PLAYED BY THE EARL

by Alyson Chase

  He stood in front of her, leaning back against the desk. “A win in your column at last.”

  The smile she should have worn at a victory was absent. “Yes. So what was it you had to tell me?”

  He crossed his arms and his ankles. Where to start? With the decision that affected her most, he supposed. “It’s about my plan.” He inhaled. Best just to spit it out.

  “Netta, I’m sorry. You’re out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ice filled her veins. Of all the things she’d thought John might say, that hadn’t been one of them.

  “Why?” It shouldn’t matter. She’d been about to quit. But being tossed aside stung.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know if I can guarantee your safety. The chance isn’t worth it.”

  Everything in her melted. “But you need a woman as a stake.”

  “I will tempt Sudworth with something else.”

  Well, that made breaking her news to him easier. She tilted her head. “That was all you had to tell me? No deep, dark secret?”

  He gripped the edge of the desk. “No, that wasn’t all.”

  A moment passed. Two.

  “Well?”

  “I’m getting to it.” He blew out a breath. “So impatient.”

  “And you’re delaying.”

  John picked up a brass paperweight and tossed it between his hands. “It’s about the work I did for the government. It wasn’t as a member of the House of Lords.” He cleared his throat. “I am…I was…”

  Netta made a circular motion with her hand. “You were…?”

  “I was a spy.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I spied for the Crown.”

  She scooted to the edge of her chair. “Truly? How thrilling.” She was never one for envy, that emotion merely a waste of time and energy. But she couldn’t deny a touch of jealousy over his career. While she merely performed exciting acts on the stage, John lived them.

  “You aren’t appalled? I…haven’t always done good things, Netta.”

  No. John didn’t strike her as a merciful man. But he was an honorable one. With his own slightly dented code. “I assume whatever you did was necessary, and done to bad people.”

  His shoulders sagged. “They were as horrible as you are marvelous.”

  “The most miserable of scum indeed.” She pursed her lips. “With your background, I can see you’d have alternatives to winning your deed back in a game.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, but nothing that would hold up under scrutiny. I don’t want the mines enjoined in a legal battle. A winner-take-all game of hazard is still the direction I want to go.”

  “Without me.” She bit the inside of her cheek. If she were a stranger to Sudworth, she would convince John to use her still. The risk seemed minimal and John’s smelts were of utmost importance to him.

  Leaning forwards, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing need change between us. We can still enjoy each other’s company as before, if you’d like. You can even remain here until we find you a more suitable apartment.”

  How kind of him. She gripped the armrests of her chair. How bloody magnanimous. “I didn’t agree to your plan for your company. I did it for the four thousand pounds.”

  He winced, just a flash of one, before his features settled back into its aloof mask, one he hadn’t worn around her in quite some time. “Of course, I didn’t intend to renege on our terms. I had thought with my offer of carte blanche you could expect to prosper in many ways.”

  Netta shot to her feet and pressed against his legs. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean it that way. Truly, your companionship far surpasses money.”

  A crack appeared in his composure. “But?”

  She dropped her head. “But…I need that money.”

  Tucking his finger under her chin, he raised her face. “Why? While I admit that your situation is far beneath the station you deserve, you do not appear to be in desperate straits.”

  Netta pulled away and stalked about the study. “My situation is not as it appears. I am not as I appear.”

  A crease lined his forehead. “Explain.”

  She darted him a look but continued pacing. The swift back-and-forth steadied her mind. “I could not have continued in your scheme even had you not dismissed me.”

  “I did not dismiss you,” he objected. “Merely found another use for you.”

  “On my back?” She raised her hand, cutting off his objection. “My apologies. I find that I become churlish when I am nervous. You are my unfortunate victim.”

  “Netta, stop.”

  She continued marching.

  He stepped in front of her, taking her elbows. “Stop. Tell me what is the matter. I will fix it.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “You can do many things, but this cannot be fixed. It can be resolved, but I fear the resolution will not be to anyone’s liking.”

  “For once I grow tired of games.” He gave her a small shake. “Speak plainly. What is amiss?”

  She stared into his eyes. The blue was so deep and dark she felt she could dive into them, find her escape. But there was no escaping this reckoning. “I am not Antoinette LeBlanc.”

  His nostrils flared. “Not Ned Pickle, nor Netta Pickle, and now not even LeBlanc.” A tiny muscle in his jaw flicked. “Who, pray tell, have I been sharing my bed with?”

  “I was born Miss Evered. Miss Agnes Evered, but my family and friends did call me Netta.” It was difficult to take in full breaths; her lungs didn’t seem to want to expand. “My father is Viscount Darby.”

  She held her breath until her head went light, yet still John said nothing.

  “Well? What have you to say to this latest deception?” She shook off his hands and crossed her arms under her chest. “Are you not grievously disappointed? Shocked beyond all measure?” The daughter of a viscount shouldn’t even know the address of the theatre she worked at. Should have saved her virginity for her husband. Shouldn’t have been thieving on the streets.

