A brief flash of relief—gone as swiftly as it appeared. “This isn’t only about … physical intimacy.”
“I know,” she answered simply. “Nor is my relationship with Dustin. There’s something special between us, something I can’t explain. An affinity, a magnetism, an innate understanding that’s been there from the start. I don’t know where our feelings will lead or even if I’ll be able to endure the outcome when it occurs. But I know I must try. If I don’t, I’ll be empty for the rest of my life. Please, Papa, put aside your protective instincts long enough to remember what it was like between you and Mama. Once you do, help me. I need you now every bit as much as I did when you lifted me onto my first horse and held me so tightly I knew I’d never fall.” A rueful smile shone through her tears. “Yes, I’ve grown. Unfortunately, my problems have followed suit. While I recognize I must seek my own answers and find my own solutions, it’s knowing your strength and love are there that gives me the courage to do so.” Her voice dropped to a hush. “I love him so much, Papa.”
A wealth of memories darted across Nick’s face as he gazed soberly down at his daughter. “I know you do, Elf.” Awkwardly, he groped for a handkerchief and dried her cheeks. “I don’t mean to make it harder for you. I just”—he cleared his throat—“want so much for you to be happy.”
“I realize that.” Nicole caught the handkerchief, pressed it between her palms. “I’m a lucky woman. I have two extraordinary men in my life who want my happiness and who always seem able to dry my tears.”
“I pray that lasts forever. But, Nickie, if anything should happen … if Tyreham should disappoint you, hurt you …” Another pause. “I’ll be here. Of course, I’ll tear him limb from limb first, but, after that—I’m not too old to hold you up and keep you from falling.”
“Nor am I too old to ask you to,” Nicole whispered. Reaching up, she gave him a hard, swift hug. “Thank you, Papa.”
“You’ll be wanting to see him again, I suppose?”
The gruff question made her grin. “You suppose right.”
“Well, tell him he can come by tonight—for a little celebration.” A spark of pride. “Two minutes forty seconds, you said?”
“That’s what I said.”
“That definitely calls for a drink. Tell Tyreham to be here at eight.”
“I could invite him for dinner,” Nicole suggested hopefully.
“Yeah? And who’s going to cook it?”
Her lips twitched. “I could invite him to bring dinner,” she amended. “Assuming his cook wouldn’t mind supplying it.”
Nick considered the request. “I do like that brown sauce she sent over when we first moved in.” An exaggerated sigh. “Very well. Tell your marquis that if he brings more of that sauce with him, he can come for dinner. Say … seven o’clock.”
“Yes, Papa.” Securing her cap, Nicole bolted.
“That brown sauce tastes good on lamb,” Nick called after her. “He can bring some of that, too. And those little iced cakes.”
A peal of laughter was her reply, followed an instant later by the closing of the front door.
Moving aside the curtain, Nick glanced out the window, watching his daughter race toward her future.
“Alicia,” he murmured softly, raising his eyes to the skies. “It’s in your hands now. You gave me my miracle. Please … give Nickie hers.”
Silence ensued.
But from behind a cloud a ray of sunlight shimmered.
“You and Alexander needn’t rush off.” Dustin grinned as he walked Ariana to her carriage. “Why, my nephew has much havoc left to wreak. Half the manor remains intact.”
“But Mrs. Hopkins remains anything but,” Ariana retorted, shifting Alexander from her arms to the carriage seat and indicating his governess, now collapsed against the cushions, snoring. “I only hope the poor woman doesn’t tender her resignation the instant we arrive at Broddington.”
“Doubtful. Your son is too precious to abandon—unruly or not.” Dustin shook his head in amazement as Alexander began digging under the cushions for an undetected toy. “He doesn’t even look tired.” Leaning in, he ruffled the tiny dark head, chuckling as, for the sixth time that day, Alexander groped for his uncle’s upper lip, looking utterly perplexed by the absence of a mustache. “It’s gone, little ruffian,” Dustin informed him. “Thanks to you. You’ll have to find another way to torture me.”
