The Good Sister: Part One (22 page)

“Hi, mom,” I said once my mother answered.

“Trinity, I have been so worried about you. I have tried calling your aunt, and all I get is her answering machine.”

“We have been out a lot, so don’t worry, everything is fine.”

“Out?”

“I told you, mom. I’m working on things. I don’t want to be a recluse my entire life so please stop worrying and let me do what I need to do.”

“Trinity, I don’t want to argue. I’m just glad to hear your voice, my love. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“No, but I will send an email soon. How are the Addisons?”

“Everyone is fine. I understand Reid is still in France.”

“Ah,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“So everything is going well for you then? I mean we are doing okay with the panic and anxiety?”

“Yes, mom, but let’s not talk about my issues.”

“Okay, love.”

There was a long pause. I wasn’t sure of what else to say.

“Mom, I need to get off the phone. I will call you next week, so don’t worry.”

“If you need anything or if you want to come back home, you call me, okay?”

“I will, mom. I’ve got to go. I love you.”

“I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

I flipped the cell phone shut then called my aunt. I got the answering machine. “This is Jane, not answering my phone. Hopefully I am up to something naughty. You know what to do.
Bleep…
”

“Aunt Jane, this is Trinity.” I heard a
click
then my aunt’s voice.

“Sweet, thank God you called. I was getting worried, and I’ve stopped answering the phone because your mother keeps calling here.”

“I’m sorry. I called her and I told her you and I have been out. You and I have been working on my fear issues. Anyway, everything is fine, and I’m fine so you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Do you need anything?” Jane asked.

“No.”

“You have enough money?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’m going out today. I have an idea I will be learning to ride a horse.”

“Horses? Well, you be safe.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad to hear you so upbeat. Remember to call me at least once a week, okay, my sweet?”

“I will, Aunt Jane. And thank you for everything.”

“You are welcome. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Oh, and happy birthday, Trinity.”

“Thanks, Aunt Jane. I love you. Don’t worry. I’ll call you next week.”

“All right, sweet. Kisses.”

“Kisses,” I returned then ended the call.

I gazed at the phone in my hand, hesitated but made one more call…

“Hello,” he said his voice beautiful to my ears.

“Hi, Reid.”

“Baby bird! I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah well, the hospital decided to allow me a special call. It’s my birthday today.”

“Happy birthday. Nineteen, right?”

“Right.”

“How are you holding up?” Reid asked.

“It’s been an interesting week, but I’m doing okay. How are you doing? Staying out of trouble?”

Reid’s low, even laugh buzzed across my ear. I closed my eyes in an attempt to hold on to the sound.

“I’m doing great. And I already told you, trouble sort of finds me.”

“And what does it look like?”

“What?” Reid asked.

“Your brand of trouble. What does it look like?”

“Trinity…” Reid sighed.

“I know you, Reid. You don’t need to hide the fact you fool around with women. Besides, we are friends, right? Unconditionally, remember?”

“Do you really want to have this conversation?”

“Yes.”

“Trinity, you don’t know me.”

“Okay, well let me guess.”

“Guess what?”

“Your brand of trouble sports red hair.”

It was quiet. Totally quiet.

“Blonde, actually,” Reid said.

I muttered, “What?”
Breeze is redheaded.

“You heard me. Blonde, just like you.”

“I doubt she’s like me, Reid.”

“There is something about her that reminds me of you. Probably the color of her hair,” he offered. My stomach sank.

“Where did you meet her? In a hot Paris club?”

“Nope. I haven’t really met her. She’s kind of a mystery.”

“So you haven’t met her?”

“No.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to meet you.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t.”

“And that drives you crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Reid?”

“What, baby bird?”

“I really have to go.”

“Okay, I understand. Call me again.”

He sounded forlorn.

“I will, but I don’t know when.”

“Trinity, it was good talking to you.”

“You too, Reid.”

“Happy birthday, baby bird.”

And with that I disconnected the call, and pondered the conversation before I dressed in my riding outfit.

****

The ride to Lord Archer’s estate was to take forty-five minutes. I sat enthralled with the scenery out the window, listening to Alec hum. When he paused, I turned to look at him, his face, serene, and his long wavy black hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“What is that song?” I asked.

Alec smiled. The small lines around his eyes crinkled. “Something my mother used to hum to me when I was a little boy.”

“It’s pretty.”

“Yes. I like to hum it sometimes. It makes me think of her.”

“Do you see her often?”

“No, my beauty. My mother died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry, Alec. My father died when I was ten.”

“Yes. Jacqueline has mentioned some of your trouble. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for yours.”

“We are here,” Alec announced.

I looked out the passenger side window. My breath caught in my throat. Outside the window sat a beautifully preserved chateau in pristine condition. It was situated on a perfectly maintained park of what looked like acres and acres of land surrounding it, complete with garages, and stables. Sitting back from the chateau was another building, perhaps a small chapel.

The entrance into Briarwood Manor was spectacular. One grand center staircase branched off to the right and to the left, creating a front terrace that encased the entirety of the front of the home. The house looked at least four stories tall with square turrets attached on each end. It was amazing.

When the car came to a stop, Alec pocketed the keys, exited the car, and came around to get my door. He helped me out of the automobile. Several staff, all wearing proper black and white uniforms, greeted us, took our bags, and led the way to the front door. The female staff kept their chins tucked. I could not help but wonder if I looked like that when I tucked my chin. It was a look of … being forlorn, I supposed.

