Page 41 of The Truth Serum
Well, that was plain speaking. She hadn’t thought her dower property all that valuable. It was pretty, of course, situated right on the Cornish coast. But she realized now that it likely abutted the baron’s property. And perhaps any land was valuable.
Meanwhile, her brother decided that was enough plain speaking. “Baron, we will discuss this matter in the morning.” Then he grabbed her arm as if to drag her away.
“And what of my proposal?” Nate challenged. His tone was light, but his hand was still gently clasped about her elbow. Then he drew her hand to his mouth and lightly pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Shall I get down on one knee?”
“Don’t you dare!” she muttered, knowing full well that he would. And indeed, there he went, dropping down before her.
“I am quite sincere,” he said and the hell of it was that he probably thought that the truth. The man was ridiculous, and yet, her heart lurched to see him down on one knee before her. If only he’d lived up to the promise of what he’d been as a teenager.
How she’d dreamed of their future together. Him, as a respected leader. Her, with their children about them. In her mind’s eye, she’d given him all sorts of different careers. Banker,barrister, advisor to the king. Never once had she seen him as a man who lived off of gossip gleaned during other people’s parties.
It hurt to see him so small. Worse, he was making fun of something so serious. Marriage. Love. He played at them, and she turned her head away from the sight.
“Iwill pick my husband,” she said her tone loud. “And I do not choose either of you.”
She wanted to stomp off in a huff. She did not enjoy such spectacles. But before she could leave, she had to manage the baron. She couldn’t leave him like that, sitting in the dirt and looking shocked that she didn’t want him. It was the effects of the serum, and she couldn’t abandon him until it had worn off.
But she couldn’t stay either. That would be tantamount to accepting his proposal.
Damn it. Whyever had she even mentioned that silly serum?
She looked around her. There was no one here whom she trusted to keep the secret of what she’d done. No one except Nate. He might be a society fribble, but he’d proved his loyalty to her. He’d never betray her.
So he was her only option.
Shaking off Fletcher’s hand, she turned back to Nate who was still on one knee. “Oh get up,” she huffed. He came up easily. The man had always been nimble. And then she leaned forward to hurriedly whisper in his ear.
“I gave the baron a truth serum. Please watch him until he’s better.”
Shock flared across his expression. “What?” Then his gaze ticked to the baron and back, showing he understood what she’d said.
“Please,” she whispered. “There is no one else.”
He stared at her, then his gaze flicked not to the baron but to the shrubbery where a maid hovered in the shadows. Is that what had brought him out here? An assignation with a maid?
“Nevermind,” she huffed, but he cut her off.
“I’ll help,” he said in an undertone as he brushed dirt off his pants. Then he straightened, his gaze heavy as he arched a brow.
It was a particular look, one he’d perfected when they were young. And it told her that their conversation wasn’t done. Indeed, when they were kids, that look meant he would sneak to her bedroom in the dead of night. She never let him in. Well, except for once and that was only because it was raining. Usually he would hang from the ivy by her window as they talked. Or kissed.
Fortunately, there was no ivy by her London window. There would be no dead of the night whispers or anything else. And that made her sad. But everyone had to grow up sometime, and she no longer risked her reputation on midnight rendezvous.
Instead, she looked back at the baron. He was now inspecting his hands, moving them through the air as if he were running them through water. “The air is different,” he murmured.
“I’ll see he gets home safely,” Nate said, his voice gentle.
“Thank you.”
Nate bowed before her in a courtly move reminiscent of an earlier age. It was a silly gesture, but one that made her smile. And if she hadn’t felt so guilty about the whole debacle, she might have laughed. But as it was, she could only feel gratitude toward him. He was doing her a kindness when not an hour before, she’d given him the cut direct.
“Are you quite finished?” Fletcher drawled, fury vibrating in his voice.
“Yes, brother,” she murmured as she moved to his side. She had to find a way to mollify the man before he started taking out his irritation on her. Or anyone else who happened to be in hisway. She didn’t much care if he screamed at her. It was how she kept the peace, and it was a small price to pay for doing what she wanted. Let him bellow after the fact. But she didn’t want him harping at the servants. He’d done that at home when he was angry, and she’d always had to find ways to make amends.
Sometimes, she wondered if it was worth it. Why did she give his moods free reign over her life? The answer was that she didn’t. Not at home. But this was London where she wanted to remain for the rest of the Season. That required his charity, and so she would allow him to rant at her. She was of age, so he couldn’t force her to marry anyone she didn’t choose.
They walked smartly back to the carriage, neither saying a word. That held until they were both inside the vehicle. Then he began his tirade.
