turned soft as he looked at her bodice. “And those magnificent breasts.”
