Free Andrea Kane by Echoes in the Mist Page B

arched in surprise. “You’ve changed, little one. You never used to be so outspoken.”
    “My future was never at stake.”
    He nodded. “All right, then. Both. There is truly nothing I can do and also nothing I wish to do. The Queen has always been partial to the Kingsley family. Lord alone knows why.”
    Ariana drew in a sharp breath. “Her edict is binding. But so is marriage, Baxter. So why is there nothing you wish to do?”
    Reaching out, he fingered one of her tousled curls. “You will have everything you could ever want, sprite. Everything I can no longer give you.” He saw the look in her eyes and hastily added, “Aside from your romantic notion of love, that is. And as much as you believe otherwise, I hold not a shred of hope that true love actually exists. Therefore, this marriage affords you more than any other I could have arranged.”
    “And what exactly does it afford me?” she demanded in a choked voice. “Our family’s most loathsome enemy, possibly a murderer, as my husband?”
    Baxter’s jaw set. “He won’t lay a hand on you. I guarantee it. He wouldn’t dare … not after what happened with Vanessa. Remember, Ariana, all of England knew the questionable circumstances surrounding our sister’s death. Rampant whispers circulated throughout the ton labeling Kingsley a murderer. A scandal of that magnitude may lie dormant, but it is never truly forgotten. Should Kingsley do anything to further defame his character, it would totally decimate his beloved family name… something he would rather die than risk.”
    Ariana searched his face. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
    “Yes,” he answered without hesitation.
    She nodded, resigned and, in some small way, relieved. “Thank you for that. At least I know you would only compromise my happiness for money. Not my life.”
    “Good Lord, Ariana!” Baxter’s fingers bit into her arms, willing her to understand. “What kind of an ogre do you think I am?”
    She smiled faintly. “I don’t think you’re an ogre, Baxter. In fact, perhaps I understand you better than you understand yourself.” She extricated herself from his grasp, walking slowly away. “I shall begin plans for my wedding.” Closing the door behind her, Ariana leaned back against the wall, loneliness clogging her throat. With a wave of intuition, she wondered where she mattered less: here, or at Broddington.
    “A wife? Christ, Trenton, when did this happen?”
    Dustin Kingsley bolted to his feet, gaping at his older brother who lounged casually in one of Tyreham’s deeply tufted library chairs, a library the two brothers had designed.
    Trenton shrugged. “Today.”
    “Today,” Dustin repeated inanely. In a customary gesture of agitation, he smoothed his thumb and forefinger over the tapered curve of his mustache, all the while studying Trenton’s face. “All right, Brother. Now tell me the rest of the story.”
    “The rest of the story?” Trenton’s expression was the picture of innocence.
    Dustin’s midnight-blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “This is me you’re talking to, Trent. No one knows you better than I. You’ve stayed away from Sussex for six years. Suddenly, during my last visit to Spraystone, you announced that you would be returning for the sole purpose of severing Baxter Caldwell’s betrothal. Which you did. You never mentioned a betrothal of your own. Now, like a bolt from the blue, you’re to be wed? Who is she, and why are you marrying her?”
    Trenton chuckled, crossing one impeccably tailored leg over the other. “So much for subtlety, I see. Very well.” He leaned back, deceptively nonchalant. “Her name is Ariana, and I’m marrying her because she’s Baxter Caldwell’s little sister.”
    Dustin’s jaw dropped. “Have you lost your bloody mind?”
    “Years ago.”
    “Trent, what the hell are you doing?” Dustin demanded.
    “Satisfying a debt to our father.”
    “By marrying Caldwell’s sister? Didn’t you learn