“It isn’t,” Rowles was quick to answer, and honestly, it wasn’t ominous, it wasn’t bad, it was knowledge. In truth, it changed nothing.

Joan nodded and took her leave, the wary expression never leaving her eyes.

Rowles watched her depart, his mind affirming that it changed nothing, her parentage changed nothing at all.

But while he was convinced he was making the right decision in telling her, just because it was right didn’t mean it was easy. Not at all.

Thirty-two

If I am not, may God place me there; if I am, may God so keep me.

—Joan of Arc

It was a lesson in self-control for Joan as she patiently worked with Mrs. Adams to organize the wedding breakfast, rather than rush through the planning to get to the bottom of whatever was being discussed in the library in her absence. Whatever it was, it truly didn’t change anything…for Rowles. But that made her still wonder if perhaps it changed something for her.

“And we will, of course, serve champagne,” Mrs. Adams added.

“Yes, thank you,” Joan replied with a determined tone. “I think this is going to be perfect. Thank you for all your assistance.”

“It’s my pleasure. The late duchess, God rest her soul, didn’t involve herself with many matters in the house. It’s a delight to have company and set our minds to tasks we haven’t had the pleasure to tend to for years.” Mrs. Adams clapped her hands once. “We will truly make every effort to assist you, my lady.”

“I believe it, and you, Mrs. Adams. Thank you.” Joan gave her a warm, heartfelt smile. How difficult it must have been to attend to a bachelor house with a duchess who needed constant care and watching.

Joan rose and quit the small sitting area beside the kitchens, then took the stairs to the main floor. She approached the library quietly, hoping to eavesdrop on any current conversation. Perhaps she might pick up a clue as to their earlier discussion. But the library was silent, and with a frown, she surveyed the room.

“My lady, the duke is in his study,” a footman explained as he bowed upon entering the library.

“Thank you,” Joan answered, following the footman’s lead down the hall and taking the opportunity to study her environs. The home was lovely, furnished sumptuously but also tastefully, grand yet not so grand it was cold. She approved of all she saw. She tried to imagine herself as the duchess, her heart bursting at the thought. As beautiful as the house was, she truly found the most joy in knowing with whom she would share the home.

Rowles.

As if thinking his name had also voiced it, he looked up the moment she stepped into his study. “Ah, Joan. Thank you.” He nodded to the footman, dismissing him. “Morgan and I are finishing up the signatures needed for the marriage settlement.”