How far was she willing to go for four thousand pounds?
A shiver coursed her body, and she pulled the belt of the coat tight.
She didn’tthinkthe earl was lying. She couldn’t imagine him forcing a woman to do something she wasn’t comfortable with, but she’d been wrong about men before. With four thousand pounds inducement, she might not be seeing the man as clearly as she ought.
She slid the window open and leaned her head out. She frowned. There was no convenient trellis below, nothing to give her a solid handhold. Closing the window, she went about her room extinguishing all the lights. In the dark, she pressed her cheek against her door.
Only silence greeted her. With a stealth borne of experience, she cracked open the door and slipped out. Making her way unseen down the back staircase was child’s play. She escaped out the side door, tip-toed through the gardens, and exited onto the street.
Flipping up the collar of the coat, she hurried to the cross street, keeping an eye out for hackneys.
For now, she would trust Summerset. Trust that he’d keep his word. But she’d move forwards as though the four thousand pounds were merely speculative. She would continue her real employment at night, and during the day she’d allow Summerset to believe he was gradually improving her. A sensible compromise even Cerise would condone.
And no matter how charming the earl was, she would keep both eyes open for any tricks on his part. Eyes open and legs closed.
She’d pretend to learn to be a lady, sleep in his satin sheets, eat his fine food, and after she collected her fee, she’d shake the man’s hand and bid him farewell.
It was a neat plan.
Pretending to learn the manners she’d had instilled from birth. Living in the lap of luxury until she was called upon to wink and shimmy as a distraction. If everything went as planned, it would be the easiest money she’d ever made.
Chapter Seven
Netta yawned so widely her jaws cracked.
Summerset winced, and belatedly she covered her mouth with her hand. She shifted on the parlor’s settee, a niggle of unease slipping through her. That breach in etiquette hadn’t been intentional. She’d never settled into a character so thoroughly, and while she enjoyed playing guttersnipe-Netta, she needed to remember it was only a role. A means to an end.
He paced in front of her, annoyance tightening every muscle in his lithe body.
Her belly fluttered as she watched him prowl. He was like a large cat, ready to take down his prey. Perhaps if she provoked him a bit more, he would turn his wolfish attentions on her and—
No.Hewas only a means to an end, and she couldn’t let her mind wander down that path, no matter how delightful her imaginings. Besides, she was mixing up her animals now. He couldn’t be both a cat and a wolf.
Summerset paused by the empty fireplace and rested one jeweled boot on the brick ledge. He wore breeches today, a lovely Pomona green silk, and nearly as tight as his pantaloons. The fabric gripped the firm muscles of his thighs, and molded to the long bulge trapped behind his falls.
She swallowed and averted her gaze.
He ran a hand up the back of his head, his hair getting a delightfully rumpled look. “Is there a reason for your fatigue? Is your bed not to your liking?”
She stifled another yawn. “The bed is fine.”
“Is my company not engaging?”
“Cor, what are you on about now?” She slouched back on the settee. She could pretend many things, but acting wide awake wasn’t one of them. Not after sneaking out of the earl’s house for the past three nights for each of her shows. The promise of four thousand pounds was heady, but the reality of three pounds a show was not to be dismissed.
Besides, she enjoyed acting. She hadn’t thought she would. She’d been raised knowing the theatre was where disreputable women went to make their livings. But when she’d been alone, hurting, and with nowhere to sleep, the people at The Burns had invited her into their family. And putting on a costume each night, having the freedom of a disguise, was a thrill unlike any other.
Except, perhaps, putting one over on pompous earls. She eyed him carefully, trying to measure just how far his patience would stretch. A perverse part of her enjoyed needling him, relished when those full, sensual lips of his pressed flat into a hard line. And when those deep-blue eyes went all squinty, she got a decided tingle in parts of her that hadn’t tingled for quite some time.
But this was business, she reminded herself for the thousandth time, and she couldn’t risk him throwing her out. “You’re fine, the bed is fine. It’s jus’ being in a new place. I’ll sleep better tonight."
“Just.”
She pushed through the fog in her brain. “Wot?”
“Just, not jus’.” He pushed away from the fireplace and stood before her. “What, not wot. Are you even trying?”
She decided to show him a little progress. Slowly, and overly enunciating each word, she said, “My lodgings here are most delightful. Ijustneed to become accustomed to sliding all over those satin sheets of yours. I almost slipped right out of the bed last night.”
