Wishes in the Wind Read Free

bottles and fine crystal, he was hell-bent on inspecting them at close range. Had you delayed your interruption a scant moment longer, he would have pulled himself up and accomplished his feat.”
    “And my entire floor would be doused in madeira and garnished with slivers of glass,” Ariana muttered. With an exasperated sigh, she glared at her innocent-looking son, striving to appear stern. “You,” she informed him, marching back to her chair, “are an untamable tempest.”
    “I quite agree.” Dustin flexed his shoulders, grimacing at the resulting stiffness. “Every muscle in my body aches from that tiny tyrant. I’m unused to such a whirlwind of activity.”
    “Now why don’t I believe that?” Ariana responded dryly. “From the gossip I’ve heard thus far this season, it sounds as if you’ve attended every party and danced with every woman the ton has to offer. Soon you’ll be forced to travel abroad in order to discover new prospects. Rather like you do with your thoroughbreds.”
    “An interesting concept.” Surprisingly, Dustin sobered, staring pensively into his drink. “Unfortunately, however, I’m finding the allure of my thoroughbreds to be far more long-standing than that of my liaisons. I fear my brother snatched up the last real treasure in a vast array of shoddy imitations.”
    Ariana inclined her head. “Did something unpleasant happen at Newmarket?”
    “Yes. My mare lost.”
    “Very amusing. That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not one to agonize over your losses—probably because they rarely occur. Now, are you going to answer my question?”
    “Touché.” Dustin raised his glass in tribute. “Very well. No, nothing happened at Newmarket—at least nothing tangible. But you’re right. I am restless. Why? I haven’t a clue. Perhaps it is time to travel abroad. I might not find intriguing women, but I’m sure I’ll discover an Arabian or two.”
    Unfooled by his lighthearted quip, Ariana studied Dustin, wondering how her brother-in-law would react if she were to tell him what she believed to be not the immediate but the underlying cause of his malady. Was he ready to hear it? And was she the one to impart the fact that he was far too warm and loving a man to be eternally content with empty dalliances and profitable horse races?
    Chewing her lip, Ariana resettled herself—and her son—in the cozy armchair.
    Alexander was gone before she’d smoothed her skirts. He slid down the seat cushion, dropped to the rug, and crawled toward the sideboard—a miniature bandit intent on completing his crime.
    He collided with his father’s boots.
    “Well, I see you’ve kept your poor mother occupied. All day, I suspect.” Hoisting Alexander into his arms, Trenton Kingsley crossed over to his wife. “I’m home, misty angel.” He bent, brushing her lips with his. “I missed you.”
    “I missed you, too.” Ariana caressed her husband’s jaw. “You’ve been gone forever. It was scarcely dawn when you left for Bembridge. Was the storm’s destruction that severe?”
    A tired nod. “Unfortunately, the village sustained quite a bit of damage. The good news, however, is that most of it is now in the process of being rectified.”
    “In other words, you spent all day securing the homes and providing for the families.”
    Trenton smiled tenderly at the blatant pride in her assertion. “It wasn’t so remarkable a feat. After all, I have the money and the knowledge of the structures.”
    “You also have the heart,” Ariana added fervently, love shining in her eyes. “You’re incredible—and I don’t mean as an architect or a duke. I mean as a man.”
    “And you’re beautiful.” Trenton frowned, stroking the shadows of fatigue beneath her lids. “But you look exhausted. In retrospect, I’m sorry we didn’t bring Alexander’s governess to Spraystone with us. At least you would have had some assistance.”
    “I couldn’t do that to Mrs. Hopkins. She was more