Even if Stephen Jarvis is found guilty of criminal business practices, it is a false equivalence fallacy to assume that Jarvis’s crimes also belong to Lord Hadley.
Kendall scanned through the rest. Her list containedsixteenpoints. She had even provided justification for the number—I chose 16 as itcorrelates with the Greekphiand Euclid’s golden ratio of 1.6—the alignment of which underscores the logical validity of these arguments.
Naturally, the letter was signed,A Concerned Friend, masking the impudent woman’s identity.
Friend,his arse.
Irritation lit beneath his sternum.
How dare she lecturehimon logic and reasoning.
His fingers itched for a pen. She wanted a logical argument, did she?
Well, he would happily deliver one.
Lord Hadley wastroubled.
Isolde knew her father and his moods, and she had no recollection of ever seeing such a tightness around his mouth, as if every muscle there had frozen. Though he made a pretense of shrugging off this matter with Kendall and Lords, she noted the uncharacteristic sharpness in his voice when speaking with Marshall, their butler. Not to mention the conspicuous number of gentlemen regularly escorted into his study—Lord Lockheade, Lord Mansfield—followed by the low murmur of intense conversation.
Even Uncle Rafe had come to Town, theoretically to meet with his solicitors on a business matter, but the hours he spent closeted with her father suggested otherwise. Rafe was not a blood relation, but the close relationship between their families meant Isolde and her siblings had always called himuncle.
Worse, Lord Barnaby had been notably absent over the past week. Given that Catriona and Barnie had been inseparable merely ten days ago, Isolde found the development worrying. The wedding had not been called off, but Catriona picked at her food and rushed to the window every time the front bell rang, eager to see who was calling. The resignedslump in her shoulders when she realized the person at the door was not her beloved . . .
It nearly broke Isolde’s heart.
She wanted to rage at Kendall. To storm Gilbert House and pound her fist against his broad ducal chest until he relented.
But even more, she was furious with herself. If only she had taken care to truly assess Jarvis and his motives. If only she had burned their correspondence before letting it fall into Kendall’s hands. Though her letters only documented the fact of Hadley’s investment with Jarvis, they had provided Kendall with a map of where to begin his own investigation.
Isolde would see this righted.
Unfortunately, His Grace had yet to respond to her entreaties.
A week after her visit with Kendall, Isolde sat with her mother, Catriona, and Mariah, sorting through ribbon and lace samples for Catriona’s wedding bonnet. They all proclaimed excitement, but Catriona’s wan complexion and Lady Hadley’s false cheer rather dampened the atmosphere.
They all turned as the drawing-room doorsnickedopen, and Marshall entered carrying a silver salver.
“This just arrived for you, Lady Isolde.” With a flourish, the butler lowered the platter, revealing a slim package wrapped in brown paper and twine.
Lady Hadley glanced up from a pile of cream ribbon. “Gracious. From whom, Marshall?”
“I cannot say, my lady. It was delivered via street urchin.”
“Street urchin?” Catriona sat back in alarm, dropping the fine Belgian lace in her hand.
Tentatively, Isolde lifted the parcel from the offered tray.
“Is it a book, Isolde?” Mariah asked, curiosity lighting her gaze.
It certainly felt like a book.
“Was there a note, Marshall?” Lady Hadley asked.
