Chapters (46)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Back Cover
“There’s…there’s no one else with that title, is there?” Joan asked, curious and concerned at the same time. If someone was masquerading as her brother, heaven only knew what else they would do, and how it could affect Morgan.
“The title is my own, but it could be someone’s surname. It’s possible—not likely, but possible. I need to inform the War Office and see if they have any information that could add clarity. For all we know, there could be another Penderdale who works for king and country.”
“I hope it’s the latter, rather than someone using your name. Heaven only knows how that could end up badly.”
“It’s my title, not name, so I’d worry less.” He reached over and patted Joan’s hand. “Thank you for your assistance.”
Joan sighed. “I don’t feel like I was much assistance. He was a pretty simple person to read. You could have probably figured out what his body language meant without my help.”
“It’s always good to have two perspectives.”
“True.”
Morgan paused, his fingers fiddling with his hat as he sighed. “I want you to know I sent a missive to Rowles this morning regarding this meeting.”
Joan tipped her head, waiting for him to continue. That he told Rowles wasn’t all that surprising. “And?”
“And I thought you’d like to know how your betrothed replied.” He lifted his attention from his hat to her face. “It was four words, and I thought they carried a bit of weight. He said, ‘Do what you must.’”
Joan’s lips spread into a grateful smile, and she gave her head a slight shake. How blessed was she? Not only to find a worthy husband who loved her, but to find one that understood her need to contribute. Four words, but they spoke volumes. They spoke of his trust in her, his respect for her work, and his faith in letting her be herself.
“That is utterly romantic.” Joan sighed delightedly.
Morgan frowned. “Well, I suppose it can be thought of that way. I was only thankful he isn’t a closet tyrant. I didn’t expect him to be, but it pleases me that he values your experience and skill.”
“Like I said, romantic.”
Morgan huffed a laugh. “I do not think I’ll ever understand women.”
“That is a very likely truth.” Joan chuckled.
“If I haven’t said it yet, I’m happy for you, Joan. You and Rowles. I couldn’t part with you for anyone less.” He reached across the carriage and patted her hand.
“I love you too,” Joan replied as she squeezed his hand.