AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Except that it was withholding the truth,” Joan answered, but without heat or a bitter edge. “I understand why, but that doesn’t mean I can agree with it.” She released a silent sigh, her shoulders caving slightly as if the knowledge was a real weight upon her shoulders.
Rowles’s mind grasped for something comforting to say but came up empty. So instead he squeezed her hand within his, continuing to rub her palm with his thumb. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.
“Is there any information about my birth?” she asked after a moment, her attention lingering on their intertwined hands.
Rowles shrugged. “Not much. Your parents had most of it destroyed, from what Morgan has told me. They didn’t want any of it traced back to you.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
“Morgan went searching for information back at your home. That’s what we were discussing earlier in the library.”
Joan’s eyes flashed up to him. “Did he find anything?”
Rowles shook his head. “No, not much at least. He wondered, first of all, if I was indeed going to tell you about it. I told him my instinct was to tell you, and from there he said he’d found a blanket. It had been left with you at the church. There’s a lamb embroidered on the corner.”
Joan sighed. “I’d like to see it.”
“I’m sure Morgan will show you. And I’m also sure you will have questions for him. I’m sorry he won’t have many answers for you.”
Joan bit her lip. “Odd how questions seem to multiply. I have about a million.” She hitched a shoulder and took a deep breath. “I suppose it will take time for me to fully grasp this.”
“That’s understandable. But, Joan…” Rowles lifted a hand and tipped her chin so that they were eye to eye. “I meant what I said earlier. While your parentage is most certainly a part of you, it matters not to me that you’re not a Morgan by blood, or that your parentage is somewhat unknown. You…youare who I love. Not your bloodlines.” He spoke the words like a vow, praying she understood the truth in them.
Her eyes held his for a moment. Then she smiled, softly and gently, warming his soul with her acceptance of his words. “Yet another reason I love you.”
The housekeeper bustled into the room, the sound of lightly clanking china punctuating her steps as she set the tea tray on the nearby circular table. “Ah, here we go. I waited an extra few minutes so that you’d have the warm biscuits directly from the oven.” She arranged a plate and saucer.
“Thank you, they smell divine,” Joan replied. “How would you like your tea… Wait. I remember.” She turned to the tea service.
“Cream and sugar, and at least three biscuits,” Rowles answered anyway and thought about how they would often sit and take tea with each other, the simple domestic bliss of it all seeming underrated.
Joan served him and then herself. When she bit into one of Cook’s biscuits, Rowles watched her surreptitiously, waiting for her reaction. She didn’t disappoint. Her eyes closed and her lips tipped upward as her other hand reached up to catch a crumb from the delightfully crisp confection.
“Oh my, I may marry you for the biscuits,” she teased.
Rowles chuckled. “By whatever means necessary. I’m certainly not above bribing you with biscuits.”
“I shouldn’t be so easily bought, but biscuits are indeed a weakness.” She sipped her tea.
His heart swelled with pride and love for her. She’d been given a startling truth, and yet her perspective was still joyful. She’d have questions, and likely as soon as tea was finished, she’d want to return home to talk to her brother. He’d offer to go with her, but she’d want to do it on her own.
She was quite independent, his Joan.
And he loved her for it.
Like her namesake, she was a warrior at heart.
Thirty-four
Joan was torn between wanting to see the rest of Westmore House and spend time with Rowles, and going home and pelting her brother with questions. In the end, she chose the latter, and Rowles offered to take her in his curricle, with the promise to return later that afternoon, should she feel up to a stroll in the park.
She was quite certain she would delight in a stroll; however, she had been quite certain of a lot of things that morning and those had changed dramatically.
“I understand,” Rowles said as she conveyed her tumultuous thoughts. “I’m here whenever you need me. Just send word.” He helped her from the curricle and kissed her hand.
She could feel his stare on her back as she took the stairs to her home. Turning to give one final wave, she wondered how any other man would have reacted, had they found out about her questionable parentage. Would they have still loved her? Wanted her? Or would they have cried off?
Rowles returned her wave, a solid pillar of honesty. She gave him a brave nod and turned back to the door. Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the house.
