She said it as if the East End were one of Dante’s circles of hell, and in some places, Netta supposed it was. She didn’t live there, and was glad for it, but it had seemed a convenient location to tell John. There was no way an earl would enter such a neighborhood. It gave her a level of protection against his curiosity.
Netta cocked an elbow on the backseat of the landau and tipped her face into the sun. “Wot? You’ve never visited? Afraid of getting your slippers dirty?”
Lady Mary pressed her lips flat. “Afraid of having my slippers stolen.”
Netta’s lips twitched. The woman wasn’t wrong. And she was nobody’s fool, a trait Netta admired. She dropped the street accent. “Very wise of you. I suppose I just have one of those faces that look familiar to everyone.”
Lady Mary tapped the end of her walking stick against the coach’s floor. “No, you don’t. Your face is far from common.”
Netta chewed her lip. This conversation was heading nowhere good. She cleared her throat. “So, what sort of club do you have?”
Lady Mary arched an eyebrow but allowed the change in subject. “A gentlewoman’s club.”
Netta pursed her lips. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“No one has. It’s the first of its kind.” Lady Mary angled the head of her walking stick so the jewels on the nob caught the sun. If Netta wasn’t too much mistaken, she wasn’t the only one who liked to engage in a bit of larceny. That walking stick had been in John’s home not long ago.
“It’s like a gentleman’s club,” Lady Mary said. “But without the rules. And for women. It’s all the crack. You should visit.”
“I’m not a gentlewoman.”
Lady Mary waved a hand. “Tosh. We accept all kinds.”
“In that case, I will.” A chance to see such an oddity was too good to pass. From the pocket of her pelisse, she slid out her handkerchief-wrapped bundle and pulled back the edges of the cloth. She held the pile of comfits up to Lady Mary. “Would you like another? I really must find out where these are made.”
Lady Mary huffed as she picked one from the pile. “Why? So you can steal direct from the source?” But she didn’t sound disapproving. A touch of grudging respect might have even been laced in her words.
Netta merely grinned. The warm sun on her face. A pocketful of sweets. And satin sheets to lay in tonight, hopefully not alone. The day was good.
“This plot you have with Johnnie.”
“What about it?” Netta popped another of her sweetly-gotten gains into her mouth.
“I don’t want to know the details—”
“Good, because I don’t have any.” Netta frowned. A fact that was becoming more irritating each day.
Lady Mary held up her hand, palm out. “That’s between you and Johnnie. But…I have concerns.”
“John knows what he’s doing.” If anyone could take the measure of his cleverness, it should be the older woman. “I wouldn’t worry overmuch.”
“It’s not him I’m concerned about.” Lady Mary shifted on the seat to more fully face Netta. “Now, I love Johnnie very much. He’s always been sweet to me. It was only with his assistance that I was able to open my club. But he’s not a man whose attention is ever engaged overlong.” She dipped her chin to her chest and peered over her spectacles. “If you take my meaning.”
Netta paused, mid-suck. All her good humor vanished. She did take Lady Mary’s meaning. It would be a kind warning to a different type of woman, but unnecessary for Netta. She had no illusions about a relationship of any length with the earl.
A small ache bloomed behind her breast, and she rubbed at it. She swallowed the comfit, the morsel not tasting as good as before. “I assure you no such warning is necessary. I’m not the sort to become attached. Or have romantic illusions.” Even had John been a different type of man, it still could never be. A ship to America had her and her sister’s name on it.
“Good.” Lady Mary rested back on her seat. “I thought you were a sensible sort of girl, but wanted to make sure. Because as good as Johnnie is to have as a friend, he’s not the sort to make a dependable lover. I’d hate to see you ill-used.”
Netta forced a smile. “As you say, I’m a sensible sort. And I don’t allow myself to be taken advantage of.” She was the one to take advantage, and then flee before the consequences could catch up to her. It was a pattern that had served her well. One that had protected not only her body but her heart. She knew just how attached she could let herself become before she had to move on.
She and John had yet to be intimate, not truly. There was no need to worry. There were weeks yet for them to enjoy each other.
Her stomach cramped. So why was she worried?
Chapter Thirteen
She pushed her concerns aside as soon as she returned home. Lady Mary waved her off, after pocketing four more of the comfits, and Netta hopped up the steps to John’s townhouse.
