Page 63 of As the Earl Likes
Jo hesitated to respond because she didn’t know what to say. But the duchess wasn’t finished.
“Furthermore, when you do attend events, apparently you haven’t the slightest inkling how to behave properly. You insulted Lady Balliol at that rout the other night. And you actually drew your soon-to-be father-in-law into the matter! I can’t believe even you would be so crude.”
Even her. So crude. As if some crudeness were to be expected from her.
Jo didn’t recall mentioning the duke at all. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean about His Grace. He was not discussed.”
“Not by name, apparently, but you indicated that one’s position was not representative of good behavior.” She narrowed her eyes at Jo, and her anger was palpable. “What else would you have meant besides my husband, who behaves as if he has no decorum whatsoever?”
It was difficult for Jo not to become upset in the face of this woman’s ire. “That is not what I was trying to say. Lady Balliol—I didn’t even know who she was—gave me the cut direct and was very rude.” Jo felt herself growing more agitated. “Should I not stand up for myself? When I am the Countess of Shefford, I don’t think I should tolerate such discourtesy, do you?”
“You should never be the Countess of Shefford!” the duchess ground out, her lip curling. “You are no one from nothing. Worse than that, your parents are the worst sort of people. Your mother is in trade, and a ghastly one at that, and your father’s pathetic attempts to gain a foothold in Society are pitiable.”
Jo gaped at the duchess. Fury surged through her. It was one thing to insult her, but to denigrate her parents? She opened her mouth to speak, but Sheff stepped between them.
“Mother, you cannot speak to my betrothed like that,” he bit out. Though his back was to her, Jo could imagine the storm in his eyes as he practically growled at the duchess.
“Come, Mama, let’s find you a glass of wine.” Min was there too.
Jo then saw Ellis standing off to the side. She’d fetched Sheff and Min to help. Jo wanted to hug her. But she couldn’t. She was still shaking with anger from what the duchess had said.
“Go, Mother,” Sheff demanded. “Before I say something I will regret as you have already done. I will expect a complete and detailed apology—in writing—to Jo tomorrow. You will show it to me first so I can determine if it is acceptable.”
He was blocking Jo’s view of the duchess, which was disappointing. Jo imagined her jaw dropping and her eyes goggling. She also never expected to receive an apology of any kind. What she most wanted was to understand why the duchess hated her so much. It seemed to go beyond simply not approving of her. But perhaps that was all it was.
“You must rethink this betrothal,” the duchess said. “You can’t marry a woman who works at a gaming hell. You just can’t.”
“She won’t work there forever, Mother. Not when we are wed. You’re going to have to become accustomed to having Jo in our family.”
The duchess made a strangled sound in her throat. Then she marched away.
Min sent Jo an apologetic look and turned to follow her mother. Ellis joined her, leaving Jo to stare at Sheff’s back.
But then he turned, and she saw the concern in his dark blue eyes.
“Jo,” he whispered, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. His glove was soft against her flesh. He muttered a curse, then whipped the offending accessory off and pressed his bare palm to her face. “I’m so sorry for the things my mother said.”
“You can’t be sorry for that,” Jo said quietly. “And I don’t think she will be. She doesn’t need to write me an apology. I don’t want it.”
“Dammit.” He breathed the word, his eyes shuttering briefly. When he opened them, they fixed on her with a ferocity that made her breath catch. “I will make sure you are never alone with her again. No, I should halt this entire ill-plotted scheme.” He nodded. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell her we aren’t marrying.”
Jo clutched his arm—the one that was still at his side. “No. After what she said, I’m tempted to make you marry me. You can’t let her win, and she’ll see that as a victory, especially after what she said tonight and the fact that you witnessed it.”
“You make a good argument—for actual marriage,” he said wryly, his hand moving from her face to her collarbone. “But how can I ask you to continue with this ruse after the way she treated you? I can’t expect you to put up with that.”
“I won’t. I held my own with her.” Right up to the part when she’d denigrated Jo’s parents. Jo had still been formulating her response when Sheff had arrived. “How much did you hear?”
“I heard you saying you didn’t have to tolerate discourtesy.” His lips spread in a heart-stopping grin. “That was brilliant. Then I heard what she said about your parents,” he added soberly. “What did I miss?”
“Just her telling me I had to stop working at the Siren’s Call. And she took me to task for insulting Lady Balliol the other night at the rout. Apparently, it’s fine for Lady Balliol to cut me, but when I take offense and address her rudeness, I am in the wrong.” Jo rolled her eyes.
“When did that happen?” he asked, his brows dipping.
“When I went to the retiring room.”
He searched her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She lifted a shoulder—the one he wasn’t touching. “You were already upset about those other women.”
