Echoes in the Mist (Kingsleys in Love 1)

Baxter’s glass slammed to the desk as comprehension struck, the true cause of Ariana’s embarrassment finally registering its full impact. “Did he force himself on you?” When Ariana only blinked in total stupefaction, Baxter stalked across the room and yanked her to her feet. “Did that bloody bastard force you into his bed?”

Ariana snapped out of her stunned silence. “Force me? For God’s sake, the man is my husband! Surely you knew what that meant when you agreed to the marriage!”

“I didn’t agree to it,” Baxter shot back. “The blackguard had a royal edict from the Queen! My hands were tied.”

“You certainly didn’t try very hard to untie them.”

Baxter winced at his sister’s cutting accusation. “What could I have done?” he beseeched, his grip tightening in frustration. “Kingsley is a close personal friend of Victoria’s. From the day Vanessa died, the Queen made it clear she believed unconditionally in his innocence. Given that fact, what grounds did I have to prevent her decree that you wed him?”

Ariana twisted free of Baxter’s grasp and turned away. “There’s nothing to be gained by this argument. The point is a moot one. … My marriage is a fait accompli and cannot be undone.”

The finality of Ariana’s proclamation descended upon Baxter like a heavy boulder, crushing him—but at the same time making him supremely aware of how ludicrously he was behaving. Yes, the marriage was a fait accompli—perhaps not with his blessing, but without his vehement objection. Ariana was Kingsley’s wife now … and that meant in body as well as name.

Baxter stared at Ariana’s tense back, assailed by a sense of melancholy that his baby sister was a child no longer. The looming reality was that Kingsley’s entire purpose in forcing Ariana to the altar had been to steal her innocence and possess her as his own, thus seizing the ultimate opportunity to destroy the Caldwells. And despite Ariana’s obliviousness to her own desirability, she was indeed a rare beauty, one any man would want in his bed.

Baxter fought back his anger and regret, reminding himself that the Caldwell reward was still to come.

Clearing his throat roughly, he placed gentle hands on Ariana’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, sprite. I had no right to rant at you like that. It’s just …” His voice faltered. “You’re all I have left and I worry about you.”

Ariana twisted slowly to face him. “I know,” she said softly, covering his hand with her own. “But there’s no need. Trenton would never hurt me.”

A blaze of fury re-ignited Baxter’s eyes. “Trenton …” he repeated, more horrified by her use of Kingsley’s given name than by the knowledge that they’d lain together. The latter was a necessary evil, the former an unwelcome warning.

“You still hate him so,” Ariana murmured, studying the enmity in her brother’s eyes.

“Have you forgotten that he was responsible for Vanessa’s death?”

“Was he?” she responded swiftly, her body going rigid. “Tell me how.”

Baxter’s expression grew savage.

“I want to hear the details of Vanessa’s death,” Ariana repeated. “All these years I’ve been told only the barest of facts … plus endless speculations. I understand I was merely a child at the time and you wanted to protect me. But I’m not a child any longer … and I need to know.”

“No, dammit!” Baxter jerked away and walked to the window. “I have no intention of reliving that day.”

Ariana’s palm struck the desk. “I am wed to the man, Baxter. Exactly how did he factor into Vanessa’s death?”

Baxter lurched around. “Vanessa loved that bastard. She planned to marry him. She gave him everything … her heart, her love … everything. And he abused her.”

“Physically?” Ariana interrupted, her heart screaming an instant denial.

“He brought her to the very depths of despair.” Baxter jabbed his hands in his pockets, either oblivious to Ariana’s question or unwilling to answer it. “He taught her the meaning of jealousy, fear, and cruelty. Until she had nothing left inside her. Nothing.”

Ariana forced herself to consider Baxter’s implication objectively, striving to reconcile her memories of their stunning, vibrant older sister with Baxter’s description of the despondent, lethargic woman who had lost all will to live. Had Vanessa truly been that devastated? Over a man?

Ariana pressed her lips together, contemplating the Trenton she knew: his anger and vengeance, his potential for ruthless brutality. Then, with an adamancy she never knew she possessed, she shook her head in definitive repudiation. “No. It makes no sense.” Ignoring Baxter’s stricken expression, she pressed on, purposefully avoiding any mention of Trenton. “Vanessa was an independent, self-assured woman.”

“Perhaps she appeared that way to a twelve-year-old.”

For a second, Ariana faltered. Could her memories of her sister be merely the misconceptions of youth, clouded further by the passage of time?

As Ariana hesitated, Theresa’s words crystallized in her mind, unbidden yet strangely enlightening. I don’t believe love was ever the issue… You recall y

our sister—how can you not be sure of that?

“No, Baxter.” With renewed strength, Ariana stood her ground. “One man’s rejection would not be enough to incite Vanessa to take her own life.”

“Then he took it for her.”