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Rowles nodded, earning no little satisfaction from Morgan’s reaction. He only delighted in the hope that one day the tables would be turned and Morgan would find someone who made him throw caution to the wind.
Love had a way of making even the most stoic-hearted soft. And Morgan might be love’s greatest challenge yet.
But as Rowles assisted Joan from her chair and escorted her to the parlor, drinking in the sight of her smile, the beloved weight of her hand on his arm, he knew that what the Apostle Paul had written was utter truth:Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
Thirty-eight
About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know they’re just one thing, and we shouldn’t complicate the matter.
—Joan of Arc
The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny, with a few scattered puffy clouds that promised to disappear before noon. Joan was vibrating with anticipation and excitement. After waiting what seemed like forever—though it had only been a few weeks—finally the day had come.
What had started with giving her heart would now be finalized as she took his name. She’d awoken early to prepare for the ten o’clock wedding and was struggling to remain still while Mary weaved seed pearls into her hair in a lovely design that would perfectly complement her dress.
And oh, her dress.
It was a lovely confection of pale-blue silk with an empire waist and puffy cap sleeves that set off her shoulders. Long, lacy gloves matched the gown, along with blue slippers the exact color of the silk. The modiste had sewed in seed pearls along the hem of the gown and added a satin sash that tied at the back below the row of pearl buttons.
When Mary finished with her hair, another maid was brought in to help her dress for the occasion. After donning her soft new underthings, all lacy and delicate in a way she’d never worn before, she leaned over the chair to allow the maid to tie the corset. Then it was time for the dress. When they helped her step into it, the fabric made the softest whisper as it trailed up her body and sat along her shoulders.
“Oh, my lady, it’s lovely,” Mary whispered.
“Simply lovely,” the second maid echoed.
They helped her step into her shoes and, with a final assessment, declared her ready.
A knock on the door sounded. “May I come in?” Morgan asked.
“Yes,” Joan answered, lifting her dress ever so slightly so as not to rumple it, but so she could turn to face her brother, giving him the full effect of the dress.
Morgan stepped into the room and paused, his hand coming to his heart. “You’re a vision, dear sister.”
“Thank you,” Joan said, then grinned. “I know.”
“And humble,” he teased as he approached her. “I have a gift for you. Well, it’s already yours but Mother wished me to save it for this special day.” He held out a hand and released a few fingers, and a pearl necklace dangled from his grasp. “And I have the earbobs as well.” He held out his other hand, which held a small wooden box.
Joan’s eyes filled with tears as she fanned her face to keep them from spilling. “Oh, Morgan. I remember these.”
“Yes, I thought you might. May I?” he asked, and when she turned, he latched the pearl necklace on her neck. “Perfect.”
Joan considered herself in the mirror. The necklace was the perfect complement to her gown and hair. “Thank you.”
“I’ll let you put these on.” He handed her the box with the earrings.
Joan nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice as she carefully put in the precious earrings.
“I…couldn’t let you go to a man less worthy,” Morgan said after a moment of silence. “And I’m thankful that if you’re marrying someone, it’s my best friend.”
Joan turned to regard him. “He’s a good man. I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.”
Morgan nodded, then rocked on his heels. “Are you ready?”
“Indeed.” Joan stood up straight and nodded her assent. “Lead the way.”
Morgan offered her his arm and led her from her rooms. Already the maids were packing her belongings.
Morgan helped her into the carriage and instructed the driver to head to St. George’s.
