Echoes in the Mist

by Andrea Kane

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Baxter came to see me, supposedly to make amends. He asked that I come to Winsham the following day. Evidently, he planned to repay a portion of the money he’d extorted from Trenton six years ago.”

  Dustin started. “Trent told you about that?”

  A shaky nod.

  “I see.” Stifling his surprise, Dustin asked, “And did Baxter repay you?”

  “Yes. I accepted the check, then came straight home. But apparently …” Her voice broke. “Something happened while I was away.” She managed to keep herself in check long enough to tell Dustin of Trenton’s bizarre behavior: his belief that he was mad and dangerous, his conviction that Vanessa had appeared before him, and his incoherent ramblings that suggested he’d confused Vanessa with Ariana.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Ariana concluded in a shattered tone. “I’ve done nothing but think for three days, desperately tried to make sense of all this. Someone is tormenting Trenton’s mind. But who … and how? I want to help him; I’d do anything for him, with or without his permission. But how can I fight something I can’t even see and don’t understand?” She placed her hand over Dustin’s. “I’m sorry I summoned you. It was the coward’s way out. But I didn’t know where else to turn.”

  Dustin’s heart wrenched, not only for Trenton, but for the beautiful, innocent girl who was his wife. “I’m glad you sent for me. Together we’ll solve this insanity, once and for all.” He squeezed her fingers. “As for Trent, we can both venture a good guess as to where he is.”

  “Spraystone.”

  “Exactly. That’s where he always goes when he’s in pain.”

  Ariana turned. “I love him, Dustin. I want my love to bring him joy, not grief.”

  “You’ve brought more joy back into my brother’s life than I ever dreamed possible. You’ve given him a reason to live again, to see beyond the pain and guilt of the past. Just the fact that he’d place your well-being above his own should tell you something about the way he feels about you.”

  “I suppose it does,” she whispered.

  “Come.” Dustin gestured decisively toward the staircase. “I think much better when I’m working. Let’s continue this conversation in the sitting room. I’m eager to see your reaction to my designs.”

  “The sitting room is aired out and ready, and I’ve had tea and scones sent up so you can eat while you work,” Theresa announced, descending the stairs. “I’ve also left samples of the fresh flowers the duchess specified in her notes, so you can visualize them in the finished room.” She disappeared toward the kitchen.

  Dustin nodded approvingly at Ariana. “That was a clever idea, asking Theresa to gather those flowers.”

  “I didn’t. In fact, I never even mentioned them or showed her my notes.”

  “Then how …” Dustin broke off, grinning. “Never mind. I must admit, baffling as she is, I like your Theresa more each time I see her.”

  “When all is done, the help of good counsel is that which setteth business straight.” Theresa issued the proclamation from far down the hall.

  “Sir Francis again?” Dustin asked Ariana, his eyes twinkling.

  “None other.” Ariana smiled through her tears. “I believe Theresa returns your affections. That says a great deal about your character.”

  “Now if only my drawings live up to my charm and my appetite.”

  Carefully, Ariana dried her eyes. “I don’t doubt for a moment that they will.”

  “Shall we go up and see?”

  “They’re perfect!” Ariana knelt on the sitting-room floor, sketches spread out all around her. “Oh, Dustin, they’re exactly what I had in mind.”

  “Good. Because I’ve taken the liberty of purchasing the furniture you described. It will be delivered this week.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.” Ariana’s eyes glowed with gratitude. Clearing her throat, she broached what she hoped would be the greatest surprise of all for her husband. “There’s just one more thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “You mentioned that your father’s personal things are stored at Tyreham. How would you feel about having them sent to Broddington to be displayed in the sitting room?”

  Dustin smoothed his mustache, his expression clouded by ambivalence. “Truthfully, I don’t know how Trent will react to any of this, Ariana, least of all to so blatant a testimonial to our father. There are some reminders that still tear him apart, some memories he may never be ready to face. I just can’t predict what his response will be.”

  “I’ll take the responsibility … and the risk.” She stood, went to perch on the edge of the desk. “It would mean a great deal to me.”

