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“Sometimes I think Morgan was born old,” Joan said as she passed Rowles in the library.
“I’ve had the same said about me,” Rowles said by way of reply.
“And yet you haven’t lost your ability to laugh,” she pointed out with a winning smile.
“True,” Rowles conceded.
“What is this?” Joan asked, tipping her head slightly as she studied the gold-colored tube resting on a nearby shelf.
Rowles’s face stretched into a smile. “That is a kaleidoscope.”
“Pardon?” Joan turned to him, her inquisitive eyes dancing.
Rowles lifted the long brass tube from its perch. “Allow me to demonstrate.” He first placed the cool metal cylinder to his eye and then turned toward the window, allowing light to filter through the lenses. He twisted to adjust the picture within and lowered it. “Come.” He motioned to Joan.
She stood beside him and grasped the brass cylinder as he handed it to her. “Place this end near your eye and look through it while you hold the other end to the light,” Rowles whispered, watching with fascination as she followed his instructions. He waited for it, the gasp of wonder that he knew would soon follow.
A moment later, Joan gasped, her lips spreading into a delighted expression of wonder. “Watch this,” Rowles whispered, turning the end that moved the colors as they reflected in the interior mirrors, shifting the design into new ones.
“It’s magnificent,” Joan murmured, distracted by the wonder within.
“It is, isn’t it?”
She lowered the glass and turned to him. “Wherever did you find this?”
“This device was invented by David Brewster. I have a colleague in Cambridge who knew him personally, and he gave this to me when I resigned my position at the college,” Rowles replied.
“What a lovely gift.”
“Indeed. It’s unique, but I expect they will be quite commonplace in the future.”
Joan lifted the kaleidoscope once more and turned the end as Rowles had, then reacted to the wonder. “It’s utterly breathtaking.”
“It is,” Rowles replied in response to his attention onher.
Joan lowered the glass, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue as she understood his compliment. “Aren’t you the charmer today?”
“It’s freeing to say what’s on my mind rather than try to hide it from prying eyes. I suppose you’ll have to grow accustomed to my attentions.”
“I think I can manage that,” Joan replied shyly. “I think I’ll manage that quite well.”
Mrs. Adams came into the library and curtsied to the duke. “Your Grace, how may I be of assistance?” she asked. Her dress and pinafore were perfectly ironed and starched, presenting a very capable front. A swell of pride flowed through him. Joan would be aided by a very capable and kind staff, and he was thankful.
“Ah, Mrs. Adams, allow me to introduce you to my betrothed, Lady Joan Morgan.” He held a hand toward Joan, who curtsied prettily to the housekeeper.
“A pleasure, Mrs. Adams,” Joan said in greeting.
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Joan. We are all looking forward to serving you,” Mrs. Adams replied.
“Mrs. Adams, would you assist Lady Joan in preparations for the wedding breakfast?” Rowles asked. “And if the rooms are ready, I’d like to give her a full tour as well so she may become familiar with her soon-to-be home.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Yes, the staff has been working diligently to prepare the new duchess’s rooms, and I hope you’ll both find them satisfactory. In the meantime, Lady Joan, I’m sure the staff can attend to every wish you have for your wedding breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Joan replied, worrying her lip a bit. “I confess I’m not sure where to start.”
“If I may, I drew up a possible menu. You may make whatever adjustments you desire and we can start there,” Mrs. Adams offered.
Joan’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. “That sounds perfect. Thank you. I can tell already that we are going to get along quite well, Mrs. Adams.”