  When she thought about what her life had become, even she was shocked. She lifted her chin. Shocked, yes. But that didn’t mean she would change it. She liked Netta LeBlanc. Liked the freedom of being a common Cit. Of living how she wished, without the restraints of a father or husband.

  What she didn’t like was the carefully arranged blank expression upon John’s face.

  “Disappointed yes,” he said. “I had thought we’d arrived at an intimacy where you’d have felt free to inform me of this before now. But shocked, no. Nothing you do surprises me anymore.”

  She stepped forwards, clasping her hands together to keep from reaching out and grabbing hold of him. “We have become close. I’ve wanted to tell you for ages, but I was scared.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Of me?”

  “Of how you’d react.” Hurt flashed in his eyes, and she turned away, unable to see it. “I left home when I was but seventeen. I’ve learned hard lessons about the dangers of trusting someone. I wanted to tell you, but the part of me that’s kept me alive told me to wait. Just as you didn’t feel safe telling me about being a spy before now.” She made her way to the study’s window and pressed her palm against the cold glass.

  It was as dark as pitch outside in the garden. The wavering oval reflection that represented her face was the only thing she could see.

  Until another pale oval came to hover behind hers.

  John rested his hands on her shoulders. “Why did you leave home?”

  The tone of his voice told her he knew. Not the details, but the horror behind them. A seventeen-year-old daughter of a viscount didn’t flee from her family and friends unless her circumstances had become desperate.

  “It’s an old story. One I’m sure you can understand.” She pushed aside emotion. Spoke dully. She wouldn’t allow the memories to control her. “My father spent beyond his means. He needed money.”

  When she paused too long, John squeezed her shoul
ders. “And?”

  “And he wasn’t clever like you. Wasn’t industrious. The idea of working to earn his money never even occurred to him.”

  John stepped close enough that she could feel the heat from his body against her back. “That doesn’t make him unusual among our kind.”

  “No.” He was right. John was marvelously unique. What he had accomplished was nothing short of amazing. “But I would hope selling one’s unwilling daughter off to a monster to marry has become somewhat out of vogue.”

  He stopped breathing. “You’re married.”

  She turned to face him. “No. When entreaties to my father were dismissed, I thought to appeal to the man himself. Surely if he knew how unwilling his betrothed was, he would retract his offer. I snuck out of my house to pay a call.” She closed her eyes. She should never have done that. It had been her first mistake.

  But a useful one. She’d learned what sort of man her intended husband was.

  John pulled her close, tucked her head against his chest, and held her tight. “Tell me.”

  “I’d only met him once before. I’d thought him reserved. Taciturn. But not…” A tremor shook her body, and she cursed it. This shouldn’t be difficult. It had happened more than five years ago. But the memory of that night was like a living thing. Eating at her, demanding her attention.

  She cleared her throat. “He refused to listen to reason. Said the fact that I was unwilling would only make our wedding night that much sweeter.” John’s fingers dug into her back, and she burrowed closer. “When I told him there was no power on earth that would make me say those vows, he became violent.” She had learned that night that a saucy mouth could lead to far worse consequences than a scolding from her father and mother. It had taken her nigh on two years to recover her impertinence, a feat of which she was most proud.

  “Who was he?” John growled.

  Netta ignored the question. She needed to get her story out, tell it her way. “The bump on my wrist is due to him. I landed wrong when he threw me to the ground. I don’t know if it was broken then, but it certainly was after he stomped on it.” And laughed when she screamed. His laugh haunted her dreams.

  She nuzzled her head against his chest, moving aside his cravat with her cheek until the rapid beat of his heart soothed her ear. She inhaled, letting his scent surround her. Wrapped up in his arms like this, truly, nothing could hurt her.

  “I want a name.”

  Netta smiled sadly. Of course he did. Give a man a target, he would shoot it; a nail, and he would pound it. But life wasn’t as simple as that.

  “When I returned home, my father didn’t believe me. Said I was making up stories.” That had been the most painful part of the night. She had thought her father felt some affection for her. If he ever did, it was wiped clear by desperation. “The very next night I left home.”

  His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek in angry bursts. But his voice was gentle. “And you were seventeen?”

  She nodded. “My birthday had been less than a month prior.”

  He pressed his lips against her temple. “I am glad you told me. I am sorry if I did anything to make you believe you couldn’t trust me with it.”

  “If it had just been me, I would have told you the second time I bedded you.”

  His lips curved against her skin. “Not the first?”

  “No, you still appeared a thoughtless fop, albeit a talented one.” She pulled away. “I have a younger sister.” Her gaze flicked between his eyes. She needed him to understand how important this was. Eleanor’s safety was everything. “She is just now fourteen but I’ve learned that my father has betrothed her, even at that age. That’s why I agreed to your job. Why I need the four thousand pounds. I’ve been saving up my wages, but it isn’t enough. Not for what I had planned.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “To take my sister away, start a new life with her in America.” Nausea swirled through her stomach. She had been eager to make the new country her home before she’d met John. Eager for the adventure.