  “Then we’ll give it a try.” He attempted a smile. “The worst Trent can do is fume and shout.”

  Ariana lowered her gaze.

  “It is the worst he can do, Ariana,” Dustin pressed gently.

  “I know. I never believed otherwise. But, obviously, someone else does.”

  Dustin leaned back in the chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Let’s explore this, beginning with all Trent’s overt enemies, their motivations and what they would gain by mentally torturing him.”

  “I gather quite a few people hated him after Vanessa died.”

  “They wouldn’t if they knew the truth,” Dustin returned without thinking. Abruptly, he fell silent.

  “Dustin,” Ariana said with quiet understanding, “I know what happened between Vanessa and Trenton. As well as what didn’t happen. I also know that her actions, her death … and Baxter’s thoughtless greed … were responsible for your father’s sudden passing. You don’t have to shield me any longer.”

  “Trent told you all that?”

  “Yes.”

  Dustin whistled softly. “You clearly mean more to my brother than even I realized. He’s never opened up and shared that information with anyone other than me. His pain … his guilt … were too deeply embedded.”

  “I understand his pain. But his guilt is so unfounded! He tried everything to protect your father!”

  “Yes, but Trent blamed himself for having instigated the scandal.” Seeing Ariana’s perplexed look, Dustin sighed. “You already know what happened. What you may not know is this: My father disliked and distrusted your sister from the first. He’d evidently had ample opportunity to observe her over several London Seasons and was convinced that she was a faithless fortune hunter. He adamantly advised Trent to stay away from her … for his own sake, and for the sake of the family. Trent didn’t take kindly to the invasion of his personal life, nor did he agree with Father’s assessment … at least not until he’d seen firsthand what Vanessa was capable of. By then it was too late. Trent’s never forgiven himself for not heeding our father’s warning. He’s convinced that if he had, Father would still be alive today.”

  “I see.” Ariana swallowed. “I never thought I could feel such contempt for my own family. It seems I’m learning otherwise.”

  Dustin’s deep blue eyes softened with compassion. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “So am I. Sorry that Baxter and Vanessa ruined Trenton’s life. Sorry that I wasn’t old enough to restore it. But I’m old enough now, Dustin.” She folded her hands tightly in her lap, raising her chin with solemn determination. “I can’t rectify the past, but I can remedy the present and ensure the future. I intend to do just that; for Trenton’s sake. Which brings me to a grim reality: I don’t think we can dismiss Baxter as a suspect in the unsettling events of the past few days.”

  “No, we can’t,” Dustin agreed. “Despite the number of people who scorned Trenton after Vanessa’s death, I can’t think of anyone else who would still harbor such rage, feel such malice six years later.”

  “The timing certainly suggests Baxter’s guilt. And there’s another thing: Who but Baxter knew Vanessa well enough to train someone to impersonate her? If Trenton were physically close enough to this impostor to actually grab her arms, she must
not only resemble Vanessa but behave like her as well.” A further realization dawned in Ariana’s eyes. “For that matter, Trenton rambled something about confusing her with me. So whoever arranged this facade must know my mannerisms too.”

  “Consequently, assuming Trent was lucid when he told you that, we’re right back to Baxter again.”

  “Dustin, something else is troubling me.” Ariana took a deep breath and plunged on with a nagging inconsistency that had plagued her for days. “Do you think Baxter could have tampered with Vanessa’s journal?”

  “What?” Dustin started, taken aback, both by the abrupt change in topic and by the question itself. “What on earth makes you ask that?”

  “It’s just that her written perceptions, unless she was delusional, are so different from what I now know to be the truth. How can that be?”

  “You’ve read Vanessa’s journal?”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “No. Trent never showed it to me.”

  Ariana leaned over the desk and slid open the bottom drawer, reaching in to extract the hidden book. “Trenton never showed it to me either. I found it myself. But he knows I’ve read it.” She handed the journal to Dustin. “I’d like your opinion.”

