Page 24 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

A s expected, Nate’s meeting with Heidi Frid went quickly.

She managed to tell him that Madame had no truck with rifles.

Indeed, the woman wouldn’t be able to tell a rifle from a pistol if they were shoved in her face.

Monsieur, on the other hand, had been bragging about a secret business.

A new venture with none other than Baron Courbis.

Intriguing, but hardly damning.

He took what time he could questioning Heidi.

Nate knew that Madame and Monsieur smuggled goods into England.

That was why he’d gone to their party in the first place.

Even if Frid hadn’t wanted to speak to him, he would have pressed for a meeting with her.

She knew everything that Madame did. Unfortunately, she was less well informed on Monsieur’s activities.

But she was sure that Baron Courbis was involved.

Apparently, he and Monsieur were very friendly now, when previously they’d had very little to do with one another.

Indeed, Nate had been surprised to see the baron at the Joguet ball, but had assumed it was for Becca. How intriguing that it was more.

The baron, after all, was on the Board of Ordinance. That was an important government position that gave him access to the Tower of London and all the guns inside. If anyone could get British rifles, it would be him. And if anyone could smuggle those guns out of England, it would be Monsieur.

He’d thanked Heidi, paid her the fifty pound bribe, and then rushed across Mayfair to get to the lending library that was attached to the Minerva Press. He made it there just as Mr. Vawdrey opened the front door.

“Lord Nathaniel!” the man said with a surprised smile. “It’s been months since you’ve visited and never when the doors open.”

“True enough,” he answered with a yawn. “But sometimes a story grips me, and I must have the next part.”

“I completely understand. I’ll bring you fresh tea as soon as I can. Will you be in your regular spot?”

“Yes,” Nate said as he once again scanned the people who were waiting to enter the large library. Several women, a few with babes, and a couple footmen likely sent to retrieve an order. Becca, however, was nowhere in sight. “Can you bring service for two?”

“Of course, my lord. What name should we wait for?”

Nate chuckled. “She’ll ask for me.” He had no idea if Becca would come as herself or dressed incognito.

Either way, she’d either see him or ask someone.

The entire staff knew him here, though most thought he came to read.

Those in the peerage thought he had a secret delight in reading scandalous novels—which was true—and would say he was hiding away here to avoid an angry husband. At least that’s what he told them.

“Very good, my lord,” said the young man.

Nate doffed his hat and headed for the coziest reading corner in the large place.

As he passed, several of the employees looked up and smiled.

He returned their greeting while sauntering to the back room by the Minerva Press offices.

A pair of chairs sat next to a fire, and to one side was a desk set for his exclusive use.

He never actually used it except for the locked drawer in which resided several thick journals.

He drew out the top one, then sat back with pencil in hand as he began reading.

He did those things by habit, not intention, because he couldn’t focus on the words.

Not while keeping an eye out for Becca. And not while memories of their last encounter kept spinning through his thoughts.

It had been several days now since he’d climbed to her window, but in that time, she’d never been far from his mind.

Becca now was so different than what he’d imagined.

She’d always been thoughtful, but now she seemed to triple-think everything.

There was anger in her that had never been there before.

But damn if she wasn’t ten times as sexy.

That buttoned-down exterior had come apart the minute he’d kissed her.

She’d gripped him whenever he’d tried to draw back.

And the moment he’d touched her breasts, she had all but melted.

He hadn’t liked the undercurrent of desperation he’d felt, but he wasn’t sure that was her. After all, he’d spent the last ten years desperate for her. And once he’d touched her, it had taken everything in him to pull back even after he’d seen her tears.

But why had she been crying?

That was the question that ate at him. She’d been enthusiastic, wildly so. But then why the tears? What had he done wrong?

He was still pondering this when Mr. Vawdrey brought him the tea service.

Becca had not arrived, as far as he could tell, so he would let it sit.

But then Anthony Newman surprised him by sitting down for tea.

The man was the publisher for Minerva Press, and he was the reason Nate had avoided the library of late.

“Good morning, my lord!” Mr. Newman said, his entire demeanor much too enthusiastic for this time of day. “I must say, I was excited to hear you’d come in this morning. Excited and so very pleased.”

Nate winced at his overly loud tone. “I do apologize, sir, I cannot make you happy this morning.”

