Read Online Andrea Kane by Echoes in the Mist - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Echoes in the Mist
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pause.
“Attraction?”
“Yes.”
“And fear?”
Ariana blinked. Trenton had asked that very question of her in the maze, and her answer had surprised them both. Regardless, it had been true then; it was true now. She looked Theresa squarely in the eye. “Fear? No. The duke has made no move to hurt me.”
“One could argue that marriage to a murderer would incite fear,” Theresa pointed out. “And yet you feel none. Does that not tell you something?”
“That I am a fool?”
“That you doubt the duke’s guilt.”
“I don’t know if I doubt his guilt. … I simply see another side of him.”
“There are many sides to a man, just as there are many sides to a story. Each of them is part truth and part illusion. It is up to us to discern the difference.”
Ariana absorbed Theresa’s words quietly. “You’re talking about more than Trenton Kingsley’s character now. You’re talking about his involvement in Vanessa’s death.”
“Am I?”
“But I’ve heard the story a thousand times, Theresa. From Baxter, yes, but also from hushed conversations among the servants, an occasional slip from Baxter’s colleagues—”
“And from the duke?” Theresa interrupted.
Ariana’s brows rose. “Of course not.”
“Hmmm,” Theresa murmured thoughtfully. “Since Trenton Kingsley is directly involved in these ‘details’ you’ve heard, isn’t it sensible that he should be allowed his say?”
“He chose not to say anything. Instead, he made his guilt clear by running away.”
“Did he?” Theresa asked wisely. “Was that guilt that compelled him to go? Or was it injustice?”
“I don’t know.” New tears sprang to Ariana’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I’m so confused. Just as I have been ever since the night I met Trenton Kingsley. Please, Theresa, help me.”
Theresa gathered Ariana close, stroking her hair with a gentle hand. “As Sir Francis said, ‘If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.’ Some things must be left to fate, my lady. And fate presents many questions before she supplies the answers. Your course, as I see it, is clear. You cannot disobey Queen Victoria’s mandate, so you must marry Trenton Kingsley. After that, time will clarify your future.”
Ariana rested her cheek against Theresa’s narrow, capable shoulder, another nagging thought intruding in the wake of conflict and resignation. “The duke said the wedding would be held at Broddington. Yet from what Baxter has told me, Broddington has been deserted since … then.”
Theresa nodded. “It has. Other than an occasional visit from the Marquis of Tyreham, the estate has been unoccupied for six years.”
Ariana sat up. “The Marquis of Tyreham?”
“Dustin Kingsley. Your betrothed’s … “—Theresa used the term gently, yet with enough emphasis to accustom Ariana to the notion—“younger brother.”
“I’ve heard no mention of the marquis.” Ariana ignored Theresa’s pointed reference, her interest captured by this new and unexpected development.
“Your brother is not in the habit of discussing the Kingsley family, pet,” Theresa reminded her. “The marquis is two years his brother’s junior, a kind and personable gentleman. You will enjoy his company immensely … as he will yours.”
Ariana opened her mouth to ask Theresa how she knew this, then closed it with a snap. If Theresa stated something as fact, then fact it was.
“What makes the duke believe that hundreds of guests will attend this wedding?” she asked instead. “He is despised by many, feared by most, and shunned by all. Why would anyone wish to appear at this mockery of a ceremony?”
“Many reasons, my lady.” Theresa’s shrug was matter-of-fact. “Curiosity. Gossip. Human nature is astounding; the idea of resurrecting an old scandal is an enticement few can resist. And then, of course, there are those who will
“Attraction?”
“Yes.”
“And fear?”
Ariana blinked. Trenton had asked that very question of her in the maze, and her answer had surprised them both. Regardless, it had been true then; it was true now. She looked Theresa squarely in the eye. “Fear? No. The duke has made no move to hurt me.”
“One could argue that marriage to a murderer would incite fear,” Theresa pointed out. “And yet you feel none. Does that not tell you something?”
“That I am a fool?”
“That you doubt the duke’s guilt.”
“I don’t know if I doubt his guilt. … I simply see another side of him.”
“There are many sides to a man, just as there are many sides to a story. Each of them is part truth and part illusion. It is up to us to discern the difference.”
Ariana absorbed Theresa’s words quietly. “You’re talking about more than Trenton Kingsley’s character now. You’re talking about his involvement in Vanessa’s death.”
“Am I?”
“But I’ve heard the story a thousand times, Theresa. From Baxter, yes, but also from hushed conversations among the servants, an occasional slip from Baxter’s colleagues—”
“And from the duke?” Theresa interrupted.
Ariana’s brows rose. “Of course not.”
“Hmmm,” Theresa murmured thoughtfully. “Since Trenton Kingsley is directly involved in these ‘details’ you’ve heard, isn’t it sensible that he should be allowed his say?”
“He chose not to say anything. Instead, he made his guilt clear by running away.”
“Did he?” Theresa asked wisely. “Was that guilt that compelled him to go? Or was it injustice?”
“I don’t know.” New tears sprang to Ariana’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I’m so confused. Just as I have been ever since the night I met Trenton Kingsley. Please, Theresa, help me.”
Theresa gathered Ariana close, stroking her hair with a gentle hand. “As Sir Francis said, ‘If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.’ Some things must be left to fate, my lady. And fate presents many questions before she supplies the answers. Your course, as I see it, is clear. You cannot disobey Queen Victoria’s mandate, so you must marry Trenton Kingsley. After that, time will clarify your future.”
Ariana rested her cheek against Theresa’s narrow, capable shoulder, another nagging thought intruding in the wake of conflict and resignation. “The duke said the wedding would be held at Broddington. Yet from what Baxter has told me, Broddington has been deserted since … then.”
Theresa nodded. “It has. Other than an occasional visit from the Marquis of Tyreham, the estate has been unoccupied for six years.”
Ariana sat up. “The Marquis of Tyreham?”
“Dustin Kingsley. Your betrothed’s … “—Theresa used the term gently, yet with enough emphasis to accustom Ariana to the notion—“younger brother.”
“I’ve heard no mention of the marquis.” Ariana ignored Theresa’s pointed reference, her interest captured by this new and unexpected development.
“Your brother is not in the habit of discussing the Kingsley family, pet,” Theresa reminded her. “The marquis is two years his brother’s junior, a kind and personable gentleman. You will enjoy his company immensely … as he will yours.”
Ariana opened her mouth to ask Theresa how she knew this, then closed it with a snap. If Theresa stated something as fact, then fact it was.
“What makes the duke believe that hundreds of guests will attend this wedding?” she asked instead. “He is despised by many, feared by most, and shunned by all. Why would anyone wish to appear at this mockery of a ceremony?”
“Many reasons, my lady.” Theresa’s shrug was matter-of-fact. “Curiosity. Gossip. Human nature is astounding; the idea of resurrecting an old scandal is an enticement few can resist. And then, of course, there are those who will
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