Page 78 of As the Earl Likes
“Except it isn’t in the past since you both dislike each other. And the duchess’s treatment of me goes beyond not liking me as her son’s choice of wife. There is something…personal to it.” Jo hadn’t shared everything the duchess had said with her mother—especially not the woman’s comments regarding Jo’s parents.
“It is personal.” Jo’s mother’s lip curled. She lifted her gaze to Jo’s. “When I tell you this, please don’t think poorly of your father. That is the reason I didn’t want to share the history.”
Jo’s gut clenched. How did her father play into this? She feared she might already know. “Did he have an affair with her?”
“Yes. When I was expecting you. I was rather devastated, actually.” She said that matter-of-factly, but Jo could imagine there had been plenty of emotions when it had happened.
“That was cold of him.” Jo would always love her father, but learning this was upsetting, to say the least.
“He has always been a hedonist,” her mother said with a shrug. “I was young and foolish. I thought he would give all that up when we wed because I believed he loved me. And he did. I think he still does. But, as he explained to me once, he was not meant to be monogamous.”
Jo thought of her mother expecting a child and discovering her husband had been unfaithful. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Mama.” Then she thought of the Duchess of Henlow and her stringent expectations. “I’m also shocked the duchess would do such a thing.”
“She is no saint, regardless of what she’d have people believe. What’s worse is I believe she might have had a child as a result of their liaison. She was gone from Society for months. It could just have been a coincidence, but she wasn’t in London at all for the entire Season.”
Considering what Jo knew of the duchess, she wondered why the woman would choose to miss an entire Season—unless she had to. “If true, that is worse.” Jo wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to speak to the woman again without wanting to throw her past mistakes in her face. How dare she say Jo’s parents—particularly her mother—weren’t good enough when she had betrayed her own family?
Jo counted back the years. Sheff would have been a small child when this happened, and Min would not yet have been born. Jo sucked in a breath. Was Min Jo’s half sister?
“What?” her mother asked, blinking at Jo.
“I was just thinking of the timeline and wondering if Min is my half sister, but she’s too young if the duchess was expecting while you were. Her child would be close to my age.”
“If the child even lived,” her mother said. “And she likely had it somewhere far outside London. The child could be anywhere.”
Or it could be living under the woman’s roof. Jo thought of Ellis’s age—she was just a few months younger than Jo. What if she wasn’t the duke’s illegitimate child, but the duchess’s? And what if she was Jo’s half sister? Ellis’s blonde hair was a bit like Jo’s father’s…
“I don’t understand why the duchess wouldn’t just have passed her child off as her husband’s,” Jo noted.
Her mother shrugged. “That is strange, but I don’t think the duchess possesses a natural amount of reason. She seems ruled by her emotions, and appearances mean far too much to her. It may be that she couldn’t even stand the thought of raising an illegitimate child, even if it came from her womb.”
That certainly made sense considering how the duchess treated Ellis, as if she were anathema. Did Ellis know? “Does Papa know about this child?” Jo asked.
Her mother shook her head. “I never said anything to him, and he’s never indicated awareness that the duchess was with child. Their liaison was short-lived.”
Jo didn’t want to voice her suspicions about Ellis. None of this was her business. Especially since she wasn’t marrying Sheff.
But what if Ellis was her half sister? Wouldn’t that be Jo’s business? Rather, Jo’s family?
Her mother stood. “I’ve much to do today. I’m just glad you are not actually marrying Shefford. And I’m pleased to see you are recovered from your tendre.” She gave Jo a warm smile, then departed the common room.
Jo organized the candles on the tables, replacing them as needed, then went upstairs to their lodgings. She was going to miss living here, but it was time she embraced her independence—and spinsterhood.
She only hoped that was what she would be—a spinster—because over the past few days she’d begun to worry she might end up in another category: unwed mother. Her courses were late, but they were not always the most reliable, so she was not going to worry yet.
She arrived on the landing that led to the entrance hall where she encountered Mrs. Rand. “I was just coming to fetch you,” the housekeeper said. “You’ve a caller. Lady Minerva Halifax.”
“You can just call her Min to me, if you like,” Jo said. “She’s a friend.”
“I will try to remember that. It’s odd that you would call someone like her friend, but I suppose she must be a decent sort if you like her.”
“Not all nobles are stiff and condescending.” Jo thought of the contrast between Min and her mother. They could not be more different. She would also compare them to Tamsin and Gwen, but neither of them had been born noble. Or had they? Both had viscounts for grandfathers. Or barons. Or something. In fact, if Jo remembered, she herself had a great-grandfather who was the younger brother of a viscount. Or a baron. Or something. She didn’t know because it had never mattered. And it still didn’t.
Nobility was a construct and had nothing to do with character. That was what mattered.
“Shall I bring tea?” Mrs. Rand asked.
“It’s a bit early, I think. But thank you for offering.” Jo made her way to the sitting room where Min stood at the window looking down at Coventry Street below.
