Page 3 of As the Earl Likes
“How shockingly astute of you,” Jo murmured with an appreciative nod. “And now you must excuse me so I may look for Agnes. I’m sure Becky will be along directly with your ale. She knows what you like.”
“I am an open book, I’m afraid.”
“Come now, Sheff, even you must have secrets,” Jo said with an almost flirtatious edge, but that was the relationship they shared—not quite flirting with one another, but not entirely platonic either. “I know you do.” She sent him a taunting look, daring him to ask what she imagined them to be.
But she was gone before he could ask.
A moment later, Becky brought him his ale, and they chatted for a few minutes. When she departed, Sheff took a drink as he contemplated whether he wanted to visit the cardroom.
Deciding he may as well, Sheff stood just as Jo returned. She strode straight for him, her face dark with concern. “Come with me,” she said without preamble before taking his hand and tugging him from the large common room.
Sheff had no choice but to leave his ale on the table as she pulled him through an arched doorway. There were stairs leading up and down. She released his hand and took the ascending staircase. As Sheff trailed behind, he wondered at the tingling sensation shooting from his palm and alerting his body to the fact that Jo was an exceptionally alluring woman. Who’d touched him.
Jerking his focus to whatever problem was at hand, he asked, “What is happening?”
“I’ve found Agnes.” Jo looked back at Sheff over her shoulder as they reached the first-floor landing. “She was not taking care of a personal matter, at least not to do with her.” She continued up the next flight to the second floor.
Jo opened a door into a small chamber. Moving through the space, she entered a narrow corridor. “We rent rooms here to some of the employees. Agnes has been living here since she was hired three months ago.”
They were going to Agnes’s lodgings, and she was not dealing with a personal matter.
Sheff reached out and snagged Jo’s elbow, drawing her to stop. “Why did you want me to come up here?”
Facing him, Jo pursed her lips. “I suppose it’s better if I prepare you before we just walk in. Agnes was…entertaining a gentleman. He has, unfortunately, become ill, and Agnes was afraid to leave him.”
A cold certainty settled into Sheff’s middle. “This gentleman wouldn’t be the Duke of Henlow, would he?”
Why else would Jo ask for his help specifically? What’s more, this was precisely the sort of activity Sheff’s father would engage in on a Thursday evening. Hell, any evening.
“Yes,” Jo replied. Her tone was short, succinct, but her gaze was soft, caring.
“Has he done this here before?” Sheff asked. Over the past few years, he’d had to rescue his father from countless similar situations, but never from the Siren’s Call. Most often, it was from some opera singer’s bed or one of many brothels he liked to visit.
Jo nodded. “It’s been a while, nearly a year, I’d say. My mother tossed him out that time and told him not to come back. I don’t think he has—until tonight.”
Sheff blew out a breath and muttered, “Lovely.” It seemed Jo did know Sheff’s secrets. Or one of them anyway. Summoning a bland, humorless smile, he gestured for her to continue along the corridor. “Shall we?”
Turning on her heel, Jo led him to the room at the end on the left. The duke lay face down on the floor next to Agnes’s narrow bed, wearing his shirt and breeches, which had been loosened. The rest of his clothing, including his boots, were strewn about the small bedchamber.
Agnes sat on the edge of the bed, a blanket drawn around her shift-clad form. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook. Upon seeing Sheff, she bolted to her feet, barely missing his father sprawled on the floor. His low snores filled the tight space.
“I’m so sorry. I was just trying to be hospitable. Him being a duke and all,” Agnes blathered. She sniffed and wiped the edge of her blanket over her nose. The lift of her arm exposed more of her shift, and Sheff noted a splash of sick on the garment.
He closed his eyes and tamped down the disgust coiling within him. He counted to three before opening his eyes again, his shame and fury buried once more.
“Did anything happen between you before he fell unconscious?” Jo asked.
Agnes stared at her. “I…yes.” She looked down at the floor. “But we did not have intercourse.”
Relief coursed through Sheff. He appreciated small triumphs.
“Still, if my mother finds out, you’ll be looking for a new job,” Jo said.
Sheff snapped his gaze to her. “Don’t let that happen. This isn’t Agnes’s fault. My father is a master manipulator. Furthermore, he is a duke. What young woman has the gumption to turn her back on him? Besides you,” he added.
“It isn’t my decision.” Jo sent poor Agnes a sympathetic glance. “My mother has no patience for serving maids who dawdle with customers. It is a condition of employment and made very clear at the outset.”
Agnes’s crying started anew. “I know. I’m so ashamed.” Sobs racked her frame.
