So with Bayou Betrayal, she’d let loose. She cringed. “It has a bondage scene.”

“Yeah, but that’s the antagonist.”

“My mother’s going to read it. My grandmother’s going to read it.”

“It’s fiction.”

She started hyperventilating. “They’ll think-”

“They’ll think you’re a creative and talented author.”

“They’ll think I’m a hack with loose morals.”

“Who cares?”

“They’re my family.”

“Then they should be proud of you.”

Joan sagged. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Not it’s not.” It might never be fine again.

“Joan.” His voice sounded far away. “I know we can make this work.”

After a second, his words registered.

Make it work?

Of course he’d make it work. Despite his show of sympathy, he had to be elated by the turn of events. He’d been after her for years to do some publicity.

“You sure it wasn’t you?” she asked.

He looked offended. “Joan!”

“It occurs to me that you have to be pretty happy about this.”

“I’m not the least bit happy about this.”

Did she believe him? Was she a fool to believe him? In the end, it didn’t really matter. It was a done deal. Her family would shun her, and Anthony would head back to New York. And she’d be left here on her own.

All the more reason Indigo had to stay the same. She took another breath. She knew now how to mitigate the problem.

Crossing to the table, she sat down and picked up the calligraphy pen.

“Joan?” Anthony ventured from behind her.

“I’m a little busy right now.” She drew a curved capital P with a flourish. “But thanks so much for stopping by.”

He went silent.

She focused and finished the word please. “About the new manuscript,” she said, dipping her pen. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but could I have another couple of weeks to figure out the timing?”