Tristan cleared his throat.
If apologies were to be the order of the day, well, he had his own to make.
“I . . . I should like to express my regret for my instigating role in the situation with Jarvis. As a gentleman, I should have discussed my concerns with you privately before making them public.”
“Aye, ye should have,” Hadley said in that same gruff tone. “But I also should have scrutinized Jarvis’s dealings more thoroughly. However, Izzy was insistent—ye might know that side of her by now—and I was distracted by everyday affairs. I found it simpler to appease her with a few thousand pounds invested than to do a proper investigation. I should have been more attentive to the letters I sent my solicitor in Manchester. My actions were not intentionally fraudulent. But had I given more consideration tae the matter, I would have understood the state of affairs with Jarvis sooner.”
They stood in silence again.
“I do love her, you know,” Tristan said. “More than life itself.”
“Aye. She told me as much.” Hadley spared him a glance. “Hard tae believe.”
“Truly? Loving Isolde is the easiest, most natural thing I have ever done.”
“Ah, Duke, ye seem tae be developing a way with words,” Hadley chuckled in astonishment. “Must be Penn-Leith’s influence.”
“Hardly. I have loved Isolde for nearly a decade.”
That tidbit of information sent Hadley’s brow to furrowing. “Och, my Izzy didn’t tell me this. How so?”
As he had with Rafe the night before, Tristan described his encounter with Isolde, long ago in Montacute’s garden. Of his own instantaneous, free-fall into love with her.
“As you can imagine, after loving your daughter for so long, the gift of her returning affection leaves me awestruck. I intend to worship her for the rest of my days.”
“I cannot believe she loves ye in return.” Hadley’s frown deepened.
“’Tis astonishing. I am unworthy of her love.”
“At last!” Hadley pushed off the balustrade, hands moving to his hips. “Something we can agree on.”
“But know that I shall endeavor all my days to be worthy.”
“Won’t we all? But I am glad to hear it, Kendall."
Shifting on his feet, Tristan made yet another decision. “I would actually prefer you call me Tristan. A new name for a new beginning, as it were.”
Hadley nodded slowly. “I guess ye should call me Andrew then.” He sighed, another heavy gust of air. “Damn and blast! I never guessed I would decide to try tae love a Duke of Kendall.”
“Pardon?”
“Have ye read the Bible?”
Tristan floundered.
“A little, I suppose,” he said, remembering the passages Isolde had sent him in what felt like eons past.
“Aye, well, ye should read more of it. Turns out, it has much tae say about forgiveness. I’ve forgiven much worse slights than yours against myself.” Hadley held out his palm. “Love my daughter as ye say ye will, Tristan, and all will be well between us.”
Tristan shook Hadley’s hand.
It was a ruse, of course. Hadley pulled on their joined palms, forcing Tristan closer to give him a thumping embrace.
They broke apart at the sound of a nearby laugh.
Tristan stepped back just in time to watch Isolde run into Hadley’s arms. “Thank ye, Papa. I knew ye two could begin to reconcile.”
After hugging her father, she immediately turned and wrapped her arms around Tristan’s waist. “And you, too, Husband.”
