Page 41 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

B y the time Rebecca made it home, Fletcher was waiting. He was furious she had spent the day shopping, but he could hardly lambast her when Kynthea stood beside her gleefully talking about what a marvelous time they’d had and how she’d love to have Rebecca and her mother over after the wedding.

Fletcher barely hid his distaste of Kynthea, so that was no inducement.

Rebecca’s mother, however, was delighted at the idea of befriending a duchess.

As were several of the ladies sitting in Mama’s afternoon salon.

So Fletcher would appear churlish if he openly scoffed at the idea.

And though their mother usually bowed to Fletcher’s tantrums, he knew that even she would stand up to him at the prospect of entering the intimate circle of a duchess.

That was when Kynthea repeated the wonderful news that Rebecca would be one of her bridesmaids. Goodness, that set all the women into cries of delight. Which exactly echoed Rebecca’s feelings.

Fletcher was none too pleased. She knew his moods and could see the underlying fury beneath his genial smile. She didn’t bend, though. And with every other woman in the room delighted, he had no choice but to pretend to approve.

Then he got in his blow.

“Such a delightful celebration,” he said. “But I know you weren’t feeling well this morning. I think it would be best if you stayed home tonight to recover. Can’t have you looking peaked during the festivities, can we?”

“But I feel fine!” Rebecca said.

“Nevertheless, sister, I insist. Your health is of paramount importance.”

Such a petty revenge, she realized, taking away her treat just because he was ill-tempered.

A week ago, she might have passed that off as misguided worry for her health.

But the scales had fallen from her eyes, and she clearly saw the petulant child in him crying for attention in all the wrong ways.

Perhaps she could help him then. If he wanted attention, she would give it to him. “Very well, Fletcher,” she said. “I have been meaning to spend some more time with you anyway. A quiet evening of discussion with my brother sounds like just the thing.”

“Discussion?” he scoffed. “Whatever about?”

“Your negotiations regarding my dowry, for one,” she returned.

“You should know that I wrote Henry this morning suggesting he sell my dower land. I should like to purchase something closer to London.” She glanced at Kynthea.

“I have made friends here and would like to visit them more often. Cornwall is so far away.”

He straightened off the wall. “This is why women are not allowed into business affairs!” he snapped. “Selling that property is the height of idiocy!”

Perhaps. But it was also the best way to keep her brother from getting embroiled in the baron’s gun-running business. Without that land in her dowry, she strongly suspected the baron’s interest in her would disappear. Especially since plenty of other less difficult women had large breasts.

She squared off with Fletcher, her chin lifted and her eyes steady. And he matched her, though his hands were clenched into fists and his glare seemed to burn across the room.

“You will not do it!” he growled.

“Of course not,” she returned blithely. “Henry will. And as the head of our family—”

He jerked forward, as close to hitting her as he had ever been. Especially in public. But when their mother gasped—not to mention some of the other ladies—he abruptly stopped.

“Rebecca,” he growled, “you are meddling in things you do not understand.”

She swallowed. If anyone were to reach Fletcher, it would have to be her. Mama was not up to the task and Henry wasn’t here. And so she smiled at her brother. “Then please, Fletcher, will you not stay with me this evening and explain it?”

“Do not question me!” he roared.

“I am merely trying to help,” she said. “We were once great friends, you and I. Could we not spend an evening together talking? I should like to hear all your wonderful plans.”

Her tone was gentle, her expression warm. She called on all the ways she had reached him as a boy. She hadn’t been the best sister. He was two years older than her and had his own pursuits. But there had been good times between them.

Did he remember them?

She saw his gaze flicker. Was there a flash of yearning? A moment’s wavering to show that she had reached him?

Maybe. But a moment later, he locked it all down.

“Your judgement has always been lacking,” he drawled. “I see no cause to think otherwise now.” And on that, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the room.

Rebecca watched him go, her heart squeezing tight.

She hadn’t expected him to open up to her, but she’d hoped for more than a flicker in his eyes.

Still, that little waver gave her hope. She could still reach her brother before things got too ugly.

Indeed, if she could delay things just a little bit, then Nate would capture the baron and all of this traitorous business would be done.

