Page 11 of As the Earl Likes
Sadly, he was right. There would always be someone willing to suffer horrid behavior for the sake of a title and wealth. And here Jo was considering a scheme she did not want to participate in for the reward of money. Alas, she was not going to be a duke someday. She had to make choices for her own security and happiness.
“When will you give me no choice but to end our betrothal?” she asked drily.
“I should say the end of summer. There will also be much less likelihood of lasting gossip. The Season is over, and we don’t even need to be in London. I usually spend part of August near Weston at my father’s seaside estate.”
Weston? Jo could probably visit her mother, provided they had someone to watch the Siren’s Call. “Oddly enough, my mother will be there this summer. I could visit at the same time.”
“I hadn’t considered that you would need to be there. You could hear about my misbehavior from your friends—they are in Weston for the entire month of August—via letter.” He smiled and nodded. “Though, if you have occasion to be in Weston, that could work quite well.”
“I’ll have to see if that fits into my plans.” If there was no one to manage the Siren’s Call, she couldn’t leave London. Did she really want to travel all the way to Weston to pretend to have her heart broken? That sounded rather dismal. The letter idea was far superior.
“You must do whatever is most convenient for you,” Sheff said. “If you do decide to come to Weston, I shall pay your expenses. It’s only fair.”
She supposed that was true.
He gave her a hopeful look. “Are we agreed, then? I can provide you with a banknote tonight at the ball, if you like. Two hundred and fifty pounds now and two hundred and fifty pounds when we are finished. If that is agreeable to you.”
It was the smart thing for him to do. He was offering her a huge sum and should protect his investment. “Yes, though if I agree to this scheme, I will see it through to the bitter end.”
“I don’t doubt it.” His mouth lifted in a thoroughly roguish smile.
“I have one more requirement.”
“Name it.”
“No kissing or any other romantic overtures, even for the sake of looking as though we are in love.”
“You must let me kiss your hand, at least.”
“Fine. Make that two more requirements. I may add other requirements as I see fit.” She was worried she wasn’t thinking of everything just now. This was a monumental decision—not just because it would dictate her life for the next two months, but because her life was about to change. There would be difficult conversations with her mother, both about this betrothal and whether Jo actually wanted to assume management and ownership of the Siren’s Call.
“Done,” he said eagerly, holding out his hand. “Are we agreed?”
Jo hesitated the barest moment before clasping his gloved hand in hers. “We are.”
Everything had shifted. Her mother wanted her to take over the club sooner than Jo had expected. Jo had to face the fact that she really didn’t want to take over the club. Sheff’s offer gave her the freedom to do what she wished—she had only to tell her mother. And that would be difficult.
It might also be premature. She needed to think this through. But for the first time, she could do so knowing there was another path for her if she wanted to take it.
None of that considered how Jo’s actual life was about to change for the rest of the Season. She would be surveyed, discussed, judged. Her insides roiled at what she was about to subject herself to.
She dearly hoped she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter 3
Arriving at the Phoenix Club that night, Sheff went directly to the first-floor members’ den to have a drink with his friends before going downstairs to the ball. He typically did so—attended a ball—with a sense of disgruntlement, but for the first time ever, he was actually looking forward to it. Because he had a plan that would ensure he could enjoy the rest of the Season without being pestered by his parents and without the specter of the Marriage Mart haunting him everywhere he went.
He hadn’t been sure Jo would accept his offer. She’d been very hesitant—until he’d offered her five hundred pounds. He was going to suggest three hundred, but once he realized she wasn’t leaping at the chance to help him, he’d elevated the offer. And it would be worth every shilling, even though it was only a temporary reprieve. By next Season, he’d likely be right back where he was, with his parents badgering him to take a wife.
Or not. A great deal could happen between now and then, such as his parents realizing and acknowledging that no amount of harassment would force him to take a wife. Indeed, their behavior had the opposite effect. Their demands had not once swayed him on the point of marriage. Rather, they’d driven him to be even more steadfast in his resolve to remain unwed.
He also had good reason to cling to bachelorhood. He would not subject a family to his nature, which was, unfortunately, too much like his father’s. And Sheff feared it would only grow worse over time, as his father’s behavior had done.
The rational part of Sheff’s brain told him that he was not as bad as his father, for he at least possessed self-awareness. But what if that changed? What if Sheff was powerless to stop that or even see it? Sometimes, watching his father act, he rather thought the duke suffered from a disease. That even if he wanted to change his ways, he could not.
That scared Sheff more than anything.
“Evening, Shefford.” The owner of the Phoenix Club, Lord Lucien Westbrook, stood near the entrance to the members’ den. “Will you be joining the ball tonight?”
