“And a good one it is. However, I wish you would support it from afar. It’s unfashionable and frowned upon for a lady of the ton to participate in bluestocking endeavors.”

“As you’ve said. On multiple occasions. I suppose I’m a bit unique… Oh wait.” She gave a wry expression. “We already knew that, didn’t we? I cannot change my spots, Morgan. Besides, knowing what you know about me and my insight, doesn’t that indicate the importance of such an effort? That I see its soul-deep merit for others should encourage you to support women’s rights.”

“I do, but I am concerned about you. And of the two priorities, you are my first.” Morgan nodded, then stood as well. “Be cautious, and don’t take the family carriage.”

“I’ve already hired a hack and Mrs. Gunthrie’s sister is my chaperone.”

Morgan nodded. “Well, then you are all situated. Be safe.”

“I will.” Joan hitched a shoulder with a cheeky smirk. “And I’ll be back in plenty of time to hear all the sonnets the gentlemen have worked to write since the ball last eve.”

“At that, I’ll take my leave.” Morgan chuckled. “Goodbye.”

Joan watched her brother leave the study and sighed. The plate was heavy in her hand even though it held little. Perhaps it was her mind that was heavy. She wasn’t dishonest about the women’s rights convocation, but she knew that Morgan was correct; it was a difficult path ahead. But difficult did not mean impossible. How often were the right things the very ones that required a fight to be achieved? Usually, so Joan chose to fight for those causes.

The hall clock chimed, and she straightened her spine and nodded to herself. Never let it be said she backed down from a worthy challenge. Rather, let her be the one to rise to meet it!

After all, what good was it to be named after someone significant if you didn’t do your best to honor the legacy that person left? Joan strode to the breakfast hall and considered the idea. She might not be working to free France like Joan of Arc, but working to expand women’s freedom? That was certainly a worthy cause.

And one worth all her effort.

Five

It was fascinating how four words could have so much power.

Rowles watched the steam curl upward from his teacup, disappearing into the air as he thought over the previous night. It had been a crushing success, the come-out for Lady Joan, but all of the evening faded into the background at the memory of her simple words.

“You’re not like her.”

Dear Lord, he’d felt infirm, had feared it for so much of his life he couldn’t remember anything prior, but to have someone speak that fear out loud and renounce it so confidently… Well, it nearly made him believe it as the truth.