Joan and Morgan dove into the conversation, and before they had finished, dinner was announced. Rowles listened, amazed with all the information they had gleaned and its possible meanings.

Once again, he was thankful for his chosen profession. Books and students were far more appealing than criminals and espionage, in his humble opinion. But he couldn’t deny the delight and fascination he found in watching Joan’s animated conversation with her brother on those subjects. She thrived, her captivating mind doing acrobatics around ideas and scenarios and possible motives in ways that had him nearly dizzy, yet harboring deep respect for how her mind worked. It truly was a gift, one she used to bless others, to bring justice to their country, and did so without any recognition or accolade.

“We’re utterly monopolizing the conversation. My apologies,” Morgan stated after a moment, directing his words to Rowles.

“I’m entertained, listening to the two of you. It makes me content with my profession, I must say,” Rowles replied, giving voice to the thoughts he’d had only moments before.

“Speaking of which, are you thinking of going back to Cambridge anytime soon?”

Rowles looked to Joan. “Actually, quite soon. I’ve decided that it will be a delightful place to visit.”

Morgan choked on the sip of wine he’d taken.

Joan shot him a glare and then turned a gloriously happy expression to Rowles. “Truly? I… Yes, I’ve never been to Cambridge. I had to think about it for a moment. Will you show me the college? I’ve heard so much about it, especially when Morgan was attending with you and the Duke of Wesley,” she said excitedly.

“That is one of the main reasons I thought it would be a good place to spend some time.” Rowles didn’t disclose the other aspects, that it would be an easy place to stay sequestered in one room or another, enjoying the newfound pleasures of marriage. But judging by the quick arch of a brow from Morgan, he had deduced those aspects as clearly as if they had been spoken.

“Lovely, I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Rowles answered honestly, earning a quick flaming blush from Joan and an eye roll from Morgan.

“And on that note, I think we’ll adjourn to the parlor. Whist, anyone?”

Rowles nodded, earning no little satisfaction from Morgan’s reaction. He only delighted in the hope that one day the tables would be turned and Morgan would find someone who made him throw caution to the wind.

Love had a way of making even the most stoic-hearted soft. And Morgan might be love’s greatest challenge yet.