Page 4 of The Truth Serum
“Yes, Fle—”
“I’ve done a great deal to arrange your visit to London. I’ve told all the right people that you’re here. I know Mama would like to rest this evening and I haven’t the time to squire you about today anyway, but it’s time to get serious about marriage.”
She bristled at the statement but didn’t interrupt. It only caused more delays. Besides, he was right. She was much older than most girls in their come-out, and though she’d been to London on and off for the last five years, she’d never caught a husband. And now, at twenty-seven years old, she was technically on the shelf, but she still had hopes. Fortunately, she’d sent her measurements ahead, and several gowns should be waiting for her upstairs.
“I should be happy to accompany you tomorrow,” she said, hoping it was true.
“Good. I’ve primed the pump with several gentlemen, and thanks to your dowry, you should take with one of them. But you must follow my directions.”
Follow his directions? “Fletch, I’m perfectly capable of selecting my own husband—”
Her brother dropped down to one knee before her, his expression kind even if his words were not. “I don’t want to hurtyou, but it’s time for plain speaking, don’t you think?” He turned on that last bit, his brow arched at their mother.
Right on cue, Mama sighed and nodded. “He’s right, dear. You’ve had five Seasons to find a husband.”
“Interrupted Seasons, late start Seasons,” Rebecca reminded them, but Fletcher squeezed her hands to silence her.
“And you’ve always gone for the wrong kind of gentleman.Always.”
She winced. Always her family returned to her indiscretion when she was sixteen. They had good reason to. What she’d done was foolish and had had dire consequences. But why did one mistake when she was a teenager have to color her entire life?
“That was ten years ago,” she said. “I’m a grown woman now.”
“Of course you are,” he soothed, “but you’ve led a sheltered life. You don’t know London the way I do, and you certainly don’t understand men. Add in your very large dowry, and every blackguard in England will be trying to seduce you.”
“I know—”
“I won’t let you fall for another rake or scoundrel.”
She hadn’t fallen for anyone. She’d never had the chance. As soon as she showed a partiality to anyone, she’d been whisked away back to Cornwall because Mama fell ill or something had to be managed there. Bad timing or ill luck didn’t matter. She’d ended up aging another year with no appropriate suitor. Even this Season was already underway because Fletcher had said he couldn’t find the time to escort her until now.
“I’ll be careful,” she said. “I’m not so gullible—”
He sighed and truly looked apologetic as he began listing off all the gentlemen she’d shown some partiality toward. “Do you recall Mr. O’Brien? Debtor’s prison right now. How about that Van Der Berg gentleman? He was drummed out of society for scandalous activities. Then there was Lord Cholmondeley. Atleast he had a title, but what a rake! My dear, you fell for them all and if we hadn’t gotten you back home, you’d be miserable right now, married to a wretch, and fat with his babe.”
She looked away. She truly had enjoyed the company of those gentlemen. If they were now exposed as fortune hunters, then she really didn’t know how to judge London company. And that thought ate at her confidence.
“I won’t mention the men back home,” he added with a repulsed shudder.
“There haven’t been any,” she snapped. Except for Nate, but that had been ten years ago.
“Nevertheless, you must see my point. You don’t know anyone in London or how to judge their true intentions.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Her friends from school might not be here, but there were girls she’d met during other Seasons. Most were married with children now, but she planned to visit as many as she could. “I’ve been writing to several of my friends,” she said. “If you would give me the schedule, I—”
“Yes, yes, of course I’ll tell you the schedule. Every morning over breakfast, I’ll tell you where you’re going and who you’ll meet. I’ve got it all planned, so you needn’t worry about anything.”
“I’m not worried—” she said.
“Good. Because I’m running for our seat in the House of Commons. There’s a lot to do with managing that, meeting the right people, and greasing the right palms.”
She winced. She didn’t like to think that her government ran on bribes, but according to Fletcher, everyone everywhere wanted a bribe and only a fool would ignore that.
“Oh don’t worry,” Mama said as she beamed at Fletcher. “Henry will support you. You’re very well thought of back home. You’ll get the votes.”
Henry was her oldest brother and the current viscount. He held his place in the House of Lords by virtue of being born first. Fletcher, on the other hand, had to make his political bones in the House of Commons, and that required the county to vote him in. And not everyone back home loved him.
Fletcher smiled. “You see me with the eyes of love, Mama. But in order for this family to prosper, we must all pitch in. And that means Rebecca cannot make a bad marriage.”
