Morgan shifted his attention to the window. “I don’t know what to tell you. Sometimes things aren’t meant to be, Sister.”
Joan leaned back on the velvet cushion of the carriage and bit her lip. “I understand.”
It wasn’t until they arrived home and she was readying herself for bed that she questioned Morgan’s behavior.
That was twice in one day he wouldn’t look at her when he spoke.
It might be a coincidence.
But it might not be, either.
As she lay in bed that night, she formulated a plan. Morgan knew that if he lied to her, face-to-face, she’d likely see through it. So, she’d have to converse with him where he couldn’t exploit her weakness.
It was a blessing to have family, but it was a curse when they knew how to use her weakness—her willingness to always believe them—against her.
Even when they thought they were doing it in her best interest.
After a fitful night’s sleep and no small effort on her maid’s part to help her not appear as weary, she went to break her fast, intent on finding her brother.
Only to discover he’d already left and wouldn’t return till evening.
Joan scraped some marmalade across her toast, her frustration compounded by her lack of decent sleep. She was sipping her tea slowly, allowing the sweetness of the sugar to improve her disposition, when the butler came into the breakfast room carrying his silver tray.
Two missives addressed to her awaited her perusal. “Thank you.” She took the letters and broke the seal of the first.
It was from the contact Lady Sandra had given her, Miss Corinne Vanderhaul. Joan read through the letter, noting the invitation for her to visit at her leisure. When she finished, she lifted the next letter.
Miss Emily Bronson.
Joan opened the seal and read the reply to the letter she had sent yesterday. Miss Bronson restated her interest in the Foundling Hospital, and before Joan read the rest of the letter, she stood from the breakfast table.
Miss Vanderhaul had invited her to the Foundling Hospital at her leisure.
Miss Bronson wished to help.
And clearly there were no other pressing matters on her schedule for the day, not with her brother absent on business. So, there was no time like the present.
With a quick stride down the hall, she turned into the blue parlor and sat behind the writing desk. Addressing a letter to each woman, she accepted Miss Vanderhaul’s invitation, notifying her she’d be by around noon. She then sent a letter informing Emily of her plans and inviting her to come along.
After sealing the letters, she called for a maid and handed them off to be dispatched.
Joan’s chest unwound a little, satisfaction taking its place as she considered her plans for the day. Determined to have a better disposition, she quit the parlor to head for her room. She’d need to change into a sturdier dress if she were to assist Miss Vanderhaul.
As she made her way to the staircase, a maid intercepted her. “My lady, this arrived, and I thought you’d wish to read it, as your usual.” She curtsied and offered a printed leaflet.
Joan immediately recognized the typescript of theTattlerand thanked the maid, holding the leaflet carefully to prevent the ink from smudging her fingers. As she reached the top of the stairs, she started to read through the news.
It wasn’t until the last paragraph that she paused, rereading the words that immediately reversed any progress her disposition had made thus far.
And finally, it would seem that even the best qualities of a lady, or her pedigree, cannot compensate for a blunder as monumental as what transpired yesterday at Hyde Park.
Joan let out a groan. It wasn’t as if the park had been completely vacant, but it wasn’t as if the incident had happened during the fashionable hour.
Someone had seen and talked, and word must have spread like wildfire.
Great. Just brilliant.Joan closed her eyes, not wanting to read the rest, but helpless to ignore her curiosity.
She opened one eye, then the other, and read the rest.