“I forgot my tea.” Joan rose again.

“You don’t need it,” Morgan replied and sat across from her in the smallish seating area near the fire. “Joan, we’ve discussed this. In social settings, you mustn’t let on that you—”

“I’m mindful. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why must you be so sensitive—”

“Because I know how people work, think, and react.” Lines formed along his forehead. “And I don’t want you to be on the receiving end of their speculation or ire,” he finished.

When he put it in such a protective way, Joan struggled to find her righteous anger against him. Drat the man.

She sighed softly. “It was your friend, someone whom I know you trust. I didn’t say or do anything that would give way to speculation, and even if I did, don’t you have faith in your friend not to use it against you…or me?”

Morgan studied her, then looked down to his hands, folding them and then unfolding them. “So you said nothing to him?”

Joan glanced to the side.

“Damn it. What did you say?” Morgan asked, his sharp words echoing in the room, even with the quiet way he had spoken them.

“I tried not to.”

“Oh, it’s bad, isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, then stood from his seat and began pacing.

“No. Stop fussing. You’re worse than a mother hen.”

He gave her quite a sarcastic expression as a response, but halted his pacing.

“I was curious,” she said, defending herself.

“Which killed the cat, you know.” Morgan began pacing once more.

“Meow,” she replied smartly and continued, “I hedged a bit.”

“Which only whetted his curiosity.” He snorted.

“Probably.”

“And you said?”

“Well, I could see this sort of aura.” She hedged.

“I regret giving you books on Greek etymology,” Morgan replied and set his head in his hands as he sighed. “You’re not answering the question, and I know damn well you saw no aura. You’re far too fond of your facts and science.”

“There’s a severe deficiency in women’s education. You know this. You were giving me the freedom to study that which interested me and expanded my mind.”

“Which I’m utterly reaping the benefits of currently.”

“It was never for your benefit, Morgan.”

He made an impatient movement with his left hand. “Carry on.”

“It was in the way he carried himself, confident, yet expectant and…almost bracing himself for some attack.” She lifted one delicate brow in query. “The battlefield is within one’s mind. That was exactly what I saw in him. Sometimes you need something…someone…to point you in the right direction. So…I did.”

“By saying?”

“Simply saying what I saw!”

When Morgan didn’t reply, she hazarded a look up to him.

“And what was his response?” he asked quietly.