Page 10 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

R as watched the women go inside then pasted on a tight smile as he turned to Fletcher. He was fully aware that he’d just given the man a “win.” Just being seen publicly with Fletcher gave everyone the impression that he sided with Fletcher against Kynthea in that very public altercation.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but he needed Fletcher to think they were friends if he intended to get to the bottom of the man’s accusations against Nate.

He’d accused Nate of everything from petty secrets to destroying Fletcher’s family, not to mention driving a wedge between Fletcher and Ras.

That, at least, wasn’t true. Fletcher himself had destroyed their friendship by obsessing on Nate’s supposed perfidy their last year in school.

Nate had disappeared, Fletcher’s father had died, and when the boy returned to school, all he could talk about was how Nate had killed his family.

He’d been grieving, obviously, but there was only so much hatred and venom Ras could take.

He’d iced out Fletcher, and for that he felt some guilt.

Had he, inadvertently, added to Fletcher’s madness?

If so, then perhaps this walk would make some amends.

But in the meantime, he wanted to know—exactly—what Fletcher had discovered about Nate’s activities.

Thankfully, Kynthea understood the situation and had agreed to the public slight. It was one of the reasons he loved her. She saw the bigger picture, could be counted on to make sacrifices if necessary, and—best of all—no longer cared what the ton thought of her.

She loved him and so had promised to support his machinations in this matter. After all, Nate had become Kynthea’s friend first. Ras had realized what a treasure she was long afterwards.

“It’s a lovely day for a stroll,” Fletcher said, his expression genuinely happy.

Ras eyed the myriad people walking ever so slowly by them. Fletcher would want to parade their renewed friendship in front of the entire ton , but Ras had little interest in being so public.

“Let’s go to my stable. I want to check on the salve that Lady Zoe sent.

She says…” He frowned. Kynthea’s cousin Zoe was brilliant when it came to horses, but listening to her talk about them was like getting a lecture in Greek.

He couldn’t understand anything beyond the first few words.

“She said it’ll make them spry. Or something like that. ”

Fletcher chuckled. “You really did make the right choice in refusing to marry her. The two of you have nothing in common.”

They had a love of Kynthea in common, but that was about it. “Lady Zoe is very happy where she is. And very determined to win her bet against Prinny.”

The man made a delicate shudder. “No way to win in that situation. Stupid to win a bet against a royal and well, she’s not a girl who will lose gracefully.”

Ras shot Fletcher a sidelong glance. The man was perceptive. That was exactly Ras’s fear when he’d proposed the arrangement with Lady Zoe. Either way, that was a problem for another day.

“Fletcher,” he said as they rounded the corner into the alleyway. “You must know that I have not forgiven you for maligning my fiancée.”

The man huffed out a breath. “Honestly, Ras, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You told me so to my face.”

“We haven’t spoken in an age!”

Ras turned to face the man, studying his baffled expression.

If he didn’t know better, he’d believe Fletcher’s every word.

There was such sincerity in the man’s tone, such earnest passion that he led Ras to doubt himself.

But Ras did remember. And now he wondered how far Fletcher would take his lies.

“The day I brought Nate to my house,” Ras said. “You were outside his building. You told me what you’d done.”

“Yes!” Fletcher huffed. “I was trying to find out if he lived. You must know that he’s involved in…” He shook his head. “Unsavory things. He was at the docks. I told you that.”

“And what were you doing at the docks?”

He folded his arms. “Investigating! Don’t you know that there are smugglers everywhere? Right under our noses! Things that are supposed to be English are going other places. They’re going French places.”

“What things?”

Fletcher made a disgusted noise. “That’s what I was trying to find out.” He continued walking toward the stable doors. “England has always had smugglers. Cornwall was built upon it, for God’s sake. But it’s a bold man who manages it right here in London.”

Was there admiration in the man’s tone?

“You think Nate is smuggling something to Napoleon?”