“Fear not,” Ariana said cheerfully. “He shall.” Rising on tiptoe, she kissed Dustin’s cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“I intend to. Tell my brother to stop worrying about me.”
“Tell him yourself. We’ll be back in a fortnight. For the Derby.” Ariana’s gaze flickered past Dustin, captured by a flash of motion. “I believe your brilliant young jockey wishes to speak with you,” she observed, catching sight of Alden Stoddard as he rounded the corner of the manor at a dead run, then—having spied them—halted in his tracks.
Dustin’s head jerked around, his brows arching in surprise. “Stoddard?” He cleared his throat. “Is everything all right?”
An awkward nod. “Forgive me, sir. Yes, everything is fine. I had a question, but it can wait. I didn’t realize your family was still here. My apologies, Your Grace.”
“Nonsense.” Ariana waved her hand. “Whatever you need to discuss with Lord Tyreham is obviously important. Moreover, Alexander and I must be on our way.” She smiled gratefully. “Mr. Stoddard, I appreciate your letting us witness that remarkable display of horsemanship earlier today. You can be sure we’ll be cheering for you in the stands at Epsom.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“I can’t wait to tell my husband how splendidly you ride. We’ll both be eager to share in your victory.” Ariana’s attention shifted to Dustin, her voice dropping to a murmur. “And eager to share in both of yours—the one you shall achieve on the turf, and, most especially, the one you shall achieve off it if you follow my advice.” A poignant spark lit her eyes. “You will follow it, won’t you?”
Solemnly, Dustin nodded. “Lord knows how, but yes.”
“Good. Then we really will have much to celebrate.” With that, Ariana gathered up her skirts. “I’d best get Alexander and myself back to Broddington before Trenton sends out a search party.” She scooted into the carriage, rolling her eyes and laughing as Alexander immediately climbed into her lap and began tugging pins from her hair.
Even the coachman was grinning as he shut the door and took up his post at the back.
Dustin waited until the coach had rounded the bend and disappeared before he swung about to face Nicole. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She kept her voice low … and distinctly Stoddard’s. “Better than all right, actually. The reason I’m here is to extend an invitation to dinner. That is, if you’re free tonight.”
He looked utterly stunned. “Did you say an invitation to ‘dinner’ or to ‘duel’?”
Her lips twitched. “Dinner, my lord.”
“At your cottage?”
“Um-hum.”
“Your father agreed to that?”
“Only if you bring some of your cook’s splendid brown sauce.” An impish grin. “And something to pour it over, preferably lamb, I believe Papa said. And iced cakes for dessert.”
Dustin stared, then burst out laughing. “I see. Am I being blackmailed then?”
“It appears so, my lord.”
“Very well. Since the rewards are so great, I’d be delighted to accept your invitation and your conditions. Cook’s specified items and I will be on your doorstep at …?”
“Seven o’clock,” Nicole supplied.
“Seven o’clock it is.”
“It’s a celebration, by the way. My father was highly impressed by my running time today.”
“He should be. You were incredible.”
The entranceway door opened. “Pardon me, my lord,” Poole announced from the threshold. “But you asked me to summon you as soon as the duchess had
taken her leave.”
“Ah. Yes.” Dustin nodded. “Is Mr. Saxon available to see me now?”
“He’s waiting in your study, sir. So, whenever you and Mr. Stoddard have completed your business …”
“We’re finished now, aren’t we, Stoddard?” Dustin asked, his tone as businesslike as if he were addressing his solicitor.
“Yes, my lord. Thank you for answering my question.” Nicole matched his impersonal demeanor with her own. “Good evening.” She touched the brim of her cap and walked off.
For an instant, Dustin watched her retreat, marveling at the fact that the delicate, utterly feminine woman he’d held in his arms last night was the same person who’d just ambled off with the unmistakable stride of a boy, not a speck of femininity to be found.
Except by his body, he noted ruefully, shifting to alleviate the sudden constriction in his trousers. Disguise or not, his body hadn’t a doubt that Nicole was a woman. He wanted her so much, he throbbed with it.
