Page 31 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)
She turned to face him. “What is there to explain? You write. You…” She glanced back toward Madame’s salon. “You have liaisons. None of it has anything to do with me.”
“But it can,” he pressed. “I mean, I want it to.”
She snorted as they descended the stairs. “I fail to see how.”
“Leave that to me,” he said. “Let me answer your questions.”
They made it to the base of the stairs just as Monsieur and the duke were stepping out. The two were in jovial moods, and Rebecca could smell brandy in the air.
Clearly, they had come to an arrangement. And clearly the duke had been celebrating heavily. As soon as he saw Nate, he threw an arm around the man’s shoulders.
“Nate, my old friend.”
Were his words slurred?
Nate winced under the sudden weight. No doubt his ribs ached. But he smiled back at the duke.
“Has everything come about all right then?” His tone had the perfect notes of flippancy and shame.
“Yes, my friend,” the duke said with a grin. “Your little misstep will make me a small fortune.” The duke glanced at his fiancée. “Good thing too, because I have to pay for a damned ducal wedding.”
“I’m glad someone is benefiting,” Nate grumbled. Then he twisted slightly to stare at the duke. “Any chance that I can join in this good fortune?”
“None!” the duke exclaimed. “You need a feather first before you can fly.” He leaned in close to Nate’s face. “And you my friend, have nothing to stake.”
“But you do?”
The duke snorted. “I have the coin. Monsieur has the connections. And together we shall pay for every hothouse flower at my wedding.”
“Enough, enough!” interrupted Monsieur. His cheeks were ruddy, but he was being more discreet than the duke. “This whole affair is done. No one will speak of it again, yes?”
“Yes!” Nate said, his tone clearly aggrieved.
“Your word of honor, Your Grace?”
Ras made a show of straightening himself and setting his clothing to rights. “My word of honor,” he said gravely. “No one here will speak of this again.” He shot everyone a firm look. “Is that understood?” His tone was hard enough—and sober enough—that Rebecca saw it for the threat that it was.
“Of course not, Ras,” Kynthea said quietly.
Rebecca echoed that. “I don’t understand what has happened here. I certainly will never speak of it again.”
Nate sighed. “I just want this whole night to be over with.”
“Excellent,” Monsieur cried.
“Yes,” the duke said with the precision of a drunkard. “And good night.”
Then the four of them scooted outside. The duke straightened, returning to his stiff persona, Nate slumped in the way of a defeated man, and Kynthea shared a troubled look with Rebecca.
Clearly the men knew something the women did not, but nothing could be discussed until they were in the privacy of the carriage.
They climbed in quietly, waiting as the duke told his driver to take them home. Then he shut the door, dropped down next to Kynthea, and waited in silence for the carriage to start.
It finally lurched into motion, and everyone released a sigh of relief.
Rebecca wasn’t even sure why, except that she’d found the experience profoundly disturbing.
As if nothing in that place had been what it appeared.
And she didn’t like being on the outs when everyone else seemed to know what was going on.
Or so she thought, until the duke’s cold voice cut through the carriage.
“All right, Nate. Out with it. All of it. Or I swear to go I’ll go straight to Castlereagh and damn the consequences.”
“Ras—” Nate groaned. “This shouldn’t be discussed—”
“In front of the ladies? I don’t know about Lady Rebecca, but I’m damn sure that Kynthea has figured out a great deal more than you want her to.”
In answer, Kynthea crossed her arms and gave Nate an arch look. Then the duke turned to Rebecca.
“Do you want to return to your home now? Or would you rather—”
“Not home,” she rushed to say. “Not yet.” She wasn’t ready to confront Fletcher. Not until she understood more of…well, everything. Then she took a deep breath and took a wild stab in the dark.
“Frid is not your mistress. Madame and Monsieur Joguet have a confusing marriage and rival business dealings.” She looked hard at Nate.
“And you were there to figure out what exactly Monsieur was doing.” It had to be Monsieur who was the question because Frid had been much too cozy with Nate.
And Frid was Madame’s handmaid. “Frid helps you keep tabs on Madame, doesn’t she? ”
Nate’s jaw went slack. “I, um…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yes, that’s all true,” he finally said.
“Well?” Rebecca pressed. “Did you?”
“What?”
“Did you find out whatever it was you needed to know?”
Nate looked to Ras who gave him a curt nod.
“BC stands for Baron Corbis,” Ras said.
“I thought so,” Nate mumbled. Then he looked back to Rebecca. “Yes, I got the information I needed.”
Well, that was something. “So now what?”
Nate sighed. It was a sound that filled the carriage despite the noise of the wheels on cobblestone.
“Now,” he said, his attention on Rebecca, “I need you to pretend interest in the baron’s suit.”
Good Lord. The man had lost his mind.