  John seemed like the bigger adventure. But it wasn’t her life she needed to secure. “I would ask that you stick to our agreement, but I cannot help you with your scheme. I know this now. So I can only beg you to lend me that four thousand pounds. Once I’ve settled and found employment, I will repay your loan in increments.” She forced her lips into a smile. “They will be very small increments, and I would be ever so grateful if we made this an interest-free loan, but I will repay you.”

  He huffed. “I would give you the money, but not if you intend to flee the continent with your ill-gotten gains. There is a limit to my generosity.”

  She placed her hands on his lean hips. “John. I cannot stay here. Not with my sister. My father might be able to pretend that he has sent one of his daughters to the north to care for an elderly aunt”—John arched one eyebrow, and Netta nodded—“yes, that was his story. But he cannot use it for both his daughters. He will look for Eleanor. I had thought about trying to hide her in London, but it won’t do. My father won’t suffer the loss of another valuable piece of chattel.” She swallowed down the bile in her throat.

  She didn’t know who she hated more: Sudworth or the man who’d created her.

  “You must think me devoid of filial affection,” she said. “I can assure you I once held my father in high esteem.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that at all.” John shook his head. “I was thinking how much a man’s mind can contort to justify his actions when he is desperate. I cannot imagine a father doing such to his daughters. He must be mad.”

  Netta blinked against the burn in her eyes. John might be able to rationalize her father’s actions, but she could not. With understanding came forgiveness, and that was something she was not prepared to give.

  “Will you give me the money.” Her heart tripped in her chest. If he refused, she didn’t know what she would do.

  John rubbed his jaw. “You said you know that you can no longer help me. Why is that?”

  Netta narrowed her eyes. He was using her tactic back on her, answering her question with one of his own. She didn’t care for it. But it was best that he knew all.

  “I would no longer be of use in your scheme. Your quarry knows me.” She clenched the skirt of her gown, her nails digging into her palms even through the fabric. “Sudworth is the man my father betrothed me to.”

  ***

  John had a new plan. Kill Sudworth. His friends would help to hide the body. Liverpool would be suspicious, but would eventually let the matter drop. Once he got the man alone, he would—

  “John.” Netta wrapped her arms around her middle, looking altogether more distraught than John liked. “Please help me. I need the money.”

  “No, you need the threats against you and your sister removed. It doesn’t necessarily follow that includes blunt.”

  “You don’t wish to lend it to me.” She loosed a wavering breath then nodded. “I will figure something else out.”

  “I don’t wish for you to flee across an ocean.” The thought of Netta disappearing into that uncivilized upstart nation sent a cold chill down his spine. He rubbed the back of his head. “Leaving England isn’t the only way to keep you and your sister safe, nor the best way.” There were two obstacles to their security. Sudworth and the father. His fingers twitched. He would enjoy making Sudworth pay for daring to touch Netta.

  “But…” She frowned. “Is that possible? With my staying in London?”

  “I will make sure it is so.”

  She looked to the ceiling and shook her head. “You are capable of many things—”

  “Thank you.” He prowled towards her.

  “—but I fear at times your capabilities do not match your ego.”

  He pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

  “I do not, but someone else can.” She grabbed the tail of his cravat and tugged him close. “You are not invincible. And n
ot all battles can be won.”

  “This one can be.” Slitting Sudworth’s throat would be but a moment’s work.

  His bloodlust must have shown. Netta narrowed her eyes to slits. “You will not go about killing people. Not for me.”

  “Why? He deserves it.”

  “It’s just… You can’t…” She threw up her hands. “An earl doesn’t behave in that manner. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  Everyone had a different definition of proper, he supposed. He hadn’t thought Netta would be squeamish when it came to the safety of her sister, but if it upset her to think on it, he wouldn’t discuss the matter in front of her.

  He ran his finger along the edge of her bodice. “Nothing can be done tonight. Let’s talk of something more pleasant.”

  Her breathing sped up, the tops of her breasts heaving delightfully. “I am in earnest.”

  “I realize that.” And when Netta was in earnest, she was a force to be reckoned with. He only needed to turn her ardor towards more pleasurable endeavors. “I can promise you there will be no blood spilled tonight. Let’s not ruin the remainder of our evening.”

  Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I should leave. It would be the sanest course of action.”

  The back of his neck prickled. “I won’t have you running away. I won’t allow it.”

  She pursed her lips and dipped her chin, looking every inch the stern disciplinarian as she glared up at him. “Is that so?”

  “‘Allow’ might be too bold a word.” He nestled against her, loving how her lush curves notched perfectly against his body. He ran his hands up and down her waist. “But I do have some alternatives I believe we should explore.”

  “I am much more amenable to alternatives than orders.” She pressed closer, her belly tight against his hardening cock.

  Solutions to her problems would take some concentration. Removing an underage girl from her father’s care was a sticky situation.