Andrea Kane (43 page)

Free.

Instantly, Trenton stiffened, and he spun about to face Dustin, his expression lethal. “If Ariana needed to disguise the truth in her letter, it means her bastard of a brother forced her to write it. And
that
means he’s keeping her at Winsham against her will.” Trenton inhaled sharply, realization striking with the force of a tidal wave. “I’ll kill him.”

Dustin’s brow furrowed as he once again tried to make the pieces fit. “That’s what I don’t understand: Why would Baxter force Ariana to write that letter?”

“Now
you’re
the one who’s being obtuse, Dustin. Think about it: If Ariana stays at Winsham, if she convinces me that I am, indeed, mad and unfit to live with, what would happen?”

“You’d probably do as she begs you to do.”

“Exactly. I’d commit myself to an asylum. Leaving my poor, abused bride alone, at Winsham … with my money.” Trenton’s eyes blazed cobalt fire.

“With your money
and
her greedy brother …” Dustin clarified, comprehension dawning. “So Baxter
is
the one behind your eerie visual escapades these past weeks!”

“That filthy son of a bitch!” Trenton was already out the door and halfway to the stairs.

“Wait! I’ll go with you!” Dustin raced after him.

“No.” Trenton stopped in his tracks, venom glittering in his eyes. “This is between Caldwell and me. That bastard robbed me of my father, my life, my self-worth, and now, nearly my sanity. At long last the past has come full circle.” Trenton took the stairs two at a time, pausing only when he’d reached the bottom. “I don’t give a damn what that blackguard’s done to me, but God help him if he’s laid a hand on Ariana. Because if he has, everything he accused me of six years ago will come to pass.… “And I really will be guilty of murder.”

“Ariana, you really should eat something, darling.” Vanessa finished her last mouthful of roast duck and dabbed lightly at her mouth with a linen napkin. “I realize the atmosphere isn’t all it could be, but as you know I’m restricted to these quarters for most of the day. Detection would be highly ill-advised, I’m afraid.” She sipped at her coffee. “But that doesn’t mean I should starve.”

“Why am
I
being confined?” Ariana demanded, ignoring her lunch and pacing the room.

“Because, baby sister, we have to await your beloved husband’s reaction. If he concedes to your demands like a good, docile little boy, you are free to move about Winsham as you wish. If, however, he attempts to burst in here in some cavalier attempt to win you back, it wouldn’t do to have you speak with him. Sadly, you are a very poor liar. So, for your own protection … as well as your husband’s”—the unspoken threat hung heavily between them—“Baxter will handle the duke and tell him you don’t wish to see him. Once Trenton departs, you can leave the servants’ quarters and return to your old bedroom. Actually, you are far more fortunate than I, who must remain in hiding until the Kingsley money is safely in our hands. So count your blessings, darling.”

Ariana didn’t reply but went over to gaze expectantly out the narrow window, searching for what, she wasn’t sure. A miracle perhaps. Lord knew, she needed one—desperately.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Ariana prayed that Trenton’s innate cynicism and fragile faith would not prevent him from reading the truth she’d carefully hidden beneath the lies. And even if her meaning was lost to his embittered eyes, she prayed that Dustin, due to his brother’s absence, would read the copy of her letter Baxter had forwarded to Broddington. Dustin would understand. And with fate’s assistance, he could convince Trenton, before it was too late.

“What are you looking at?” Vanessa asked idly, nibbling at a spoonful of lemon custard.

“The heavens. The birds. The trees.” Ariana gave her sister a caustic look. “Life’s true blessings, Vanessa … the things money can’t buy.”

Vanessa raised her delicate brows. “Testy, aren’t we?” She wagged her head pityingly. “I never understood you as a child, and I still don’t understand you. What pleasure can be gained from observing a flying feathered creature or an inanimate green-leafed stalk of wood?”

“You’re right: You don’t understand me.” Ariana turned back to her observations.

“Speaking of pleasure, there is one I am most curious about. Is Trenton really the incredible lover he was always reputed to be?”

Ariana felt tears sting her eyes, not of embarrassment, but of a loss so vast it hurt.

“Ah, I see. Evidently, he takes his attentions elsewhere. Well, don’t be too hard on yourself, darling, you are a mere child, after all. Besides, no man is satisfied with just one woman, regardless of her prowess. It’s too bad, really. I would have enjoyed passing the time hearing about some of your duke’s favorite diversions.”