Poole cleared his throat politely. “My lord?”
“Forgive me, Poole.” Forcing his attention back to the matter at hand, Dustin ascended the manor steps. “Have you filled Saxon in on any details?”
“Only that the matter is a delicate one, requiring both physical prowess and utter discretion. The rest I left for you.”
“Thank you.” Dustin paused. “See that we’re not disturbed.”
“Of course, sir.”
Dustin entered his study, shutting the door and greeting Poole’s nephew. “Good to see you, Saxon. I appreciate your coming on such short notice.”
The tall, powerfully built fellow rose. “It’s good to see you, too, sir. I’m delighted to be able to be of service to you.”
“I hear you’ve established quite a glowing reputation for yourself.”
“I enjoy my work, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to pursue it on my own.”
“So your uncle mentioned.” Dustin poured two drinks, extending one to Saxon. “I won’t insult you with words like secrecy or confidentiality. I assume they’re ever present in your line of work.”
“Indeed they are, sir.”
“Very well, then, here’s my dilemma.” Dustin proceeded to fill Saxon in on the entire situation, from the personal he’d placed in the Gazette, to Aldridge sending Stoddard in his stead, to the menacing intruders who’d invaded Tyreham, to Sullivan’s beating and Redley’s questionable death—the whole ugly scheme he suspected was undermining the turf, everything except for the fact that the Aldridges were staying at Tyreham.
Saxon listened intently. “Obviously, what you want is to bring the men who threatened you out of hiding so they can lead you to whoever issued their orders.”
“Exactly. I have a list of jockeys I suspect are taking bribes, throwing races for money. I intend to call on them.”
A nod. “That will serve two purposes—gain information and upset whoever is in charge.”
“Hopefully upset him enough to send those hoodlums back to beat me into compliance.”
“You do realize, sir, that you’re setting yourself up as a walking target.”
“Um-hum. A walking target with a very capable carriage driver for an escort. A driver who insists on transporting me everywhere. Why, would you believe the faithful fellow refuses to indulge in even one day off lest I have to abide an inferior substitute? That’s how loyal he is.”
“A rarity indeed, sir.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
A corner of Saxon’s mouth lifted. “Have you ever considered investigative work, my lord? You’re quite good, you know.”
Dustin grinned back. “I’m flattered. Now, the remaining question is, how well do you handle a carriage?”
“Nearly as well as I handle unsavory people.”
“Excellent. We’ll leave for Newmarket tomorrow. The second set is commencing. It’ll run until May fourteenth. Most of the jockeys on my list should be there.” Dustin tossed off his drink. “Get a good night’s rest, Saxon. It’s off to Suffolk in the morning.”
“Reins in hand, sir.”
“Thank you, Atkins. You can go now.”
The astonished footman started at the unexpected dismissal, blinking first at Lord Tyreham, then at the closed cottage door, and last at the cart of food he’d just rolled from the manor to the tenants’ quarters. “Don’t you want me to carry in the trays, my lord?”
“I’ll manage.”
“But the cart is laden. Surely …”
“I’ll manage,” Dustin repeated firmly. “I appreciate your offer and your help. But Mr. Stoddard’s father is ill and doesn’t wish to be disturbed. The less fuss—or callers— that intrude on his solitude, the better. Don’t worry. Stoddard will assist me. Between the two of us, we’ll transfer these trays into the cottage.”
“All right, if you say so, sir.” With a dubious expression, the footman took his leave.
Dustin waited a full three minutes.
Then he knocked.
“I’m alone,” he murmured.
Nicole eased the door open a crack, her eyes bright with laughter. “You’re still far too smooth a liar, my lord.”
“Let me in and I’ll show you how honest I can be.”
The door opened the rest of the way, keeping Nicole carefully concealed until Dustin—and the cart—were inside. Then it closed, and she emerged, wearing a simple beige gown, unadorned by anything save her wishing locket.
“Your other dress, I presume?” Dustin managed, drinking in her beauty.
