Free Andrea Kane by Echoes in the Mist Page A

times in the last fourteen years Trenton Kingsley had bested him, Baxter’s mouth twisted sardonically. Their long and disagreeable history had started in 1859, when they were both still in their teens. Baxter’s parents had just died, leaving him guardian of his sisters and overseer of Winsham, while Richard Kingsley’s deteriorating health had forced Trenton to assume the running of the Kingsley estates and numerous family businesses.
    They met in London through a mutual business associate and, though never friends, they had, at first, felt a grudging respect for each other.
    The respect had rapidly dissipated.
    Their first business clash should have served as an omen to Baxter of what lay ahead, the defeats he would suffer at Kingsley’s hands. Outbidding Baxter for a minor ownership stake in Bryant’s and May’s small manufacturing firm in Tooley Street, Trenton saw his investment multiply tenfold in value when the company, utilizing Kingsley funds, developed an award-winning line of revolutionary safety matches.
    Trenton prospered and Baxter seethed.
    After that, it seemed their paths crossed constantly; every venture Baxter pursued found Trenton one step ahead, every bloody wager they placed Trenton won, every woman Baxter coveted preferred Trenton’s bed.
    The bastard’s luck never seemed to run out.
    Even with Vanessa.
    Baxter lowered his head, determined to submerge memories long since buried away. What was done was done. Vanessa was gone, and no amount of vengeance could bring her back. All thanks to Trenton Kingsley. He’d robbed Baxter of everything: his dignity, his money, his sister.
    All but Ariana.
    And now he thought to strip Baxter of her as well, to emerge the victor once again?
    Not this time.
    Baxter pressed his clenched fists to the desk, evaluating the implications of the day’s startling event. A royal edict commanding Ariana to become the Duchess of Broddington. He still couldn’t get over that interesting twist of fate. He had planned to use Ariana’s beauty to attract a husband, one whose wealth would be sufficient to recoup his losses. At the same time, he had yearned to punish Kingsley for his final ruinous act: severing Baxter’s betrothal to Suzanne Covington and leaving the Caldwells destitute. And here fate had presented Baxter with the perfect opportunity to combine both his fondest wishes into one ultimate revenge.
    Ariana might become Trenton’s by law, but, ceremony or not, she would always be a Caldwell. Baxter could count on that. Yes, he would have his money … and Trenton Kingsley would be the one to restore it to him.
    A fitting finale for a vehement enmity.
    Baxter’s thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock.
    “Yes?”
    Ariana opened the door and entered. “Baxter … we need to talk.”
    A slice of guilt cut through him at the sight of her wet, spiky lashes and flushed cheeks. He forced the feeling away. “Of course, sprite. Come in.”
    Ariana crossed the room and stood before her brother, raising her chin to see his face, mincing no words. “Tell me again about Vanessa’s death.”
    A dark cloud crossed Baxter’s face and, abruptly, he turned away.
    “Please, Baxter … I need to know.”
    “You already know everything,” he replied, his head down. “I’ve recounted that hateful day dozens of times. There is nothing left to say on the subject.”
    “I’m being forced to marry the man you believe killed our sister!” Ariana burst out. “Of course there is more to say!”
    Baxter kept his back to her. “There was no proof of Kingsley’s guilt,” he said evenly, staring intently at the oriental rug. “Besides, Vanessa’s … accident happened six years ago. It has nothing to do with your marriage. You’re quite safe, sprite, believe me.”
    Ariana crushed the folds of her gown between trembling fingers. “Is there truly nothing you can do to prevent this marriage? Or merely nothing you wish to do?”
    Baxter swerved to face her, his brows