Uncontrollable.
Yes.
That was it.
The emotions Lady Isolde awakened in him were simply too much. They were messy and difficult, and he could not control them. If he gave into them, she wouldrulehim, body and soul.
And Tristan Gilbert, Duke of Kendall, hated relinquishing control.
“I recognize that love has been scarce in your life up to now, Brother,” Allie continued. “But there is still time to learn to love and be loved in return.”
Aggravation flared at her words.
“I know how to l-love, Allie.” He glowered at his sister.
“I do not doubt that you love me.” She stood and crossed to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I think that sometimes you could use help in showing it a bit more. Moreover, I am not entirely sure you seeyourselfas lovable.”
Kendall flinched, the truth of Allie’s words landing with a nearly audible thwack against his psyche. “What isthatsupposed to m-mean?”
“Just something I wonder. That perhaps you equate political power—admiration and deference—with love because it is the only way you can conceive of people liking you for yourself.”
Kendall gaped up at her.
“Think upon it,” she called as she exited the room.
He had no intention of thinking upon anything.
He wished to remain drunk and mourn the loss of the life he had spent the last decade cultivating.
He wanted—
Kendall paused, looking at his trousers.
With a trembling hand, he removed a long strand of glimmering auburn hair from his thigh.
The solitary hair felt indicative of this debacle. Of all the ways Lady Isolde invaded his thoughts, weakening his will until the whole crumbled.
With a grimace, he dropped the hair onto the carpet.
The only silver lining he could see?
Old Kendall was likely looking up from Hell, apoplectic that his heir would have to offer the role of Duchess of Kendall to one of Lord Hadley’s offspring.
Kendall hoped his sire choked on the horror of it.
13
SCANDAL ROCKS KENDALL! Dedicated readers of this publication will know that the Dukedom of Kendall is no stranger to scandal. The previous duke’s bigamy trial appalled Polite Society thirty years past. And now his son has shocked a new generation with his own flagrant behavior, spending a night closeted with Lady Isolde Langston. We can only hope that, for their families’ sake, a marriage between the two lovers is imminent.
—article inThe London Tattler
The next morning, Kendall presented himself on the stoop of Hadley’s townhouse—dread roiling his stomach and an unrelenting demon pounding against his temples.
His mind felt detached from his body. Someone else’s hand gave his hat to Hadley’s butler. Someone else followed the man into Hadley’sstudy. And it was a stranger who stared at Hadley standing grim and furious behind an enormous oak desk similar to Kendall’s own.
Only then, did Kendall note the other man in the room—Sir Rafe.
It took all of Kendall’s breeding not to recoil.
