Hours later, Isolde watched her father pace before the hearth of the drawing-room in their Mayfair townhouse.
Lady Hadley sat between Mariah and Catriona on a sofa to the right, studying her husband with concern. Mariah remained wide-eyed, but Catriona dabbed at her cheeks every few minutes with a sodden handkerchief.
Macand James sat in two chairs opposite them.
Uncle Rafe stood beside the hearth, a shoulder leaning into the mantel.
Seated in a chair facing them all, Isolde had never felt so wretched. A tingling numbness had begun to spread from her fingertips to her scalp, rendering her lightheaded and nauseous.
Shortly after her arrival at Broadhurst College, Isolde and her chaperone had stumbled across a den of ribbon snakes in the woods. Dozens of serpents slithering into a Gordian knot of astonishing size.
Now, a similar tangle of fearsome creatures had taken up residence in Isolde’s abdomen, coiling around her stomach and twisting through her entrails.
“What is tae be done then, Pa?” Mac asked.
Catriona sniffed, stifling a sob.
Lord Alderton had made his position clear: Isolde’s disgrace was a Lucifer match to a powder barrel—the spark that destroys the whole. His lordship would not permit an alliance between his heir and the family of a compromised lady.
Isolde feared she already knew the answer to Mac’s question. The writhing tightened in her gut.
“Aye,” James nodded. “Do ye ken Isolde will have tae marry Kendall?” Her brother shot her an apologetic look.
“As I keep saying,” Hadley said, his pacing unbroken, “I willnae permit any alliance between our house and that monster.”
It was telling of her father’s distress that his accent had slipped into that of his youth.
“But, Kendall didn’t kidnap Isolde in the end. The gentleman is innocent,” Uncle Rafe said. “This is merely a most unfortunate accident.”
“That . . . that—” Hadley paused, clearly searching for an epithet he could use in the presence of his wife and daughters. “—scoundrelis anything but innocent. He would confine us all to Newgate if given the opportunity. Dinnae assign any modicum of conscience or goodness tae your brother, Rafe. Ye of all people know what the duke is capable of.”
That isn’t quite true, Isolde wanted to say.
Yes, the duke’s actions with regard to her father’s impeachment were reprehensible, but Kendall was not merely one side of a coin.
Hehad been kind, even in the face of their captivity.
Or, if notkindprecisely, at least . . . accommodating.
Her gaze caught Rafe’s and read the same sentiment there.
ThisDuke of Kendall, for all his faults, was not a man like his father.
“But if Isolde doesn’t marry Kendall, Alderton won’t permit . . .” Mac trailed off, his gaze turning to Catriona.
“Och, I will pay Barnaby to elope with Cat to Scotland,” Hadley said. “They are both of age and can marry without a guardian’s permission.”
“Andrew,” Rafe said, reproach in his tone, “ye ken that Barnaby won’t defy his father.”
“Then he isnae worthy of my daughter!” Hadley snapped.
Catriona sagged into their mother, shoulders heaving in silent tears.
Isolde merely breathed through the coils banding her chest.
Slowly, over the past several hours, she had unraveled the sequence of events that had occurred while she was locked away with Kendall.
Fiona had been bewildered when Isolde disappeared. The maid had witnessed Isolde exchange heated words with Kendall, sat on the bench as directed, and petted a cat. But when she looked up again, Isolde and Kendall were gone. Fiona had waited for ages for Isolde to reappear, but eventually the maid had returned to the carriage and Michael the groom, reporting what had happened. After all, Fiona had overheard His Grace state that his victory over their family was imminent.
