However, Kendall knew Lord John did not approve of Hadley’s more outlandish policies and ideas, specifically the education of his daughter at Broadhurst College. But being Prime Ministerandleader of the House of Commons—Lord John was not a titled Peer himself and therefore did not have a seat in Lords—his support was invaluable to win.
“Truly?” Kendall’s brow furrowed. “I found our discussion encouraging.”
The carriage rocked as it merged into traffic, causing his shoulder to bump against the window at his side.
“Lord John is a seasoned politician, Tristan. He was very careful not to tip his hand.”
Kendall huffed out a breath. “Though I do not wish to be rude, Sister, you do not understand British politics. Another week, and I anticipate having the votes needed in Commons to impeach Hadley and thereby force a trial in Lords.”
Triumph was close. Kendall could feel it rising in his chest, taste its electric thrill on the back of his tongue.
The carriage rumbled around a corner. A group of young bucks, soused and staggering, called something unintelligible from the pavement.
“But why?” Gaslight from street lamps filtered through the window,mottling Allie’s face. “You currently risk isolating yourself within thetonand—”
“I am Kendall.” He fixed her with a stern look. “I was isolated the moment I was born. To be a Duke of the Realm is to live above and apart from others.”
“That is our father speaking.”
“No, it is truth. I made no friends during my time at Oxford. Other gentlemen made merry, played cricket, and took ladies rowing along the Thames. No one knocked on my door with an invitation to join them. My arrival was always met with silence and staring until I took myself off again.”
“Perhaps,” Allie conceded. “You can be rather prickly at times.”
Kendall looked out the window, noting the dark shop windows rolling past, breathing through the ache that lingered when he thought of Oxford.
Most gentlemen made lifelong friends at university. It was where the bonds that built an empire were formed.
But every effort Kendall had made—which admittedly had not been many—ended in futility. In short, he was not a particularly likable chap.
His sister sighed.
“Love was in short supply for both of us growing up,” she said. “It has rather stunted our abilities to relate to others as adults. It is why you cannot maintain a civil conversation with Lady Isolde, and yet clearly wish to kiss her at the same time.”
Kendall gaped at his sister for a solid ten seconds.
He knew because he counted them.
“What did you say?” The words left his mouth on a whispered rush of air. His emotions abruptly sailed past the islands of Irritation and Fury and landed on Incandescent Astonishment.
“Kissing,” Allie chirped. “You and Isolde.”
The wordkissingassaulted his mind like cannon fire. Images exploded with each beat of his heart.
Boom. The press of his lips to that shadowed place beneath Lady Isolde’s ear.
Boom. The lift in her body, hungrily rising to meet his mouth.
Boom. The feel of her waist as he pulled her against his chest.
Kendall could scarcely breathe through the onslaught.
“You are not denying it, Tristan. You fancy her. All your rage and protestation—” Allie swirled her index finger, indicating his person. “—is mere pretense. You are desperately attracted to her but too mired in ideas of tradition and revenge to act on that attraction. Hence all the growling and anger.” She tapped her chin. “I cannot imagine it is healthy for your—”
“Are youquitedone?” he interrupted, voice arctic and chilly.
“No,” his sister answered breezily. “I will never be done until I see more of the kind, loving twin I knew as a child.”
“Our bastard of a sire effectively erased that soft boy two decades ago.” When Tristan had lost his mother and twin sister—the only two people to ever show him genuine affection—in one horrid blow. “Such events change a person forever.”
