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“You have some promises to keep, Your Grace. I’m only making sure you honor them.”
Rowles helped her into the carriage, deciding that the ride back home was far too long to wait, but also enjoying the heady anticipation. “Is that so? Are you afraid I’ll go back on my word?” he asked, nibbling at her lip as the carriage moved forward toward home.
“No, simply impatient for you to begin,” Joan mumbled against his hungry lips. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he said, then leaned back. “I started loving you the moment you told me I wasn’t like my mother. And I loved you more when you captivated my mind with your sparkling debate.” He paused and shook his head. “Joan of Arc saved a nation. Joan Morgan, you’ve saved me,” he whispered.
Joan regarded him tenderly and pulled him into a kiss that said far more than words ever could.
In the end, three things remain.
Faith, hope, and love.
But the greatest of these, by far, is love.
