Dustin threw back his head and laughed. “Trust me, sweetheart, the wickets do indeed have openings. You just have to learn how to find them.”
Ariana made a face and brushed a loose strand of hair from her damp forehead. “I don’t hold out much hope,” she muttered. “I don’t know why I ever wanted to learn that silly game anyway.”
“It was only your first lesson,” Dustin pointed out, finishing his third scone and settling comfortably back in his chair. “You’ll improve.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “I suppose my pride is wounded. I’d assumed I would master the sport on my first attempt and hear nothing but praise from you.”
“I had no idea praise was required.”
Trenton’s deep baritone startled them both, and, simultaneously, they jumped in their seats, watching as he strode toward them.
“Trent, I didn’t know you’d returned …” Dustin began, shading his eyes, praying that his brother’s early appearance meant his anger had dissipated, that he was ready to spend time with his bride.
Dustin’s hopes were instantly dashed.
“Obviously you weren’t expecting me.” Trenton’s tone was frigid, his jaw rigidly clenched. “But I’m pleased to know my bride has been properly entertained during my absence. As far as her mastering a sport on the first attempt …” He turned to Ariana, ruthlessly scrutinizing her relaxed, tousled appearance. “Let me be the first to offer you the praise you so fervently requested.” He gave her a mock bow. “I commend you highly. If you take to all amusements as quickly and proficiently as you did to the one you learned last night, you will garner nothing but compliments and pleas for more.”
Dustin was on his feet even before Ariana’s shocked gasp reached his ears. “For God’s sake, Trent, are you insane?” he demanded.
Trenton tore his gaze from Ariana’s white face. Swerving to meet his brother’s fierce stare, he gave a harsh laugh. “Indeed I am! But I thought that was established years ago
“By the Caldwells.”
“Don’t, Trent,” Dustin warned, his tone tight, controlled. “You’re obviously drunk. And you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’m as sober as you are,” Trenton contradicted icily. “And I know precisely what I am saying.”
Shakily, Ariana rose, her lips quivering with embarrassment and hurt. “You’re not insane,” she whispered. “Nor are you drunk. But you are terribly cruel. I don’t know why you feel such anger toward me, but I do know it is directly linked with Vanessa.”
Trenton’s inadvertent flinch at the mention of Vanessa’s name confirmed Ariana’s suspicions. With as much dignity as she could muster, she gathered up her skirts and smoothed her hair back into place. “When you’re ready to treat me civilly, I shall manage to do the same. Not because I’m afraid of you,” she added candidly, raising her chin a notch, “but because, despite your abominable behavior, I know there is goodness inside you.” Tears glistened on her lashes, but she blinked them away, holding her head high. “However, I won’t be the recipient of your hatred any longer. Remember that … or don’t address me again.”
With a regal turn, Ariana marched off toward the house.
Astonishment and respect welled up inside Dustin, and he had to forcibly restrain himself from going after her.
“I see you’ve taught my bride to forgo reticence in favor of an acidic tongue. … And that, in the process, you’ve become her guardian.”
Trenton’s caustic comment made Dustin seethe. “Someone has to protect Ariana.”
“From whom? Me?”
“Yes, you bloody lunatic. From you.” Dustin faced his brother squarely, fury racing through his veins. “She’s not Vanessa, you damned, stupid fool,” he stated flatly. “When are you going to see that?”
Trenton’s fists clenched. “Leave it alone, Dustin.”
“Then leave Ariana alone,” Dustin shot back. “She deserves better than your brutal treatment.” He shook his head, longing to shake some sense into his brother, to make him see the obvious.
Ariana was not Trenton’s enemy but his salvation.
Half tempted to blurt out that Trenton needed Ariana to make him whole again, that Ariana was already half in love with her unworthy husband, Dustin fought the urge, painfully aware that it was a realization they would have to arrive at themselves. Frustrated and livid, he threw up his hands. “Open your eyes, you bloody blind man,” he bit out. “Before it’s too late.”
He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Dustin’s uncharacteristic assault triggered the familiar battle that raged inside Trenton, and his features contorted with the strain of internal conflict. He could deal with it. He knew he could. He could deal with all of it: the vengeance that ate at his soul, the painful falling out with Dustin, the scars that time refused to heal.
All but the pain he’d seen on Ariana’s face when she’d walked away from him.
And the knowledge that he was its cause.