Page 95 of The Truth Serum
“Yes, she does,” he said, the words automatic. Then he stepped forward to help steady her on the opposite side. “How are you feeling?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I’m quite lovely.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “You are.” Because at this moment she looked positively radiant.
She turned to look at him, her expression beaming. “That was the truth!” she said. “I can hear it in your voice.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came to mind. Her expression was one he’d never seen on her before, not even when she was sixteen. She was open and happy, and looking at him like he was completely new. As if she’d never truly seen him before and was fascinated by the sight.
“Say something else,” she urged.
Was she drunk? He couldn’t smell any alcohol on her, but there was definitely something different.
“I’m here because I was worried about you. Did you have any problems with Fletcher?”
She grinned. “You really were worried!”
He frowned. “Becca—”
Kynthea interrupted, her voice loud. “This gown will be perfect,” she said. “Do you think we can have it altered in time?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” said the modiste with a deep curtsey.
“I’m not ‘Your Grace’ yet,” Kynthea murmured. “And perhaps you have a private room where we could have a spot of tea? Just so Lady Rebecca can sit for a moment and have refreshments?”
“Right back here,” the modiste answered with a gesture. “No one will hear. I’ll make sure of it.” Then she looked at Nate. “If my lord would sit back there, I can get the tea prepared—”
“While I help Rebecca change,” Kynthea finished. “Yes, that will work.” She looked at Nate. “We’ll just be a moment.”
Clearly there was something wrong, but he knew better than to push. Not with servants hovering nearby. And yet, his worry for Becca kept him in place. “What happened?” he pressed, sotto voice.
“Fletcher dosed her,” Kynthea answered, her voice equally low. “She’s fine. Just a little fuzzy.”
Fury rolled through him, smashing past a dozen mental barriers that usually kept his thoughts to himself. His hands tightened, and it took him a moment to control them enough to help Becca walk behind a screen. When he could finally speak, he pushed out three words.
“Dosed. With. What?”
Becca turned, proving that there was nothing wrong with her hearing. “A truth serum,” she said, her expression shifting back and forth between happiness and a frown. “It was wrong of him, but I don’t mind anymore. It was awful for a bit, but Kynthea’s here and now you are, too. I’m happy. And this dress feels so good.” Then she ran her hands down the silk gown. It was clearly meant for her experience, but the gesture started at her chest and ran over her breasts. Her nipples pebbled as her body arched.
Oh good God. Now his body was thickening when he really needed a calm head. Because if he gave into emotions now, he’d likely go beat Fletcher to a bloody pulp.
“I’m so glad you like it,” Kynthea said, her tone light. “Now let’s get you out of it so madame can work on it.”
“But it’s perfect!”
“Not with all those pins in it. Come on. Raise up your arms.”
Meanwhile, Nate sat down in the secluded alcove. He needed to make some quick decisions. First off, Becca was not going to be alone with Fletcher ever again. That meant she needed another place to live. Back home in Cornwall? She’d probably be safe there, though it ached to think of sending her away.
He could marry her, of course. Right now. But where would she live? Until this current situation was resolved, he was holed up in Ras’s guest bedroom. Hardly an appropriate place to take a new wife. But it was still a possibility.
He was mulling over options—each one more ridiculous than the last—when Kynthea and Becca joined him. Becca moved in that same floaty way. And when she sat, she kept trying to remain upright only to slowly sink into a half sprawl. It would be adorable, if he weren’t worried for her safety.
“When did this happen?” he asked, his voice low.
Becca appeared fascinated by the design painted on the wall, so Kynthea answered as she poured the tea.
“I think soon after she returned to her home. Fletcher was waiting for her. I didn’t get there until several hours later. By that time she was much better—”
