"Of course," Adrian said immediately. "Publish under whatever name you choose."
"Actually," Harwick interjected, "there might be an elegant solution. Hyphenation is becoming more common. Whitcombe-Blackburn perhaps? It maintains your professional identity while acknowledging the marriage."
"Eveline Whitcombe-Blackburn." She tested the sound of it. "It's rather a mouthful."
"It's rather perfect," Adrian countered. "Both names, both identities, joined but not subsumed."
"And for social occasions?"
"Whatever you prefer. Duchess of Everleigh when you must, Miss Whitcombe when you're teaching Morrison, Her Grace for others and Mrs. Whitcombe-Blackburn when you're confusing traditionalists." His smile was wicked. "I particularly look forward to the last."
Morrison chose that moment to appear, knocking with his now-characteristic excess of caution.
"Come in, Morrison," Adrian called. "Unless you're planning to knock down the door."
The young man entered, flushing slightly. "I didn't want to interrupt anything... personal."
"Just negotiating the terms of our future marriage," Eveline said, enjoying his expression. "Adrian's agreed to let me maintain all my professional positions and publish under my own name."
"Let you?" Adrian looked affronted. "I'm not 'letting' you do anything. I'm creating structures to ensure no one can stop you."
"Of course that's how it would be," Morrison said earnestly. "Anything else would be a tragedy. Imagine silencing a mind like Miss Whitcombe's for the sake of convention."
"Imagine indeed," Adrian murmured, his eyes on Eveline holding promises of exactly how much he valued her mind...among other attributes.
"Speaking of positions," Morrison continued, apparently oblivious to the charged look, "Mr. Thornbury sent word. He needs to speak with you about the Byzantine project. Something about additional funding?"
"Additional funding?" Eveline straightened. "He mentioned the board had approved the initial proposal."
"I believe there have been developments. He seemed quite excited." Morrison pulled out a note. "He asks if you could call at the museum at your earliest convenience."
"I could go now," Eveline said, already reaching for her portfolio.
"We're not quite finished here," Adrian reminded her. "The contracts..."
"Can be refined based on our discussion. Harwick has the essentials, haven't you?"
"Indeed," the solicitor confirmed. "I'll draft a clean copy for your review, Miss Whitcombe. Though I must say, these are the most interesting marriage contracts I've ever prepared."
"I should come with you," Adrian said as Eveline gathered her things. "To the museum."
"Because you're suddenly interested in Byzantine manuscripts?"
"Because I'm interested in everything that interests you." He rose, catching her hand. "Also because I want to be there for whatever Thornbury's news might be."
They left Morrison and Harwick to their respective tasks, taking Adrian's carriage through London's busy streets. Eveline found herself fidgeting with hergloves, nervous energy making stillness impossible.
"What's troubling you?" Adrian asked, because of course he'd noticed.
"What if Thornbury's news is bad? What if the board has reconsidered, decided a woman consultant is too controversial?"
"Then we'll find other venues for your work. But Eveline, why would you immediately assume the worst?"
"Experience?" she suggested wryly. "Good things in my life tend to come with complications."
"Like me?"
"You're not a complication," she said, then amended, "Well, you are, but the best kind. The kind that makes everything else worthwhile."
