Page 54 of As the Earl Likes
Jo would host her own literary salon one day. It might not be for quite some time, but she would work toward that goal.
How easy it would be if she were actually the Countess of Shefford. Lady Standish started another poem. It was about the sea. And sexual gratification, apparently.
The waves crash upon the shore. My body rises and falls. The rhythm is intrinsic and intoxicating.
Over and over, the sea advances and retreats. Until a rush of water overtakes the sand. I cry out in ecstasy.
Or so it seemed to Jo that Lady Standish was comparing the ocean to an orgasm. Perhaps it was merely that Jo had been thinking too much of sex and having an orgasm. With Sheff.
So long as she only thought about it. They did not need to be entangled any more than they already were.
When their ruse was finished, Jo could consider taking a lover. She hadn’t done so in more than a year.
Those were the kind of entanglements she preferred. Nothing deep or permanent. Nothing that would make her feel trapped. Because nothing was more important to her than freedom.
Thanks to Sheff, she would have it.
Sheff strolled into the library at the Phoenix Club and was shocked to see so many of his friends present. They occupied the largest seating area, and it appeared as though Somerton had recently arrived, for he had just sat down. With dark blond hair and an easy smile, he was too handsome for his own good and women fell at his feet. Or they used to anyway. Now that he was married, the viscount only had eyes for his wife.
“Sheff, join us!” Evan Price called. He and Somerton were now related by marriage since Evan’s sister was the new viscountess. At one point, Price had been upset that Somerton was paying his sister attention. No one could blame him since Somerton’s reputation had been only slightly better than Sheff’s.
A footman asked Sheff what he wanted to drink as Sheff made his way to the table. He’d barely sat down before the footman had returned with a glass of claret.
“We’re all here,” Somerton remarked. “Except Bane.”
“Even Wellesbourne,” Sheff noted, looking toward the duke. His dark eyes looked a bit tired, but he had a very young son at home. Indeed, this was the first time he’d been to the club since the birth of his heir. “Shall we drink a toast to your return?”
“If you must,” Wellesbourne said with a grimace. “I won’t be here terribly long. I confess I am exhausted. We try to let the nurse manage the babe, but we usually allow him to fall asleep in our chamber. We are hopelessly smitten.” He shook his head.
“Enjoy it,” Keele said softly as he raised his glass. “To happiness and fatherhood.”
Everyone lifted their glasses and drank.
“And to Bane,” Wellesbourne said, keeping his glass aloft. “He was robbed of both those things, and I can only hope he will find them again one day.”
“Hear, hear,” Sheff said, and everyone drank again.
They were all quiet a moment. Sheff had written to his friend but had to think his words wouldn’t do much to ease Bane’s grief.
“Even I am finding this to be too maudlin,” Droxford said drily, lightening the mood that had fallen over them. A few of them chuckled, and Droxford continued, “Seems like we should all be giving Sheff a hard time about finally being caught in the parson’s trap.”
“And with Jo Harker!” Wellesbourne said, his eyes rounding. “I would never have guessed. Can’t imagine your mother is happy about that,” he added with a laugh.
Sheff frowned. “She’s even angrier than I anticipated. I thought she would at least like Jo and see why I would choose her. She’s clever and capable, and she isn’t going to try to overtake my mother as a hostess.” He looked at his glass. “Actually, perhaps my mother doesn’t realize the latter. I shall underscore that point to her.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re betrothed,” Price said, studying Sheff over the rim of his glass. “You don’t seem the type to fall in love. But then neither did Somerton.” He sent his brother-in-law a wry look.
“It just takes the right woman,” Sheff said. He thought of what he’d told his mother recently about Min finding a husband, that she only had to find one who was right for her. Did Sheff think his sister could fall in love? Why her and not him?
Because she was not like their father.
Still, she’d grown up with the same parents as Sheff had. Perhaps his mother was right, that neither one of them would have any romantic inclination. He didn’t think he did, but he realized he didn’t really know how Min felt. He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t ever want to wed either. Their parents’ marriage had all but ruined the notion of a happily ever after.
Somerton inclined his head. “And Jo is a very fine woman. Truly, you could not have chosen better, Sheff. She is quite perfect for you, really.”
“I agree,” Price put in before taking a drink of whisky.
“What makes you say that?” Sheff was most keen to hear.