Fletcher shrugged. “He’s always been one to play both sides. He’ll pretend to be your friend as long as it’s to his advantage. But the minute he doesn’t need you…” Fletcher made a stabbing motion with his fist. “He’s ruthless. He killed my father.”

That didn’t sound like Nate at all. Though again, Fletcher said it with such conviction that Ras had to reconsider certain things.

“Nate didn’t kill your father, Fletcher. He had a heart attack.”

“Brought on because of him! Good God, Ras, why can’t you see him clearly? Do you know what he does with his time?”

No, he didn’t. And that was where there was some truth to Fletcher’s ravings.

Nate had always been mysterious about his activities, brushing off questions with vague sayings like, “Oh, this and that. Here and there.” Several times he claimed to have spent some months in a certain lady’s arms, without ever naming the woman.

It could be true. Or it could all be lies. Ras had never pushed him for specifics, and Nate—even in his cups—had never told.

“You’re thinking of it, aren’t you?” Fletcher asked. “What do you really know of the man? Where does he go? How does he make his money?”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?”

Fletcher didn’t answer at first. He wandered into the stable, looking at the horses there. It was Ras’s private stable, housing his horses and vehicles in a modest display. A stableboy ran out to greet him and Ras waved him away. He didn’t intend to ride.

“It’s not bad business,” Fletcher finally said once the boy was out of earshot.

“What?”

“Some people—smart people—have always profited from war.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. Napoleon is a monster and all that. I’m sure we’ll defeat him eventually. But there is money to be made. If one is willing. And desperate.”

“And you think Nate is doing that.” The very idea made Ras’s stomach rebel. Not only because he couldn’t believe it of Nate, but also because the idea of profiting while men were dying made him physically ill.

Not so Fletcher. The man’s eyes practically gleamed.

“I think someone is doing that,” he said slowly. “I was investigating when I saw Lord Nathaniel skulking around the docks.”

“That’s what you were doing? Investigating?”

He pressed a hand to his heart. “I am a patriot. I don’t know what Lord Nathaniel is.” He lifted his chin. “And you don’t either.”

Ras didn’t argue. For all that Fletcher was sowing doubt, Ras knew he would trust Nate long before he trusted Fletcher.

He busied himself with looking at his horses.

Lady Zoe had sent a long list of instructions, and he was curious to see if there had been any change. Meanwhile, he kept his tone casual.

“What, exactly, did you see Nate do?”

“Exactly? Nothing. I saw the thieves tearing off his boots. He howled when they stomped on his foot, then he crawled away like a cockroach and fell into the Thames.”

Ras looked up, alarmed. “You didn’t stop them?”

“What could I do? I thought he was dead.”

“But you came back to his home.”

Fletcher nodded. “Certainly. I had to tell somebody, didn’t I? That he was dead.”

“But he wasn’t.”

“You found him.” Fletcher’s expression turned sour. “Is he recovering?”

“He’s getting better.” Ras stepped into the stall of his favorite mare, running his hands over the creature’s fetlock. Had the swelling gone down? Was she healthier? He had no idea.

“What has Nate said?”

“That he was having a pint with old friends.” He looked at Fletcher. “Back when we were kids, after he didn’t return to school, he spent some time on a merchant vessel. Made friends with the captain and they still get together when he’s in port.”

Fletcher scoffed. “And you believe him?”

“No reason not to.”

The man snorted. “You’re too gullible. Believe me, the man is up to no good.”

They were going in circles here to no point. Fletcher just wanted to lambast Nate while Ras was determined to learn details. “Did you find any evidence of smuggling? Or were you just watching Nate?”

Fletcher shot him an annoyed look. “I found something. Maybe.”

“What?”

“This isn’t the place to discuss it. Meet me at my club—”

“No.” Ras straightened up next to the mare. “This is more private than—”

“I told you!” Fletcher retorted. “I don’t object to the profit.

If a man finds himself short of funds—and I’ve experienced that here and there when Henry gets prickly with my allowance—then that man gets desperate to find a solution.