“Shut up, Vanessa.”

Vanessa blinked. “Now
this
is a side of you I’ve never seen.” She rose, stretching gracefully. “I’m going to take a hot bath. Then we can resume our delightful sisterly chat.”

Ariana winced as the door closed behind Vanessa. Once again, she turned her attention to the skies, seeking the peace nature brought her.
Please,
she begged silently.
Please let him come. Please.

The flash of white was so subtle that at first she almost missed it. But the second time her eye sought it out, zeroing in on the great, soaring creature that descended slowly, than alit on the branch just outside her window.

Odysseus blinked his penetrating topaz eyes.

“Odysseus …” Ariana whispered his name, her heart racing.

As if he had heard, the owl met her gaze, staring solemnly at her pale face.

“Oh … Odysseus, you’re here.” Instinctively, Ariana pressed her palm against the pane, feeling closer, somehow, to the precious bird who always appeared when she needed him. “I wish you could bring Trenton to me,” she murmured. Her hand fell away. “But, even if you could, what good would it do? As soon as Baxter heard the carriage arrive, he’d lock me in this room. I’d never see my husband and he’d leave, believing the worst of me. Oh, Odysseus, there must be a way.”

The owl remained, still as a statue.

But something else moved.

Tearing her gaze from Odysseus, Ariana peered off into the distance, trying to discern the motion. It was a dark, moving object of some kind, making its way stealthily through the deserted woods at the rear of Winsham. A wolf?

It was a man.

Ariana’s breath caught in her throat as she realized that the intruder was indeed human. Whoever he was, he was intent on avoiding detection.

Without knowing why, Ariana tensed, her nails biting into her palms as she watched, waiting, while the man came closer to the manor. Then suddenly she knew why.

It was Trenton.

Ariana bit her lip to keep from calling out his name. Vanessa was in the bathroom just down the hall: Any loud noise would alert her to the situation.

Desperate and frustrated, Ariana wracked her brain for a way to signal Trenton as to her whereabouts. In a minute he’d be at the manor, and Baxter would see him, confront him—and put an end to any opportunity she had to speak with her husband.

There had to be a way, to capture his attention. But how? How?

A rustle of feathers diverted her concentration back to her faithful owl, who was now peering downward in Trenton’s direction.

“Odysseus,” she whispered, wondering if he could make out her words, understand her urgency. “Please … fly. Let Trenton see you … call his attention to me. Please, dear friend. I need you now.”

The owl raised his head, blinking soberly once, twice. Then, without preliminaries, he emitted a shrill cry, spread his majestic feathers, and soared.

Below, Trenton paused, startled by the unexpected sound, scanning the heavens for its cause. Ariana knew the moment he spotted Odysseus; she could see the look of amazement on his face.

Odysseus seemed to know too. The moment he captured Trenton’s attention, he winged toward the window, sweeping past it, only to repeat the motion again.

Trenton’s gaze found his wife’s.

Tears glistening on her lashes, Ariana watched her husband’s cobalt eyes darken with an overwhelming emotion that was a mirror reflection of her own.

“I love you …” she mouthed.

Trenton nodded, a muscle working in his jaw. He averted his head long enough to give Odysseus a solemn salute, then veered purposefully toward the front of the house, all attempts at concealment forgotten.

He stopped just prior to disappearing from Ariana’s line of vision, tilting his head back to stare directly into his wife’s anxious eyes. “We’re going home.” Ariana read the words clearly from his lips, and she smiled through her tears.

Trenton didn’t smile back. Thankfully, humbly, he drank in the poignant beauty that was his and his alone. “I love you, misty angel,” he mouthed.

With that, he closed the distance to Winsham.

Ariana sagged weakly against the wall, joy and gratitude converging into a fathomless sense of euphoria. Trenton knew. He knew that she never meant to leave him. He knew that something at Winsham was amiss. He knew that she loved him—and he loved her in return. And he was here, ready to take her home.

Abruptly, Ariana straightened, her elation temporarily stilled. What he didn’t know was that Vanessa was alive. And Lord only knew what would happen when he found out.

With swift resolve, Ariana went to the door, gingerly testing the handle. The fates were with her: Vanessa hadn’t locked it when she’d left.

A minute later, Ariana was in the hallway, carefully assuring herself that it was deserted. It was.

