“I must say, I’ve heard some interesting stories over the course of my work with the War Office, and this one regarding the parentage of Lord Bircham surprised me—not an easy feat, that.”
Catherine and Morgan shared a look of understanding.
Joan shifted slightly as she spoke. “So, the plan is to locate her with the sleuthing skills possessed by my brother, and then what? Confront her?”
“In simple terms, yes. But I find such things usually are not that simple.”
Catherine frowned. “That is what I’m afraid of.”
Morgan replied, “It’s nothing I cannot manage, my lady.” He gave a slight head bow. “But I am disappointed in myself for not uncovering this truth earlier regarding his birth.” His brows knitted together. “I did quite a bit of research—”
“On Bircham?” Catherine asked.
“Yes,” he answered, then continued slowly as if admitting something he was unsure she was aware of. “Quin asked me to check into him. I’m assuming you guessed as much.”
Catherine arched a brow. “I wasn’t certain, but it does not surprise me.”
Morgan replied with the tone of imparting a great secret. “He was gone on you before he knew it—Quin, that is. I tried to tell him to offer for you right away. His attachment to you was clear to anyone but himself.”
Catherine’s heart warmed at the picture Morgan painted with his words. “It was a process, for both of us.”
“Love is never without obstacles,” Joan said sagely.
“Listen to you.” Morgan nodded in approval. He turned to Catherine. “You’d be interested to know how my sister has been spending her spare time.” He gave Joan a half-indulgent shrug.
“He doesn’t entirely approve, but there’s not much he can do without openly threatening me, and I have far too much information for that to be wise.” Joan arched her brows challengingly at her brother as she spoke. She paid him no heed, simply spoke in a forthright manner to her companion. “I’m a bit of a bluestocking and have been working with a few ladies to bring awareness to the situation of women in London.”
Catherine addressed her young friend. “Truly?”
Joan nodded. “I believe that men and women are created equal, yet society doesn’t treat them that way.”
“That’s quite forward-thinking.” Catherine was curious what had started a gently bred lady on such a path.
“You’re kind. Most people call me something much different when they learn my sentiments.” Joan spoke with a dry tone. “I’ve studied Mary Wollstonecraft’s works and find them inspiring, but I have my own opinions. That’s the goal, is it not? To learn, grow, and then think for oneself?”
Catherine approved. “I can see we are going to be wonderful friends.”
“You don’t think ill of my radical beliefs?” Joan asked, casting a furtive look to her brother.
Catherine waved a hand dismissively. “No, you have passion, and that is sorely lacking in our world.” She touched Joan on the shoulder. “Tell me more.”
The carriage rumbled on, the time moving far more swiftly than Catherine would have thought. Joan’s discernment and education were impressive, and they spoke at length regarding possible plans for the future.
Joan wasn’t active only in the movement for the expansion of ladies’ rights, but also for improving the conditions for women and children in the poorer regions of London. Upon learning that Catherine was in the middle of drawing up plans for an orphanage, Joan quickly asked to be a part, and the rest of the journey was completed with the making of plans and exchange of ideas.
Morgan listened politely, adding his thoughts, perceptions, and humor. The tension that had surrounded Catherine at the beginning of the journey melted away slowly, and as they arrived on the outskirts of Cambridge, she was nearly feeling peaceful.
A feat for sure, given her previous strain.
“Ah, home,” Morgan said with a reverent tone, his attention fixed on the passing buildings from the carriage window.
“He’s attached to this place,” Joan said, smiling. “He’s never really at rest in London.”
“It’s too loud, and I know…too much about the people there,” Morgan agreed softly. “Too many motives, intentions, and responsibilities.” He turned to his sister. “I don’t mean you, of course.”
“Of course.” Joan beamed at Catherine. “I’m the easiest part of your life.”
At this, Morgan gave her a sarcastic look.