Andrea Kane (31 page)

“But the journal wasn’t proof—”

“The authorities require proof. The
ton
doesn’t.”

“What did you do?” Ariana asked woodenly.

“The only thing I could to protect my family. My father was dying.… The Kingsley name was his life. So I paid Baxter … fifty thousand pounds, to be exact … in exchange for the journal.” Trenton’s throat worked convulsively, and he shook his head in furious self-disgust. “I should have realized that wouldn’t be the end of it. Once the money was in his possession, he flourished the suicide note for the world to see. He couldn’t accuse me of murder, not without that journal, so instead he accused me of driving his sister to suicide. The effect was almost as severe.”

“Is that when you went to Baxter and begged?”

“Yes … for all the good it did me.”

“Your father died anyway.” Ariana dashed the anguished tears from her cheeks and took Trenton’s hands. “Oh, Trenton, I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.”

Trenton’s deep-rooted cynicism wavered beneath his wife’s unconditional faith. “Are you? Even though I uprooted your life, using Victoria’s edict as my ultimate retribution?”

“Yes. I can only imagine the pain you must have endured.”

Incredulously, Trenton shook his head. “Surely you must have doubts, questions?”

“I have many doubts … and I will address them very soon … with the person responsible for them. As for questions, I have only one.”

“Which is?” He steeled himself.

“Why have you punished yourself all these years? By hating my family, hating what they’d done, you’ve isolated yourself from the world, and from the wonderful man that you are. Neither Baxter nor Vanessa are worth that, Trenton. And from what I’ve heard of your father, I think he’d agree.” Ariana raised up on tiptoes to kiss the hard line of his jaw. “You didn’t kill your father, Trenton; you loved him. Love is a wondrous thing, enabling you to be strong when nothing else will.

“Let my love in,” she urged softly. “Don’t fight me. I’m not asking for your love in return … not yet. But don’t close yourself off from me, or from the man you are when we’re together. He’s really quite splendid.”

Trenton’s arms closed around her. “Keep loving me,” he demanded. “Help me, misty angel.”

Ariana buried her face against his chest, thanking the heavens for this first bittersweet victory.

Bracing herself for the battle that lay ahead.

B
AXTER TOSSED OFF HIS
brandy, contemplating his surprising dilemma. His plan to avail himself of the Kingsley fortune was proving even more difficult than he’d imagined. Allowing Ariana to wed the bastard had seemed the quickest way to get his hands on the duke’s extensive funds. Oh, Baxter had known what his main obstacle would be: Ariana’s bloody ethics. What he hadn’t counted on was his baby sister developing feelings for the contemptible blackguard.

Slamming his glass to the table, Baxter began pacing the length of the library. Everything he wanted seemed to dangle tauntingly before him, only to be perpetually snatched out of reach. And always by the same man: Trenton Kingsley.

Damn him to hell. First, he’d robbed Baxter of Vanessa, now of Ariana. Surely there had to be
some
equity in this world, enough to compensate Baxter for his perpetual losses.

Losses that were total now, leaving him not only alone, but utterly destitute.

The only compensation left was money.

Which brought him back to his original quandary: How could he gain Ariana’s cooperation?

He’d intended to ask her during her last visit, but they’d been sidetracked by that blasted note and journal. Plus, now that he realized she actually cared for the scoundrel, he’d have to try another approach. But what? Ariana didn’t have a dishonest bone in her body. She’d never agree to steal from her own husband. Even though, Lord knew, she was entitled to every penny. After all, she’d been forced to sacrifice her youth, her innocence, her entire future to the formidable Duke of Broddington.

What was it that women saw in him? Baxter wondered, coming to a halt. First Vanessa, now Ariana. The man’s luck with ladies was as staggering as his luck with money.

While Baxter had nothing.

Leaning his head wearily against the walnut bookshelves, Baxter sought a miracle.

“Hello, Baxter.”

The quiet, slightly husky voice was as familiar to him as his own name. Startled, he swerved about and gaped.

“I was waiting for Coolidge to go on holiday,” the apparition continued. “I couldn’t take any chances of being recognized.” She loosened the hood of her mantle, dropping it to her shoulders. Reveling in the freedom from confinement, she shook out her luxurious red hair. “I never realized how difficult it was to be dead.”

