Page 49 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

B ecca wasn’t hung for treason, though it took all of Nate and Lord Benedict’s combined influence to keep her from prosecution. Keeping her out of the scandal was impossible, and Nate quietly seethed every time he heard a whisper of gossip about her.

Everyone knew she’d been courted by the baron.

And everyone guessed that she’d disappeared from the Penrose ball with him.

No one could know what she’d risked to expose the bastard.

Whenever Nate thought about that, his blood ran cold.

She could have died so easily! And every time he thought of losing her, he dreamed about running the man through.

Fortunately, justice for the baron came swiftly.

He was drawn and quartered under great public spectacle.

His daughter was swept away to live with her maternal grandparents, which was a relief to everyone.

Nate managed to send her nurse along as well, since the woman would never get a position in London.

And the scandal died down with relative speed as other things took precedence.

Like a ducal wedding.

Ras and Kynthea were married with all the pomp appropriate to the situation. And that was a much-needed boost to Nate and Rebecca. Being the best man to a duke was a feather in his cap, but he cared much more that as a bridesmaid to Kynthea, Becca was finally given some grace among the haut ton.

Even her older brother Henry seemed pleased.

And nobody remarked on Fletcher’s absence.

It was well known that he had departed for the colonies.

Indeed, he’d made quite a show of investigating “exciting opportunities,” promising to write to those who wanted to invest. Nate and Lord Benedict were on hand to watch him board the ship, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when the boat finally left port.

But this moment was about the official end to the season.

Kynthea and Ras were married and waved off on their bridal trip after hosting a wedding breakfast for nearly a hundred people.

Nate was left to manage Ras’s correspondence for the summer, and Becca was given leave to remain in her family’s London house with control of her dowry.

That had been the biggest shock. She and Henry had closeted themselves together for a full day after Fletcher departed.

They’d come to an arrangement that allowed her to be independent for the summer as a test. It helped that Henry had friends who would keep an eye on her.

Gentlemen friends, it turned out, that Nate then spent a week investigating.

They were acceptable, and Becca was in alt at being in near complete control of her life. Especially after she trimmed the staff to its bare minimum and replaced all her brother’s servants with ones of her own choice.

If only the two of them could find some time alone together. Between the wedding and mopping up the fallout from the baron’s arrest, neither of them had had any time. He’d managed to dance with her at various balls, but it was never private and never enough.

Worse, after everything, they seemed awkward with one another.

Now that all the traitorous drama was over, they ought to be able to speak openly with one another.

Instead, their lives were consumed with the wedding and deporting her brother.

But all of that finished after the wedding breakfast. Once the happy couple was sent away, the servants began cleaning the elaborate affair, and they were finally able to catch a moment alone.

Nate waited until Becca finished giving instructions about the flowers and the leftover food.

He was happy to rest while she finished.

He’d been on his feet, directing the parade of the carriages as they departed from the banquet hall.

Everyone wanted a last word with him, not because he was important but because they hoped for a last bit of gossip about the duke.

He’d obliged, of course, with something innocuous.

That was Lord Nathaniel’s specialty, after all, and he had to maintain the persona.

At least until he was private with Becca again.

Which came a few minutes later when she collapsed into a chair beside him.

“The duke has an amazing staff,” she said with a sigh, “but there’s still so much to do.”

“What happened to Zoe?” She was Kynthea’s cousin and her maid of honor. Normally, supervising the cleanup would be her task.

“She left for her horses during the breakfast. She loves Kynthea, but she’s got a bet with Prinny she intends to win.”

“So she left all the tasks to you,” he said as he took hold of her hand.

Becca smiled at him. He was watching closely, waiting for the tension to appear between her brows. It came in slowly but was undeniable once her gaze slid from his.

“Becca,” he said, opting for a bluntness that hadn’t been possible in the middle of a ball. “What has happened between us? Why won’t you look me in the eye?”

Her gaze jumped to his, disproving his question. But then her cheeks flushed pink, and he knew something was up.

“Becca,” he said, “we have been through too much together for you to run scared now.”

She swallowed. “Lord Benedict has spoken with me.”

Fear sparked hot and bright inside him. He didn’t want her to risk herself in any way ever again.

But Benedict had seen how calmly she managed the baron, how well she remembered every detail of what she’d gotten him to say.

She would be an asset to the country, and Lord Benedict knew it.

More importantly, she would enjoy a life beyond the restriction of a country wife and mother.

But the danger was real.

“Do you know what he wants?” he asked carefully.

“I believe so.”

“And do you want to work for him?”

“I think so.”

He swallowed. His own training had taken years, but he’d been sent into a war. She would most likely have a part to play in society. “You would need to get married. Debutantes are too restricted, and even ladies with their own fortunes need masculine help.”

“I know.”

He paused, then he squeezed her hands. “Does that mean you are reconsidering my marriage proposal?”

She snorted. “I never stopped considering it.”

That was heartening.

“Henry made me promise not to make any significant decisions until after the summer. He believes there have been too many changes, and I need to understand what it is like being on the shelf before I consider anything else.”

Nate chuckled. “Henry loves taking a great deal of time to decide everything. Even down to the color of his waistcoat.”

“Oh,” she said blithely, “that takes no time at all. He chooses black. Always black because it can be used for every event from a funeral to a wedding.”

Yes, the man had been wearing black this morning. But at least he had managed a white cravat. “Becca—”

“I do not know if you still want me,” she finally blurted out. “My brother is a traitor!”

He sighed. “Of course, I—”

“Don’t say, ‘Of course!’” she snapped. “I came to London an aging debutante. Now I am an independent woman, after a fashion, and Henry is right. I don’t know who I am now, but I know you are in love with a sixteen-year-old me who hasn’t existed for a very long time.”

“That’s not true.” And when she cast him a doubtful look, he lifted his chin. “I still love her, yes, but you are so much better than her.” Then he leaned back in the chair. “Or perhaps you are delaying because you do not know me now. After all my deceptions, that is not surprising.”

She opened her mouth to deny it but stopped at his arch look.

“It is only natural to be unsure of me,” he said.

“Natural or not,” she said, her voice prim, “I have a solution.” Then she flashed him an uncertain smile. “Or at least an experiment.”

His brows rose. “Yes?”

“Would you like to try the truth serum with me?”

It took a moment before he could process what she said. And he was still confused. “What?”

“We’d take it at the same time. We can ask questions of one another and hear the truth in each answer.”

“It’s not dangerous?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I don’t have much experience with it. It would be a risk.”

One he was very open to taking. Especially since Lord Benedict had expressed interest in the brew as well. “The only way to get more experience is to experiment,” he said.

“I agree.”

“When should we do it?”

She grinned as she looked around the rapidly clearing hall. “No one expects us to do anything after today. Weddings are exhausting affairs.”

“You should rest. We have the whole summer.” Assuming he wasn’t sent off to France on another mission.

“I will rest,” she said firmly. “This afternoon.” Then she leaned close. “Come to the back entrance of my house tonight.”

“Are you sure—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “I am sure. But you must be certain as well.”

He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.