“More like your hoydenish behavior.”
“And so ye abduct me . . . why? Tae what end? Hold me for ransom? Blackmail?”
“You act as if those accusing me of such actions will be thinking rationally. The impeachment vote against your father looms large. Every faction in Parliament will use the ammunition at hand to malign their opposition, even a trumped up abduction charge.”
“Are ye sure we’re still speaking hypothetically, Your Grace? Ye appear tae have given my abduction quite a bit of thought.”
Isolde had the deep satisfaction of watching Kendall turn to look at the door and suck in a deep breath, as if reining in his temper. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down the olive skin of his throat.
He was slowly unraveling—neckcloth loosening, night whiskers stubbling his chin. His gray hair had belligerently escaped its pomade, and it now slumped around his ears and curled onto his temples. In short, he appeared more Italian by the minute.
With agitated hands, he jerked his pocket-watch free, checking the time again.
Only ten minutes had passed.
“I need out of here,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and mussing it further. He appeared nearly haggard.
Isolde felt a pang for his distress.
“My father will come,” she said. “He would turn the world over tae find me. Never fear. We shall be rescued.”
“Yes, but what will be the outcome of that rescue?” he nearly snarled.
Isolde did not misunderstand his meaning.
If they were caught here by the wrong person—a gossip, perhaps, with sufficient societal clout to cause waves—they would be forced to marry.
The thought rendered Isolde nauseous.
“Hadley is discreet. He wants a . . . a”—her tongue stumbled over forming the syllables—“marriagebetween us even less than yourself.”
Kendall snorted. “I sincerely doubt that is possible.”
Isolde narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the sting of his remark. “Well, ye will simply have tae take my word for it then. Besides, it is significantly more likely a servant of Kew will find us first, do ye not agree?”
In answer, the duke pinched the bridge of his nose once again and remained incredibly still for a frighteningly long time.
11
You are dearly missed, my Izzy. Your mother and I breathlessly await your return. Never doubt our love for you.
—private letter from Lord Hadley to Lady Isolde Langston at Broadhurst College, Boston
My father will come.
Even hours on, Lady Isolde’s words taunted Kendall.
What would it be like to be so arrogantly confident in others’ affection? To simplyknowthat you were loved?
The worst part? Kendall did not doubt Lady Isolde’s words. Hadleywouldcome for her.
Kendall could give a treatise on the earl’s faults—and heaven knew he had on multiple occasions—but he could not disparage the way Hadley openly adored and cared for his wife and children.
As for Kendall, it would be days before anyone missed him. His coachman would have returned to Gilbert House by now, assumingKendall had traveled home by other means. Allie might wonder where he had gone, but he doubted his twin would become concerned too quickly. She would merely surmise he had chosen to stay at his club for the night.
And even once people realized he was truly missing, they wouldn’t be genuinely worried, supposing he would return home when ready.
In short, it was a rather dispiriting revelation, though hardly a surprising one.
