Page 55 of As the Earl Likes
Lifting a shoulder, Somerton said, “She’s too smart to let you misbehave, which makes me think you must truly have forsaken your rakish ways.”
“That would mean you’ve all fallen,” Price said. “Except me.” He sounded smug.
“It’s not a bad thing to fall in love,” Keele said quietly as he contemplated the port in his glass. “And it can certainly happen when one least expects it.” His lips rose in a faint, humorless smile before he sipped his wine.
“I didn’t realize your marriage was a love match,” Somerton said.
“It wasn’t. At first.” Keele spoke in a clipped tone that did not invite further curiosity.
Sheff had no hope to be fortunate enough to find love even once. He looked around at his friends, some of whom were newly married, newly in love. He couldn’t imagine the emotion would last.
“When are we losing you to matrimony?” Price asked, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.
“Not until the autumn or winter,” Sheff replied.
“I confess that makes me question whether you are actually in love,” Wellesbourne said skeptically. “When I realized I loved Persephone, I couldn’t wait to be wed. It was actual torture to be apart from her.”
Somerton nodded vigorously. “Obviously, I felt the same since I married Gwen with the utmost haste.”
Price stuck a finger in his ear. “I don’t want to hear about how you couldn’t live without my sister.”
This provoked laughter, but Sheff was thinking of Jo. He definitely understood the torture aspect. Being near her was both delicious and agonizing. The torment was being in her presence, not away from her. Away from her, he felt… as though he wanted to see her again. Indeed, right now, he was thinking when that would be. Not for two more days. How disappointing.
But it wasn’t torture! He was not in love. He was, however, in lust, but that was to be expected. He was, after all, a rogue cut in the image of his father.
Sheff considered telling them that he planned to leave town, but he didn’t know how to explain why, not without revealing that he was having some sort of introspective crisis. How could he talk about it when he barely allowed himself to think about it?
“What I would like to know,” Sheff said, moving to change the topic, “is how Price leapt on a moving horse behind its rider without injuring himself, the rider, or the horse.” He pinned Price with an expectant stare, his mouth lifting in a teasing smile.
Price shrugged, and everyone turned toward him.
“That is a very good question,” Somerton said. “Do tell.”
Wellesbourne held up a hand. “I think I need to hear what happened first.”
Droxford explained that his wife had seen it and went on to describe the escapade.
“The rider nearly ran me and Jo down,” Sheff added. “What you did, Price, was nothing short of terrifying.”
“Something needed to be done. Miss Pilkington was not going to be able to control her mount. And she was in danger of trampling people.” Price looked to Sheff. “You and Jo included.”
“But how on earth did you learn to do that?” Sheff asked.
Again, Price shrugged. “I like horses, and sometimes I practice…things.”
“If working for the treasury doesn’t meet your satisfaction, you could seek employment at Astley’s,” Somerton suggested.
This was met with more laughter as Price smiled. His expression carried an almost mischievous cast as he sipped his whisky.
It felt good to be with friends again, Sheff realized. Even if most of them were now married. He actually found himself feeling slightly envious. They just seemed so bloody happy, especially Wellesbourne with his newborn son, and in spite of the exhaustion hiding in his gaze.
Sheff reminded himself that their joy wouldn’t last. Nothing did.
Chapter 12
Jo settled into the hack with her father, who was accompanying her to Sir Alfred Hightooth’s rout. As they began moving along Coventry Street, he gave Jo an approving look.
“That ensemble is fabulous. The vibrant orange-red is perfect for you.” He patted her hand.
