Page 20 of The Truth Serum
“Brought on because of him! Good God, Ras, why can’t you see him clearly? Do you know what he does with his time?”
No, he didn’t. And that was where there was some truth to Fletcher’s ravings. Nate had always been mysterious about his activities, brushing off questions with vague sayings like, “Oh, this and that. Here and there.” Several times he claimed to have spent some months in a certain lady’s arms, without ever naming the woman.
It could be true. Or it could all be lies. Ras had never pushed him for specifics, and Nate—even in his cups—had never told.
“You’re thinking of it, aren’t you?” Fletcher asked. “What do you really know of the man? Where does he go? How does he make his money?”
“Why are you so obsessed with him?”
Fletcher didn’t answer at first. He wandered into the stable, looking at the horses there. It was Ras’s private stable, housing his horses and vehicles in a modest display. A stableboy ran out to greet him and Ras waved him away. He didn’t intend to ride.
“It’s not bad business,” Fletcher finally said once the boy was out of earshot.
“What?”
“Some people—smart people—have always profited from war.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. Napoleon is a monster and all that. I’m sure we’ll defeat him eventually. But there is money to be made. If one is willing. And desperate.”
“And you think Nate is doing that.” The very idea made Ras’s stomach rebel. Not only because he couldn’t believe it of Nate, but also because the idea of profiting while men were dying made him physically ill.
Not so Fletcher. The man’s eyes practically gleamed.
“I thinksomeoneis doing that,” he said slowly. “I was investigating when I saw Lord Nathaniel skulking around the docks.”
“That’s what you were doing? Investigating?”
He pressed a hand to his heart. “I am a patriot. I don’t know what Lord Nathaniel is.” He lifted his chin. “And you don’t either.”
Ras didn’t argue. For all that Fletcher was sowing doubt, Ras knew he would trust Nate long before he trusted Fletcher. He busied himself with looking at his horses. Lady Zoe had sent a long list of instructions, and he was curious to see if there had been any change. Meanwhile, he kept his tone casual.
“What, exactly, did you see Nate do?”
“Exactly? Nothing. I saw the thieves tearing off his boots. He howled when they stomped on his foot, then he crawled away like a cockroach and fell into the Thames.”
Ras looked up, alarmed. “You didn’t stop them?”
“What could I do? I thought he was dead.”
“But you came back to his home.”
Fletcher nodded. “Certainly. I had to tell somebody, didn’t I? That he was dead.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“You found him.” Fletcher’s expression turned sour. “Is he recovering?”
“He’s getting better.” Ras stepped into the stall of his favorite mare, running his hands over the creature’s fetlock. Had the swelling gone down? Was she healthier? He had no idea.
“What has Nate said?”
“That he was having a pint with old friends.” He looked at Fletcher. “Back when we were kids, after he didn’t return to school, he spent some time on a merchant vessel. Made friends with the captain and they still get together when he’s in port.”
Fletcher scoffed. “And you believe him?”
“No reason not to.”
The man snorted. “You’re too gullible. Believe me, the man is up to no good.”
They were going in circles here to no point. Fletcher just wanted to lambast Nate while Ras was determined to learn details. “Did you find any evidence of smuggling? Or were you just watching Nate?”
