The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(16)

Perhaps she ought to be a companion or a governess. That wouldn’t be boring or lonely. And if she were a governess, that could fulfill her desire to have children. The idea latched on to Jo’s brain and took fervent hold. “What if I became a governess?” she blurted.

Nora’s head came up sharply, and she stared at Jo. “Are you in earnest?”

Jo lifted a shoulder. “Why not? I love children, and I shan’t have any of my own.”

“What of marriage? When I asked you about it before, you said you weren’t ready to contemplate that yet. It’s been a year since Matthias died.” Her gaze dipped to Jo’s dove-gray gown. “You’re still not wearing colors.”

That was because Jo despised most of her wardrobe. Matthias had required her to dress in simple, severe, and truthfully ugly clothing. Indeed, she hadn’t needed mourning clothes since most of her wardrobe was incredibly drab.

Deep creases dug through Nora’s brow. “You’re not still… Are you still devoted to Matthias?”

Jo hadn’t shared the depth of the troubles in her marriage with Nora. Before Nora had married Titus, she’d been living an isolated, lonely life in the country. Jo hadn’t wanted to burden her with her travails, not when Jo was at least married and her future was secure—unlike Nora’s. Then Nora had found happiness, and Jo had been too thrilled for her sister to cause any concern. Now… Now she could tell her the truth of things. But Nora would be horrified. And she’d feel sorry for Jo, who didn’t want her pity. Anyway, that part of her life was over. What good would it do to bring it up now?

“I am not still devoted. Or even sad. I suppose I should order some new gowns.”

Nora’s eyes lit. “Lady Satterfield will be ecstatic. She asked me the other day if you would be ready to go to Bond Street soon.”

Jo couldn’t help but laugh. Lady Satterfield’s penchant for shopping was well known. “Tell her yes, and I’d be honored if she’d accompany me.”

“She’ll insist, and really, you don’t want anyone else. Trust me.”

There was no one Jo trusted more. So why wouldn’t she tell her about Matthias? Because it was too humiliating.

Nora studied Jo for a moment. “If you aren’t sad over Matthias any longer, what is prohibiting you from seeking another husband? I should think you would have no trouble. You’re beautiful and intelligent, and there are plenty of gentlemen who prefer a mature woman.”

That sounded positively ancient. Jo arched a brow. “Mature?”

Nora laughed. “You know what I mean. I think it works in your favor.”

“I disagree. I think most men want a young, fresh-faced miss.” Jo looked toward the window, which overlooked the street below. “They especially want someone who can bear children, and you know that I cannot.”

The touch of Nora’s hand on hers drew Jo to turn her head back to her sister. “I’m so very sorry for that. But perhaps you can have children—with someone else.”

“What gentleman would want to risk that?” Jo asked. It was a moot question since Jo was certain she was barren. She’d been married eight years, and it wasn’t as if they hadn’t tried to conceive, especially in the early years. When she’d repeatedly failed to turn up pregnant, Matthias had grown increasingly angry with her and eventually more distant.

“A gentleman who perhaps already has children or who doesn’t want them at all,” Nora said.

Jo didn’t think she’d want a husband who didn’t want children. She thought of Lord Knighton and his devotion to Evie and his desire for more children. That was the kind of husband she wanted. Not him in particular, however, since he planned to enlarge his family. “I suppose a gentleman who already has children and isn’t concerned with having more would be acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” Nora frowned, but her gaze was sympathetic. “It’s all right if you don’t wish to marry again,” she said quietly.

It wasn’t that. “I simply don’t think it’s likely.”

Nora squeezed Jo’s hand as the butler came in and announced the arrival of Lord Knighton.

Nora stood. “Please show him up. I’ll just fetch Evie.” She left, and Jo rose to meet the earl.

A few moments later, he entered, and the sight of him gave her a start. He was an attractive man, though his hair could be judged too long. She liked the length, however. It seemed to fit him, especially since he preferred to lounge about in half-dress. That was why she’d been surprised at his appearance, she realized. In her mind’s eye, she saw him in shirtsleeves. Completely scandalous and wholly alluring.

She tossed the useless thoughts from her brain. “Good afternoon, my lord.” She offered him a curtsey.

He bowed in response. “Mrs. Shaw. I hope my appearance today meets with your satisfaction.”

She nearly laughed at the accurate direction of his thoughts. “You’re jesting, I hope?”

“Can’t you tell?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ve often been told my wit is far too dry.”

She liked wit—dry or not. It was far preferable to cruelty, which was what she’d been accustomed to the past several years. “I’m getting used to it. From now on, I shall err on the side of humor if I’m not certain of your intent.”