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Trenton’s jaw tightened fractionally. “If you’re asking me if I want her, if I’m burning to feel her under me, the answer is yes. Even I am not so noble as to marry a woman I didn’t crave in my bed.”
The passion behind Trenton’s admission brought a new concern to Dustin’s mind. “Trent … if she’s that young …” He cleared his throat. “How does she feel about this union?”
A wry smile. “The union? Or me?”
“Both.”
“She despises the idea of a forced marriage. And me? She loathes me. She’s bewildered by me.” Something flickered in Trenton’s eyes. “She wants me.”
Dustin swooped down on his brothers final words. “Are you sure?”
“That she wants me?” Trenton’s expression was a picture of smug certainty. “Very sure. Surer even than Ariana herself.”
“By any chance …” Dustin paused, knowing he had to ask. “Does Ariana resemble Vanessa?”
Trenton swung around, his mouth drawn in a tight line of fury. “That has nothing to do with my decision.”
“You’ve just given me my answer.”
“Leave it, Dustin.” Trenton stalked the length of the room to pour himself a brandy. “I’m marrying Ariana. Period.” He tossed off his drink, slamming the glass to the table.
“All right,” Dustin agreed, astutely recognizing that his remaining questions would have to wait. “What can I do to help?”
Trenton turned his head, his expression softening. “You can make the church arrangements. Then you can help me open up Broddington and ready it for guests.”
“And for living quarters?”
Trenton stared thoughtfully
at the carpet. “Yes,” he said at length. “There’s nothing at Spraystone for a young woman. Ariana will want to experience parties, theatre—all the finery of her new role as a duchess.” He nodded, decisive and resigned all at once. “Yes, Dustin, for the time being, my bride and I will be staying at Broddington.”
“Very well.” Dustin hid his surprise, remembering the Trenton who had vowed never to return to Sussex. “I’ll begin making arrangements at once.”
“And Dustin?” Trenton regarded his brother solemnly. “I have one other favor to ask of you: Will you stand up for me as my groomsman?”
Dustin grinned. “Need you ask?” Growing serious, he clasped Trenton’s shoulders in his hands, looking him squarely in the eye, reinforcing the gravity of the unalterable step Trenton was about to take. “Don’t sacrifice any more than has already been lost, Trent,” he advised quietly. “The past cannot be undone. And marriage is forever.”
“No, Dustin.” Haunted memories cloaked Trenton’s eyes, twisted his features into a mask of remembered pain and hatred. “What is forever is death.”
CHAPTER
6
THE CHURCH WAS NEARLY invisible, lost on the busy Sussex street amid throngs of people and a line of traveling chariots.
Ariana stared out the carriage window in stunned disbelief. Apparently Theresa had been right: The Duke of Broddington’s black reputation had done nothing to prevent a record number of guests from attending today’s ceremony.
Ariana’s stomach lurched.
Nervously, she sat back against the cushions, praying for God to grant her the courage to proceed with the wedding.
“Are you all right, sprite?” Baxter leaned forward to squeeze Ariana’s hand.
“I’m terrified,” she confessed in a whisper. “Good Lord, Baxter, there must be five hundred people in that church.”
“And that surprises you?” he asked dryly, glancing out the window. “This is, after all, quite an event. Did you truly think anyone would turn down the opportunity to see you wed the infamous Duke of Broddington?”
Something in her brother’s tone made Ariana bristle, and, unconsciously, she tugged her hand free of his. Theresa’s words sprang swiftly to mind, taking on new meaning in light of the enormous crowd. Human nature is astounding; the idea of resurrecting an old scandal is an enticement few can resist.
