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“The carpet is showing signs of wear.” Her brother nodded to where she paused her pacing. He was leaning against the doorframe of the library, watching her with an expression that wavered from concern to sorrow to something she couldn’t see before he turned away quickly.
“An excuse to buy a new rug,” Joan suggested with a teasing tone. “Unless it’s a secret favorite of yours.”
“It’s no such thing, and I will happily trod on whatever you choose for its replacement.” He straightened from the doorframe. “The duke would like a word with you,” he said, then stepped toward her. “Consider your heart and your future before you make any decisions. Be honest with him, and uncover all that needs to be known before you run headlong into…anything,” he finished, awkwardly pulled her into a rare hug.
“And if you wish to tell him nothing, your secret will always be safe with me,” he murmured, then released her as quickly as he had embraced her. “Go.” He nodded, taking a step back.
Joan blinked, her heart pounding with the implication of his words yet also the serious nature of their meaning. She tipped her chin, studying him before giving a single, solemn nod.
Wordlessly she left the library and walked on silent feet to the door leading to the study, the absence of her brother following behind a telling indication of what waited within the doors.
Her hand trembled as she pushed the slightly ajar door open. Nervous anticipation filled her as she raised her eyes to meet Rowles, who stood abruptly as she entered. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, then bowed.
“Joan.”
Her heart raced at the sound of her name on his lips, and a smile slipped through her tension, softening the moment.
“Rowles,” she murmured, tasting his name on her tongue, reveling in the weight of it, owning it. Praying it was only the beginning of the millions of times she’d speak his name.
He took a few steps toward her, then paused, his lips parting, then closing as if searching for the perfect words. With a self-deprecating expression, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked up to her from his lowered chin, which gave him an almost shy expression. “Now that I have the moment I’ve wished for, I have no idea where to begin.”
“I suppose the most important part would be a good place to begin.” Joan traced a finger along the back of a settee as she took a step toward him.
“That is the heart of the matter. All of it is important.” Rowles’s intensely observant eyes followed her every movement as if he was captivated. “Because it’s all about you, and not one aspect is less grand than the other,” he confessed, his blue eyes trapping her with their hope, intensity, and love.
Good Lord, she’d never seen anything like it.
It enveloped her, as if she was jumping off a rocky shore into an ocean that immediately swallowed her, only to realize she was at home in the depths even more than on the land. It wove a spell around her, called to her, soul to soul. It named her beautiful, loved, cherished, and wanted all with one glance, filling her soul in ways she had never known it was empty.
“If you want my heart, I’m not going to second-guess your choice. I’ve spent my life second-guessing myself, my worthiness, and even my sanity.” He gave a humorless laugh. “But I need your love more than anything, and I refuse.” He stepped forward and closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he grasped her hands and pulled her in so that their toes touched. The scent of peppermint and clove clung to his skin, spicing the air around them. “I refuse to choose for you, and I confess that I was. I had made the choice to remove myself from your life, as much as was possible, so that you could find someone better, more worthy. Yet, with every conversation, every look…” He met her eyes, his tormented soul laid bare in his expression. “It haunted me, called to me, and eventually I realized that by removing myself, I’d also made the choice for you, which was unfair. After all our conversations about the place and position of women in our country, I fell into one of the oldest traps of thinking I knew better than you.”
Joan reached up and touched his jaw, sliding her fingers till she cupped his face. Her heart was breaking at his confession, at the bareness of his soul that didn’t see all the wonderful things she saw when she looked at him, talked with him, thought about him. How could someone be so blind to their own glory? She opened her mouth to speak the truth, but he continued.
“And then I had a thought, and it pierced me like an arrow.” He took a deep breath and leaned into her hand’s caress. “I might not be the best man available, but I swear to you, Joan Morgan,” he whispered, “my love for you will be the best love.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she smiled through them. “Yes, yes, it is,” she murmured, reaching up her other hand and cupping his face.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, setting her heart to hammering with the touch. Her blood pounded in her veins with the power of the moment, an she could feel his heart thudding as it echoed hers.
Two hearts.
One soul.
She’d never understood the concept she had read in books until that moment.
“Often the hero is the savior, but Joan…rescue me. You’re the only one who holds my heart. Marry me?” He leaned back, and with a reverent bow, he took a knee and laced his fingers through hers, gazing up at her.
Warm love surrounded her like a song as she nodded through the tears that fell freely down her cheeks. “I can’t imagine loving anyone more than I love you,” she whispered, hiccupping on a mix between a laugh and sob.
He bowed his head as if saying a prayer of thanks, then quickly rose and in one swift movement pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. Joan closed her eyes and melted into his embrace, memorizing it, finding it felt like home.
Leaning back slightly, he reached up and touched her chin, lifting it a bit. “May I?” he asked.
Joan’s heart melted a little more. He always asked, never assumed, his will at the mercy of hers, and not realizing it was the very same with her. Her will was at the mercy of his.
That’s what love was about, selfless.
Yielding to the other.
