Page 7 of As the Earl Likes
“We did love one another, but only for a short time. Then I was content to be a mother, and he was delighted to take a mistress.” Her mother straightened. “Enough of that claptrap. I called you in here to speak to you about the future of the Siren’s Call.”
Had something happened? Jo oversaw the employees and spent more time at the club than her mother did these days, but her mother was still the owner and proprietress and would be for a good many years to come. “That almost sounds ominous.”
Jo couldn’t help feeling a touch of anxiety, for while she was committed to the club, she did not possess her mother’s passionate attachment. Why would she? Her mother had built the club from nothing with hard work and a vision for the future. Jo, however, wasn’t sure she shared that vision for her own future.
“I think I may wish to retire sooner than planned,” her mother said, causing Jo’s pulse to jump. “Marcel has leased a lovely cottage in Weston, of all places.” She laughed—almost gaily, which never failed to jolt Jo. Her mother exhibited a giddy sweetness whenever she was with or spoke of Marcel.
“But you don’t live together now, and you prefer it that way,” Jo said slowly. Her mother and Marcel had been together five years, but they maintained separate residences—on purpose.
Her mother shrugged faintly. “I may still prefer that, but I did tell him I would try to share the cottage. He says it’s plenty large enough for us to not see each other at all for days on end if we choose.”
That sounded larger than a cottage, but what did Jo know? “What if you don’t like it?”
“I will have to find my own cottage, I suppose.”
Jo stared at her. This was not the ambitious woman she’d known, who’d worked tirelessly to build a hugely successful enterprise. “You’re leaving London?”
“Just for a few months each year—for now. I’d say in five years, I’ll move to Weston permanently, assuming I like it. I honestly don’t know if I will. The idea of living near the sea is intriguing, but I’ve never lived outside London. I fear I won’t know what to do with quiet and fresh air.” She laughed again. Sobering, she cocked her head. “Or perhaps just three years. Five seems a long time.”
Jo was glad she’d been sitting down to receive this news. She’d long known her mother had planned for her to take over the Siren’s Call—she’d known forever, in fact. But Jo wasn’t sure she was destined to run a gaming club. She enjoyed attending literary salons and orations about science and nature and art. Her mother didn’t share the same cerebral pursuits, which wasn’t to say her mother wasn’t intelligent. Jewel Harker was the cleverest woman Jo knew. And she had an appreciation for art. How could she not when her lover was an accomplished portraitist?
“I’m surprised to hear this,” Jo admitted. She’d thought she had more time to decide whether she really wanted to follow her mother’s path. Or perhaps she was hoping for more time to want to do that. Her mother worked so hard, so tirelessly, and Jo didn’t feel the same passion for owning a club.
“I’m surprised to be saying it, in truth.” She gave Jo a warm smile. “You’re ready for this, my dear. In fact, I’d like you to start managing the ledgers next week.”
The bell indicating someone had come to the door to their lodgings sounded. Their housekeeper, Mrs. Rand, would no doubt answer it, but Jo wished she could use it as an excuse to end this conversation.
“This is a great deal to take in,” Jo said.
“I know. Which is why we’ll wait to start your transition until next week. And it’s not as if I’m going anywhere yet. We won’t leave for Weston until the middle of July.”
That was less than three months from now. Jo would be alone here. Who would watch over things on the evenings she wished to be elsewhere? She spent most Monday nights at one literary salon or another.
Before she could ask whom her mother had in mind to assist Jo—for she couldn’t mean to abandon her without any support—Mrs. Rand stepped over the threshold of the study. “Miss Harker, the Earl of Shefford is here to see you.”
Jo rose, so glad for the interruption that it took her a moment to recollect why he might be calling. To discuss marriage. She swallowed an urge to laugh.
“Shefford?” Jo’s mother asked, her brow arched high. “Was there a problem with his father last night?”
“No, not really.” Jo surmised the duke was just a problem in general. Last night had seemed typical. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sheff. “Excuse me, Mama.”
“Close the door so I’m not disturbed,” her mother said as Jo made her way out.
Jo made sure the door latched, particularly since she’d no desire for her mother to overhear whatever the earl had to say.
Shefford stood just inside the sitting room, his hat in his hands, his gaze moving about the room until settling on her. “Good afternoon, Jo.”
She walked to where he was, preferring they sat on this side of the room, as far away from her mother’s study as possible. “Afternoon, Sheff. I’m surprised to see you.”
“Are you?” He also appeared surprised. “I told you I would call.”
A bead of panic wriggled up her spine. “I didn’t think you were serious. Let us take a walk.” Jo really didn’t want her mother overhearing anything. She gestured for him to precede her into the entrance hall, where she grabbed her hat and gloves from a small table.
The earl waited while she donned her accessories. “After you,” he said politely, inclining his head toward the stairs that led down to the ground floor entrance.
Jo hastened down the stairs and opened the door, stepping out onto Coventry Street. Shefford closed the door and then offered her his arm.
She stared at it, not sure what to do. To be seen walking arm in arm down the street with the Earl of Shefford would be to invite all manner of speculation, curiosity, and…judgment.