“I’m afraid so. Not terribly impressive, is it?”
His reply was to glance restlessly about. “Where’s your father?”
“He’ll be down in a minute. He’s …”
The rest of Nicole’s words were stopped by Dustin’s mouth. “Kiss me hello,” he demanded huskily.
“Yes, my lord.” She wound her arms about his neck, kissing him without hesitation or embarrassment.
Enfolding her against him, Dustin inhaled the scent of her hair, reveling in her softness. “I’m glad your father’s on his way down,” he muttered, burying his lips in hers for a deep, drugging kiss. “If he weren’t, my resolutions to give you time wouldn’t be worth a damn.” He raised his head, his body taut with hunger. “Is that honest enough for you, Derby?”
She blinked, giving him a sensual look that frayed his control still further. “That was magnificent, my lord, as are you. So magnificent, in fact, that were my father not on his way down, I would suggest you burn your resolutions to ashes and kiss me until I forget all the obstacles that so plagued me last night.”
Dustin searched her eyes, sensing a change that transcended the light, seductive banter in which they’d been engaging. “Nicole.” He framed her face between his palms, frowning as he heard Aldridge’s footsteps overhead. “I’m leaving for Newmarket tomorrow. I’ll be gone several days.”
She was instantly alert. “You’re going to speak with the jockeys on Papa’s list.”
“Yes.” He shook his head impatiently. “We can discuss all that in a minute—with your father present. But before he joins us …” Dustin glanced at the still-vacant stairway, then back at Nicole. “When I return, we need to talk. And I don’t mean about the threats to your father, although I intend to get some answers while I’m in Suffolk. I mean about us and our future. I get the feeling that a few days will give you enough time. Please tell me I’m right, that that’s all the time you need. Because, God help me, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
Slowly, she nodded, her amethyst eyes wide, vulnerable. “That’s all I need. We’ll discuss the future when you return.”
God, he wished he had thirty seconds more. To erase the vulnerability from her face. To reassure her.
To tell her he loved her.
No. She deserved better than to hear those precious words blurted in haste. And, as a man who’d waited forever to say them, so did he.
Bending his head, he brushed a light kiss across
her mouth. “Fear not, beautiful stargazer. Your father will resume racing in ample time to sweep the summer meetings. You have my word. As for those other obstacles, they’re as good as gone.”
Gently, he touched her wishing locket, then released her just as Aldridge descended the stairs.
“Hello, Tyreham.” The greeting was not quite as stiff as Dustin had anticipated, and the man actually chuckled when he saw the abundant trays of food. “How many armies will be joining us for dinner?”
“None.” Dustin grinned. “However, as I was telling Nicole, I’ll be away for a few days. Hopefully, this will sustain you during my absence.”
“Papa, Dustin is going to Newmarket.”
Nick’s grin vanished. “When?”
“First thing tomorrow. The second set will be ongoing for several days. I plan to make the most of that time, learn whatever I can. After which, I’ll stop and check on Sullivan, then return home.” He looked at Nicole. “Incidentally, I don’t want you practicing at Epsom until I get back.”
Her chin came up. “I’m perfectly capable—”
“I know you are, Derby. But the entire racing community, touts, bookmakers, handicappers, are waiting to descend on the unknown jockey I’ve entered in the Derby. We can’t risk exposing you to crowds. With all their voices simultaneously hammering at you, it would be near impossible for you to remain silent. One wrong word might arouse suspicion, and I needn’t elaborate on what that would mean to your Derby entry, not to mention the danger it would expose both you and your father to.”
“How will that risk be lessened by your accompanying me?”
Dustin arched a brow. “I’m very resourceful. Trust me. No one will get near you or become suspicious of why they can’t if I’m there to oversee the situation. Remember, I’ve been preparing for these possible complications from the moment I hired you.”
“He’s right, Nickie,” her father inserted. Meeting Dustin’s gaze, he added, “Don’t worry, Tyreham. She won’t go to Epsom. I’ll make sure of it myself.”