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Dustin straightened. “Take Ariana away … as far away from the root of your hatred as possible.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain from Trenton’s body. “Away? … Where?”

“To Spraystone. You could put some distance between her and her fears, allow her to enjoy herself for a change. These past weeks haven’t exactly been easy ones for her. … First the Queen’s edict, and now your turbulent marriage.”

“Spraystone,” Trenton repeated thoughtfully. “I never considered taking her there. … It’s hardly a grand estate, the type the average young woman dreams of residing in.”

“There’s nothing average about Ariana.” Dustin’s grin returned. “Spraystone is plush with greenery, alive with birds and animals. Your bride would adore it.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Trenton interjected, scowling. “Ariana and I would be virtually alone. And at the moment, that thought would terrify her.”

“The Isle is far from uninhabited,” Dustin reminded him. “Introduce her to Princess Beatrice, let her meet the folks of Bembridge, teach her to sail. Bring along the croquet set, if it would make her feel more secure. Then she can throttle you with a mallet if you become too threatening.”

“Do you really believe she’d be pleased?” Trenton asked gruffly, ignoring Dustin’s jest.

“Try her.”

A pensive silence. “It would keep here away from her brother’s vicious claws.”

“Definitely.”

“And perhaps ease some of the burden she’s been forced to bear,” Trenton added, warming to the idea.

“Precisely.”

A suspicious look flitted across Trenton’s face. “Did you plan to join us?”

Dustin carefully schooled his features, desperately fighting the urge to laugh. “No, actually I’d best be getting back to Tyreham. My colt is being readied for the fall races at Newmarket. I’ll be needed.” He inclined his head. “That is, unless you’d prefer me to accompany you.”

“No.” The word erupted from Trenton’s mouth with the speed and force of a bullet. “Actually, what I’d prefer is for you to stay the hell away from my wife.”

Despite his best efforts, Dustin’s lips twitched. “Ah … I see. I suppose that could be arranged. Although, as you yourself pointed out, Ariana is an incredibly beautiful woman. She’s also intelligent and sensitive, and …”

“Dustin, I’m not finding you at all amusing.” Trenton’s voice exuded a clear warning.

“Jealous, Trent? Now that is surprising, considering the fact that emotions play no part in your marriage.”

“Dustin …”

Ignoring Trenton’s furious admonition, Dustin chuckled, patting his brother’s arm. “First thing in the morning, I’ll leave for Tyreham … and you and Ariana will leave for Spraystone. Now I would suggest you go tell your bride to pack.”

Trenton gazed soberly toward the house where Ariana had fled in order to escape his wrath. Lord alone knew what she was thinking, feeling. Shock and bewilderment, at best. And no one could alleviate that but him.

CHAPTER

13

ARIANA WAS STILL TREMBLING when she curled up in the center of her bed. She wanted to bury herself in the thick quilt and block out the world, the day, her meeting with Baxter, everything.

Not to mention her husband’s violent, erratic behavior.

If she’d been frightened before, she was petrified now.

Trenton’s venom had been a tangible entity, powerful enough to—she forced herself to complete her thought—to kill.

Her mind drifted back to Vanessa’s letter. Was that the jealousy Trenton had demonstrated six years ago? Had that irrational, overwhelming possessiveness made her fear for her life?

Pressing her face into the pillow, Ariana battled the relentless images that slashed through her mind. Twice she’d fallen victim to Trenton’s out-of-control jealousy: first, yesterday when he’d stormed across Broddington’s front lawn, accusation blazing in his eyes after her croquet lesson with Dustin. And then again, just now in the stables.

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