The man’s face fell even as he served them both their tea. “I had expected you a week or more ago.”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I’ve run into some difficulty.”

Mr. Newman’s gaze landed heavily on Nate’s face, no doubt seeing the dark circles under his eyes. “A man cannot work while inebriated,” he said stiffly.

“Neither can he work when knocked unconscious or half-drowned by thieves.”

The man’s eyes widened. “What?”

Nate sighed. Clearly, the man did not run in elite circles where the tale of his attack was common knowledge. But rather than argue, he sipped his tea. Might as well drink it before it got cold. “I am behind schedule, not dead. Never fear.”

“I wasn’t afraid,” Mr. Newman rushed to say. “Of course, your health is of utmost concern, but—”

“But I have made promises. I’m aware.”

“It’s more than a promise, my lord. It’s a contract between you and Minerva Press.”

Nate winced. “I know…” His voice trailed away.

He needed to soothe this particular aspect of his life, but he’d just spotted Becca.

She was headed this way, and he didn’t want to waste a moment with her.

So he pushed to his feet. “I have not forgotten you, sir. But at the moment, I’m afraid I have another commitment. ”

The man rose to his feet. Slowly. “Perhaps there is some way I could assist you. I have hired an additional clerk—”

“No, Mr. Newman. I’m quite capable of managing myself. Thank you.” It was a dismissal, clear as day. But the man would not take it.

“Perhaps I can offer an incentive. What do you say to an advertisement in the paper?”

“I say that you have one planned already. Now if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Lord Nathaniel, may I be blunt?”

He wanted to say, no. He wanted to be rid of the man, but in this, he was the one in the wrong. He’d made a promise that he hadn’t kept…yet. And so, Nate nodded as regally as he could manage. “What is it?”

“You are three weeks late. This strains the boundaries of our contract. Now, of course, if you have been injured, then I understand the delay. But if—”

Bloody hell! He’d gotten beaten to within an inch of his life, and now he had to prove it to this man?

“I honor my commitments!” he bellowed at the man.

Damn it, he was too tired for this. And worse, Becca was right there.

She’d heard every word and would no doubt assume the worst. So he moderated his tone.

“You are making things worse for both of us,” he finally said.

At last, the man looked around and saw Becca standing there, her expression completely locked down. A statue had more outward feeling.

“Ah, I see you have a visitor,” Mr. Newman said. “Perhaps I should bring more tea.”

“That would be most welcome,” Nate said.

Mr. Newman bowed. He did not, however, pick up the tea service. He snapped his fingers at Mr. Vawdrey who had been loitering nearby. The man rushed forward and grabbed the tea service before backing away. Meanwhile, Mr. Newman couldn’t resist one last jab.

“Mine is a noble profession, sir. I print tales that people enjoy.” He arched his brows at Nate. “That is noble, my lord. There is nothing wrong with printing joy.”

No, there wasn’t. And indeed, if not for his work with Mr. Newman, Nate might have gone mad several years earlier. It had been the only way to deal with the pressures of his life. The Minerva Press was his best escape, but he wanted to be the one to choose who knew about it and who did not.

He looked hard at the man. “You think I am wasting my time, sir. You think I have lost days and weeks to idle pleasure. I assure you, I have not.”

Mr. Newman bowed. “Of course not, my lord.” He said the words, but Nate heard doubt in his tone. Too bad. The man could not print words that were not written. And so, in this, Nate had the upper hand. At least for the moment.

“I need the next installment,” Mr. Newman said in an undertone.

“And you will get it,” Nate promised.

And with that, the man had to be satisfied. Fortunately, another patron wandered in, and he went to assist her. Nate didn’t care so long as the man departed. Which gave Nate time to focus on Becca.

“I apologize, Lady Rebecca,” he said, opting for formal address when in public. “You should not have been witness to that.”

Becca inclined her head and took the seat recently abdicated by Mr. Newman. “Are you behind in your accounts here?”

Hardly. At this moment in time, Mr. Newman owed him money. At least that was what he hoped. He hadn’t looked at the accounts in ages. He’d been too busy with everything else.

“Not like you think,” Nate answered as he glanced at nearby clock. “Did you have trouble getting here? It’s not like you to be late.”