  Dustin stared at the book for a moment before he reached out and took it. Wordlessly, he scanned the pages, one after the other, until, twenty minutes later, he raised his head. “I’d kill her myself if she weren’t already dead,” he bit out, tossing the journal to the desk. “Either the woman was totally deranged or so corrupt that she was lying to herself as well as the world.” He turned blazing eyes on Ariana. “I hope you don’t believe a word of this. Vanessa and Trent were never involved … physically or emotionally … much less betrothed. Why, to read that trash one would almost think—”

  “That Vanessa’s words were written specifically to implicate Trenton,” Ariana finished.

  Dustin stopped in midsentence. “What?”

  “I’ve thought about it again and again since I read the journal. I remember my sister, and she was not insane. I can’t imagine that she would totally fabricate a nonexistent relationship, at least not in her own mind. She might manipulate the ton into believing she and Trenton were to be wed and even go so far as to spread vicious lies about him when he didn’t concede to her will. But why would she lie in her private writings? After all, no one reads a journal but the one who keeps it, right?”

  “Unless someone intends for that journal to be read by others,” Dustin continued slowly, completing Ariana’s thought.

  “Exactly.”

  “You believe that, once Vanessa died, Baxter altered the pages of the journal in order to blackmail Trent?”

  “It is something my brother would do. After all, his antipathy for Trenton was no secret.” Ariana’s shoulders sagged. “But that’s where my theory falls short. I studied that journal carefully, and I’m absolutely certain that the handwriting is Vanessa’s, not Baxter’s.”

  “Could Baxter have coerced Vanessa to write specific things prior to her death?”

  Ariana shook her head adamantly. “No one could force Vanessa to do anything. Least of all Baxter. He’s not a strong-willed man by nature, and he was especially malleable when it came to Vanessa. Besides, what would have been the point? Vanessa was alive, so the journal couldn’t serve as blackmail. And Baxter had no way of knowing that Vanessa was going to be the victim of a tragic drowning. If he had, he would have moved heaven and earth to save her.”

  “So we’ve reached an impasse.” Dustin frowned. “Unless Vanessa penned the incriminating entries herself, then left the journal in a conspicuous place so it could be used against Trent.”

  “That would make sense … if my sister premeditatedly planned her own death. But Trenton believes Vanessa was too self-centered to intentionally plot her own suicide. And, quite frankly, I agree.”

  “Then how did she die?”

  Ariana wagged her head slowly from side to side. “I don’t know. Perhaps it was an accident. If it was suicide, it had to be totally on impulse. It’s the only way Vanessa would kill herself.”

  Dustin stared thoughtfully at the discarded journal. “Do you mind if I keep this for a few days?” he asked at length. “Rereading it might spark something.”

  “By all means.” Ariana gestured for him to take the journal. “You have more right to it than I. You’re Trenton’s brother.”

  “And you’re Trenton’s wife … very much his wife,” Dustin returned emphatically. Seeing Ariana’s flush, he shook his head. “I wasn’t referring to a physical union, Ariana. I was referring to a spiritual one. A month ago you were wed. Now you’re married. Think about it.” He stood, stretching. “I believe I’ll take the journal and retire to my room. After all, I have days of renovation ahead of me.” He ruffled Ariana’s hair. “Stop worrying. You’re going to provide me with an army of nieces and nephews to spoil. And just think of all the stories we’ll be able to share with them.”

  Automatically, Ariana lay her palm against her abdomen, struck by the wondrous possibility Dustin had evoked with his affectionate comment. She could be carrying a child. Trenton’s child.

  Myriad emotions welled up inside her at the thought: overwhelming tenderness, protectiveness, yearning. A baby: someone who needed her, who turned to her for love; someone on whom she could lavish all the attention and nurturing she had been denied in her own childhood.

  And Trenton: Would having a child make him happy? Would he gaze at his son or daughter with that intense emotion he tried so hard to repress and only Ariana could see?

  Yes, somehow she knew he would. Together, they would raise their child, provide him with all the precious things life had to offer: sisters and brothers to play with and parents to envelop him in their ever-growing love.

  And, year after joyous year, Christmas would come.

  Tears welled up in Ariana’s eyes as she recalled the afternoon she and Trenton had walked along Osborne beach, the magical moment when he’d promised her Christmas at Spraystone, a private Eden filled with snow and laughter and love.

