“To the country or becoming a father?” Roman asked.
“Both, but especially the latter.” Sheff chuckled. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s what everyone says—'what the hell has happened to you?’”
Roman smiled. “Yes, it was some version of that. But I’m glad to see you so happy. You’re completely gone for your wife and the baby you’re expecting, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Sheff confirmed with pride. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
A surprising sense of longing swept through Roman briefly. First, he’d envied Margot falling in love, and now he was thrown by Sheff’s unadulterated joy. He shouldn’t be moved by their romantic happiness, not when he’d sworn not to risk love again. “This is an astounding change from the young rogue with whom I caused havoc after Oxford.”
Whilst Roman’s behavior had been less than exemplary, Sheff and Banemore had been the worst of their set. To see Sheff now, besotted and eager to be a father, was proof that people could change—or perhaps that one should be open to the unexpected. “If you’re so eager to be in the country, why not leave now? Is there anything keeping you here?”
Sheff lifted his shoulder. “There’s some family strife at the moment. Jo and Min don’t want to leave London right now. It’s to do with my sister’s former companion.” He waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter. None of that is of interest to you.”
“I’m sorry to hear there’s difficulty. I hope it will be resolved soon.”
“I don’t know if that can happen. It’s just an unpleasant time. That sounds incredibly cryptic,” Sheff said with a laugh.
“It’s quite all right,” Roman said. “You don’t need to explain. You’ve had a great deal of excitement this year with your marrying, and your sister was recently wed. I imagine your parents are thrilled.”
“My father is,” Sheff replied with a smirk. “Our mother is horribly disappointed that we both married beneath our rank. That we are madly in love and happy is of no consequence.”
Though Sheff spoke rather lightly, Roman heard the underlying anger he held toward his mother. “I can appreciate having a difficult parent,” Roman said in commiseration. He briefly wondered what was worse—having a parent you didn’t like, and perhaps didn’t like you, or having none at all.
Just then, Roman saw Ellis come back into the common room. Her gaze immediately found him but then moved to Sheff. She abruptly angled herself away and put her head down, skirting the edge of the room toward the vestibule. It was clear to Roman that she’d had a reaction to seeing Sheff.
Roman jumped up from his chair. “Forgive me, Sheff. I must be on my way. Sorry I can’t keep you company.”
“It’s all right, I’m here to pick up my wife.” Sheff gestured with his head toward the archway where Ellis had gone and recently returned. “She’s upstairs visiting with her mother.”
Was she?
Ellis was acquainted with Lady Shefford, and Lady Shefford was here. Furthermore, Ellis had perhaps gone upstairs for whatever business she had here this evening. Was she simply speaking with the countess about the literary events Inman would oversee at the library? If so, why wouldn’t she tell Roman the reason for her visit tonight? There was no reason for her to hide that from him.
Roman bid Sheff good evening then hastened to join Ellis in the vestibule. She was already stepping outside. As Roman caught up with her on the pavement, he looked down the street and saw his coach. He waved his hand at the coachman.
“Are you all right?” Roman asked.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine. She sounded tense, and her shoulders were hunched up.
“Did you recognize the man I was speaking with?” Roman asked casually as the coach pulled toward them.
She glanced at him. “No.”
Though he was still coming to know her well, Roman didn’t think she was telling the truth. He recalled what Sheff had said about there being trouble in his family to do with his sister’s former companion.
Former companion.
Before Roman had agreed to marry Clarissa, he’d been hunting for an heiress. He’d considered making a play for Lady Minerva and her sizable dowry but decided he didn’t want a marriage of convenience with his friend’s sister. Still, he’d danced with her a time or two at a ball, and he recalled that she’d had a companion.
Roman summoned whatever memories he could find of the elusive figure and remembered the woman was tall and blonde. He didn’t think they’d ever spoken, but her name suddenly leapt into his mind: Miss Dangerfield. She’d lived in the Henlow household since childhood, if he was remembering correctly, and for several years, there were rumors that she was actually the duke’s by-blow.
What had happened to the companion now that Lady Minerva was married? Was that why she was a former companion? He couldn’t imagine Lady Minerva, who he’d found to be charming and kind, would simply turn her out. But what was the strife then?
Roman looked at Ellis.
The coach stopped, and the coachman jumped down to open the door. Ellis waited for Roman to move into the coach and glanced back at the door to the club nervously. He could see that she was eager to be away from the club.
“Go ahead,” he said, ushering her into the coach ahead of him.