I stepped into a grand foyer. Overhead hung a huge glass chandelier. It sparkled like hundreds of diamonds. The ceiling was painted with a celestial scene. Bringing my attention back to the fore, I saw Lord Archer approach, wearing formal English riding gear. He truly looked regal. In fact, he looked like he had stepped right out of the pages of an old English novel. He was magnificent.

Lord Archer wore a black fitted coat. Underneath a white formal shirt with a black and white striped tie. In his hand he held onto a pair of black gloves. His black riding breeches accentuated his height, as well as the strength in his thighs. As he walked, his muscles worked. And his black riding boots hugged his well-formed calves.

I stared at him, unable to stop. His chocolate colored hair looked windswept, and his high set cheekbones sported a tint of color, a blush, as if he had been out in the cold. His eyes were frost white beneath his ash colored lashes. They were shocking, haunting, and once again I wondered
are they the eyes of an angel or a devil?

Lord Archer was truly a striking figure, and in this moment I decided, angel or devil, either way, he was without any doubt, gorgeous. A slow smile began at the corners of his mouth then extended across the perfect planes of his face. Was he smiling because he was truly glad to see me or did my expression as I watched him approach give me away?

Taking my hand into his, he smiled even brighter. “Welcome, my dove.” In the next instant he had removed my glove. He kissed the top of my hand. He turned my hand over where he kissed my palm. He ran the tip of his nose along the sensitive skin of my inner wrist. Just like his first touch, I felt a frisson of heat and energy snap across my skin, and again just like our first touch he closed his eyes. He lingered before he looked up into my face. “I am very pleased to see you again.”

“Thank you, Lord Archer,” I said. “I am happy to have received the invitation to be here.”

Lord Archer turned to his staff. “Please take our guests’ things up to their sleeping quarters.”

One staff member bowed in acknowledgement and grabbed my bags while another followed close behind, having grabbed Alec’s bags. They moved down the long corridor then out of sight.

“May I take you on a tour of my home?” Lord Archer asked me. He turned to look at Alec. “Trinity shall be fine. Please, make yourself at home, my dear friend.”

“Lord Archer. I am ensuring her into your care, and trust her care to be without the interference of Gavin.”

Lord Archer bowed his head to Alec. “I can assure you, Alec, my dove will be safe in my care. I have sent my brother away for the weekend.”

Alec bowed. “My lord, I shall give my beautiful Trinity over to you.”

“Where are you going?” I asked of Alec.

“Do not worry, my beauty,” Alec said. “I am here if you need me, but you are in good hands with Lord Archer.”

“Shall we?” Lord Archer asked.

“Yes,” I said, and without any hesitation I took hold of his outstretched arm.

As I walked with Lord Archer through his expansive home, I looked at all the beautiful ornate and original details throughout, such as the high ceilings that were carved and sculpted. Moldings in fine detail. Wainscoting. Rich extravagant textiles upon the walls. Marble and parquet floors. Beautiful glass doorknobs. Golden handles and faucets. French windows. Fine antique furnishings. Scores of antique baubles. I couldn’t decide what one thing would stand out. It was all too much. Too fabulous.

“The home was once the chateau of a marquis. It was constructed in 1860,” Lord Archer announced, “but Briarwood Manor has been in our family for many years now.”

“It is beyond words, Lord Archer. It is beautiful.”

Lord Archer stopped, touched the pad of his thumb to the corner of my mouth. “I am quite pleased you find it pleasurable. Consider it your home as well. You are welcome here anytime you wish.”

“Thank you, Lord Archer.”

“My beautiful dove, please call me Ashton. You have no need to call me Lord Archer while in my presence.”

“But I should call you Lord Archer when we are around others?”

“I am afraid etiquette requires it.”

“You will need to be patient with me. I am unsure of proper etiquette.”

Ashton tilted his head, smiled tenderly. “I can be a patient man,” he assured then changed direction. “I have something else I would like you to see.”

“Okay,” I said, following his lead. “Wait.” I spun on my heel, having caught a glimpse of something. I stood memorized, staring at an oil painting that hung in a small gallery. “Is that Monet?”

“Yes, my dove.”

“And that,” I said, pointing to another painting, “it’s Renoir.”

“Yes. Do you study art?”

“No,” I whispered. I stood quiet for a moment, considering Ashton was probably beyond wealthy if this home was any indication.

“But you know of these paintings?”

“Yes.” I turned to look back at Ashton, my expression probably bemused. “Ashton?”

“Yes?”

“Why would you want to spend time with someone like me?”

“What do you mean someone like you?” he asked.

“Well, you are…” I hesitated trying to find a way to explain. “Um.” I ran my teeth over my bottom lip.

“What, my dove?” he asked.

“Well, you are extraordinarily handsome, you are extremely intelligent, more than likely very important since you hold a title, and you obviously have money so … I’m probably considered low class, poor, without any education other than graduating from high school and—” Ashton placed his index finger to my lips.

“My dove,” he said, “you are extraordinary, beautiful, beyond brave, clever, sincere, truthful and full of life. I find you delightful. I wish to spend as much time with you as you will allow. I care not of my status compared to yours. I assure you, it is not important.”