  With their entire world in turmoil, would that dream ever be realized?

  “He’ll be back, Ariana,” Dustin said gently. “I promise you, Trent will be back.”

  Ariana blinked away her tears. “Of course he will.” She stood, squeezing Dustin’s arm. “Go rest. We have a great deal of work to do before the sitting room is absolutely perfect. And who knows? Trenton could arrive home any moment.”

  Even as she spoke the words, she prayed they were true.

  CHAPTER

  23

  THE SITTING-ROOM RENOVATIONS WERE a blessing in disguise. For only when she and Dustin were immersed in the restorations did Ariana find peace. And, with the number of details to complete, the refurbishing took several long days.

  Her nights were hell: lonely and empty; filled with doubts and fears. Trenton’s whereabouts were no longer a worry, for although he himself had made no attempt to contact her, his solicitor had, advising Ariana that Trenton was living at Spraystone. Lawrence Crofton had arrived at Broddington five days after Trenton’s disappearance to check on Ariana and to ensure her that His Grace had wired him from Wight and arranged for huge sums of money to be made available to his duchess.

  Ariana didn’t give a damn about her newly acquired affluence. What she wanted was her husband.

  She knew Trenton well enough to realize that neither coercion nor begging would bring him home. Nor did she foolishly believe he was staying away because he no longer cared for her. To the contrary, it was because he cared that he had banished himself from her life, returned to exile out of some misbegotten conviction that he was protecting her from himself.

  No, the only way to bring Trenton back was to unravel the mystery and resolve the past. But how?

  “He’s been at Spraystone a week now, Ness.” Baxter folded his hands behind his head and regarded his sister quizzically from the room’s single armchair. “Shouldn’t we be doin
g something?”

  Vanessa smiled, reclining on the pillows. “What makes you think we haven’t been doing something?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Trenton hasn’t been spared surprises during his stay on Wight. Ferries and yachts travel back and forth to the Isle quite frequently, you know.”

  Baxter blinked, startled. “You’ve been to Spraystone?”

  “Why of course! Twice, in fact. Both times under cloak of darkness. Once I merely left a handwritten, rose-scented note in the barn.”

  “Saying what?”

  A throaty chuckle. “Only that I loved him, that I couldn’t understand why he’d destroyed me, that I’d never leave him … not even in death.”

  “Are you insane, Ness? What if Kingsley shows that note to someone? Someone who recognizes your handwriting?”

  “What explanation would Trenton provide? That he received a letter from a dead woman? Who would believe him? Plus I didn’t date the note, Baxter. It could have been written any time, such as six years ago.” She arched one delicate brow. “May I continue?”

  Baxter nodded.

  “During my other visit to Spraystone, I called out to Trenton from beneath his bedroom window. It was the middle of the night. As soon as he appeared, I vanished into the trees. His estate is so isolated, it makes coming and going without being seen extremely easy.”

  “I still don’t like the idea of your taking so many risks. … Why don’t you let me handle some of this?”

  Vanessa shot Baxter an impatient look. “I hardly think you’d do an effective job of impersonating me. No, this is one aspect of the plan I have to handle myself. But don’t worry, darling. Your chance will come … very soon.”

  “Theresa, I can no longer remain idle,” Ariana announced.

  Leaning past her mistress, Theresa placed the vase of fresh wildflowers on Ariana’s dressing table. “No, I’m sure you can’t.”

  “I love Trenton very much. There must be something I can do to help him.”

  Theresa dropped her hands squarely onto Ariana’s shoulders, meeting her mistress’s gaze in the looking glass. “Your confusion has lifted like the morning mist. Your faith in your husband has become absolute. You no longer doubt his integrity or question his innocence. Fear has ceased to play even a small part in your marriage. The veil of uncertainty no longer obscures your vision; not when you view the duke, nor when you view your brother. It is now only a question of discovering that which remains hidden to the eye and not to the heart.” Tenderly, Theresa patted Ariana’s cheek. “Yes, pet, I would say there is definitely something you can do.”