Mr. Whitman’s been a trusted confidante and dear friend for years despite the gap in your ages. So when you came to him, begging him to save you from an arranged marriage to an unsavory stranger, he didn’t hesitate to propose. He’s your husband in name only, but your home is a happy one.

“Care for tea, dear?” Morgan asks, poking his head into the sitting room. “Deep in your embroidery, I see—I shall bring it to you. Milk and sugar?”