Andrea Kane (22 page)

“I’m well aware of that, Dustin,” she interrupted, pushing her nagging jealousy to the far recesses of her mind. “I’m not questioning the reasons for Trenton’s past relationships. But he’s so formidable, so menacing. Weren’t women afraid of him?”

“Ariana …” Dustin stared down at the small hand clasped in his. “Trent is not the same man he was years ago. Oh, he’s always been the intense sort, deeply passionate about what he believes in. But in his twenties he was more congenial, charming, sociable … with none of the bitterness you see now. His natural magnetism and self-assurance, combined with that overwhelming sense of power he emanates … No, Ariana, women weren’t afraid of him. Quite the contrary, actually.”

“What happened to change him?” Ariana persisted, fighting the jealousy that once again reared its ugly head.

A pained expression tightened Dustin’s face. “Our father died.”

Ariana leaned closer, feeling she was hovering at the brink of a crucial precipice. “You told me Trenton and your father were very close.”

“Very. Trenton ran all the family businesses and estates during the last years of Father’s life. He gave up much of his youth, his education, his dreams. He was the most bloody devoted son I’ve ever seen.”

“Was your father’s death sudden?”

Harsh memories slashed across Dustin’s face, drawing his mouth into a grim line of sorrow. “He had been weak for some time. But yes, his death was sudden.”

“Was it precipitated by the shock of what Trenton did to Vanessa?” Ariana blurted out.

Dustin flung her hand aside as if her touch burned. “What
Trenton
did to
Vanessa?
Hell. Ariana,Trenton did
nothing
to Vanessa. … It was very much the other way around!” Raking Ariana with condemning eyes, Dustin demanded, “Don’t you realize my brother could never have lived with himself if he’d actually caused Father’s death? As it is, he’s torn apart. I thought I knew you, Ariana, but it appears that I don’t. Not if you really believe what you just said.”

Dustin’s biting accusation pushed her over the edge.

Shattering into raw fragments, Ariana burst into tears, burying her face in her hands and shaking uncontrollably. “I don’t know what to believe,” she sobbed. “I’m so confused. … Help me, Dustin, I don’t know what to do. Please, help me.”

Regretfully, Dustin gathered her against him, pressing her head beneath his chin and stroking her back in soothing circles. “Shhh,” he murmured, feeling her tears drench his shirt. “Of course I’ll help you. Poor sweetheart, you don’t know truth from lies at this point, do you? I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to explode like that It’s not your fault; you’re too young to remember, too innocent to protect yourself. Don’t cry, little one, I’ll help you.”

“If my wife needs assistance, I’ll provide it.”

Ariana froze at the sound of Trenton’s frigid words, her heart hammering frantically in her chest. The aftermath of her husband’s violent assault still lingered on her lips, in her mind, and instinctively she burrowed closer to Dustin, seeking protection and comfort Simultaneously, she realized how compromising they must look, clasped in each other’s arms on the stable floor, clinging together as if they were involved in some sordid tryst.

She had no time to react before Trenton’s hand closed roughly on her arm, dragging her away from Dustin and to her feet. “Did you need something,
Wife?”

Ariana blanched beneath his blazing stare, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might snap.

“Trent … don’t!” Dustin rose swiftly, stunned by the raw fury he saw etched on his brother’s face—at the same time fully aware of its true cause. “Stop now before you do something you’ll regret!”

“Before
I
do something
I’ll
regret?” Trenton hurled back, his throat working convulsively. “I find my wife rolling around on the stable floor … with my brother, no less … and you want
me
to control
myself!”
His fingers bit into Ariana’s arm. “Did I come in at an inopportune moment?”

Ariana winced. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.

“Am I?” He released her abruptly and, without thinking, she took a reflexive step toward Dustin.

Thunder erupted in Trenton’s eyes. “Don’t push me, Ariana. I’m warning you, don’t push me.”

She turned to Dustin, white-faced.

“Go back to the house, sweetheart,” he told her, his disbelieving gaze on Trenton. “I want to have a talk with my brother.”

“Dustin,” she protested, “I …”

“Fear not, misty angel.” Trenton’s tone was caustic, savage. “I’ll restrain myself. … I won’t murder Dustin.”

