To Covet a Lady's Heart (The Landon Sisters) by Ingrid Hahn

Author:Ingrid Hahn [Hahn, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Regency, Historical Fiction, Historical Romance, To Win a Lady's Heart, Entangled, London, Ingrid Hahn, Historical, Scandalous, england, Romance, 1800s
Amazon: B01ND1FWJ9
Publisher: Entangled: Scandalous
Published: 2017-02-19T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It wasn’t yet noon when Max pounded up the stairs of his Mayfair residence, taking them two at a time.

Of course, after he had Thomas, he’d close the London house. When he returned to town, he could just as easily stay with his mother. She’d like to see Thomas. That meant leaving his cook behind, but he wouldn’t plan on ever staying longer than a week.

But would his mother forgive him when he didn’t marry Phoebe? It was the one thing she wanted for him, above all. God knew why; her own marriage had been a disaster. Although, to hear her tell it, she regretted nothing. Her children were too dear to her. Considering Max owed his own existence to the union, he could hardly blame her.

Marriage. The very thought of the word raised the storm inside him to violent proportions. He’d sworn he would have done anything to gain his nephew. Anything.

Except marry.

There had to be another way—something he hadn’t yet considered. Another angle. Another idea. Another…something.

The only thing he could see, however, was that he would have to have a conversation with his mother. Make her see reason.

Yes. Reason. And how would he phrase his plea this time? What could he say to implore her—convince her? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried and tried again innumerable times already. Each instance had ended the same way. In failure.

He burst into the room where he’d temporarily housed a desk while the wood floors below were being redone. Marriage meant providing a suitable home for his bride, and part of the ruse was undertaking improvements.

Max sat, pulled out a sheet of paper, and took his pen, only to find the inkwell empty. “Hell.”

Now where had the inkpot been hidden?

He rummaged through the detritus on the desk and in the drawers. What a sore trial it was not to have everything in perfect order. And what an unfortunate reflection of his life this was.

He found the ink and began filling the well. Only his hands trembled with anger and he spilled. Black liquid ran over the surface of the desk, streamed off the edge, and began puddling on the floor. Glancing down, he found spots on the previously immaculate fawn of his breeches.

Digsby would be in a state when he saw this. He could already hear the man’s sniff of disapproval. But his valet was the least of his concerns.

Struggling to remain in control of himself, Max paced to the other side of the room. No fire burned, so he couldn’t take the iron and stab it into the flames. It would take too long to travel all the way to Angelo’s over in Bond Street. He shook with energy that needed to be burned immediately—no delay. Before he cracked and did something inexcusable.

Like say to hell with his promises to himself.

The thought proved almost too much. A wave came over him, unlike anything he’d ever before experienced in the entirety of his life. Huge and terrifying. He was going to be ruined—battered, buried, and left for dead in the wreckage of his own emotions.

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