Page 42 of As the Earl Likes
Chapter 9
As Jo sat in the coach with her parents on the way to Henlow House for the betrothal ball, she couldn’t help thinking how strange this had all become. She’d never thought she would be betrothed, and certainly not to an earl with all the Society trappings that accompanied that. And she’d never, ever imagined her parents together for a social event as they were this evening.
She had no idea what to expect next, except the unexpected.
“I know I’ve already complimented your gown, but it really is stunning,” Jo’s father said from the rear-facing seat. “The fabric is so unique, and the design is beautifully original. I love the simple elegance of the style. Fussy flounces don’t suit you. Everyone will be watching you tonight, as if they weren’t going to be already,” he added with a low chuckle.
Jo hated that she would be the center of attention, but it was just for one night. “Thank you, Papa.”
The coach stopped in front of Henlow House, one of the largest homes in Grosvenor Square. The door opened, and a footman in the Henlow livery helped Jo down and then her mother. When her father stood on the pavement, they made their way to the front door, which was held open by another footman.
They’d arrived early in order to position themselves in the receiving line so attendees could be sure to greet the betrothed couple. Jo anticipated an ache in her cheeks from smiling too much and hoped refreshment would be accessible as her mouth was likely to become dry from talking.
The butler welcomed them and showed them to the drawing room on the first floor. The duchess was the only person present.
Dressed in a lavender gown trimmed in mulberry, Sheff’s mother appeared cool and serene, her narrow lips pressed together, and her hands clasped before her. “Good evening,” she said. “I expect Shefford any moment.” Her gaze moved over them, starting with Jo’s mother on Jo’s left, then sliding to Jo, then fixing on her father. The duchess’s eyes narrowed for the barest moment, and color rose in her cheeks.
Did she know Jo’s father?
Jo glanced at him to see his reaction, but there was none. He smiled benignly as he looked about the room.
“Your décor is so very tasteful and elegant, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her voice tight. Jo couldn’t tell if that was still a reaction to her father or simply the way the duchess sounded. Her tone had been much the same the other day when they’d been on Bond Street.
The duchess returned her focus to Jo. “The gown is spectacular. It was a very good choice. And I’m pleased to see your hair looks fashionable. I’m glad you are wearing the combs I loaned you.”
Jo hadn’t really wanted to use the duchess’s diamond-encrusted combs, but she wanted to quibble over it even less. Besides, wearing them would send a message that she was endorsed by Sheff’s mother, and since Jo hadn’t been certain that was the case, she’d taken it as a positive sign.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jo replied. “I appreciate you lending them to me. I’ll return them tomorrow.”
“That would be acceptable,” the duchess said. Her brow creased, and her brows pitched low over her eyes, making her appear rather distressed. “What is not acceptable is the reason for your missing the ball the other night. You said you were otherwise engaged.”
“Actually, I said that,” Jo’s mother interjected.
The duchess sent Jo’s mother a withering stare before looking back to Jo. “I have come to learn that you were working at that gaming club. You must cease doing so immediately.”
Jo heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath just as her own belly somersaulted. But it was her father who spoke. He took a step toward the duchess and summoned his most charming smile. “My dear duchess, let us not speak of such matters tonight when we are celebrating such a glorious occasion—the joining of our two families.”
The duchess’s eyes nearly popped out of her face. It was almost comical, in fact, despite there being nothing amusing about this conversation. Jo appreciated her father’s efforts, but felt certain the duchess hadn’t considered a union between her son and Jo to be a joining of their families. No, she would hope to never encounter the Harkers ever again, especially the woman who owned a gaming club.
Sheff strolled in then, his features set in a pleasant smile that seemed to crack as soon as he looked at them. “Good evening,” he said robustly. “I’m sorry I’m running late. One of my coaching horses picked up a pebble. I had to take a hack.”
“I’m just glad you are finally here,” the duchess murmured, her expression settling into one of mild irritation instead of raging anger. “You must ensure your betrothed understands that she can no longer work in that gaming club.” She turned her attention back to Jo and her parents. “We will stand in the receiving line for at least an hour, at which time I will assess whether we need to continue. I would estimate it may be closer to two hours. If you would like a drink before we move to our places, Percy, our butler, will make sure you have it.”
The duchess swept from the room, leaving the four of them to stare after her. Jo’s father went to shake Sheff’s hand.
Jo’s mother leaned toward her and whispered, “I’m so relieved this betrothal is fake. I fear the duchess will make any woman who is foolish enough to wed her son quite miserable.”
“Do you think she knows Papa?” Jo whispered back. “I had the sense she recognized him. But then, you’ve also met her before.”
“Mmm, yes.”
Jo was beginning to grow frustrated with her mother’s vague responses on this issue. “You said it wasn’t an interesting story, but I should like to know how you all know one another.”
“Why?” Jo’s mother shrugged. “We met years ago, and as you can see, we did not become friendly. Indeed, we’ve had no reason to cross paths since. And this confluence will, thankfully, be temporary.”
Before Jo could query her further, her mother went on to say, “Don’t let Shefford talk you into not working at the club.”
