Page 60 of As the Earl Likes
So, he observed instead. He noted her mischievous smile as she turned over the dealer’s card, her laugh when one of the players lost melodramatically, her genuine glee for the player who won.
She reset the table, her gaze moving about until she met his. Her brows arched briefly in surprise. He lifted his tankard in a silent toast.
Then she dealt the cards, and Sheff watched another hand. Then another. Her fingers were long and slender, her nails neatly trimmed. She was not wearing her betrothal ring.
That made him frown slightly. He liked seeing it on her hand. Because it was the only physical claim he could make on her.
That afternoon, they’d enjoyed a wonderful promenade in Hyde Park. The weather had finally been slightly warm, with the sun making a prolonged appearance. But then the wind had picked up and rain clouds had moved in, prompting them to hasten their departure.
But for a time, he’d enjoyed laughter and ease with Jo and their friends. He began to see how a man like Somerton had traded his bachelorhood for marriage. Not just any marriage, but a lifetime with a woman he clearly adored. Sheff had never seen Somerton so happy. Giddy, even. And it was obvious his wife felt the same. What would happen when one of them inevitably stopped feeling that way?
What would happen when neither of them did?
The voice came from the depths of Sheff’s mind, and he wanted to shove it right back where it had come from. Love like that was rare. What were the odds that three of his friends—Somerton, Droxford, and Wellesbourne—were fortunate enough to have found that?
And what about Bane? Sheff didn’t even know if his friend had loved his wife. Bane had been caught in a compromising position with Pandora Barclay, and his reaction had been to say he was already betrothed to the woman he’d ended up marrying. The woman who had recently died in childbirth. Had Bane loved her? Was he, like Keele, grieving the loss of something that was already nearly impossible? How cruel to have that only for it to be ripped away.
That alone was enough to warn one away from love and marriage. Better to just avoid those entirely. Then there would be no hurt. Not like the humiliation his mother endured. Or the emptiness Keele sometimes spoke of.
Sheff took a long drink of ale. He needed to stop thinking of love. Especially in relation to Jo. He wanted her. Desperately. And that was not the same thing.
“How delightful to see a man unabashedly enamored of his betrothed.”
Startled, Sheff turned to address the man who’d walked up beside him. In his midforties, Allard was a regular patron of the Siren’s Call. Sheff knew him fairly well. He was an MP for some constituency on the outskirts of London.
“Evening, Allard.” Sheff couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response to the man’s initial observation. He couldn’t very well tell him he was dead wrong about what he thought he was seeing.
“Do you plan to move the wedding up? I hear you haven’t even set a date.”
“We have no plans to do so. Marry soon, I mean,” Sheff clarified, though the latter part was also not happening.
Allard cocked his head. “Why not? Judging by the way you look at her, I must wonder why you’d want to wait.” He chuckled, then sobered. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be indelicate.”
“But you are being intrusive.” Sheff realized he sounded like an ass, but he didn’t like what Allard was saying.
And why not?
Because it was true. Sheff looked at Jo the way a child looked at a sweet or a toy they’d been denied. No, it was more than that. He yearned for her in a way that went beyond simple want or even desire. He ached for her.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Allard said, turning slightly as if he would leave.
“My apologies, Allard. As you can imagine, many people ask me about when we will wed, particularly my mother.”
Allard smiled. “I can imagine. You must do what you wish, though. Even if that means escaping to Gretna Green,” he added with a laugh. “That’s what my wife and I did.”
Sheff turned his head toward the other man. “Really, why?”
“My mother-in-law was perhaps like your mother. She wanted to manage every aspect of the wedding, and a week before it was scheduled, my wife asked me to whisk her away to Scotland instead.” He shrugged. “So I did.”
“You’ve been married how long?” Sheff asked.
“Twenty-one years. I love her more today than I did yesterday, and I shall love her even more tomorrow.” Allard’s green gaze turned wistful. “That kind of love is the reason I asked why you wanted to wait to marry. I can see you have that for Miss Harker, and in my experience, once you’ve fallen in love and know you want to spend forever with someone, you can’t wait to begin.”
“You are not the first gentleman to tell me that,” Sheff said wryly. “However, I don’t know that I truly feel the kind of love you are referencing.”
“Indeed?” Allard sounded surprised. “You appear, to me, to be a man far gone, but perhaps I am wrong.” He blew out a breath. “I have had too much ale tonight. You must ignore me. I’m waxing romantic and offering unsolicited advice. Have a good evening.” He nodded at Sheff, then departed the cardroom.
Sheff frowned after him, then returned his attention to Jo. But she was gone. Another employee had taken her place.
