Dalton Irving was sure of exactly one thing at this very moment.
He was hopelessly lost.
This was true mostly in a metaphorical sense.
Dalton had never planned on marrying Robert Thorne. He had never planned on being the family’s heir either. Now that both were expected of him, and he knew just how much Robert dreaded it, he didn’t know what to do.
A part of him wanted to cry.
Most of what Robert said wasn’t wrong. Dalton was young. He did have trouble having conversations with people he didn’t know well. He hadn’t had much experience out in the world. But that hardly meant he was just a boy. That didn’t mean he couldn’t string two sentences together. And it certainly didn’t mean he knew nothing about the world.
A hard lump pushed at his throat, razor-sharp and painful. Dalton alread
