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“Baxter, in all due respect, you hardly sent for me in order to discuss my physical attributes, did you?”
A sh
adow crossed his face. “Do I now need a reason to see my sister?”
A pang of conscience tugged at Ariana’s heart. “Of course not. I only wondered why you delivered so formal and insistent a message.”
Baxter gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, I could hardly visit you, now could I? Stroll into Broddington and announce myself … I who am your brother and the head of the Caldwell family? I think not.”
Ariana dropped her gaze sadly. “I see your point.”
“I rather thought you would.” Catching her chin, Baxter lifted her face for his inspection. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Kingsley hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
Ariana averted her head.
“Has he?”
“No!” She felt her cheeks burn. On a cognizant level, she was aware that Baxter’s question pertained only to her physical well-being, bearing no resemblance to the wanton thoughts it immediately evoked. Still, the images of her sensual intimacy with Trenton sprang vividly to mind: the intensity, the fervor, the indescribable pleasure he induced. But hurt her? “No, of course he hasn’t,” she denied hotly.
Baxter studied her another moment, then nodded. “Very well.” He crossed the room and poured himself a drink. “Would you like one?”
“No.” Ariana sank into a chair. “I’ll wait for the tea.”
“Suit yourself.” He took a deep swallow. “So, you’ve survived two days of marriage to Trenton Kingsley.”
“Survival was never an issue.” Her fingers tightened on the folds of her gown, bracing her for an unpleasant exchange.
Baxter tossed off the rest of his drink. “In other words he’s returned to the Isle of Wight, as I suspected, and you haven’t been burdened with his presence.”
“He’s at Broddington.”
“What?” Baxter looked stunned.
“For the most part,” she clarified. “He did visit Spraystone, but not for long. Predominantly, he’s stayed with us at Broddington.”
“Us?”
“Dustin’s been there since the wedding. He’ll be returning to Tyreham in a few days.”
“Ah … the marquis.” Baxter refilled his glass.
“He’s a wonderful man,” Ariana said defensively.
“I don’t doubt it.” Inclining his head, Baxter gave her a curious look. “You’re enjoying his company, then?”
“Who?”
“Your husband’s brother … wasn’t that who we were discussing?”
“Oh, yes.” Ariana felt unusually flustered. “Yes, Dustin is great fun. He’s teaching me to play croquet. Or at least he’s trying to,” she added ruefully.
Baxter traced the rim of his glass. “Well, that certainly explains your rapid adjustment.” He raised his probing gaze to Ariana’s, weighing her reaction. “So you’ve had very little time alone with Kingsley, then.”
Twin spots of red reappeared on her cheeks.
