Page 6 of The Truth Serum
Rebecca watched him leave, her hands twisting together as the feel of his dry kiss lingered on her cheek. She didn’t want to rely on her brother. She didn’t want to rely on anyone, but he did have a point. She didn’t know the members of the peerage, and it was hard to judge a man’s character during a dance.
Who else could she rely on to give her good information?
She had no answer to that for a very long time. Indeed, it wasn’t until late that night when she was talking with her maidthat the girl offered up an alternative suggestion. It was a bad one, of course, but such was the nature of gossip and whispers.
“A truth serum?” she said as she stared at Missy. “You must be joking.”
“Am not! It’s been the talk of theton.”
Missy and a couple other servants had arrived in London three days ago. She’d been in charge of seeing that Rebecca’s gowns were well made. And in that time, Missy had sought out all the London gossip.
“But whyever do you think that would work?” Rebecca pressed.
“Because that same apothecary gave the Duke of Harle a love potion. A couple dabs here and there, and poof! Miss Kynthea Petrelli is engaged to a duke! Their wedding is in a few weeks, just after the end of the Season.”
“Because of a love potion? But if he knows—”
“Doesn’t matter! He’s besotted with her. It’s the talk—”
“Of theton. Yes, you’ve said. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
Missy sat down across from her mistress, her expression earnest.
“I heard your brother. We all did. You’re an heiress, and all them London gents only want your money.”
“Not every man is a fortune hunter.”
“But how are you going to know the difference?” She patted Rebecca’s knee. “Just tell me the word, and I’ll pop over and get you the serum. You can drop it a gent’s wine with no one the wiser. Then just ask him. Do you want me or my money?” Missy winked. “He’ll answer with the truth and then you’ll know.”
“I can’t go dosing a gentleman without his knowledge.”
“Course you can. Just pour a good measure into a man’s drink, wait twenty minutes, and then he’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“That’s silly,” Rebecca pronounced.
“Maybe,” her maid returned. “And maybe not. How are you going to know if you don’t try it?”
A truth serum? Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t know…” she said.
“It’s only a few quid,” Missy said as she set Rebecca’s purse in her hand. “What harm could it do?”
Plenty. She knew enough about medicines and supposed cures to realize that not all of them were harmless. What worked for one person might be poison to another. But for the most part, magic elixirs were a waste of money. Their only danger was in how much coin was spent to buy it.
“It’s a waste of money,” Rebecca said.
Missy grinned. She knew Rebecca too well. “You want to try it, don’t you?”
No. Well, maybe. She was interested in medicines, and the idea of a serum that would force a gentleman to tell her the truth? Well that was intriguing on so many levels.
“Can you find out what it’s made of? How to administer it, and who should take it?”
“Course I can,” Missy answered as she pocketed the pound notes from Rebecca.
“I won’t use it,” Rebecca said. “Not until I know a great deal more about it.”
“Course you won’t. But if a gentleman presses you before you’re sure, you’ll have it to hand.” Then her maid paused. “But it’s a magic spell, you see. So you won’t know as much as you like.”
There was no magic spell. Of that she was certain. In her last few years studying medicine with the widow Chenoweth, she’d learned that potions had no need for special words beyond blessings. The “magic” so to speak, was in the ingredients.
