Page 45 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

“W hat are you doing?” Rebecca cried. “Go away!”

Far from being concerned, the baron climbed into the carriage and firmly shut the door. He was grinning as he eased back in his seat. “Where are you going, my dear?”

“That’s none of your affair!” she snapped. “Good God, you’re going to ruin my reputation!”

“Nonsense. It’s perfectly normally for an affianced couple to disappear together for a little bit. Not exactly approved, but common enough.”

Ice slid down her veins. He was right. “We are not affianced.”

He chuckled. “We are now. You left first, my dear. And I might have noted that fact to a few people as I ran after you.”

Cold fury replaced the ice in her blood, and she knew she had to fight or end up married to this man.

But how? She thought of Nate and how he’d lived this life of spies and lies, but she was nowhere near as clever as he was.

She could stay with her ruse of being a complete idiot girl, but she was tired of pretending to be stupid. And so she went with simple bluntness.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

His brows rose. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ve already gotten it, thanks to your impetuous departure from the ball.”

“Marriage, obviously. You do know that Henry has sold my dower property, don’t you?” It was a lie, and the baron knew as much.

“You mean you’ve directed him to sell it. But it’s already in the contract, my dear. And Fletcher and I have both signed, so you’re stuck.”

“He can’t sign. It must be Henry.”

“But Henry gave Fletcher his proxy.”

Ice slid into her veins. She hoped that wasn’t true, but what did she know about proxies or marriage contracts? Nothing. What happened if the lady refused? Either way, she had a more pressing question.

“What is Fletcher doing for you now?”

“He’s going to prove to me his abilities.” The baron waggled his brows. “As beautiful as your breasts are, I want to expand my business. And to do that, I need someone like your brother. Someone capable, who is tied inextricably to me.”

In selling rifles to France.

“And if he refuses?”

The man’s laugh was cold. “Your brother is very eager to please me. He will not refuse.”

Was it true? Could her brother be so easily turned traitor?

She shuddered. “What, exactly, has he promised you?”

The baron had the audacity to pat her knee, as if the action didn’t make her skin crawl. “Don’t worry. You’ll see him in action very soon.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, working hard to keep the panic out of her voice. She knew she should have asked the question earlier, but there were so many things colliding in her thoughts.

“Your brother claims to be an excellent negotiator. And he was clever when discussing our marriage.”

Of course he was.

“But disposing of a sister is different from what he will be doing now.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“Which is what I want from him. Exactly.”

And that was all he said. And she was at a loss what to do about it.

She looked out the window, her eyes picking up details here and there. They were nearing summer, so it was still light out, even this late. But even if she couldn’t see much, she could smell the Thames.

“We’re heading for the docks. Is my brother buying something for you?” She looked at him, her expression as open as she could make it, but inside she was praying he said yes. Purchasing smuggled goods wasn’t nearly as terrible a crime.

“With what money? Henry keeps Fletcher’s purse very lean.”

“With your money, I assume.”

“I do not make a habit of allowing someone else to carry my purse.”

“So he’s selling.”

The baron gave a quick nod. “He and my brother.”

She frowned. Nate had said something about that, hadn’t he? “Your brother?”

“Half-brother. My father’s bastard. Works at the Tower of London with me.” He grinned. “He gets the rifles out but is a damned coward when meeting the French. Runs at the first sign of trouble. I’ve lost good money because he turned tail.”

“So you sell them—”

“Me? Goodness no. All that skulking about on the docks? A man could get his head bashed in for that.”

There was something in his tone of voice, something in the way he said those words that made her look at him sharply. “Get his head bashed in,” she echoed slowly. Just as Nate had before. “You did it?” she asked quietly. “You’ve bashed someone’s head in, just for being at the docks?”

He patted her hand. “There’s a time and place for everything, my dear.

If someone pokes his nose into my business, I poke back.

” Then he squeezed her hand with increasing strength, harder and harder until she tried to jerk it away.

She couldn’t. He was too strong, and pain began to radiate up her arm.

If he kept it up, he was going to break her bones.

“Stop it!”

He abruptly let her go, and she pulled her throbbing hand back to her chest. “Why would you do that to me?” she whispered.

