—editorial inThe London Tattler
Kendall found Lady Isolde’s reply to his latest fusillade waiting atop his bedside table the next night.
Blast his twin and her eagerness to assist her friend.
He unfolded the foolscap with an angry flick of his fingers, bracing himself for the swooping curlicues of Lady Isolde’s handwriting as it set forth her asinine requests.
She did not disappoint.
Aslogosandethoshave seemingly failed to sway you, I call uponPathosand appeal to your decency as a human being. Do you think, Your Grace, that you could find a beating heart within your ducal chest? I know you dislike my father and myself. But your actions do not injure us alone. As you may know, my younger sister, Lady Catriona, is betrothed to Lord Barnaby, Alderton’s heir. They are a love match and deeply suited to one another. Your spurious accusations have rendered Lord Alderton wary of a union between our families.
Kendall snorted.
Good. Excellent.
Aldertonshouldbe wary of uniting his line with the ilk of Hadley and his brood.
These past two weeks, I have watched my beloved sister grow listless and melancholic as she fears her marriage will be called off. I beg you, Your Grace: Have a heart. Consider the tearful innocents who are currently caught in the artillery barrage you have launched upon our family. Lady Allegra insists you are not a man like your father—cruel, tyrannical, and pitiless. That you possess scruples and a soul. I value your sister’s opinions, but I have yet to see evidence of her claims. Consider seizing this opportunity to prove that you are cut of a different cloth than your sire.
Kendall crumpled the note in his fist, a growl in his throat.
He successfully quashed the gnat-sized buzz of conscience that pointed out the truth in Lady Isolde’s words. That he was, perhaps, ruining the prospects of a blameless young lady.
It explained Hadley’s confrontation in front of the church.
That said, howdareLady Isolde compare him to his father! Her characterization of Old Kendall was entirely accurate. He had been a viciously callous man focused on his own selfish needs.
Unlike that bastard, Kendall had the good of Queen and Country at the forefront of his thoughts. Hedidconsider others, specifically the world into which his future children would be born. He did not wish hisson to suffer the stench of a sire’s behavior. His son would be proud to call himfather.
But in order to reach that goal, occasional . . . . mmm, notruthlessness. . .complications, perhaps? . . . arose. Such was the nature of all ruling power. Inevitably, some innocents would find themselves on the wrong side of the fight. That had always been the nature of war.
If Hadley—and by extension, Lady Isolde—wished to protect Lady Catriona, they should have behaved in a more civilized manner. Hadley should not have joined Jarvis in defrauding innocent investors. In all truth, the earl should not have permitted Lady Isolde to pursue university studies in the United States in the first place. And Lady Isolde, alone in Boston, should not have begun a relationship with Stephen Jarvis,kissinga married man and then dragging her father into Jarvis’s financial schemes.
The actions of Hadley and his daughter created the mire in which they floundered. They had no one to blame but themselves.
Kendall was merely the messenger. The solitary hero brave enough to stand up to Hadley’s economic might and insist the earl answer for his behavior.
Like an engine, Kendall’s efforts to amass votes for Hadley’s impeachment required the proper amount of stoking. But once it gained a full head of steam, the forward momentum of the whole would propel Kendall to victory.
He could practically taste his triumph.
This week, Lord John Russell had asked Kendall for his opinions on the proposed Turnpike Act. Even better, Allie and Kendall were to dine with the Russells in two days’ time.
When he looked to the future, Kendall saw more of the same—more veneration, more power, more accolades. All things which would push the memory of his father into history’s background.
Yes, his path forward was bright and clear.
Kendall could not wait to traverse it.
“You need tocall off your dogs, Tristan.” Allie slumped against the squabs opposite him in the ducal carriage.
“My dogs?” Kendall replied dryly, rapping the ceiling to tell the coachman to begin driving.
“Yes, your minions in Commons who are howling for Hadley’s impeachment. I don’t think Lord John is enamored of the idea.”
He and Allie were returning home after dining with Lord John Russell and his wife. Kendall had taken the opportunity to finally broach the topic of the charges against Hadley with the man.
Lord John had been hesitant to take sides.
