The hack delivered Rowles back to where his carriage was waiting. In the interest of propriety, Morgan and Joan took the hack to their home, rather than have Joan accompany him back to his mother’s rooms. With a promise to send word, he said goodbye to the two siblings and gave his driver instructions to return to his mother’s home. As he sank into the carriage seat, his body slowly relaxed its tension. There was so much information to digest, to process, and he wasn’t sure where to begin.

Joan was uncommon, that much he’d known from the start, but her revelation of earlier was far more than an uncommon beauty and spirit. She worked for the bloody War Office as a consultant of sorts because she could differentiate between true missives and forgeries. Of all the astounding things. Had someone told him, he’d never have believed it, yet when it was so apparently true that even the War Office of England trusted her judgment on such matters, how could he do anything but trust her?

He’d be lying to himself if he said there hadn’t been a sharp pain of suspicion trickling into his heart after hearing her confession. His mother’s condition had rendered him suspicious and fearful of the unknown. However, he had come to the conclusion that he could trust Joan’s confession, because he trusted her. And that was enough.

She had told him all her secrets, knowing he could take them poorly or even cast her off. Her bravery humbled him, inspired him, and truly captivated him even more. However, what didn’t sit right was the fact that he had a secret he was keeping from her.

Morgan had told him in confidence, giving him the choice to tell or keep silent concerning Joan’s parentage. He had decided to tell her, but in light of today’s events, it seemed like too much for one day.

Too much truth.

Too much uncovered.

Maybe he would wait till tomorrow.

It had been a taxing afternoon, with the rescue mission for Morgan that was far less eventful than it could have been, but that didn’t dismiss the danger Joan had taken on. Rowles shook his head as he considered how she’d taken matters into her own hands.

Which reminded him: what exactly did she retrieve? He forgot to ask, but certainly it was something of note. And how in the world did she know it was there?

Marriage to Joan would certainly not be dull.

No, indeed, marriage would be one big adventure after another. Tomorrow he’d go to Doctor’s Commons and procure the license, and likely she and Morgan were already making arrangements for a wedding. It was almost too wonderful to bear—having her choose him, and without delay. Her words had echoed his own sentiments, but he wouldn’t pressure her. No, it was on her terms.