“I want you to understand. I can be very generous, but I also must be obeyed.”

The threat was obvious. Indeed, she might think him an overblown villain in a novel, except that he was right here with her. He was telling her everything as if she…as if she could do nothing about it. As if he could not conceive that she would ever betray him.

“We’re not married,” she said. “I will tell—”

“And see your brother hanged? Drawn and quartered for treason?”

“You’re the one—”

“No, my dear, he is. And we are going now to watch him, you and me, so that you will know what we are a part of.”

“But I’m not!”

“But you are, because you are his sister. And I am on the Board of Ordinance. It makes perfect sense that I would make friends with your brother just so I could expose him as a thief and a traitor.”

“What?”

“I see you begin to understand but let me make things clear. Fletcher is about to turn traitor to England. He is selling rifles to Fance. And if you say anything about it, I will claim that I was investigating you both, with my brother’s help, of course. And then you will hang right beside him.”

He could do it. He could spin a tale that sent both her and Fletcher to the gallows. And to make everything worse, she knew that Nate was there, with officers from the War Office. They would capture Fletcher, and the baron would take great glee in letting her brother hang for his crime.

She had to stop this. For her brother’s sake. For her own sake. For the nation’s sake, she had to stop the baron.

But how? What would Nate do?

She had no idea, except for what she’d read in his novels. What did his characters do to outwit the villain? They pretended to go along until they had an opportunity to destroy everything.

Very well. She squared her shoulders and faced him with her most arrogant stare.

“So I am to be your wife. I am to go along with your scheme.” She swallowed. “I will, but I have a condition.”

He snorted. “You have no bargaining room here. Consider yourself lucky. You get to stand at my side, clothed in riches, as you care for my sons.”

His sons. Of course. Nothing about his poor daughter. Which, naturally, gave her an insight into what he did want.

“Did you know that there are ways to prevent pregnancy? That no matter how much you do your, um, manly duty, I can prevent any son from growing in my womb.” She leaned forward. “That is why you want a wife, yes? So you can have an heir? Someone to carry on your glorious name.”

He stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Clearly, he’d never heard of such a thing. “Nothing can prevent me from planting my son in your womb.”

“Oh sir, you are misinformed.” He opened his mouth to counter her, but she raised a single finger. “And before you toss me aside, let me warn you that I will tell any woman you marry exactly how to do it.”

“Then I shall kill you this night and be done with you.”

He said it so swiftly that she was inclined to doubt him.

It was one of those throw-away phrases that never usually came to pass.

I’ll kill you. I’ll beat her. I’ll wring his neck.

Except she knew of too many cases where it had happened.

The threats were real. And perhaps a man who could blithely betray his country for coin could just as easily kill her tonight.

But she couldn’t cave now or she’d never have any footing with the man. So again, she tried to echo what Nate—or at least, the hero in one of his books—had said and forced her lips into a casual smile.

“You can try,” she said. “But we girls in the country learn how to defend ourselves against man and beast alike.”

“I have three stone weight on you. There’s nothing you can—”

She punched him. She’d never done it before except in practice with her older brother. Henry knew she tended to the ill in her village, often at all hours of the night. He taught her this punch—made her practice it over and over—as the quickest way to shock and disable an opponent. Or kill them.

She jabbed him straight in the throat.

Or she tried to. She missed, but she gave him a glancing blow enough that he choked out of reflex. And she followed up quickly with the lie that she’d meant to miss.

“If I’d hit that a little harder, you’d be dying right now,” she said. “Even a glancing blow will kill. Remember that next time you think I don’t know how to hurt a man.”

Henry’s plan for that punch was so she could jab then run. Unfortunately, she was in a moving carriage. She could jump out and run, but to where? She needed to stop Fletcher, and the baron knew where the meeting would take place.

So she sat and waited while he recovered his breath. And she tensed for the backlash to come. He was not a man who could be struck without fighting back.

It came as she expected it to—a backhand hard enough to shatter her cheek. She blocked it as much as she was able. It softened the blow to a glancing bruise, but the pain of it radiated through her body.

Didn’t matter. She didn’t change her tone of voice.