CHAPTER 33
Morgan sat in the chair next to the marble fireplace and waited while Constance jabbed the waning flames. She replaced the poker in its cradle, then sat in the chair across from him.
She smoothed her hands over her dress, set them in her lap, and looked him in the eye. “Morgan, what are your intentions where my daughter is concerned?”
Morgan held her blue gaze. Her calm demeanor and stiff spine told him one thing—she knew exactly what he felt, but wanted to hear him say it. He cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I love your daughter.”
Constance nodded. “Then why in the world did you let her get on that horse?”
Morgan recognized the heat in her eyes. It was so like Charley’s. This was where Charley got her elegance. And her spunk.
“Ma’am, you know your daughter better than me. So y
