Andrea Kane by Echoes in the Mist Page A

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
    T HE 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.
    “Are all these guests here to enjoy the ceremony? Or to ogle the woman who is marrying a potential murderer?” Ariana’s own cynicism surprised her.
    Apparently it didn’t surprise Baxter, for he shrugged carelessly. “Either way, enjoy the attention, little one. You can be a heartstopping spectacle and a martyr all at once.”
    Fortunately, their carriage came to a halt at that moment, sparing Ariana the indignity of a retort. But, as an attentive footman swung open the carriage door to assist the bride to the street, Ariana came to a profound, crystal-clear realization.
    Perhaps she was walking headlong into a raging, unknown tempest, but she had no reason to feel tied to her life at Winsham. In fact, other than her romantic dreams, she was sacrificing nothing at all.
    It was time to leave her childhood behind.
    Taking a deep breath, she stepped down, raising her head to face the magnificent columns of the church, following the proud spires to their peaks. With forced deliberation, she looked around her, seeking the tranquilizing effect nature always offered her. She drank in the unfailing beauty of velvet green trees and brightly colored flowers, filling her lungs with the fragrant August air, infusing her senses with joy and her soul with faith.
    “Are you ready, sprite?” Baxter alit, taking her arm.
    Ariana opened her mouth to reply when, from her peripheral vision, she spied a sudden flash of white winging through the air. Searching intently, she found her mark, sucking in her breath at the instantly recognized, magnificent spectacle. Snowy