“Do I?” Kendall gave him a wan smile. “Are you calling into question my honor as a gentleman?”
The thread of menace in Kendall’s wordshadto be clear. More than one lethal duel had its origins in conversations similar to this.
Not that Kendall would ever stoop to dueling the likes of Hadley. Such melodramatic exhibitionism was well beneath the purview of a Duke of Kendall.
“Nae, it’s not your status as agentlemanI call into question, Your Grace.” Hadley said the words blithely enough, but his unspoken intention was clear—Kendall was either a liar or an imbecile.
Kendall mimicked the earls’ nonchalant stand. “You only wish a cease-fire because you know I am right. That you have been dishonest with your fellow Peers, and now you fear the consequences.”
That muscle in Hadley’s jaw twitched. “As I alluded earlier, my family and I are finding your spurious accusations challenging for a number of reasons. None of which I need tae explain to yourself, Duke.”
“Hah! You, rightly, worry that a cell in Newgate might—”
“Andrew! There ye be!”
Both men turned as Sir Rafe Gordon bounded down the church steps to them.
Kendall forced his hands to not clench into fists.
“Kendall.” Sir Rafe tipped his hat. “Pleasure tae see ye again.”
Kendall said nothing in return. His half-brother was the very last person he ever wished to encounter—particularly not on the steps of a house of worship—and he therefore took no pleasure in the occasion.
It was bizarre, at times, seeing this man. Sir Rafe looked uncannily like Old Kendall—long-limbed, gray-haired, keen-eyed. But where their sire had emanated cruelty and disdain, Sir Rafe exuded warmth, kindness, and . . . Kendall searched for the right word . . . contentment.
How their father had sired and reared such a man—living together at Hawthorn for nearly three decades as they had—Kendall would never understand. On the surface, Sir Rafe appeared to be the antithesis of their father.
However, Kendall haddoubts as to the sincerity of Sir Rafe’s altruistic demeanor. Past events spoke to a streak of heedless apathy within the man.
“Rafe,” Hadley nodded to his friend. “Kendall’s being obstinate, as usual.” The earl’s words sounded like a complaint, the way one might telltale to a parent.
Sir Rafe looked to Kendall, his eyes widening as a parent’s would. “Is that so?”
“Aye. He won’t listen tae reason.”
“Och, I think you’re being a wee bit too hard on the lad, Andrew.”
Kendall disliked his brother even more for his defense. It was an olive branch offeredfartoo late.
Andlad?! He was nearly thirty, for heaven’s sake.
“If you gentleman will excuse me, I have matters to attend.” Kendall gave the most cursory of nods, pivoted, and walked away.
He thought he may have heard Sir Rafe call after him, but the clatter of carriage wheels on the flagstone street drowned out the sound.
The encounter with Hadley revealed two indisputable facts.
First, Hadley was worried, as he knew there was some truth behind Kendall’s claims.
And second, Kendall was winning their war. Hadley would not have approached him otherwise.
Instead of backing down, Kendall needed to step up his attacks.
He would speak with Ledger tomorrow about contacting certain newspaper editors he knew to be sympathetic.
All of Britain would hear of Hadley’s perfidy.
Four days later, to Kendall’s approval, theTimesran a scathing article about Lord Hadley.
