She opened one eye, then the other, and read the rest.

A duke was baptized in the Serpentine. A lady was the cause, and I dare say, either the water caused a chill to keep the duke from attending the Rathbone ball or it was Lady J who abruptly caught the chill due to the lack of attention from the once-friendly duke.

Joan crumpled up the paper, no longer caring about ink stains. Growling low in her throat, she went into her room and hurled the offensive ball of nonsense against the wall in a fit of temper. The bit of gossip wasn’t anything that she hadn’t thought herself. But having someone else say it, notice it—well, that was an entirely different thing. And much more painful.

Maybe Morgan was right.

She flopped onto the bed in a most unladylike manner and blew out an exasperated breath. Maybe she was trying for something that wasn’t meant to be, forcing it, really. And maybe that was why it hurt. Because it wasn’t meant to happen, like a square block trying to fit through a round hole.

Shouldn’t love be easier?

Love should be sacrificing, true, noble, and pure…but surely it was also simple.

This felt anything but simple. Perhaps that was her answer. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to gather herself, then stood. She wouldn’t spend any more effort on this pointless attachment. She had a purpose, she had plans, and she wasn’t going to let them be hindered by herself.

So she rang for her maid and changed into a blue muslin day dress with a pelisse. An hour before she was to depart, Miss Bronson was shown into the parlor.

“I was so thankful to receive your kind letter! To think, you heard back so soon and we will be able to be of true assistance. It’s delightful!” Miss Bronson said after greeting Joan.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“I brought along Betsey. She’s to chaperone me. I’m sure Miss Vanderhaul is most proper, but my father didn’t wish for me to take any risks with my reputation.” Miss Bronson waved to the plump maid in the corner, who offered a curtsy as she was mentioned.

“Of course. I’ll be bringing along Mary as well, until we know what exactly is expected of us at the hospital.” Joan walked to the bell and rang for a maid.

“One can never be too cautious.” Miss Bronson nodded sagely.

“Agreed.”

The maid came in and curtsied.

“Please bring in tea for me and my guest,” Joan told her.

“Of course, my lady.” The maid quickly left to do her bidding, and Joan turned back to her friend. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little better while we wait? Won’t you sit?” Joan motioned to a chair.