She waited not a moment longer, sprinting through the servants’ quarters and into the main wing of the house. Winsham’s entranceway was in view and she planned to reach it.

Three things happened at once.

Deafening pounding erupted at the front door, Coolidge emerged from the drawing room, and Baxter collided with Ariana outside the library.

“What the—where are you racing to, sprite?” Baxter caught hold of her arm.

“Let me go, Baxter.” She struggled valiantly to free herself. “For God’s sake, show me that I wasn’t completely wrong about you. Let me go.”

Glancing curiously at the ruckus behind him, Coolidge opened the front door.

Trenton exploded into the house.

“Take your despicable hands off my wife, Caldwell!” Trenton was beside Ariana in a dozen strides.

Baxter looked totally bewildered, crumpling like a small, pathetic child watching his favorite toy being smashed to pieces. “Kingsley?” he tried inanely. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you get Ariana’s letter?”

“Baxter … don’t,” Ariana said quietly. “In the name of heaven, let the lies be over.” She extricated herself from his now-lax grip and went directly into her husband’s embrace. “Trenton,” she whispered, burying her face against his shirt, weak with the relief of being where she belonged.

“Are you all right?” Trenton demanded gruffly, his arms tightening reflexively around her.

“Yes.” She raised her face to his and smiled. “Now I am.”

“Good.” Trenton looked past her to Baxter’s abashed expression. “Then I’ll merely beat your brother senseless instead of killing him, as I’d originally planned.”

“Trenton … don’t.” Ariana pressed her palms against his chest. “Baxter didn’t hurt me. The blame is not entirely his. In many ways, he’s as much a victim as we are. Please, listen to me.”

Instinctively, Trenton made a move toward Baxter. “You greedy, immoral bastard … you kidnapped your own sister just to get your hands on my money?”

“Trenton!” Ariana made a final attempt. “Before you do something you’ll regret, I must tell you—”

“I’ll speak for myself, baby sister.”

Hearing the hated, never-forgotten voice, Trenton reacted violently, his fingers digging into the soft skin of Ariana’s arms. Blindly, he turned his head toward the sound, his heart thundering wildly in Ariana’s ear. For a long moment he just stared, confronted with the ghost that had haunted him not only these past weeks, but for six long years. At last he spoke, his voice a strangled hiss. “Vanessa.”

“A most attractive corpse, wouldn’t you say?” Vanessa smoothed her gown and approached him, bitterness glittering in her emerald eyes. “No loving reception, darling? I would think you’d be thrilled! After all … I’m not dead, and you’re not crazy. Who could ask for anything more?”

“Trenton …” Ariana reached up to touch her husband’s taut jaw. “You’re not seeing things. Vanessa really is alive. She’s the one who’s been—”

Brusquely, Trenton shoved Ariana behind him, as if to protect her from some heinous creature whose evil she underestimated. He towered over Vanessa, assessing every breathing inch of her, abhorrence, shock, and rage emanating from his powerful form. “You
are
alive,” he pronounced at last. Fists clenched at his sides, he battled the urge to choke her.

“Indeed I am.”

“Why?” he demanded. ‘

“Which question am I answering: Why did I feign my own death, why did I implicate you, or why did I return to England? You’ll have to be more specific, Trenton.”

“All of it!” He raised his hand as if to strike her, then drove his fingers forcefully through his hair. “All of it, damn you!”

Vanessa’s spine straightened. “Go ahead and hit me. I’m used to it: It’s the only way men have of asserting their power.”

“I never struck you, you lying bitch; although Lord alone knows I should have.”

“Then why didn’t you? The physical scars would have been far easier to bear than the agony of your rejection!” Her voice shook.
“No one
rejects me … least of all an arrogant hypocrite who discarded me like an old shoe simply because he wasn’t the only man in my life.” Vanessa raised her chin, raking Trenton with icy disdain. “Is virtue the only condition your wife must fulfill, Trenton? Evidently so, although I wonder if you still find it as attractive a quality as you did prior to taking your virgin bride to bed!”

A vein pulsed in Trenton’s neck, and only Ariana’s gentle hand on his back kept him from losing all control. “Your lack of innocence was the least of my objections to you, Vanessa. Your duplicity, your deceit, your manipulations, your cruelty, your self-indulgence, your greed …” Trenton drew in a furious breath.
“Those
are the reasons I wanted nothing to do with you.”