She just had to hold on a little longer.

Meanwhile, Kynthea and the parlor full of ladies were reacting to what they’d just witnessed. And Mama launched in with her usual admonishment.

“Really, Rebecca, must you antagonize him so?”

“Really Mama,” she countered, “can you not see that he is a man grown who should learn how to handle disagreements without stomping about?”

“But that is what men do!” another lady exclaimed. “It is up to us to soothe them.”

And that perhaps was the root of the problem. When would men grow up? Why was it up to women to coddle and manage their emotions? She looked at Kynthea for support and found a wealth of understanding in her eyes. God, it was good to have a friend.

“Let’s go unpack our purchases,” the future duchess said. Then she glanced back at the ladies. “Would anyone else like to come see?”

Some of the ladies did, though most took their leave, no doubt to spread the gossip of Kynthea’s newest bridesmaid. Mama had likely told everyone already, but now they had seen the proof of it in Kynthea’s enthusiasm.

Everyone seemed to accept that men were moody creatures who must be managed, if not indulged.

Indeed, that had been Rebecca’s opinion up until very recently.

And here she was, once again struck by how badly she had misjudged Nate.

He wasn’t a feckless boy who was as childish as her brother.

He was a man who took responsibility for his actions, who was striving for the safety of England, and who truly worried about her without suffocating her.

How could she not love him?

But that was a thought for later. A feeling to examine when all this turmoil was over. And so she smiled at the bevy of women who chattered away as they headed up the stairs to her bedroom. Unfortunately, the noise was too much for Fletcher who came stomping back out of his library.

“Cease prattling!” he bellowed. “Can a man not get a moment’s peace in his own home?”

A little boy, still demanding attention. Even Mama saw it this time.

“We are a trial to you, aren’t we?” she said. “Why don’t you go to your club now and enjoy yourself? Perhaps it’s time for you to find a wife, hmmm? Someone who could smooth your troubled brow.”

Fletcher stiffened. “Do not instruct me about my affairs!” he growled.

“Fletcher,” Rebecca said gently, “she’s trying to express her love to you. She wants you to be happy.”

“By foisting a woman on me?”

“By encouraging you to find your own, whomever you want.”

“I am not a child to be a coddled! I swear, the two of you need to be told where to go and what to do.” He pointed his finger at her.

“You will stay home and rest. You must look gorgeous for the baron. And Mama, you need to remember that all those women who prattle at you are merely trying to get close to me.” He lifted his chin.

“This is the way it is in London, and you had best learn that now. Or I’ll send you both back home! ”

After that, he headed for the door, stopping only to stare straight at Kynthea. She stared back, and for a moment Rebecca feared something ugly, though she had no idea what. To her shock, Fletcher softened, his expression becoming cordial.

“I am sorry you had to witness that, Miss Petrelli. I admire you, you know. You’ve played the game well and have nabbed a duke. Congratulations.”

He was quick as he caught her hand and drew it up for a slow kiss. Kynthea allowed it, though her wary look quickly smoothed down into a placid expression.

“I have been very lucky,” she said politely.

“Yes, you have. And maybe you and I can find a way to extend that luck.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Fletcher straightened to his full height. “But not if you lead my sister astray. She may be of age, but she is na?ve in the ways of London. You must encourage her to take the guidance of her family who loves her.”

Kynthea’s brows arched. “You don’t think you’re being overprotective?”

Fletcher appeared to consider the thought.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. My sister can be surprisingly willful at times. She knows the country, of course. She has managed well there for years. But here? No, I am a better judge of what is acceptable here.” He looked back fondly at Rebecca.

“And she knows I have her best interests at heart. Don’t you, my dear? ”

Rebecca knew the exact opposite was true, thanks to her dose of truth serum.

Worse, she saw now that it was too late to reach the little boy inside him.

There was too much anger in him, and she felt too betrayed to maintain this charade.

“I know you think you do,” she said. “But I am my own person.”

His brows rose. “No, Rebecca. You are a woman.”

She knew he meant it as an insult. As a woman she had no power in the world or against him. And perhaps, on one level, that was true. But she had never looked to him for her self-worth. She was not about to start now.