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
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Seasons do tend to shift, don’t they? And I must say, this past season had more than its share of difficulties, but it also had its greatest blessing.”
“Oh? And what is that?” Joan asked, tugging his hand toward the door.
“I’m talking about you,” Rowles answered, chuckling as he caught up with her and opened the door leading to the hall.
“Yes, but I delight in hearing you say it over and over,” she whispered as they walked back through the chapel doors, into the courtyard, and to the Great Gate leading to St. Andrew’s Street.
“And where are you taking me now?” he asked, fully knowing the answer.
“You know very well where I’m taking you,” she teased, biting her lip in the way that he loved.
“I do know, but I love hearing you say it over and over again,” he said, casting her earlier words back to her.
“You have some promises to keep, Your Grace. I’m only making sure you honor them.”
Rowles helped her into the carriage, deciding that the ride back home was far too long to wait, but also enjoying the heady anticipation. “Is that so? Are you afraid I’ll go back on my word?” he asked, nibbling at her lip as the carriage moved forward toward home.
“No, simply impatient for you to begin,” Joan mumbled against his hungry lips. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he said, then leaned back. “I started loving you the moment you told me I wasn’t like my mother. And I loved you more when you captivated my mind with your sparkling debate.” He paused and shook his head. “Joan of Arc saved a nation. Joan Morgan, you’ve saved me,” he whispered.
Joan regarded him tenderly and pulled him into a kiss that said far more than words ever could.
In the end, three things remain.
Faith, hope, and love.
But the greatest of these, by far, is love.
Author’s Note
The Regency era was a time of sparkling social events and glamour, but there was also a darker side. In this story, I address the societal norms that are challenged by a noblewoman with dementia. Unfortunately, the care for someone in that era with that illness was entirely dependent on the fortune and family of the one affected. In this case, the duke’s mother was the one with the malady, and with care and great historical research, I navigated the path of what this sort of illness could look like in this time. I also wished to portray what love for a family member suffering with dementia can look and feel like.