Adam began to grow hot beneath Tristan’s fine tunic. At least he was appropriately attired for a meeting with an earl.
Although there was good chance that the earl recognized his own son’s clothing.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation in hand. “I would not make that claim, milord.”
The earl gave him an appraising look. “I heard tell of a blaze, which might have swallowed up the whole house.”
“It did not properly take hold.”
Adam could not bear false praise to be heaped upon him.
“I see.” The earl looked down at an open roll of parchment on his desk. “One of my own knights attacked my own daughter.” He shook his head sadly, drawing Adam’s eye to glints of silver amongst the gold. “’Tis enough to make you distrust any man.”
Adam’s throat had grown so dry, he could hardly form a reply. “I’m sure it is, milord.”
The earl made a noncommittal sound, and Adam thought for a moment that he might gesture him toward a chair.
But he did not.
Instead, he sighed deeply and resumed his perusal of the parchment.
Beads of perspiration sprang out on Adam’s forehead. He did not have much experience with peers of the realm, but knew enough to realize he must stand here without question, for as long as the earl desired.
“Shall I tell what else I have heard, Adam Hawker? Another tale of your exploits, one might say.”
Blood pounded in Adam’s ears.
The earl must know what has passed between Esme and I.
But amidst the rising tide of his anxiety, he heard Mirrie’s soft voice.
“Try to look beyond the trappings of wealth to see the de Nevilles as they really are.”
Adam refocused his gaze, seeing the man in front of him not as a wealthy earl, but a loving father.
The question asked of him was rhetorical, but he answered it anyway, standing tall and speaking with authority.
“Please do tell.”
An indecipherable look passed over the earl’s features, which were still handsome, despite his advanced years.
He rose up from his chair with admirable ease and crossed over to the fire.
“Let us sit comfortably.” He waved vaguely toward Adam and the second chair.
Adam had no wish to position himself any closer to the fire, but he could not refuse.
The earl sank down and gazed into the flames, seemingly lost in thought. But when he finally looked up at Adam, his blue eyes were watchful and alert.
“I knighted Sir Crispin de Gough myself, if you would believe it?”
Adam did not think this required an answer. He hoped, quite fervently, that inclining his head in recognition would be enough.
“Sir Crispin de Gough claims that you have an improper relationship with my daughter.” The earl’s voice was harsh. “What do you say to that, Adam Hawker?”
Courage, honesty and true love.
Adam took a deep breath. “I say that I care for her deeply, milord.”
