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“Dustin is modest about his achievements.”
“He said the same of you.”
“Did he? Well, my redeeming qualities are questionable. Dustin’s are not.”
“You’re very proud of him,” Ariana commented, uncertain of how to respond to Trenton’s self-deprecating statement.
“Yes, I am. He’s a remarkable man whose brotherly allegiance is, to say the least, exceptional.”
“Did you both attend Oxford?”
Trenton clasped his hands behind his back. “For a time, yes. But my father’s health had already begun to fail, and running Broddington was all he could manage. I left Oxford to take over the remaining estates and the family businesses.”
Ariana started at the humility Trenton was displaying while recounting an utterly unselfish act—one her own brother had bemoaned for years after her parents died. “What a massive undertaking that must have been!” she exclaimed. “And how difficult … Why, you were still in your teens!”
Trenton shrugged offhandedly. “I only did what was necessary for my family.”
“And succeeded beyond their wildest dreams, I expect. Your father must have been very proud!”
A muscle worked at Trenton’s throat. “I suppose. We didn’t discuss it; I merely did what I had to do. I never questioned nor resented my responsibilities.”
“I can see that.” Unconsciously, Ariana walked forward, admiration shining in her eyes. “And yet you doubt your worthiness as a human being?” She reached up, laying her hand against his jaw. “The way I see it, you are more than worthy.”
His expression turned grim. “You don’t know me, Ariana.”
“I think I do.”
“You’re a romantic child, misty angel.”
“Romantic, perhaps, but not a child.” She raised her chin a notch. “Not anymore.”
The underlying significance of Ariana’s words sank in, and Trenton frowned, catching her wrist and pushing her hand away. “Don’t delude yourself, Ariana. What happens between us in bed has nothing to do with romance.”
She flinched. “Perhaps not in your case.”
Trenton stared down at her, a flash of pain crossing his face. Then he shook his head … hard. “Don’t make the mistake of allowing your heart into this marriage.”
“It’s too late,” she stated simply.
“You’re selling your soul to the devil,” he warned.
Ariana shrugged. “I’ll take that chance.”
Before he could respond, she m
oved away. “May I see the rest of the manor now?” She paused in the doorway.
Trenton nodded mutely, his eyes darkening with some unfathomable emotion. Then he led her into the hall.
“I’ve seen most of the bedrooms,” she commented, gazing down the corridor. “But I’d like to see your sitting room again.”
Trenton stiffened. “Why?”
“Because I spent very little time there.” She was already walking in that direction.
“As did I,” he said, his voice laced with irony. Reluctantly, he followed her path, opening the door to the Spartan room within.
“Why is that?” Ariana strolled about the barren floor, reinforcing her earlier impression: that this room was virtually unoccupied.
