At least he proposed it as a question. In the position she was in, he could just have easily assumed he could take what he wanted without asking.
“No, thank’ee. I’ll take me clothes and be gone.”
He drew his eyebrows together. The small wrinkle on his brow was the only flaw on his otherwise perfect face. A more handsome man Netta had never seen, but his heart was as corrupt as the rest of them.
“You haven’t heard my proposition. How can you refuse it when you don’t know what it is?”
She snorted. “I know your type. Yourpropositionsare all the same.”
His eyes flew wide. “Ah. You misunderstand. My proposal is not of an amorous nature.”
“No?”
He chuckled. “Certainly not.”
She should have been relieved, but her shoulder blades drew back even tighter. “Why not? Wot’s wrong with me?”
He sighed. “If you are going to become vexed when men both make improper suggestions anddon’tmake improper suggestions, you must spend most of your life in a state of offense. You also make it most difficult to hold a conversation. Could we perhaps proceed without reproofs for roughly five minutes? I believe you’ll find my proposition most profitable.”
Well, profit was a word she definitely did not take offense to. “I’m listening.”
“Good.” The earl pressed his palm flat on the desk and leaned his weight upon it. “I might have need of someone like you in the future. A woman with loose enough morals to engage in a deception and an adequate talent to make it believable.”
There he went again. “Adequate?” she gritted out between her teeth.
“Of course, I’d prefer someone more skilled.” He drummed his long, tapered fingers on the desk, a thick bank of gold wrapped around his thumb clinking dully against the wood. “But beggars can’t be choosers. How old are you, Netta?”
“Old enough.”
He tilted his head, those devilish eyes raking her form.
A slight shiver hardened her nipples.
“When you dressed as poor Ned, you appeared quite young.” He angled forwards, and the scent of oranges overlaid with something darker, spicier, teased her nose.
She shifted on her seat. Didn’t matter how good a man smelled. This was business. She wouldn’t allow for distractions. “Face paint and dirt. Given me height and round face, appearing younger is easy.”
She turned the tables and examined him. It was no hardship. His form was long and lean. The tailoring of his jacket was exquisite, molding to his wide shoulders and nipping down to emphasize his trim waist. But it was the quality of the materials that caught her eye. Mostly. She wasn’t dead, after all, and a handsome man sitting mere feet away was wont to pique her interest like any other woman’s. But money beat out handsome every day of the week.
“Wot’s your racket?” Was that how he’d earned his wealth? Through dishonest activities? She couldn’t deny that a small nip of disappointment stung her breast. She might engage in a bit of larceny now and then, but it was necessary.
She pressed her lips tight. She couldn’t develop qualms now. If she was to succeed in her dream of taking her sister and herself to America, she should encourage disreputable behavior on Summerset’s part if it increased the profit on hers.
He pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me. Do I look like a knave?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He smirked. “I do like you, Netta Pickle. I believe we’ll work rather well together.”
“If we work together.” She drew her knees up to her chin, hooking her heels on the edge of the chair. “Wots. The. Racket?”
“I might have need of a distraction.” Standing, he plucked up a carved mahogany paperweight. He tossed it up and down. “There’s a man.”
She snorted. “There always is.”
Summerset continued on as though she hadn’t interrupted. “He has a weakness for proper, young misses. And most men I know are easily distracted by a pair of lovely violet eyes.” He tossed the wooden ball to her, and she snatched if from the air. “Truly, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen eyes such an extraordinary color as yours. They are sure to lure in any man.” He rolled his shoulders and stretched. “The impressive set of breasts will also help.”
Netta looked down. She didn’t know if she would call them impressive. They were rounder than the fashion, but then so was the rest of her body. She liked her sweets too much. But the men of her acquaintance had never had any complaints.
