How odd . . . to be happier for her sister’s wedding than for her own.
Lady Hadley had been the one to propose joint nuptials. “We have already prepared so much for Catriona’s wedding. Why not celebrate Isolde at the same time?”
Catriona’s eyes had lit with delight. “Oh! I should adore that!”
Lady Hadley had exchanged another of those sad smiles with Isolde over Catriona’s head.
But Isolde had understood what her mother left unsaid.
It was difficult enough for Isolde to marry Kendall—marry Kendall!—but to have to smile and pretend cheer for the well-wishers in attendance . . .
Or worse, endure comfort and pity, as if the event were more funeral than wedding.
Lady Hadley was resigned to Isolde’s marriage. As the daughter of a powerful English duke, her mother understood the rules of their world better than most.
Her father, however . . .
“I can think of no one I would like ye tae marry less than Kendall,” he said, relaxing into the sofa beside her. Isolde feared that additional gray had appeared overnight in his hair and whiskers. Her poor father had aged a decade in mere weeks. “Are ye sure there isn’t a footman inthe house ye fancy more? Anyone at all ye could elope with? It breaks me tae think of ye tethered to a blackguard like Kendall, Izzy. I willnae . . .” His voice broke. “He’s powerful, and I willnae be able tae protect ye. He will own yourself, and I fear—”
“Hush, Papa.” Isolde placed her hand over his. “All will be well. I know I tend to act rashly, but I have carefully weighed all other outcomes. For myself and His Grace. For our family and Catriona. This course is the correct one.”
Granted, Isolde had received some encouragement in her decision.
Every day since Isolde’s betrothal, Allie had called at Hadley’s townhouse, and more than once, their conversations had devolved to her twin.
“I know I am repeating myself,” Allie had said just two days past, “but a caring heart rests beneath Tristan’s stern exterior. He was the brother who would hug me close until the terror of a nightmare faded. The one who would read me stories when I was unwell. He merely needs to remember the person he once was. I think you will help him rediscover that boy.”
“Do ye ken that tae be possible? He so greatly dislikes myself.”
“Give him time.” Allie hugged her tight. “And remember: We shall be sisters! Can you imagine? You shall have to visit often.”
The thought of Allie as a sister cheered Isolde immeasurably.
She recounted details of her conversation with Allie for her father, ending with, “No one knows Kendall better than Lady Allegra, and she assures me he has an honorable heart—”
“Oh, Izzy,” her father choked. “Do not assume it ishonorthat drove Kendall tae offer for your hand. He has tae marry ye, or face the wrath of Lords.”
“Papa, ye ken that isn’t entirely true. His Grace has made an effort tae visit me and take tea with myself and Mamma.” Kendall had remained reticent and stoic throughout, watching her intently with his dark eyes. But hehadvisited. “Those actions are not selfish in nature. Kendall does take care tae be seen as a gentleman.”
“To be seen,” her father repeated. “That is the key phrase there. What Kendall does behind closed doors, where actions are not seen, however . . .”He drifted off ominously, face twisting in misery. “Please, Izzy. I can name other solutions beyond this one.”
He was correct, of course.
But Isolde knew this was the only choice that saved the family honor. That would see her brothers and sisters well-married. That would gain her father an ally in Kendall, rather than an enemy. After all, now the men were tied by blood, and any missiles they figuratively launched at each other would potentially harm the children of Isolde’s union.
Her marriage was the only way to bring peace.
Jarvis’s trial for fraud was already underway. The jury would likely hand down a verdict within the next few days. Her father’s impeachment still hung on a knife’s edge. Mac had confided earlier that a vote in Commons could go either way.
“I ken that, Papa, I do. But I am choosing this path,” she replied firmly, pushing back her own misgivings. “And ye have ensured my future is well-guarded.”
That was true.
Hadley had been ruthless with the marriage contracts.
“I have,” he agreed, swirling his whisky. “Your dowry is ample; however, Kendall receives none of it outright. Everything will go to yourself and your . . . children.”
Her poor father nearly choked on the wordchildren.
