“Don’t start that argument again. You’re not venturing from Tyreham until your marquis returns. Now, answer my question.”
“Very well.” She sighed. “The Derby course is in the shape of a horseshoe. The first section is on the ascent, and I’ll reach the top of the hill upon rounding Tattenham Corner. Here’s where my pacing must be perfect. If I ease Dagger around the bend without breaking stride or pushing too hard, we’ll sail easily into the descent. If not, we’ll fly into it awkwardly and either lose footing or momentum—either of which could cost us the race. The winning post is only a short distance from there.”
“So you’ll be prepared for it, there’s a slight rise leading into the winning post. But if you’ve mastered the descent, that should pose no problem.” Nick rubbed his hands together. “Having accomplished all that, at what point do you make your effort, breaking into a gallop that will leave the others far behind and award you first place?”
Nicole smiled at her father’s obvious bias. “Fifty yards from the winning post.”
“Excellent. Better than excellent.” Nick positively beamed. “You’ve never even ridden the course, and your feel for it is exceptional. Between what I’m teaching you and your natural instincts, no other jockey has a prayer.”
“Remember, Papa, count on nothing,” Nicole teased, rising to hug him. “In all seriousness,” she added, sobering, “my instincts alone wouldn’t be enough—not without these sessions of ours. You know more about racing than anyone on the English turf. I’m blessed to have your guidance and your teaching, both of which are invaluable.” A shadow nickered across her face. “At least some trainers are committed to what they do.”
“We’re back to Raggert again.”
“He hasn’t wandered from my side once during the past three days. And, believe me, his intentions aren’t to praise Dagger or encourage me. All he does is grill me incessantly and inspect Dagger as if the poor stallion is bound to slip up and show his true colors at any given moment. Evidently, Mr. Raggert thinks I need constant supervision, and that with Dustin away, it’s his job to provide it.” She shook her head in frustration. “Honestly, Papa, if Raggert spent half as much time scrutinizing the horses as he does scrutinizing me, I might actually believe he’s as splendid a trainer as you and Dustin claim.”
“Is it that bad?” Nick scowled. “I hadn’t realized he was asking you questions. About what?”
“Don’t start worrying.” Nicole patted her father’s arm reassuringly. “He hasn’t a clue who I really am. His questions are all for Stoddard—where Stoddard is from, where did he apprentice, how did he come to work at Tyreham, that sort of thing.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’d apprenticed in Scotland, near the small village where I was born. That Lord Tyreham happened upon me during one of his summer visits to Balmoral and was impressed with my horsemanship. Therefore, when Nick Aldridge was unable to answer the personal, Lord Tyreham summoned me to England and to Tyreham. End of story.”
“Did you mention this fanciful yarn of yours to Lord Tyreham before using it on Raggert?”
“It’s not fanciful, Papa. It’s as close to the truth as I could get, other than the part about my living in Scotland. As for discussing the details with Dustin, no I hadn’t the chance, but I will. The instant he returns from Newmarket.”
“You don’t consider invented visits to Balmoral fanciful?”
“In Dustin’s case, they’re neither fanciful nor invented. His father was a close friend of Her Majesty’s, so the Kingsleys spent many summer days at Balmoral. During one visit, in fact, Dustin saved the queen’s life. That’s how he acquired his title—it was bestowed upon him by Queen Victoria.”
“I’m impressed.” Nick regarded her intently. “More importantly, so are you, not by the title but by the way in which it was earned. Lord Tyreham saved someone’s life, our queen’s, no less. That’s quite a feat.” A satisfied nod. “As your father, I’m also very pleased that you and Tyreham have shared so many personal anecdotes. The acquiring of his title, your locket …” Her father shot her a meaningful look.
“All right, Papa, you’ve made your point. Yes, I told Dustin about the locket. And about Mama.” A soft smile. “The memories just seemed to spill forth on their own.”
“That’s as it should be.” Nick cleared his throat. “Let’s get back to Raggert. Even if his questions are innocent, why the hell is he so curious about Stoddard? Jockeys aren’t his business, horses are.”
“My view exactly.”
