Page 47 of The Truth Serum
“He has a temper, Becca. A bad one.”
She swallowed. “So it would seem.”
Good. She’d figured that out on her own. She’d never been stupid. Except, of course, with him.
“And what will you do if Fletcher keeps pushing you?”
She sighed and plucked at the blanket. “I already told him I wouldn’t marry the baron.”
“And?”
“He lectured me.”
“And when you still won’t? What will happen?”
“I don’t know. He might send me home.” She stared down at her hands. “He’s never been so determined before. At home, I could always delay things until he was gone. I could pretend and—”
“And make him think he’d gotten his way?”
She nodded.
“You’re afraid of him,” he guessed.
“I’m afraid of being sent home. I’m useful there, but it’s not what I want for the rest of my life.”
“But Fletcher’s never been so adamant before,” Nate pressed. “Never this determined?”
“He’s my brother. He’s trying to protect me.” She said the words like a litany. As if she were trying to convince herself, and he hated it. He hated that the girl he’d known had become this shadow of herself, whispering lies as reassurance.
Damn it, he needed her to listen. “Your brothers have never protected you. It’s been you taking care of them. From the beginning, it’s always been you.” Her father had been the one in charge of the family, but when he died, it had all fallen on her. Especially since her mother was useless.
She glared at him. “They’re busy men with a great deal of things to do. And I can take care of myself.”
He leaned forward, squeezing her knees as he tried to impress his next words on her. “That’s right. You can. You don’t need them to tell you who to marry or what to do.”
“I’m not going to marry the baron! I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He didn’t know either. Or rather, he knew—he wanted her to say she would marry him—but knew that wasn’t possible. At the moment, his hope was that they could be friends.
“You have so much to offer a man,” he said softly. “You are so much more than your dowry. Do not settle for anyone who doesn’t see that. You’d be better off alone.”
She snorted. “Spoken like a man who hasn’t been controlled by others his whole life. Without Henry’s say-so, I can’t have my dowry. Without Fletcher’s escort, I can’t meet eligible gentlemen. If Mama says she needs me, I am not allowed to leave the house. I am not better off alone,” she said. “I am better off married to a good man.”
He looked at where he touched her. She had set her hands upon his to emphasize her point, and now he flipped his hands over so they were palm to palm. How he wanted to touch so much more of her. If only she’d—
“And you, Lord Nathanial, who are so free… What have you done with your freedom since leaving home ten years ago?”
He winced. He knew what lies he had to say. What he always said.Oh, this and that. I’ve been here and there. All in a good day’s fun, eh?But he already knew how she would react to that. She’d see the words for the empty platitudes they were, and she’d never open up to him again. Not if that was all he gave her in return.
But what could he say? Not that he’d been working for the war effort since the day he left their borough. Not that he spoke five different languages plus a dead one. That he’d travelled enough to see that people could be awful to one another, and that he missed the comfort of home. And that he couldn’t be honest with his friends, and that made him so achingly lonely that he would climb into her bedroom in the middle of the night just so he could talk so someone who remembered the boy he’d been. Who remembered and didn’t call him a scapegrace.
Except, of course, now she would. Because he couldn’t tell her.
“Nate?”
“I have done nothing of note. Nothing as worthy as caring for my family even when they’re awful. Nothing as intelligent aslearning how to dose sick children. Nothing…” Nothing that he could tell her.
“So it’s true. You’ve just wandered about. Ten years of indulging yourself?”