Ariana stared at him, taking in his rage, his jealousy, the full impact of his power. Then, sick at heart, she heeded Dustin’s suggestion and left the stable.

“You really have lost your mind, haven’t you?” Dustin exploded the moment they were alone.

“You’ve noticed?” Trenton countered, kicking a pile of hay from his path.

“I’ve noticed a lot of things. It’s time you noticed them as well.”

“Are you referring to your feelings for my wife?”

“No … I’m referring to
your
feelings for your wife.”

Trenton’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “At this particular moment I’d like to throttle her. And if I’m correct, she fully expects me to do just that. Or worse.”

“I don’t blame her. You’re behaving like a ruthless maniac.”

“And you’re going to save her from me, is that it?”

Dustin snorted. “Enough of this idiotic drivel, Trent. We both know there’s nothing between Ariana and me.”

“Then what is this about?”

“It’s about the fact that you’re falling in love with your wife.”

Shock, undiluted and profound, registered on Trenton’s face, altering quickly back to rage. Had Dustin been less observant or less adept at reading his brother’s reactions, he would have missed the fraction of an instant that bridged the two emotions; an instant in which absolute raw panic dominated Trenton’s expression.

But Dustin was both observant and adept, so he just leaned casually against the wall, watching as Trenton slammed his fists against the stall door, shouting vehement denials, followed by a vivid stream of expletives.

“The idea is less than acceptable, I presume?” Dustin inquired cheerfully over the din of his brother’s bluster.

Trenton kicked the stall door wide and advanced furiously on Dustin. “Acceptable? It’s ludicrous! You know damned well why I married Ariana! She’s a Caldwell. The
last
Caldwell. And if by wrenching her away from Winsham I caused her brother endless suffering, it was worth the sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” Dustin cocked a brow in Trenton’s direction, entirely unbothered by the dark inferno stalking him.

Trenton came to an abrupt halt. “All right, perhaps
sacrifice
is too strong a word.”

“I should say so.” Dustin’s teeth gleamed in the semi-darkened stall. “Considering the amount of time you and your
sacrifice
spend in bed.”

“I’ve never denied wanting Ariana. She’s a beautiful woman. But what you’re seeing is lust, not love.”

“Is it?” Dustin grew serious. “I think not. Be honest with yourself, Trent. Aren’t your feelings for Ariana surprisingly intense, considering the enmity that instigated your marriage?”

“All my reactions to the Caldwells are intense.”

“I’m not discussing your animosity.”

Trenton’s anger hovered an instant longer, then ebbed into ambivalence. “She’s so damned innocent,” he muttered. “And she embraces life with such trusting faith. I suppose there’s a part of me that wants to shield her … from the demons of the past. …” His voice became low, his gaze haunted by indiscernible ghosts. “And from me.”

Regaining his composure, Trenton stared at his brother, his eyes glittering fiercely. “So what you’re observing is protectiveness and perhaps a little pity.”

“You’re not ready to see it, are you?” Dustin noted quietly, shaking his head. “Baxter Caldwell obviously did even more damage to you than he realized.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Trenton replied bitterly. “Nor am I certain that I’m capable of the kind of love you’re suggesting. But, even if I am, it could never be with the sister of—”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Trent: She’s not Vanessa.”

Trenton inhaled sharply. “I know that only too well.”

“Ariana’s not just different; she’s very special. And you’re too damned pigheaded to appreciate it.”

“That’s irrelevant. This war is not about Ariana.”

“But you’re using her as ammunition, which situates her right in the heart of the battle.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Trenton demanded. “That I let go of the past? We’ve been through this time and again, Dustin. I simply cannot do that. Tell Ariana the truth? Half the time I’m not even sure what that truth is. Furthermore, she’d never believe me … not after her enlightening afternoon at Winsham. So what option does that leave me?”

Dustin straightened. “Take Ariana away … as far away from the root of your hatred as possible.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain from Trenton’s body. “Away? … Where?”

“To Spraystone. You could put some distance between her and her fears, allow her to enjoy herself for a change. These past weeks haven’t exactly been easy ones for her. … First the Queen’s edict, and now your turbulent marriage.”

“Spraystone,” Trenton repeated thoughtfully. “I never considered taking her there. … It’s hardly a grand estate, the type the average young woman dreams of residing in.”

