The Secret Heart (No Better Angels Book 1) by Erin Satie

Author:Erin Satie [Erin Satie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, Victorian, Sports, Historical Fiction, Historical Romance, Earl, ballerina, victorian romance, Boxing, Heir, Romance
ISBN: 9781942457008
Amazon: B00PA0EE8E
Publisher: Little Phrase
Published: 2014-11-05T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Adam found his father in the dining room, halfway through a cut of roast lamb and undressed greens. He looked up as Adam entered, hawkish eyes gleaming in his narrow, patrician face. His cane, jade-barreled and gold-capped, hung from a specially made brass fork hooked over the back of his chair.

“Adam. I thought you’d given up on eating?”

“Not yet.” Adam sat down at a right angle to his father, who’d taken his place at the head of the table. “Pleasant journey?”

“No.” Hastings cut another piece of lamb and carried it to his mouth, chewing slowly. Adam waited, as he was meant to. “I do not like being summoned away from London. I do not like traveling without adequate preparation. And I do not like being made to hurry.”

“Summoned?”

“By Paul, who was worried about this trouble with Matthew.” Hastings took another bite of lamb. Another uncomfortable wait while he chewed. “It appears I did not arrive in time.”

The implication was clear, and Adam addressed it directly: “I didn’t kill him.”

“I don’t care if you did, Adam. Matthew was a blight upon the family and he won’t be missed.” Deliberately, precisely, his father put down his utensils. “But I need the truth. If we start a search for the murderer and don’t find one—”

“I won’t say it again,” Adam interrupted.

“Then bringing Matthew’s killer to justice must be our first priority. Present company excepted, nobody kills a Spark and gets away with it.” Hastings twitched a finger at the footman waiting by his shoulder—a burly man with a military bearing; one of his father’s personal servants—and the sparsely laid, half-eaten plate was quickly whisked away. “I’ve already spoken with Paul. He won’t cause any more trouble.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “How’d you manage that?”

“Paul is a dependent, Adam. His personal income is small, his expenses great. He came to heel quickly enough.”

Adam needed his father’s help, and he was glad that Paul had been collared by his need for ducal largesse. But he’d been in Paul’s position before—forced to act against his own nature for the good of the family—and he knew how it felt.

After Lily had died, after Adam had returned to England alone, he had been half-mad with grief. He had thrown himself into anything that could focus his mind on the present, or make him forget the past. He drank, he gamed—he’d caused scenes everywhere he went.

At first, his father had taken advantage of Adam’s collapse. He’d arranged the engagement to Lady Nan Houghton, a good match with a woman Adam hardly knew. He hadn't objected—he’d been in no state to make a stand, or to make decisions of any kind.

When Alfie had seduced Lady Nan, Adam had taken the blame. For the duel that followed, and for the shameful way he’d refused to shoot.

His father had called off the wedding. Lady Nan had retired to the country. And Adam had been ordered to do the same.

He’d refused. He needed the city, and all the distractions it offered.

In response, his

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