If he’s smart, he knows how to make coin.

And if the worst happens and that Corsican wins, then you’ve got a way to make sure your family survives. ”

Ras arched a brow. “By making up to Napoleon?”

Fletcher held the stall door open for him to step out. “He’s a monster, but sometimes monsters win. The families that survive take the long view.”

Or the traitorous view. “Did you find evidence of smuggling?”

“I know something,” Fletcher hedged. “I don’t know all.”

“Tell me—”

“You picked the better lady when you selected Miss Petrelli over Lady Zoe, but are you sure of her loyalties? She seems awfully fond of Lord Nathaniel. Sure, you’ve fallen head over heels for a woman.

We’re all stupid now and then. But you wouldn’t be the first man to reconsider while waiting for the banns to be called. ”

The first banns would be called next week and each successive week until they married in a month’s time. He had absolutely no intention of calling off the wedding. He was more in love with Kynthea every day. But Fletcher was hinting at something, and Ras wanted to know what that was.

“You want me to throw over Kynthea? Why?”

“If she’s a traitor to the crown, you have to throw her over—”

“What the devil are you talking about? Kynthea’s no traitor and I’ll call you out if you say such a thing again!”

Fletcher abruptly backed up a step, his hands raised in surrender. But even as he appeared apologetic, his slanderous words continued.

“Of course, she isn’t. Of course not! But what if Nathaniel is?

What if he’s right now tempting her with easy money.

She doesn’t have any, you know, and a woman likes to come into a marriage with something to offer her husband.

Perhaps she just wants to buy you a bridal gift.

Where is she going to get the money but—”

“Stop it.” There was only so much Ras could take, even in the name of getting information out of Fletcher. “I will hear no more of this. Do not ever speak of Kynthea again, to me or anyone else.”

Fletcher bowed his head. “Of course, of course. I am only looking out for you. You’re a duke and so many people will lie straight to your face.

” He put on a winning smile. “Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about that with my sister.

You don’t know her well because she’s been with my mother at home.

But she’s here now. A good woman. Beautiful, refined, and knows when to listen to wiser people. ”

That was not how Nate described Lady Rebecca.

“I’m sure she’s a fine woman,” he said, merely because polite responses had been drilled into him from the cradle.

Fletcher smiled. “You haven’t seen her in a while. We should head back and let you do the pretty with her.”

Ras looked at the man, seeing that he was all smiles and what appeared to be genuine warmth. And it was because Fletcher was so good at that—at seeming to be genuine—that Ras gave an honest answer.

“I will not throw over Kynthea.”

“Of course not! You’re too honorable a man to do that. But if Nate is leading her astray—”

“Suggest that again—to anyone—and I will destroy you.”

Was there a flash of annoyance in the man’s eyes? It was hard to tell. Whatever emotions flitted through Fletcher, they were quickly gone. The man’s eyes softened, his expression grew fond.

“Of course, Ras. I would never hurt someone you love. But it’s good having someone look out for you, isn’t it? Just like I used to?”

They started walking back toward the house as Fletcher reminisced about the things they’d done when Ras had first gone to Eton.

Fletcher was older by a year and had taken the young, future duke under his wing.

Everyone had known who he was. They’d either wanted to cozy up or skewer him, depending upon their nature, and Fletcher had been a welcome bulwark against all that confusing attention.

It was thanks to Fletcher that he’d survived his first year.

And thanks to him that he’d passed Greek, because he was bollocks at ancient languages.

But then Ras’s father had died, and Fletcher couldn’t seem to handle the emotions that blew like storms through the boy he’d been. Nate had, though. They’d been roommates at the time, and Nate had stood by him through every raging moment.

And that was just the beginning of the things that had cemented their friendship.

Still, there had been good times with Fletcher, especially that first year. And in the walk back to the house, Fletcher brought up the best ones. Which meant Ras was smiling when they made it back onto the street, and chuckling when they entered his home.

Then they both saw the disaster in his front foyer.