Page 6 of As the Earl Likes
The scheme of a faux betrothal rose in his mind. The perfect candidate was standing right in front of him.
He locked his eyes with hers. “Marry me, Jo.”
The duke groaned. Then he heaved.
“No, you are not to be sick again!” Sheff hoisted him up and steered him down the corridor. “I’ll call on you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder, thinking tonight’s disaster had turned out rather well.
There was a first time for everything.
Chapter 2
The following afternoon, Jo paced the sitting room of the lodgings she shared with her mother, which occupied the entire first floor over the Siren’s Call. It consisted of this room, a dining room, their bedchambers, a bathing chamber, and a study lined with bookcases where her mother worked. That had been Jo’s favorite room growing up. As her mother had sat at her desk balancing accounts or drafting bills, Jo had sprawled upon the settee and devoured every book in the room. Then her mother had added more. And more. That was why the walls were lined with cases.
Pausing, Jo put her hand to her temple. Had the Earl of Shefford actually proposed marriage to her last night?
He had to have been joking. And yet he’d said he would call today. It was after noon, and he hadn’t yet. She supposed it wouldn’t have been appropriate to do so before now. How she loathed Society’s rules.
Walking to the windows that overlooked the street below, she looked for his coach. Of course it wasn’t there. He wasn’t coming.
“Josephine,” her mother called from the study, which adjoined the sitting room.
Jo walked into the study where her mother sat at her desk, her head bent. “What happened with the duke last night? I trust he was expelled with no undue difficulty?” She looked up at Jo expectantly.
“Yes.” Jo wasn’t going to tell her about Sheff’s ridiculous question. It had been a jest. Or a flirtation. They did that with one another. She couldn’t deny he was attractive, with his thick brown hair that waved just perfectly from his forehead and his blue eyes that shone with amusement. Last night, however, they’d been dark and intense. She’d never seen him quite like he’d been last night. But then, she’d never witnessed him cleaning up his father’s mess, which it seemed he did often.
Jo wanted to ask her mother about her past with the duke but wasn’t sure how to phrase it. She didn’t normally struggle to find words or nose her way into someone’s business, but her mother was different. She was the only person who intimidated Jo.
“What is it?” her mother asked with a sigh. “I can tell you want to ask me something. I’ll wager it’s about what I said last night.”
“About the Duke of Henlow, yes.”
Tossing her pen on the desk and sitting back in her chair, Jo’s mother chuckled. “It’s not a captivating tale. I was young and stupid, and he was incredibly handsome and seductive. And he was a duke. Or heir to a dukedom. I forget if he’d inherited yet.”
“You were intimate with him?”
“Once. I don’t think either of us was that impressed, but we were young.” She narrowed her eyes briefly at Jo. “His son is even more attractive. Are you and he intimate?”
“No,” Jo said quickly. “We are friendly, nothing more. It was sheer luck that he was downstairs when I found Agnes with His Grace.”
“His Disgrace, you mean.” Jo’s mother shook her head. “I do feel sorry for his wife. How awful to be leg shackled to one such as him.”
Jo perched on the settee. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. You’ve never let the bonds of marriage impede you. Why should she?”
Her mother laughed again. “That is true. However, I am not held to the same standards as the Duchess of Henlow.” She sobered and sat forward in her chair, pinning Jo with a serious stare. “I would advise you not to wed. Unless you absolutely feel you must have a child. In that case, it’s probably best if you do, though you can certainly do as I have done and live a separate life.”
“Is that why you married my father?” Jo asked. “So you could have a child?”
“Not entirely. I certainly didn’t make the decision in that order. I was with child and realized I needed to marry him if I wanted it to be legitimate.”
“It…you mean me.”
“No, I lost that child,” her mother said softly.
Jo had never known that. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Her mother shrugged, but there was a hint of regret in the motion. “It was a sad time. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be a mother until I wasn’t going to be one. Then I set out to change that, and I was lucky to have you.”
“Papa has always told me that you loved each other once.” Though, he had also never mentioned the child they’d lost. “You don’t speak of that.”
