“Get on with it.” Bob nudged her shoulder. “You do know what you’re doing?”
She scowled over her shoulder. “Obviously I’m warming my hands so as not to startle the poor animal when I touch her.”
Roger tittered. “Too right. No female likes her udders touched with cold hands. I can attest to that.”
Bob guffawed with him.
Netta chafed her hands harder. Perhaps after she filled the bucket, she could turn it over their heads. Or maybe cause the cow to charge, knock the men down.
While the men still laughed at their insipid joke, Netta flattened her hands and brought them down sharply on the cow’s side.
The animal didn’t even blink, much less charge.
“Oy, what was that for?” Bob asked.
“Uh, slapping their sides help stimulate the milk production.”
Roger nudged Bob. “Another way in which women are like cows. My Sally likes herself a good—”
“What a charming story.”
The deep voice made the hair on the back of her neck raise. She twisted, knowing who she was going to see but still unprepared for the cold chills that swamped her when she locked eyes with Sudworth.
His gaze flicked over her body, making her feel naked even though her gown covered everything. “Miss Muffet, Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet.” He showed all his teeth with his grin.
Why did everyone think Miss Muffet milked a cow? Was there a second stanza to the rhyme she was forgetting? Or was Sudworth as poorly versed in children’s literature as she?
He cocked his arm on the stall door. “I guess that makes me your spider.”
She swallowed.
She really hated that nursery rhyme.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Netta stood, stumbling back until her shoulders pressed against the wall. “Why?”
She couldn’t think of anything else to say. It made no sense why he’d taken her. There had never been affection for her on his part. He’d married and buried a wife in the passing years. She was no longer young enough to capture his perverse interest.
There could only be one reason for his actions. He wanted Eleanor. Netta raised her chin, keeping her expression hard. She would die before she agreed to deliver her sister to the bastard.
Sudworth flicked his fingers at her, and Bob grabbed her arm.
Netta planted her feet, but he dragged her through the straw covering the floor. He gripped the back of her neck and shoved her close to his employer.
Sudworth tugged off one glove and traced the lump on her forehead.
Netta jerked her head back, wincing at the throb of pain.
Sudworth frowned. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. All punishments belong to me.”
“Punishments?” She released a shuddering breath. She had the feeling that Sudworth’s punishments were something best avoided at all costs.
He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You didn’t think I would forget the insult, did you?” He gripped her jaw, and squeezed. “I never forget. I will take what is mine.”
The first streaks of daybreak brightened the high windows of the stables. The light caught in his eyes, making them shimmer, like he was a beast from hell.
Netta tried to jerk her head from his grip, but he only tightened his fingers until she could feel them dig into her gums.
