Chapters (46)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Back Cover
Rather than trust her judgment.
In his efforts to be self-sacrificing, he’d overstepped and sacrificed that which wasn’t his: a choice.
He’d wanted to say so much to her, but words failed him. So instead he’d acted. He had whispered her name, a prayer and litany on his lips. When she had refused to turn, he’d stepped closer, careful and cautious—making sure he wouldn’t put her in a compromising position and thus take away another choice. Carefully, and so softly it was hardly a touch at all, he’d reached out and traced a light finger up her gloved hand to her elbow, his body catching fire at the innocent touch.
She’d turned, and in a moment, he was sure she’d read his soul—only to have the carriage arrive. And if the eyes were indeed a window to the soul, he was certain hers went from affection to anger in a flash.
Affection for him.
Anger for her brother.
Because in Rowles’s unguarded moment, he’d shifted his attention to Morgan as well and nodded his understanding. Because he shouldn’t be so close, and he shouldn’t be following her; but Joan saw. And worse, Joan understood, if that fire in her eyes was an indication.
And so, reason number two for staying in London was to be around for Morgan’s sake. He’d likely gotten a tongue-lashing he’d not soon forget, and it was all Rowles’s fault.
He was not one to run from responsibility. The proof of that was in his mother’s situation.
Rowles half expected to see Morgan that day, and he was fully prepared to defend himself and ask for permission to court Joan—but Morgan didn’t come to call.
It was growing closer to evening when Rowles faced a decision: participate in the social calendar and hope to see Joan, or try to honor Morgan’s initial request.
After a moment of debate, he called for his valet to prepare his evening kit. Lady Garrison was having a birthday fete, and it was sure to be well attended. With the decision made, Rowles couldn’t restrain the lighthearted feeling in his chest. The gray clouds that seemed to constrict his soul had lifted, making way for sunshine and warmth.
Certainly, that indicated he’d made the right choice, did it not?