“But you once did?”
“Yes. A long time ago.” He wound his way around a line of hedges, his piercing gaze flicking briefly over her uptilted face. “I suspect you were little more than a child when I left.”
She inclined her head. “Are you so old then?”
Dark memories flashed through his eyes. “Ancient.”
“Funny,” Ariana murmured, half to herself. “I would have thought you to be no more than thirty.”
“Two years more,” he corrected. “And a lifetime.”
It suddenly occurred to her that he was only a year older than Baxter. Could he be an old friend, one she’d never met? “You are here for the betrothal? To take part in the celebration?”
A harsh laugh. “Yes, indeed.” He emerged from the maze, heading toward the manor with long, purposeful strides.
Ariana blinked as the front door was thrown open, the bright lights of the hallway assaulting her eyes after long hours in the murky darkness.
“My lady … are you all right?” The old, haggard Covington butler looked anxiously from Ariana to the formidable man who held her.
“I’m fine,” Ariana assured the servant, waiting for her rescuer to place her on the nearest chair. “Thanks to …” Flushing crimson, she realized she had never asked the man his name. Preparing to rectify her oversight, she turned her face back to his, abruptly recognizing by his steely expression that he had no intention of putting her down. Rather, he was continuing to move, carrying her decisively into the crowded ballroom. “What are you doing?” she demanded, struggling to free herself from his grasp.
“I am returning you to the party, my lady,” he answered, his eyes gleaming with an emotion so dark that Ariana shuddered. “Since I, too, am ready to make an appearance.”
“You cannot just carry me in as blithely as if—”
A sharp cry pierced the air and Ariana found herself accosted by a ballroom of pale, gaping faces.
“Good Lord …” James Covington gasped, echoing his wife’s shriek of a moment before.
A shocked murmur began, grew, vibrated through the crowd.
Ariana closed her eyes, wishing the floor would swallow her up.
Her rescuer seemed more amused than bothered. “Where is your family, misty angel?” he murmured, still holding her fast. “I’ll deliver you into their hands.”
Ariana ignored him, opening her eyes and addressing Mr. and Mrs. Covington with as much dignity as she could muster. “Forgive me,” she began shakily. “I had no intention of making a scene. But I injured my ankle and this kind gentleman …”
A roar of anger exploded through the room as Baxter Caldwell stormed from the rear, blood lust in his eyes.
“Kingsley, you miserable son of a bitch! Put my sister down!”
CHAPTER
2
KINGSLEY?
Ariana’s head snapped around, all the color draining from her face as she met her rescuer’s chilling stare. Kingsley? Trenton Kingsley? It could not be: Trenton Kingsley had disappeared six years before, just after …
Ariana’s lips trembled. No. He didn’t dare return—not after the vile and monstrous act that had shattered her family, forever changed their lives. A cold-blooded animal, a murderer. And she had allowed him to touch her. To hold her so intimately.
Horrified, Ariana began to struggle for freedom, shoving at Trenton’s granite chest and straining against his punishing grip.
Trenton’s whole body went rigid, shock waves vibrating down to his very soul. Reflexively, his grasp tightened, his fingers biting more deeply into the woman’s soft skin, crushing the fine satin of her gown. His pupils dilated, his piercing blue gaze sweeping her features, confirming the truth of Baxter’s words.
How could he not have seen it? Only a fool would have missed the resemblance! It was evident in the fine arch of her brows, in the delicate, high cheekbones, in the unusual, startlingly vivid coloring. Yes, she was every inch a Caldwell. Just like Vanessa.
Fury suddenly replaced shock, etched into every line of his face. “Sister?” he hissed.