Andrea Kane by Echoes in the Mist

was,” she said carefully. Again, the urge to continue, to ask him all about his father, was nearly overpowering. She knew only that Richard Kingsley had died shortly after Vanessa, presumably from the shock of his son’s reprehensible behavior. And Trenton’s strangled tone and pained expression certainly concurred.
    Ariana’s instincts did not.
    “Our guests will doubtlessly wonder where we are,” she said, touching his arm.
    Instantly, Trenton’s mask was back in place. “Doubtlessly,” he agreed. As if on cue, the strings began to play, calling for the dancing to commence. Trenton offered Ariana his arm. “Come. I believe the first dance customarily belongs to the bride and groom.”
    Ariana slid her fingers through his arm.
    “Brides are supposedly too nervous to eat.”
    Dustin’s teasing voice interrupted Ariana’s last bite of lemon cake.
    She laughed. “You’re right. And I’ll certainly pay with a terribly upset stomach. But you see”—she leaned conspiratorially forward—“when I get nervous, I eat huge quantities of sweets.”
    Dustin caught her elbow as she weaved a bit on her feet. “I see. And do you also drink huge quantities?”
    “What?”
    “How much punch have you had?”
    She considered the question. “I’m not certain. Perhaps four or five glasses. It’s really quite tasty for fruit juice.”
    Dustin looked utterly incredulous. “Fruit juice? Sweetheart, there are countless pints of French brandy and white wine in that ‘fruit juice.’”
    “There are?” Ariana frowned. “Does this mean I’m foxed?”
    “Hopelessly.”
    She laughed. “And you’re the duke’s brother.”
    “That I am.” He gave a formal bow. “And you’re the duke’s wife,” he said with a twinkle.
    Ariana chewed her lip, glancing around to make certain they were alone. “Can you keep a secret?” she whispered at last.
    “I think so.”
    She leaned closer. “I have no idea how to be a wife.”
    Dustin couldn’t help himself; he burst out laughing. “Ariana, I think you are going to be a very quick learner.” He took her elbow. “Are you up for a dance?”
    She nodded, her face flushed from wine and excitement. “But only if you lead … Dustin. May I call you Dustin?”
    “Since we are now effectively brother and sister, I believe it is mandatory,” he replied, leading her into a waltz.
    “I’ve never drunk wine or brandy before, but I do enjoy them,” she confessed.
    “I can tell.” Dustin studied her delicate features objectively. The coloring, the inherent feminine charm: Yes, he could see Vanessa. But there was so much more here, not only beauty, but depth and character.
    And passion.
    Dustin felt a twinge of envy for the treasures Trenton had yet to discover.
    “May I borrow my bride, Dustin?” Trenton tapped his brother on the shoulder.
    Dustin blinked, surprised at the anger in Trenton’s tone. The last time he had seen his brother he was dancing with the Dowager Duchess of Cantington, in seemingly high spirits. “Of course.” Dustin stepped away, feeling the presence of the dark emotion that drove Trenton relentlessly, was always buried just beneath the surface. It emanated now like an ominous thunderstorm.
    Ariana felt it too, and was suddenly and entirely sober. “Will you be staying at Broddington?” she asked Dustin, anxiety clouding her lovely face.’
    He was about to say no, when he met the pleading look in her eyes. He glanced back at Trenton, saw the antagonism, and knew he couldn’t leave Ariana alone. Not with his brother in this foul, unpredictable humor.
    “For a day or two,” he compromised, feeling Trenton bristle. “Then I must get back to Tyreham.”
    Relief swept Ariana’s fragile features. “Wonderful! Then we’ll have a chance to get to know each other.”
    “Tomorrow,” Trenton interrupted. He took Ariana’s arm. “It’s time for us to take our leave.”
    All the color drained from her face. “But the guests are still