Chapter 2Anthony, out in the hall, managed a steadying breath. Two. Squared shoulders. Upright. Upstanding. Put together.
Solving problems. What he did. What he’d always done. What he was paid to do.
He was not doing this because he was paid to do so. He was doing this because—
He couldn’t think that way. His task was twofold: to ascertain what on earth had just occurred to cause that dreadful clamor, and to discover the precise situation in which Robert’s betrothal currently existed. And speaking of said betrothal—
Of all the people Anthony did not particularly wish to encounter, and yet felt inarguably duty-bound to encounter, the top of that list stood in the hallway a few steps away, looking at Thorne family portraits with an indecipherable expression. Dalton Irving was objectively
