He had always carefully guarded and cultivated his reputation. No one could say the current Duke of Kendall was not the epitome of a discerning, highborn gentleman—the sort Queen Victoria could rely upon. He kept no mistress, never gambled or caroused.
“It revolts me to have sired such a milquetoast of a man,”his father had often sneered.“You are a disgrace. No gentleman of our standing will ever admire such a boring, prudish demeanor.”
His father had not been wrong.
But Kendall chose to see such behavior as a strength. He prided himself on his ability to resist his baser instincts.
It was one of many reasons why Lord Hadley and his offspring irked Kendall so. They regularly flouted convention and appeared completely untroubled by the consequences of their behavior—such as standing unchaperoned in ballrooms or speaking their minds to monarchy.
For example, Lord Masterson had taken his leave of Lady Isolde and her sister. The women remained alone, watching the press of guests around them. No gentleman asked either to dance, well aware of the social danger of being seen as too friendly with Lady Isolde. Lady Callaghan, the wife of an Irish Peer, sailed right past the women, nose in the air. Not quite a cut direct, but close.
For her part, Lady Isolde appeared not to notice. She fanned her face and smiled at her sister, looking flagrantly radiant. As if she wished her summer-bright smile to outshine the candelabra overhead and cast other ladies into shad—
“Are you sure it is balls you dislike?” Allie asked, interrupting him once more. “Or is it merely any place that Lady Isolde happens to frequent?”
Gritting his teeth, Kendall forcibly looked away from Hadley’s daughter. Clearly, his attempts to stem his youthful infatuation with Lady Isolde had not been as successful as anticipated.
Like Sir Tristan of legend, this Isolde had cast a spell over him in that sun-drenched garden long ago. A love potion that compelled him to seek her out—to watch and remember most unwillingly.
“I do not understand what you mean,” he said, feigning ignorance and blinking away the sharp memory of Lady Isolde’s fingertips pressed to his eyelids, of her thrumming pulse under his lips . . .
Allie grinned, far too knowingly. “Of course you can continue to deny—”
“Lady Allegra! How lovely to see you again!”
Kendall and Allie both turned as Lady Jarvis stopped before them.
Even before reading of Lady Isolde’s indiscretions with Mr. Stephen Jarvis in her letters, Kendall had disliked the man’s parents—Lord and Lady Jarvis. Lord Jarvis was a bombastic gambler; his wife, a social-climbing busybody.
But Kendall now knew their son’s dark secrets. Once news of Mr.Stephen Jarvis’s financial crimes became public, the entire Jarvis clan would be ostracized. As it was, Kendall despised having to acknowledge an acquaintance with the family.
“Lady Jarvis.” Allie dipped her head in greeting.
Kendall managed the barest of nods before looking away, pretending to study the dancers. It was the closest he could come to a cut direct without causing talk.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lady Jarvis’s smile falter.
Good.
Sheshouldtake heed. Her second son would likely find himself in shackles and transported to Australia before the year was out.
Kendall felt a spike of vindictive glee at the thought.
He had not intended to read Lady Isolde’s private letters two summers ago. But once he realized that he heldherintimate correspondence in his hands . . . well, he had been helpless to stop himself. Her spell had worked its power.
As expected, Lady Isolde’s writing was as heedless and effusive as her person, providing far too much detail of her own indiscretions with the man.
However, more significantly, the letters had discussed applying to Hadley for funds to finance Jarvis’s railroad venture—a request that Hadley had eventually granted.
Given Kendall’s personal knowledge of Stephen Jarvis’s deplorable character, the information sparked questions. Questions that had led Kendall on a merry chase—quizzing investors, hiring investigators, and gathering intelligence about Jarvis’s business dealings.
The upcoming weeks would see the culmination of over a year of careful planning and plotting.
Lady Jarvis turned to Allie. “I was surprised to learn you and Mr. Penn-Leith had returned home from the Mediterranean. I understand there was a death in your husband’s family?”
To Kendall’s dismay, Allie had married far beneath her station in life, having fallen in love with the celebrated Scottish poet, Mr. Ethan Penn-Leith. But as she fairly glowed with happiness, Kendall tolerated her husband.
Kendall listened as Allie explained how Ethan’s uncle had passed away unexpectedly, and as Ethan was the man’s heir, they had returned to settle his affairs.
