Page 41 of Unmasking the Earl

“Ah, his alias.” Portia nodded, then carefully queried, “Does Mr. Carnforth know of your connection with the Earl of Stranraer?”

“Of course not.” She hadn’t known it herself until a couple of days ago.

“Why not? Wouldn’t it make him jealous? If he were, it could do no harm to your cause.”

Cassie indeed looked forward to telling Julian she was acquainted with the Earl of Stranraer. Well acquainted. Just as soon as that vengeful, ungrateful rogue upstairs stopped playing at spy and resumed his rightful place in Society.

“I shall try it, of course,” she said, somewhat disheartened. “But I need to get Julian thinking of me as something more than a sisterly friend before I have the slightest hope of making him jealous.”

“More of those scandalous lessons you told me about in your letter? You really are too shocking! What if you’d been discovered?”

“I’m starting to see how foolish I was. I suppose I just needed to realize that for myself, rather than have an overbearing, controlling, exasperating man like Ned point it out to me.”

“Ned?” her friend said with arched brows.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I knew him as a servant. Don’t read anything into it.”

“Why not? I think he likes you. And he’s very handsome.”

“Even when covered in stale beer?”

“I quite like the bedraggled look. He has stunning brown eyes with delightfully long lashes and impressive eyebrows. And his mouth! Although grim at the moment, it is beautifully sculpted. He’d be lovely to kiss, I’m sure.”

Cassie’s cheeks flamed, remembering just how lovely…

“Has he good teeth?” Portia continued. “I’ve not yet seen him smile.”

“I really couldn’t say.” Still feeling hopelessly self-conscious, Cassie raised her eyes to the ceiling at a peculiar noise. “Whatever it is that?”

A dark stain was spreading slowly across the pitted plaster.

Portia exclaimed in horror, “Bless my soul, it must be water from his bath! You must go up immediately,” she commanded, “and tell him to stop splashing about at once.”

Cassie balked. “That would be most improper. You go.”

Portia made a face. “I’ve only just met the earl. Send Ella if you don’t want to do it.”

“But she’s just about to serve supper,” Cassie pointed out. “Oh, very well, I’ll bang loudly on the door. But I shan’t go in and mop up the mess. He’ll have to do that himself.”

“Tell him to stem the flood before the whole ceiling falls on our heads!”

Cassie hurried up the narrow stairs and stood before the door, heart pounding furiously. She knocked.

No reply, just a good deal of splashing.

She knocked again, as hard as her knuckles could bear.

Still no reply. Gritting her teeth, she opened the door and stood in the doorway, eyes firmly shut and averted.

“My Lord? Ned!”

The splashing ceased, as did the strange humming sound coming from the direction of the tub.

“Cassie? What on earth?” he demanded, clearly astonished at the intrusion.

Her eyes still shut, she pointed at the floor. “Cease your splashing at once, my lord. You’re ruining the ceiling below.”

There was a watery pause. Then he said, “Terribly sorry. I hadn’t realized. But good God, woman. What on earth are you thinking, coming into a room where you know a naked man is to be found? Has Wycherley ruined your sensibilities completely?”