Page 87 of The Truth Serum
They’d fallen asleep on that question. And this morning had offered no time for further examination. And now she was headed home to face Fletcher with no clarity and no way to sortthrough the knot of her feelings. Did she love Nate? Did she want to marry him? Or did she want to wash her hands of the whole thing and go back to the life she’d built in Cornwall?
Not that. Of course, not that! But something similar. Money of her own. A home where she could do what she wanted without worrying about anyone else. But why did that life seem so small compared to what Nate’s had been?
She had no answer as the carriage pulled up in front of their London home. She disembarked, watching as the footman carried Dorothy’s carpetbag and a small valise that held her ballgown from the night before. As she walked, she tried not to tremble as she approached the front door.
It was opened by their butler, a man who had a disapproving look for everyone, herself included. When she entered the house, her mother cast her an imperious sniff before turning her back on her.
Oh dear.
“Mama,” she called. “I have some wonderful news. I spent the evening with the duke’s fiancée, and she has asked me to be one of her bridesmaids! That means you shall have a prime seat at the duke’s wedding. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Her mother paused on the stairsteps, turning around slowly as she appeared to consider the news. Mama was making a show of it, but Rebecca knew that the prospect of a ducal wedding was enough to occupy the woman for weeks to come.
“We’ll need to discuss your dress—” Rebecca began, but she was forestalled by Fletcher’s interruption. He stood to her left, having just stepped out of the library which was his exclusive domain.
“A bridesmaid,” he drawled slowly. “You were supposed to become friends with Ras, not that woman.” He sneered that last word.
Rebecca sighed. “I do not know what you hoped to accomplish with that. The duke is deeply enamored of Miss Petrelli. It does no good to disdain her if you want to maintain a relationship with him.”
He took a hard step forward, his manner calm, but his eyes glittering with fury. “Do not seek to school me on relationships.”
She lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t dare,” she drawled. “You obviously know everything about everyone.”
Never before had she used such sarcasm with him or anyone. But her night with Nate had emboldened her. She knew Fletcher’s “guidance” was nothing more than his pride dressed up as social machinations. He might be better at it than their mother, but they were machinations nonetheless and she was weary of it.
“Now if you’ll excuse me—” she said.
“Who are these people?” he interrupted.
Ah yes. She needed to make the introductions. “This is Miss Dorothy Shaw, my new maid. I thought Missy could use a holiday. She’s been working so hard.”
“Missy has been dismissed.”
She blinked. “What?”
“She was impertinent. She has been sacked.”
“Without discussing it with me? She’s my maid!”
Fletcher’s brows rose. “She is my servant. I pay her salary. I decide whether she stays or goes.”
“Henry pays her wages!”
“Then she can apply to him if she wants to return, but I will not have her in my house.”
Rebecca stared at her brother. She didn’t bother arguing that Henry paid him an allowance for everything in their London home as well. Fortunately, she knew that Missy was indeed missing Cornwall and had enough money to pay for passage home. Rebecca would write to Henry to make sure he made goodon her wages. And she would write a reference as well, trusting to Henry to see it delivered.
“Well then,” Rebecca finally said. “I am pleased that I found a replacement so quickly.”
“And this man?” Fletcher asked.
The footman bowed. “I’m here to help move their things, sir. Then I’ll be on my way.”
Fletcher snorted. “Have you hired a woman so frail that she can’t carry her own valise?”
“No sir,” Dorothy said as she took hold of the carpetbag. “If you’ll just show me to your room, milady, I’ll start my duties right away. Your gown needs airing, and maybe you could do with a lie-down while I refresh—”
“My sister is occupied,” Fletcher snapped. “Rebecca, join me in the library.” It was a command, not a request. “I should love to hear everything that transpired last night. It seems you had quite the adventure.”