“There’s nothing average about Ariana.” Dustin’s grin returned. “Spraystone is plush with greenery, alive with birds and animals. Your bride would adore it.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Trenton interjected, scowling. “Ariana and I would be virtually alone. And at the moment, that thought would terrify her.”

“The Isle is far from uninhabited,” Dustin reminded him. “Introduce her to Princess Beatrice, let her meet the folks of Bembridge, teach her to sail. Bring along the croquet set, if it would make her feel more secure. Then she can throttle you with a mallet if you become too threatening.”

“Do you really believe she’d be pleased?” Trenton asked gruffly, ignoring Dustin’s jest.

“Try her.”

A pensive silence. “It
would
keep here away from her brother’s vicious claws.”

“Definitely.”

“And perhaps ease some of the burden she’s been forced to bear,” Trenton added, warming to the idea.

“Precisely.”

A suspicious look flitted across Trenton’s face. “Did you plan to join us?”

Dustin carefully schooled his features, desperately fighting the urge to laugh. “No, actually I’d best be getting back to Tyreham. My colt is being readied for the fall races at Newmarket. I’ll be needed.” He inclined his head. “That is, unless you’d
prefer
me to accompany you.”

“No.” The word erupted from Trenton’s mouth with the speed and force of a bullet. “Actually, what I’d
prefer
is for you to stay the hell away from my wife.”

Despite his best efforts, Dustin’s lips twitched. “Ah … I see. I suppose that could be arranged. Although, as you yourself pointed out, Ariana is an incredibly beautiful woman. She’s also intelligent and sensitive, and …”

“Dustin, I’m not finding you at all amusing.” Trenton’s voice exuded a clear warning.

“Jealous, Trent? Now that is surprising, considering the fact that emotions play no part in your marriage.”

“Dustin …”

Ignoring Trenton’s furious admonition, Dustin chuckled, patting his brother’s arm. “First thing in the morning, I’ll leave for Tyreham … and you and Ariana will leave for Spraystone. Now I would suggest you go tell your bride to pack.”

Trenton gazed soberly toward the house where Ariana had fled in order to escape his wrath. Lord alone knew what she was thinking, feeling. Shock and bewilderment, at best. And no one could alleviate that but him.

A
RIANA WAS STILL TREMBLING
when she curled up in the center of her bed. She wanted to bury herself in the thick quilt and block out the world, the day, her meeting with Baxter, everything.

Not to mention her husband’s violent, erratic behavior.

If she’d been frightened before, she was petrified now.

Trenton’s venom had been a tangible entity, powerful enough to—she forced herself to complete her thought—to kill.

Her mind drifted back to Vanessa’s letter. Was that the jealousy Trenton had demonstrated six years ago? Had that irrational, overwhelming possessiveness made her fear for her life?

Pressing her face into the pillow, Ariana battled the relentless images that slashed through her mind. Twice she’d fallen victim to Trenton’s out-of-control jealousy: first, yesterday when he’d stormed across Broddington’s front lawn, accusation blazing in his eyes after her croquet lesson with Dustin. And then again, just now in the stables.

Did he actually believe she and Dustin would deceive him?

Ariana’s hands balled into defensive fists, leaving deep impressions in the soft feather pillow.

She could understand, if not condone, Trenton’s lack of faith in her. She was his wife, yes, but still a veritable stranger, intimate in bed, but not in fact. He’d had no occasion to discover that, unlike her brother, she possessed a fierce sense of loyalty and an unbreachable set of principles. In Trenton’s mind, she was simply a Caldwell: devoid of value, unworthy of trust.

But Dustin? Did Trenton truly believe his brother would
ever
deceive him, let alone disgrace him in his own home? The very concept was untenable. Surely Trenton must know that.

A gnawing possibility emerged, rearing its ugly head in Ariana’s mind. Could it be, just as Baxter had said, that Trenton was genuinely unable to retain any degree of reason when it came to what he considered his possessions—a category in which she now very much fell? Under certain circumstances, was he beyond rational thought even when the supposed indiscretion involved his own brother?

That question brought her thinking back to Dustin: Dustin who had been nothing but wonderful to her … until she’d implied that Trenton could be guilty of killing Vanessa. Then, from a warm and sensitive friend, Dustin had been instantly transformed into an angry and scornful stranger.