And so Isolde currently sat in the library of Gilbert House, awaiting Kendall’s arrival. In the duke’s preferred armchair, no less.
Generally, Isolde—fearless and reckless though she may be at times—would not have dared be so bold.
However, Allie had insisted.
“I love my brother,” she had said only an hour earlier, “but he is being obstinate and pig-headed in this matter with Hadley. Deep down, Tristan is a loving person. He needs to be fostering friendships at present, not adding to his count of enemies. Perhaps your pleading will reach him where mine has not.”
Isolde was unsure on that score. If Kendall wouldn’t relent for his sister—whom the man adored—why would he listen to Isolde, whom he detested?
“But . . . why must I meet with him alone?” she had asked.
“I know my brother,” Allie replied. “If I am in the room, he will simply ignore you. I want him to be forced to listen to your words. However, I promise to remain close for propriety’s sake.”
Isolde had grimaced but acquiesced. At this juncture, she was willing to try anything. Kendall could scarcely hate her any more than he already did. And she had experienced a wicked thrill in her breast at the idea of tormenting the ill-natured duke.
Most importantly, Allie sat in the music room next door, ready and willing to assist.
Isolde took a sip of His Grace’s fine Glenturret whisky which she had poured for courage. Rain pattered against the two tall windows opposite, gray skies shrouding the corners in shadows.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the central hallway outside the door.
Taking in a deep breath, Isolde forced her shoulders to ease and her face to become impassive. She had brothers and, therefore, instinctively recognized that nonchalance would be her most effective weapon.
She had just finished arranging her skirts and slouching into the chair-back when the doorsnickedopen.
Pausing just inside the doorway, Kendall didn’t notice her at first, curled into the worn armchair before the hearth.
Naturally, this gave Isolde a chance to study the duke as he consulted his pocket-watch, a book tucked under his arm.
He was still dressed for his club: immaculately pressed coat, precisely-tied neckcloth, silk waistcoat embroidered with metallic gold thread that glinted in the dreary light. As usual, his gray hair was militantly pomaded and styled, not a strand out of place as he tucked his pocket-watch away.
Marble, Isolde mused, had more chance of rumpling than the Duke of Kendall.
All of which explained why his yelp of surprise upon finally seeing her—a startled flinch and lift of the book he held—was so deliciously satisfying.
“Your Grace.” Isolde nodded her head politely.
It galled her to pretend such obeisance, but as she wished him to consider her petition . . .
Kendall’s nostrils flared as he slowly lowered the book. “How did you—”
“Lady Allegra,” Isolde supplied. “Your sister is through there, likely listening at the keyhole.” She indicated the music-room door immediately to the right of the hearth.
“Indeed I am!” came Allie’s muffled voice.
Kendall glared at the door, a muscle twitching in his jaw, before bringing his eyes back to Isolde.
“You should have greater care for your reputation, Lady Isolde,” hetsked, words cold. “But given your past behavior and our current situation, I doubt you will grant the subject the solemn study required.”
“Thank you for your advice, Your Grace.” Isolde’s returning tone was saccharine sweet and, unfortunately, entirely insincere.
Drat this man and his ability to overset her. Maintaining composure in the face of his scorn was a nearly Herculean task.
Kendall tossed his book onto a side table beside the door—The Philosophy of the Inductive Sciencesby Mr. William Whewell. She recognized the unique yellow-and-blue leather banding on the spine even from a distance.
Isolde’s eyebrows rose at his decidedly-ambitious choice of reading material. Mr. Whewell’s theories on scientific method were not for the faint of heart. She would know; she had spent an entire term devoted to understanding the mathematics behind them at Broadhurst.
How did Kendall find time for rigorous analytical study amid all his political scheming?
