Page 10 of The Truth Serum
“I see,” Ras said.
No, he really didn’t. But he knew more than nearly everyone else outside of the Foreign Office.
Ras waited a bit, no doubt hoping that Nate would break down and share more information. He wouldn’t, but Ras always tried. In the end, he sighed.
“Keep your secrets,” he said. “I came in here to talk about Fletcher.”
Nate winced. Rebecca’s brother was a problem. Always. He was the man who constantly stood between Nate and Rebecca. He was the one who blamed his father’s death on their tendre. He was the one who had intercepted Nate’s gossip columns to add extra damaging paragraphs, attacking Kynthea under the guise of Nate’s alias, Mr. Pickleherring. Why? He’d said it was to discredit Nate in Ras’s eyes.
As if that wasn’t convoluted. No sane man could understand.
Which, of course, was the point. He wasn’t exactly sure Fletcher was sane.
“I think he’s been following me,” Nate said. In fact, Nate had a feeling that Fletcher had set the ruffians on him in the first place. He didn’t want to think that the man hated him that much, but he couldn’t discount the possibility. Which was a much better scenario than the one where Fletcher was a French spy. None of which made logical sense, but that was the whole problem. Fletcher didn’t make sense.
Ras leaned forward. “Did Fletcher attack you? At the docks?”
“It was five men who wanted money and my boots. I have no idea what Fletcher wants.”
Ras frowned, clearly thinking hard, but he didn’t pursue the topic. “I’ve spoken with the newspaper. Mr. Pickleherring’s gossip column is gone for good.”
Nate sighed. That had been one of his few reliable sources of income. “Another columnist will take up the mantle.”
“But it won’t be you.”
“It wasn’t me anyway. Not toward the end.”
Ras didn’t comment as he wrung out the washcloth and handed it to Nate. Except Nate couldn’t reach his feet without straining his ribs. After two painful attempts, he gave up with a grunt.
“See?” Ras taunted. “You need help.” He took the cloth, lifted the linen off Nate’s feet, and began unwrapping the bandages. Once that was done, he began washing Nate’s abused feet.
Fortunately, the wounds he’d acquired while trying to walk home with broken toes, appeared to be healing nicely. But before he could comment, Ras shot him a hard look.
“So what do you think Fletcher saw that night? Why was he there? Why is he following you?”
Nate winced as he glared up at the ceiling. He hated lying here helpless, staring at the ceiling while someone else tried to help him. Especially since there wasn’t anything his friend could do.
“It’s not your problem.”
“I’ve had Kynthea invite Lady Rebecca over for tea.”
Nate jolted. “What?”
“You heard me. Look, I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years, but I’m beginning to guess. Let me help you.”
“By bringing Rebecca here?” Right downstairs, when he couldn’t walk without a crutch. Damn it, it would be torture to have her so close and not be able to talk to her!
“She’ll naturally want to see how you’re faring, won’t she? We can arrange a sick room visit. You could ask her about Fletcher.”
Fletcher would be the last thing on his mind when he was talking to her. God, he’d longed for just such an opportunity. Ever since her father had caught them doing so much more than kissing.
“Will she tell you why Fletcher seems intent on destroying you?” Ras pressed. “Should I talk to her instead?”
“No!” Nate struggled onto his elbows. “I need to talk to her. It needs to be me.”
Ras finished cleaning one foot and went on to the other. “I’ll see what can be done to arrange it, but it’ll only work if she comes alone.”
True, but the odds were strong that she’d be alone. “Her mother prefers to hold court rather than go out visiting.”
