The evening at the ball was lovely, perfect, if one viewed it from the outside. But appearances were often deceiving, so while she danced the cotillion, she appeared cheerful and serene on the outside, but her heart was heavy.

While she sipped orgeat and admired the flowers along the refreshment table, she was reliving the earlier events of the day and berating herself for her blunders.

And while she waltzed with Lord Goodman, she wished another’s arms held her.

It wasn’t till the carriage ride home that Morgan questioned her silence.

“It was a lovely evening, was it not?” he asked, clearly probing for information.

Joan’s contemplation strayed from the window. “It was as expected, yes.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Morgan continued. “I saw you waltzed with Goodman.”

Joan nodded. “He called this afternoon as well.”

“Then I shall check my sources to ensure he is as good a man as his name suggests.”

“If you wish,” Joan replied, uninterested. She twisted her lips and met her brother’s eyes. “Did the duke mention anything that would give you reason to think he was angry with me?”

Morgan sighed. “Joan, this hasn’t anything to do with you.”

“It feels as if it does,” she muttered.

Morgan chuckled. “Why does that not surprise me?” He reached across the carriage and patted her hand. “Leave it be. You have to focus your efforts on a match… You said so yourself at the beginning of the season. I thought we agreed that you’d release this…attachment…to the duke.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

Morgan sighed. “I don’t know what more to say, Joan.”

“Has he truly not said anything about me?”

Morgan shifted his attention to the window. “I don’t know what to tell you. Sometimes things aren’t meant to be, Sister.”

Joan leaned back on the velvet cushion of the carriage and bit her lip. “I understand.”

It wasn’t until they arrived home and she was readying herself for bed that she questioned Morgan’s behavior.

That was twice in one day he wouldn’t look at her when he spoke.

It might be a coincidence.

But it might not be, either.

As she lay in bed that night, she formulated a plan. Morgan knew that if he lied to her, face-to-face, she’d likely see through it. So, she’d have to converse with him where he couldn’t exploit her weakness.

It was a blessing to have family, but it was a curse when they knew how to use her weakness—her willingness to always believe them—against her.

Even when they thought they were doing it in her best interest.

After a fitful night’s sleep and no small effort on her maid’s part to help her not appear as weary, she went to break her fast, intent on finding her brother.

Only to discover he’d already left and wouldn’t return till evening.