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“I just hope it helps those poor girls,” Ciara murmured, the weight of her concern still present.

Jonathan nodded. “It will. You’ve given them a chance at a better life.”

“This is only the beginning,” she replied. “I hope it all goes well.”

“Of course, it will,” Jonathan nodded. “Although it might not seem that way, good does triumph over evil when good people like you take action.”

She smiled, her heartwarming at his words. “It is not only me,” she reminded him. “Your cousin and her husband are such wonderful people. I wouldn’t have started all of this without them and their support and yours, of course.”

“Yes, we are here to support you,” he confirmed. “But you are the one who had to endure all of that. You are the one who truly knows how all those other girls feel, those are still stuck in that horrible place.”

She nodded. It was difficult not to think about all those other girls she had spent years with, crying, trembling, fearing the worst punishment that the nuns could come up with. But now, she could see the light at the end of that long tunnel which she thought she would never see the end of. Life was improving, and she would be the positive action in helping those girls as well. She promised herself she would, regardless of all the doubts and fears she might still harbor.

Buoyed by the good news, Ciara turned her attention to the second letter. She carefully broke the seal and unfolded the paper, her surprise growing as she read.

“It’s an invitation to a ball,” she announced, holding up the letter for Jonathan to see. “Lord and Lady Taversham are hosting it.”

She didn’t know who they were. In fact, that didn’t matter at all. What mattered were her reactions to the invitation itself. She expected a surge of stress and nerves to wash over her, but instead, she felt nothing. She was calm and composed, rereading the lovely invitation and welcoming tone of it.

“We don’t have to go,” he suddenly said as his voice brought her back to the present moment. “I know you don’t really like balls and such social events.”

She thought about it then she smiled. “You know what? I think I am all right.”

“You are?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I thought you would jump at the idea of not having to go.”

She got up and walked over to him, taking a seat freely in his lap. For some reason, she wanted to be close to him, to smell him, to touch him. His proximity provided her with all the courage she could ever need. With him by her side, she could stand against the entire world and be confident in her victory.

“For the first time, I’m not panic-stricken,” Ciara admitted, her smile steady and without faltering. “I actually feel… excited to go.”

He frowned, slightly pulling away from her as he took a deep, long, introspective look. “Are you certain that you are my wife and not an imposter?”

Ciara chuckled. “Perhaps. How does that make you feel?”

He lifted his arms in surrender. “I’m not allowed to touch any other woman but my wife. Be gone, imposter and tell my wife to come back. She still doesn’t have to go to this ball if she doesn’t want to.”

She laughed again, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the cheek. “I want to wear the most beautiful gown and make you proud.”

He gazed at her in a way he rarely did, as if he was trying to understand something, to come to terms with something. Then, he grinned, back to his mischievous self.

“You know I like you best naked,” he teased.

“I cannot very well go to a ball naked!” She laughed, and he had to join in.

“Yes, that would not be proper at all,” he mused through his chuckles. “People will talk. There might be a terrible scandal. No, we cannot risk that. It is best for you to remain naked in our home and only there.”

“I agree,” she purred into his neck, kissing him. “Wholeheartedly.”

“Oh, I was certain would, you little minx,” he murmured back, gripping her by the waist, but before they could do anything about it, a knock on the door interrupted them.

He frowned. “Go away!” he shouted playfully while she laughed.

“No, no, come in!” she shouted over him as they both lost themselves in laughter.

The door opened, and Mrs. Dawson excused herself, stating that Ciara was needed to decide on the newest carpets and drapes.

“Can’t you do that later?” Jonathan whispered as she stood up from his lap.

“No,” she giggled, kissing him on the cheek. “But I promise to make it up to you tonight,” she whispered back, rushing over to Mrs. Dawson, feeling her cheeks blushing with affection and tenderness.