“There’s a severe deficiency in women’s education. You know this. You were giving me the freedom to study that which interested me and expanded my mind.”
“Which I’m utterly reaping the benefits of currently.”
“It was never for your benefit, Morgan.”
He made an impatient movement with his left hand. “Carry on.”
“It was in the way he carried himself, confident, yet expectant and…almost bracing himself for some attack.” She lifted one delicate brow in query. “The battlefield is within one’s mind. That was exactly what I saw in him. Sometimes you need something…someone…to point you in the right direction. So…I did.”
“By saying?”
“Simply saying what I saw!”
When Morgan didn’t reply, she hazarded a look up to him.
“And what was his response?” he asked quietly.
She shrugged. “I don’t think he believed me, but he will. It’s a burden he shouldn’t have to bear when it’s clearly a lie.”
“He didn’t question how you came to such an observation?” Morgan asked skeptically.
“I tried to go about it in a way that didn’t reveal how perceptive I am, an observation that anyone could make. I’m smarter than you give me credit for, Morgan.”
“It’s not your intelligence I’ve ever found wanting. It’s your lack of sophistication that I fear will lead you astray.”
“I call that your inability to give humanity the benefit of the doubt.”
“And I call it covering my…self.” He smirked and then shook his head. “Very well, it seems that the crisis I imagined is not forthcoming.”
“Shocking, that, since you’re so often the optimist of the two of us.”
A smile slid over his face. “As I said, cheeky.”
Joan’s lips quirked to the side as she nibbled the last part of her rasher of bacon. “Will that be all?”
“For now. I’m sure I’ll find another reason to rake you across the coals, but you’re free for the moment,” he teased, then tipped his head to the side. “I should think you’ll be expecting some company later today.”
“I should hope so. If not, my come-out was a complete failure,” she replied. “But I do expect I’ll have a few callers.”
“With their sonnets.”
She gave a thoughtful sigh. “I think I should like to have a sonnet written for me. To be one’s muse… It’s a heady thought.”
“Yes, well…”
Joan smirked at how her brother didn’t come back with an articulate response. “Have you ever written a sonnet for a lady, Morgan?”
He gave her a withering glare. “I have better things to do with my time.”
“Ah, yes, saving the world and all.”
“It’s a team effort, I like to imagine.”
She giggled. “Indeed. Speaking of which, have you any other need of my assistance?”
“Not at the moment.” He paused. “But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
“Very well. If we’re finished here, I need to dress for my prospective visitors this afternoon.” She reached for her plate but paused, one finger raised. “You asked me to remind you the next time I plan to attend a meeting…”