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Rowles was waiting in the blue salon, reading a book but seeing nothing of the words, listening for the return of Morgan and Joan. He’d arrived a quarter hour ago, based on the information that Morgan had sent concerning the time, but upon his arrival, the siblings still hadn’t come home.
So he waited.
And each moment stretched on to the next, torturing him. Was Joan safe? Did they need help? And good Lord, he should have asked where they would be in case he did need to assist.
“And that, dear sister, is a very relaxed gentleman,” Morgan said as he entered the room, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Could you be wound any tighter, Rowles?”
Rowles narrowed his eyes at his friend, but the relief was too overwhelming for him to muster any other sort of reaction to Morgan’s teasing words. He looked for Joan, and the moment he saw her, his heart skipped and then resumed its regular cadence.
She was well.
“I think I may have worried a few years of my life away,” Rowles said as he stood to greet her.
“My brother should have given you more information. Then you wouldn’t have worried so.” She glared at her brother, but there was something comforting about her tone and her look.
“Am I allowed to ask how things went? Or am I not privy to such information?” Rowles asked, his body slowly unwinding from the earlier tension.
Joan turned to her brother, allowing him to answer the query.
“It was an interrogation of sorts, but the arrested man wasn’t a threat. I suspect he was arrested for protection.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Joan gasped. “It makes so much more sense, if—” She paused and closed her mouth as if preventing herself from saying too much.
Rowles sighed, reminding himself that this would likely be the first of many more such conversations they’d have.
Morgan nodded. “Exactly. I’ll explore the concept more tomorrow.”
Rowles looked back and forth between the two siblings, then reached out a hand toward Joan. Immediately, she relaxed her rigid posture and moved forward to hold on to him. He pulled her in for a hug, earning a disapproving glare from her brother, but nothing more.
His body relaxed at touching her, finding home and heaven at the same time. “I’m much better now, and I will try not to be as tense in the future,” he told her.
“Truly, I don’t do this sort of thing often. So there will not be much need for you to be concerned,” Joan said against his chest, holding him tightly as if she needed his touch as much as he needed hers.
Rowles kissed her head and slowly released her. “Now, tell me what I can know.”
Joan and Morgan dove into the conversation, and before they had finished, dinner was announced. Rowles listened, amazed with all the information they had gleaned and its possible meanings.
Once again, he was thankful for his chosen profession. Books and students were far more appealing than criminals and espionage, in his humble opinion. But he couldn’t deny the delight and fascination he found in watching Joan’s animated conversation with her brother on those subjects. She thrived, her captivating mind doing acrobatics around ideas and scenarios and possible motives in ways that had him nearly dizzy, yet harboring deep respect for how her mind worked. It truly was a gift, one she used to bless others, to bring justice to their country, and did so without any recognition or accolade.
“We’re utterly monopolizing the conversation. My apologies,” Morgan stated after a moment, directing his words to Rowles.
“I’m entertained, listening to the two of you. It makes me content with my profession, I must say,” Rowles replied, giving voice to the thoughts he’d had only moments before.
“Speaking of which, are you thinking of going back to Cambridge anytime soon?”
Rowles looked to Joan. “Actually, quite soon. I’ve decided that it will be a delightful place to visit.”
Morgan choked on the sip of wine he’d taken.
Joan shot him a glare and then turned a gloriously happy expression to Rowles. “Truly? I… Yes, I’ve never been to Cambridge. I had to think about it for a moment. Will you show me the college? I’ve heard so much about it, especially when Morgan was attending with you and the Duke of Wesley,” she said excitedly.
“That is one of the main reasons I thought it would be a good place to spend some time.” Rowles didn’t disclose the other aspects, that it would be an easy place to stay sequestered in one room or another, enjoying the newfound pleasures of marriage. But judging by the quick arch of a brow from Morgan, he had deduced those aspects as clearly as if they had been spoken.
“Lovely, I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” Rowles answered honestly, earning a quick flaming blush from Joan and an eye roll from Morgan.
“And on that note, I think we’ll adjourn to the parlor. Whist, anyone?”
