But even more moving were the loving accents that cried out Ariana’s name: the fragrant arrangement of flowers—blossoms he wouldn’t have recognized by name a month ago but now knew were marigolds, hawthorn, and violets—sprouting from a tall crystal vase on the side table; the architectural tomes that carefully lined the mahogany bookshelves; and, most of all, the meticulously stitched needlepoint that proudly graced the wall beside the window—a magnificent depiction of a great, wild bird in flight.
It was their white owl.
Emotion clogged Trenton’s throat, constricted his chest so tightly he couldn’t speak.
“Now you tell me,” Dustin asked quietly. “Is this the act of a woman who intends to abandon you, who has left no part of herself in your home, who doubts the longevity of your marriage? Is it, Trent?”
“When did she do all this?” Trenton managed.
“She came to see me some time ago. … In fact, it was the day Jennings told you she was in London shopping. We planned the sketches then. But the reason Ariana summoned me to Broddington this week, during your absence, was to help her complete the room prior to your return. She stood here beside me every day, organizing and arranging. … Praying that you’d come home soon—to Broddington … to her. I’ve said it before, Trent: You’re a lucky man. Ariana’s love is something rare and precious and, as she tells you herself in that otherwise fabricated letter, her love is absolute and will never vacillate or desist.” Dustin laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “To echo your wife’s words, never forget that. Never.”
“I won’t,” Trenton vowed, his expression humble, his eyes damp. He walked over to the needlepoint, traced its intricate rim, and smiled at the perfect replica of Odysseus his wife had created. The owl was, just as Ariana wished, unhindered by man, winging his way through the skies, able to soar wild and free.
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 gre
edy 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.”