He nearly tripped on his steps as her eyes searched his, and he couldn’t break the spell her gaze wove around him. When she turned away, he released his breath as if he’d been holding it. He thought back to her question.

“I would add to your question to give it further clarity. Is the worth of a woman based on her rights or privileges?”

Joan’s expression furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“You said that our society has constraints on women. This is true. But you didn’t ask about her value. You made the direct correlation that her rights and her value were related. Do you think that the worth of a woman is directly based on what society allows her for latitude in her rights or privileges?”

When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Because a woman’s value doesn’t change based on what she is allowed or not allowed to do. Value should already be ascribed to her, but rights are separate. Not equal.”

Joan nodded slowly. “So are they less important?”

“I’m not sure I fully understand the question,” he countered.

“If they are not equal, which is most important? The value of the woman or her rights?”

His brows knit. “Well, of course the value of the person is more important.”

She nodded. He could feel her posture stiffen as if his words had offended her, or she was expected to be offended.

“So you’re saying that you can restrain a person’s rights and validate that decision because it didn’t affect the intrinsic value of that person? Well, then my question would be, what good is the value of a person if they have no right to live in a manner that expresses it? Then could one truly call it value or is it just a pretty word?” she asked pointedly.

The waltz ended, and with a stiff posture, she stepped from his hold and waited for him to escort her to Morgan. With the music ended and people milling about, it wasn’t a proper time to finish or, rather, continue the conversation, but Rowles instinctively knew he had offended her greatly.

Yet he couldn’t exactly figure out how.

Because everything he had said was true. A woman’s value was God-given, not hindered by the law of a mere man or nation.

But something whispered that maybe, rather than hearing what he’d tried to say, she’d only heard an excuse.

However, he found no opportunity to talk privately with Joan because she avoided him the rest of the evening. And after the ball, as Rowles rode home in his carriage, all he could think about was history repeating itself.

Because tomorrow he’d pay another call to Penderdale House to give an apology, or at least clarification.

Only this time it would be to the other sibling.

He only hoped she would have the good grace to hear him out.