He looked adorably confused, but she didn’t let it soothe her ire. Anger made it easier to keep her mouth shut. To delay the inevitable. To postpone learning how he would react to knowing who she truly was.
Her heart twisted painfully. If she was nothing but a convenient bed-warmer, he would have no reason to keep her once he understood she couldn’t help him in his plot.
“But—”
“Out.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll speak later when you’ve calmed yourself.”
She pinched her lips tight. She didn’t trust her voice, not when he was provoking her into wanting to scream with frustration. She stabbed her finger at the door.
“Fine.” He stomped away from her, his famous glide nowhere in sight. He turned in the entry. “Good luck on your performance tonight, although we both know you don’t need it. You’re an excellent actress. And make no mistake.” He tapped the doorjamb with the heel of his palm. “I will learn why you refuse lead roles. I will learn everything there is to know about you.”
And with that dramatic exclamation, he whirled and disappeared from sight.
Netta sagged into her chair. Truly, with his penchant for drama, he should have been the actor.
She planted her elbow on her table and dropped her chin into her upraised palm.
She hadn’t let anyone know everything about her in…forever. John Chaucer, Earl of Summerset was a risky person to be the first.
For Eleanor’s sake, she prayed he was a gamble worth taking.
Chapter Twenty-Two
John bent at the waist and blew on the glass pipettes arranged in a neat row in their wood holder. A cloud of dust billowed up, and he jerked his head back.
Judith pawed his face, and he tucked her more securely under his arm. He scratched her behind her torn ear.
Wilberforce stepped into the small laboratory. “Shall I call for a maid, sir? It will be nice to see this room put to use again.”
John started. “What are you—” He blew out his cheeks. “Why have you been following me about all day? You are as irksome as this cat, constantly underfoot.” Judith started purring, apparently unbothered at the insult.
“This is only the second time we’ve spoken this morn,” Wil said mildly. “Hardly underfoot.”
“It isn’t the speaking but the lurking I complain about.” John picked up a pair of frayed leather goggles. They were similar to what his brother had worn that day, and probably the only thing that had saved his left eye.
He replaced them on the wide table. “Why have you been following me about the house?”
Wil didn’t answer that question, not directly, of course. “I noticed that you and Miss Netta were very silent at breakfast this morning. Has something gone amiss between you two?”
“No. Everything is fine.” If you could consider a child-like silent treatment from the blasted woman fine. It was better than a yelling match, he supposed. But if she wasn’t talking, it was damned difficult to know why she was upset.
“Have you perhaps reconsidered her role in your scheme?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” John leaned back against his worktable. “You don’t want Netta to be part of it.”
Wil firmed his jaw. “It isn’t right to involve a woman. It could be dangerous.”
John shook his head. “That woman can handle her own. She’ll have Sudworth wrapped right around her little finger.” Netta might be the most competent woman he knew. He wouldn’t have asked her to take part in his plan if he didn’t believe her capable, or that he could protect her.
But he couldn’t deny he also didn’t like the idea of Netta involved. A sliver of unease pricked his breast. What if something did happen to her? It would have been unconscionable if she had been merely an agent working under his command and ill befell her. Now that he knew her, liked her, the idea of harm coming to her stole his breath.
His fingers dug into Judith’s side and she hissed, twisting from his grip and trotting from the room.
He wouldn’t let anything happen, not to Netta. Not to any of his friends.
Wil sniffed, looking as disgruntled as an old woman. “You must do as you see fit, of course.”
