Page 94 of The Truth Serum
His fingers tightened on her chin and his other hand, on her arm. Tight fingers, boring in. But they were nothing compared to his anger. And when she opened her eyes, she didn’t see him. She saw a little boy breaking all his toys.
And she was one of his toys.
“You will do this,” he whispered into her ear. “Or I will serve you up to him without benefit of a ring. I will put you in his bed and let him do to you what he did to his first wife.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but she could feel it in him as surely as she felt the clothes on her back. It was dark, malevolent, and it gloried in her fear.
She tried to say something back to him. She tried to reach the angry child inside. She knew that he wanted love but could not find a way to receive it. She knew these things, but she couldn’t voice them.
She was too afraid. And he was too filled with hate.
So she said nothing. And in her silence, he said one last thing.
“And if he doesn’t, I will find someone else to do the deed. Someone much worse.”
She cried out in horror. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
“You are nothing more than a cunny for sale, sister. If you do not do as I will, then I will break you, and you will do what I want anyway.” Then he tossed her aside and walked out.
She collapsed, her entire body shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t care. Her brother was a monster. A cruel, angry monster who’d once been a frightened, lonely little boy. The two images collided against each other. How could a lonely boy act so heinous? How could a monster be a child at heart?
She closed her eyes. She stayed where she was, and she felt herself drop into darkness. It was a spinning, rolling, nauseating vortex of darkness, but it was easier than when he’d been in the room with her. And in time—she had no idea how long—Dorothy found her. She gently eased her to her feet. She helped her walk and climb the stairs. Eventually, Rebecca slid into a hot bath.
Then Dorothy brought her some food. Little bits of fruit and a few biscuits.
That eased the nausea. It grounded her more in the present reality, though her vision was still blurry. Then, when Rebecca felt she could, she called for pen and paper.
She had letters to write.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nate spent mostof the morning meeting with Lord Benedict. His plan was complicated, required attention to detail, and needed him to personally speak with the people involved. That last bit was the frustrating part. He couldn’t shake his worry for Becca. She was going home to face Fletcher, and though she’d reassured him over and over that she could handle her brother, Nate was not so confident.
Fletcher was playing in deep waters. That often pushed a man farther than he ever meant to go. And it was usually his family who suffered the most.
So Nate fretted, even as he did what he needed to do for the war effort. But the moment he was free, he went searching for her. Fortunately, he knew she planned to go to the modiste with Kynthea.
He headed there as fast as he could reasonably move while still appearing casual. And when he arrived, he did so with an air of genial nonchalance. Lord Nathaniel was a useless fribble who didn’t have a care in the world.
That lasted for ten seconds. He sauntered into the modiste’s, smiled warmly at the girl who was not used to gentlemen entering their establishment, then leaped into motion when he heard Kynthea’s exclamation.
“Rebecca! Oh my God!”
He didn’t wait. He leapt past the girl to the back rooms. She must have cried out, but he didn’t hear it. Instead, he was completely focused on finding Becca. And find her, he did.
There she was standing in front of a mirror with a dreamy expression on her face. Her hair was pinned up loosely and a few curls had tumbled down. The dress she wore was exquisite. The color was a brilliant jewel tone of sapphire blue that brought out her eyes, and it curved perfectly to emphasize her full breasts.
But what struck him the most was the way she seemed to float as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her arms were slightly lifted and her hands moved in exaggerated ways, both expansive and slow. And while he stood there scanning her, he realized she was wavering on her feet…which was made worse when she turned at the sight of him.
“Nate—oh!” She had to reach out—too slowly—to catch herself. Fortunately, Kynthea was there with a stabilizing arm.
“Lord Nathaniel!” Kynthea exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
All his made-up reasons for being there flew out of his mind. Instead, he watched as Becca wavered on her feet, her happy expression making her more beautiful than he’d seen her in a long while. She was relaxed, her face seemed soft, and her smile was so genuine it made his heart ache. Especially since her expression was trained on him.
“I—I was worried about her,” he finally admitted. “Becca, are you well?”
“Look at this dress!” Becca said as she turned—slowly—back to the mirror. “Kynthea has excellent taste, don’t you think?”
