Page 41 of As the Earl Likes
“Unlike you,” she said with a smile, but there was concern in her eyes. “I hope you aren’t suffering later. Turn. I think you have grass stuck to your coat.”
Sheff pivoted, displaying his back to her. She brushed her gloved hand over his shoulders and back, moving down to the tails. He was surprised she didn’t stop, then was titillated once more as she stroked his backside in her efforts to dispel the grass.
Arousal struck once more, and Sheff turned again, not caring if she was finished. “Thank you.”
While he would have liked nothing more than for her to fully caress his backside, preferably without clothing, he didn’t want to draw more attention than they likely already had. He could only hope that people had been paying attention to the runaway horse instead of him and Jo tangled together.
Rather than complete their circuit of the ring, Sheff located Lady Droxford—she was still with Min and Ellis—and started toward them. His mother was nowhere to be seen.
The three ladies were looking toward the horse, which Evan had led to a small group of people, a few of whom had dismounted from their own horses. Presumably, they were from the young woman’s party.
“Did you see that?” the baroness asked, her eyes round.
“We were nearly trampled,” Jo replied wryly. “Sheff had to tackle me to the ground to avoid being run down, though he was kind enough to take the brunt of the fall.”
“Good heavens!” the baroness declared. “Are you both all right?”
“I suspect I may be sore tomorrow.” Sheff smiled despite the fact that he was actually in pain now. His shoulder had taken much of the impact.
“I do hope you’re all right,” Jo said, her brow creasing. She touched his arm. “Seek a physician if you are in too much pain.”
“I will.” He rather enjoyed her concern. What’s more, he didn’t think she was pretending.
“Go home and take a warm bath,” Min said. “Let Spears dote on you.” She referred to his valet.
“That would give him great satisfaction.” What would give Sheff satisfaction, however, would be to take Jo home with him into the bath. He’d soap her body, then explore every contour of her flesh.
Dammit, he was growing hard again. Before he rushed off, which he was highly inclined to do, he made himself take Jo’s hand. They needed to play their parts, and she’d done such a fine job of appearing to be enamored. He ought to do the same.
Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, managing to find her bare flesh above the edge of her glove. He ought not to have done that, for it probably violated their contract. But he could not bring himself to regret doing so. Not when he had felt the pulse of her heart against his lips. It beat strong and sure, if perhaps a trifle fast.
He met her gaze. “Until Saturday, my love.”
“Please send word tomorrow with how you are feeling.”
Nodding, he released her hand, then bade good day to the others before striding away from them, grateful for the cool breeze dampening his ardor. He needed to bring that under control. He could not spend the next several weeks pining after his faux betrothed.
“Did you see how they were so indecently entwined on the ground?”
The question came from a pair of women standing off the path, their backs to where Sheff was walking by. He froze, knowing they were talking about him and Jo.
“It’s not surprising, though, is it? Shefford is a horrible rogue, and that Harker chit is no better than a common strumpet.”
“That is why he’s marrying her,” the first voice replied. “She is lowborn enough to suffer his rakish behavior. Honestly, it’s kind of him not to expect someone of his own class to deal with his appetites. A woman such as Miss Harker is the right match.”
“I suppose you’re right. If he married someone appropriate, she’d be as miserable as his poor mother.”
“Well, at least she’d be a duchess. One can endure a great deal for such a lofty position. I’m sure that is what enticed Miss Harker to lure Shefford into her bed. Not that it took much,” the woman added with a deep chuckle. The other woman joined her in laughing.
Shefford began walking again, his stomach roiling. He couldn’t listen to another word. In truth, he’d wanted to rage at them for speaking about Jo that way, but what good would it have done? People saw her—and him—as they wanted to, not as they truly were.
Except, wasn’t he a rogue? His behavior was the very definition of rakish. And then to hear them mention his mother and her suffering… Sheff was reminded of his legacy, of who he was and would always be. They were right. He wasn’t worthy of an “appropriate” young lady, and that included Jo. She was perhaps the most appropriate woman he’d ever met.
Though, appropriate didn’t begin to encompass everything that Jo was: fiercely intelligent, incredibly capable, passionately independent. Those were the traits that came to mind when he thought of her. Which was far more often than he should, considering their entanglement was entirely fake.
Sheff didn’t think it was entirely fake anymore. At least, not for him.
And that was a problem.