“Vanessa.” He crossed the room in three strides and enveloped her in his arms. “Lord, I’m glad to see you! What the hell are you doing here?”

Vanessa gave a rich, throaty laugh and embraced her brother. “A mixed welcome, to say the least. Did you honestly think I’d stay away once I received your telegram? I left France the moment I could. I’ve been staying at an inn outside London.”

Baxter blinked, still shocked by the reality that Vanessa was actually here. “The telegram. Yes. Thank heavens I saved that address you sent me. Given the circumstances, I thought you had a right to know what had happened. I never expected you’d actually return to England—” He interrupted himself. “An inn? Why didn’t you come here? How long have you been in Sussex?”

“A little over a week. And, as I said, I couldn’t risk coming to Winsham, not until you were alone. Besides”—she caressed his cheek absently—“I wanted to do a little snooping on my own. Being dead has its advantages.”

“What are you talking about?” Baxter caught Vanessa’s hands in his.

“I’ve missed England,” she murmured, an odd light coming into her eyes. “I should have returned long ago.”

“You couldn’t. The consequences would have been dire.”

With a hollow laugh, Vanessa pulled away, strolling idly about the room. “The consequences could not have been more dire than what I’ve endured.”

Baxter squinted, looking—really
looking
—at Vanessa for the first time. “You look peaked, Ness.”

“Peaked?” She spun about, tugging open her mantle and spreading her arms wide. “Look at me, Baxter. I’m old. My face is pale, I’m gaunt, my eyes are lifeless.”

“You’re a young woman, for heaven’s sake!”

“In years, perhaps. In fact,” she said, smiling wearily, “I’m a very old woman. The fates have seen to that. I’m here because this could be the last chance I have.”

“What did your husband do to you?” Baxter demanded.

“Henri? Exactly what he promised he’d do when I ran off with him … except that he did it alone: lived hard and fast, spent money recklessly, traveled all over the world. What he also neglected to mention was that it was
my
money he would be gambling with, traveling with, frittering away … since he had not a penny to his name.”

“What about the great wealth he boasted?”

“The joke was on me, Baxter. I married Henri, went with him to France, for all he could offer me: a title, money, prominence. What I soon discovered was that those were the very things he planned to take from me.”

“He had nothing?”

“Oh, he had a title, for whatever good that did me. But he was penniless and powerless. And soon, so was I.”

“Your letters said nothing of this.”

“My letters were written under my husband’s watchful eye. I didn’t dare tell you the truth, or …” She shuddered, that hollow look coming back into her eyes.

“What has he done to you, Ness?” Baxter whispered, frightened by the change in his vivacious sister.

Wordlessly, Vanessa unbuttoned the top of her gown, yanking down a sleeve to bare one severely bruised, scarred shoulder to her brother’s horrified eyes. “This is just a sample of what the past six years have held for me.” She rebuttoned the gown. “Trust me, you don’t want to see the rest.”

“Dear God.” All the color drained from Baxter’s face. “Why did you stay?”

“He told me he would kill me if I left; that even if I managed to escape him, he would find me, and torture me.”

“Then how did you get away?”

“I stopped caring. Even death would be preferable to the hell that was my life. Your telegram was the motivation I needed. And here I am.”

“Ness …” He held out his arms.

“I didn’t come for your pity, Baxter. I came for your help.”

“I’d move heaven and earth for you, and you know it,” he declared fervently.

She walked into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder. “You would, wouldn’t you? My wonderful, protective older brother. I’d forgotten how good it felt to be loved.”

“I want to break that bastard’s filthy neck. Where is he now?”

Vanessa shrugged. “With one of his mistresses, no doubt. I really don’t care.” Her chin set grimly. “All I know is that I’m not going back. Even if my plan fails … even if he comes after me … I’ll never go back.”

“I’ll kill him before I let him touch you,” Baxter bit out. Gently, he stroked her hair. “Your plan?” His sister’s words suddenly sank in. “What plan?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment.” She stepped back. “First you tell me about our sister and her advantageous marriage.”

Baxter frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I told you everything in the telegram. Kingsley showed up here with an edict from the Queen. He and Ariana were married almost a month ago.”

“So she is now the Duchess of Broddington.”

