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Echoes in the Mist (Kingsleys in Love 1)

Page 44

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“Poker?” Now she did look shocked.

“Queen Victoria plays,” he tempted.

A spark appeared in her eyes. “Does she, now? Well then, so shall I!”

“Done,” Dustin concluded with a snap of his fingers.

His infectious enthusiasm made Ariana bold. “And Dustin?”

“Hmmm?”

“The game I’ve always wanted to learn is croquet.”

“Then our tour will lead us to the front lawn, where your training will commence.”

“Today?”

“What better time than the present?”

Ariana felt gratitude well up inside her. “Thank you,” she said in a small, choked voice.

Dustin smoothed his mustache, suddenly furious at his brother for abandoning this exceptional young woman. Didn’t Trenton see what a treasure he’d been granted?

With great difficulty Dustin bit down on his anger, knowing full well that Trenton saw nothing, for he was blinded by his bloody vengeance. For the time being, Ariana’s happiness was in Dustin’s hands.

Resigned to his delightfully appealing task, he cupped Ariana’s elbow and winked. “Instructing you in croquet will be my pleasure. Now, shall we move on to the drawing room?”

Ariana followed Dustin down the endless tiled hall to the drawing room. Pausing in the doorway, she caught her breath. “How elegant!”

Stained-glass windows lined the walls, admitting just enough light to emphasize the domed ceilings, green velvet sofas, and magnificent marble fireplace. Huge trefoiled mirrors hung between the windows, making the room seem even grander and more enormous.

Awed, Ariana strolled about, running her hand over a priceless statue, terrified that it might shatter at the merest touch. She traced the gilded trim along the room’s marble columns with one tentative fingertip, marveling at the talent it had taken to design such a palace.

“Winsham’s drawing room is half this size,” she murmured, half to herself. She gazed off, a faraway look in her eyes. “We celebrated Christmas there when Mama and Papa were alive. I was so small … it seemed to me that the tree filled the whole room. I recall thinking what a miracle it was, the transformation from drawing room to winter garden.” Self-consciously, she glanced up. “I’m sorry, Dustin … I’m babbling.” On the heels of the apology she dimpled. “Babbling is something I do, not only when I’m nervous, but all the time.”

Dustin chuckled. “Actually, your memories are charming.”

“They’re few and far between,” she replied with a sad shrug. “My parents died when I was three. I scarcely remember them.” She turned back to the painstakingly crafted columns. “In any case, Winsham isn’t, nor was it ever, as grand as this.”

Squinting, Dustin tried to view the room, the entire estate, through Ariana’s untrained eyes. “My father adored Broddington,” he said, his tone rich with his own memories. “This particular estate was not only his home but his greatest achievement.”

Ariana looked up. “Trenton told me your father designed Broddington … assisted by his two sons.”

A half-smile played about Dustin’s lips. “Trent told you that, did he? Well, despite my brothers foul temper, he is far too modest. He and my father did the actual designs. I merely provided an occasional suggestion.”

“Trenton also said your father was a genius.”

“And he was.”

“I can see that.” She hesitated. “Will you tell me about him?”

A gamut of emotions played over Dustin’s face. “Father was a proud and brilliant man. But despite his incredible talent he was, by nature, a traditionalist, devoted to his family and his home.” Dustin stared at the floor. “The Kingsley name meant the world to him.”

“You’re very fortunate,” Ariana replied softly, leaning against the sturdy column. She studied Dustin’s bowed head, her heart swelling with a compassion that surmounted the questions crowding her mind. “I suppose, being a young child, I was spared the full wrenching impact of losing my parents. While in your case, you were a grown man when your father died. How his loss must have hurt you.”

“Yes, it hurt me.” Dustin’s voice was raw. “But it nearly killed Trenton.” Everything inside Ariana turned cold. “Dustin …”

“Come.” Dustin turned away, his firm tone telling her that, for now, the subject was closed. “Let’s go on to the music room.”



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