"Babble away," Eveline said, charmed by his enthusiasm. "Though I warn you, we're still negotiating terms."
"She's insisting on reviewing the contracts," Adrian added with fond exasperation.
"Of course she is!" Morrison beamed. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Oh, this is marvelous. A true meeting of minds, a partnership based on intellectual equality and mutual respect."
"And the fact that we apparently can't keep our hands off each other," Adrian added dryly.
"That too," Morrison agreed, blushing but undaunted. "May I be the first to offer congratulations? Well, technically the second, since you've congratulated each other, but..."
"Morrison," Eveline interrupted gently. "Thank you. Your support means the world to us both."
The young man practically glowed. "I should go. Leave you to your negotiations. But this is the best news!" He paused at the door. "You know, this could set a precedent. A marriage of equals, where both parties maintain their professional identities... it's revolutionary."
After he left, Eveline looked at Adrian. "Revolutionary. I rather like the sound of that."
"Of course you do." He pulled her close again. "My revolutionary future duchess. Shall we shock society together?"
"Together," she agreed, and sealed the promise with a kiss that suggested their negotiations would be anything but traditional.
Outside, London bustled on, unaware that in a Mayfair library, two peoplewere rewriting the rules of love, work, and partnership. It wouldn't be easy, as nothing worthwhile ever was.
But as Adrian had said, they were both rather good with difficult translations.
And this? This was the most important translation of all. Rendering the language of their hearts into something the world could understand, or at least accept.
The contracts could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, they had a revolution to plan.
Chapter 21
The morning after accepting Adrian's proposal, or rather, agreeing to negotiate terms for a possible future acceptance, Eveline woke with a combination of elation and terror that made her stomach perform acrobatics. She dressed with particular care, choosing her most professional attire as armor for what promised to be an interesting day.
"You're up early," Harriet, who had come early in the morning, observed from the doorway of Eveline's bedchamber, holding two cups of tea. "Guilty conscience or anticipation?"
"How did you...never mind." Eveline accepted the tea gratefully. "You always know everything."
"Morrison sent a note at an ungodly hour, practically vibrating with excitement through the page. 'Most wonderful news' and 'revolutionary partnership' featured prominently." Harriet settled on the bed, studying Eveline with sharp eyes. "So. You're engaged to be betrothed to negotiate a betrothal?"
"Something like that." Eveline sank into her dressing table chair. "Oh, Harriet, what am I doing? Yesterday everything made perfect sense, and now..."
"Now you're remembering all the reasons this is complicated?" Her friend's voice was gentle. "Tell me your fears."
"Where do I start? My work, my independence, my reputation...what's left of it. What if I become just another duchess, my scholarship forgotten in favour of social obligations? What if the contracts aren't enough to protect my interests? What if..."
"What if you're borrowing trouble that may never materialize?" Harriet interrupted. "Eveline, you're marrying Adrian Blackburn, not some traditional peer who expects a decorative wife. The man created an entire position just to recognize your abilities."
"I know, but..."
"But nothing. You love him?"
"Desperately."
"He loves you?"
"He seems to."
"He seems to?" Harriet's eyebrows rose. "The man looks at you like you personally hung all the stars in the sky. He's reshaping his entire life to accommodate your work. That's not 'seems to'...that's complete devotion."
Eveline worried at her lower lip, a habit that emerged when she was thinking hard. "What if love isn't enough? What if the practical complications..."