“Precisely.”

Vanessa threw back her head and laughed. “Ironic, isn’t it? That after all my carefully laid plans, it is my timid little mouse of a sister who acquires it all. My, how she must have changed.”

“Actually, Ariana is much the same; only older and lovelier.” He smiled. “She looks a lot like you, Ness.”

“Except that
she’s
the one married to Trenton Kingsley!”

“After all that’s happened, you still want him?”

“I don’t want any man, Baxter.” Vanessa turned away. “All I want is the vengeance that’s owed me.” She laced her fingers together. “When did you last speak to Ariana?”

“A fortnight ago. She’s with Kingsley on the Isle of Wight.”

Vanessa spun around. “They returned a week ago.”

“How do you know that?”

“I told you. I’ve done some discreet checking.” She smiled, a hard, cold smile. “Which leads me to my plan. A plan that I need your help with … and one that involves money; a lot of money … and a very discreet seamstress. Have I piqued your interest?”

Baxter’s eyes gleamed. “I’m all ears.”

“Baxter? Baxter, where are you?”

The angry voice and vibrating door echoed through the house and interrupted whatever Vanessa had been about to say.

“It’s Ariana.” Baxter lurched forward, seizing Vanessa’s elbows.

“She can’t find me at Winsham.” Vanessa paled, whirling about, seeking somewhere to hide.

“She can’t find you anywhere—she thinks you’re dead,” Baxter hissed back, already heading for the hallway. “You stay here. I’ll handle it.” He was out of the room in three strides, slamming the door shut behind him. “Sprite? Is that you?” He put as much distance between himself and the library as he could, before colliding with Ariana at the foot of the stairs.

“Where were you?” she demanded.

“What do you mean? I was in my study.”

“Why didn’t Coolidge answer the door?”

“He’s on holiday. Ariana, what is the matter with you?”

“We need to talk, Baxter. Her turquoise eyes were ablaze with the kind of anger Baxter had never seen her display.

“Of course. Come with me.” He led her down the hall, past the library, to the comfortable morning room. “I tried to reach you. Theresa said you and your”—Baxter swallowed hard—“husband … were in Wight.”

“We were. We’ve been back for a week.”

“I see.” Still reeling with the impact of Vanessa’s appearance, Baxter was having a difficult time comprehending the reason for Ariana’s rage.

But not for long.

“We’re going to talk about Trenton,” Ariana stated flatly, arms folded across her chest. “And about you. And about Vanessa.”

Baxter visibly started at the mention of Vanessa’s name. Ariana couldn’t know anything, could she? “What about us?” he managed.

“After I left Winsham two weeks ago, I read Vanessa’s journal.”

Relief, potent as brandy, surged through him. “Did you? And how did you talk your husband into showing it to you?”

“That’s not the issue, Baxter. The issue is that I now know everything our sister claimed happened between her and Trenton.”

“Claimed?”

“I’ve also spoken with my husband.” Baxter didn’t miss the emphatic possessiveness in her reference to Kingsley. “He told me everything.”

“Everything.” Baxter was “beginning to feel like a parrot. But for the life of him he couldn’t think of what to say.

“Yes. And now I’m here to
try
to understand how you could do such a thing. I know you’re greedy and self-centered, but for God’s sake, Baxter—”

“Wait just a bloody minute!” Baxter’s stupor vanished instantly. “Greedy? Self-centered? Whose words are those, Ariana: yours or
Trenton’s?”

“Mine. Do you think I don’t know what you are just because you’re my brother?”

“You never maligned my character before!”

“I never had reason to. Your weaknesses never affected me … until now.”

“I raised you from the time Mother and Father died—”

“I raised myself, Baxter. With Theresa’s help. You gave me the roof over my head and spent whatever money Mama and Papa left for me. So let’s say that I’ve more than paid you back for what you’ve given me and dispense with the theatrics, all right?”

Baxter’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he spoke. “He’s certainly turned you against me, hasn’t he?”

“I’m not against you. I only want to know the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Did you blackmail Trenton into paying you fifty thousand pounds for that journal? And did Richard Kingsley die as a result of vicious slander that you spread throughout the
ton?”

Baxter inhaled sharply, then sat. “And here I thought you were discovering new species of birds on the Isle.”