Joan frowned. “How would one define either? What decides the line between kindness and it moving into something less of a virtue?”

“Excellent question. What is a virtue? And can those be in excess?”

“Virtues are purity of action and thought, selfless in nature.”

The duke spoke with warmth. “So eloquent. Indeed. But can they be, in their pure form, excessively used to the point where they are no longer good? Say, forgiveness. Can you forgive too much?”

“According to the Bible, no.”

He nodded.

“But it also depends on how you define forgiveness.”

“Well, I’d argue that one is forgiveness, and one is counterfeit.”

“It is too bloody early in the morning to be discussing the finer points of theology.” Morgan’s voice broke through Joan’s thoughts, startling her.

She gave a jump and leaned back, smoothing her skirts. “Maybe for you,” she replied.

The duke stood abruptly and set his tea service to the side. Joan’s scrutiny shot from her brother to the duke and back. It would have been comical if not for the tension pulling the room into a tight knot. Morgan had the opposite eye sporting that same shade of purple, only his lip was split as well, and he took a seat with some tender care, as if his abdomen were sensitive.

“Sit down.” He waved a hand toward the duke. “I’m not in the mood to wax romantic over apologies. We’re both idiots, and I started it, so…” Again, he waved off his friend.

The duke sat back down, but kept a watchful eye on Morgan. “I apologize.”

“We were both quite drunk,” Morgan added.

Joan gave an irritated snort. “Drunk? Really, Morgan?” She couldn’t exactly chide the duke, but her brother? That was a different story.

“I’ll take your tongue-lashing later, dear sister. And I’ll take it without complaint as long as you let me suffer in misery for the moment.”

“Headache?” Joan asked, remembering the aftereffects of her brother’s drinking from an earlier escapade.

“Severe,” was his only reply.

The duke relaxed, and Joan noted the way the room seemed to shift back to normal, the tension unwinding like yarn from a ball.

Joan giggled softly and then turned to the duke. “Speaking of virtues…” she said with a laugh.

“A well-placed verbal spar. I concede defeat on that point. But you must admit, my challenge goes unopposed.”

Joan narrowed her eyes playfully. “Very well, I will concede that one cannot make a statement about excess being universally malignant.”

“You made a very convincing argument,” the duke said.