“Well, I intend to report this to Tyreham when he returns. He should be aware that Raggert is poking around where he doesn’t belong.” Another purposeful glance. “He should also be aware of the story you conjured up about Stoddard’s background.”
“I’ll tell him.” Nicole’s eyes twinkled. “On the way to Epsom. Where I intend to dash off to the very instant Dustin sets foot on this estate.”
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door.
Nick tensed, his gaze darting toward the hallway.
“I’ll see who it is,” Nicole declared at once, reaching up to confirm that her cap was still in place. “But there’s only one person who ever visits us here.” She crossed the room in a flash. “Dustin must be home.”
She reached the front door … then held her breath.
“It’s Tyreham.”
Those were exactly the words she’d waited to hear, and the voice she’d awaited speaking them.
Turning the key, she opened the door, her heart pounding as she gazed up at the man she loved, simultaneously trying to still her trembling.
“Welcome home, Lord Tyreham,” she greeted him in Stoddard’s voice.
Those midnight eyes delved into her with an intimacy that made her weak. “Stoddard.”
Dustin stepped inside, shut the door.
And Nicole was in his arms.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured, seizing her mouth in a kiss of undisputed possession.
“I missed you, too.” Reluctantly, she eased back, searched his face. “Are you all right?”
“Now I am.” He cradled her against him for a moment, as if deriving strength from the very feel of her.
“Papa’s right inside,” she informed him softly.
“I assumed as much. Otherwise, I’d be doing much more than holding you.” He tilted her chin up. “I’m taking you to the cabin tonight. We’re going to talk.”
Her insides melted. “Only talk?”
That devastating smile. “Knowing what happens when you’re near me, I doubt it.” His expression intensified, his knuckles tenderly caressing her cheek. “For now, I want to hear only two things. First, that you and your father are well and safe.”
“We are.”
“Next, that you love me.”
Nicole’s lips trembled. “I do,” she whispered.
“Say the words.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you.” Again, he kissed her, this time with a wealth of poignant emotion. “I’m never going to let you go, Nicole. Never.”
“Nickie?”
Her father’s voice intruded, and Nicole stepped away, as loath as Dustin to break the intimacy of the moment. “Yes, Papa,” she called back, her voice unsteady. “It’s all right. It’s Lord Tyreham.” She gave Dustin a shaky smile. “That’s as tactful as Papa gets. He knows it’s you. He’s announcing himself before he descends upon our privacy.”
“I realize that.” Dustin captured her hand, intertwined their fingers. “Will you come with me tonight? To the cabin?”
“You know I will,” Nicole heard herself reply. Was it only wishful thinking or had she just offered him far more than a stroll?
“You’re back.” Nick emerged, relief flooding his features. “Is Sully well? Did you learn anything?”
“Lord, I didn’t even ask you how Sully was,” Nicole burst out, blushing profusely as she recognized the implication of her statement.
“You had other things on your mind,” her father surprised her by saying—with a grin, no less. “I didn’t.”
“Sullivan is up and about, restless and irritable,” Dustin reported, Nicole’s hand still clasped firmly in his. “He and Tuttle have become fast friends. Evidently, in between Sullivan’s grumbling, they play cards and argue over which one of them has cheated.” A corner of Dustin’s mouth lifted. “On the whole, your friend is very much himself. The bruises should fade enough over the next week or so for him to leave his quarters and resume his life without having to answer a lot of disagreeable questions. In fact, we’re going to have him as a houseguest the week of the Derby.”
“Sully’s coming?” Nicole demanded, seeing her father beam from ear to ear.
“He is indeed,” Dustin confirmed. “I’ve arranged for him to travel to Tyreham the day before the Epsom meeting commences. Should anyone inquire about his presence, we’ll simply say he and I are discussing a retainer.”
“You’d do well to make that ploy a reality,” Nick declared loyally. “Sully’s one of the finest jockeys in the business, successful, with years of experience. Honest as they come, too.”
Dustin arched a brow. “What makes you think the explanation is entirely a ploy?”
“It isn’t?” Nicole’s eyes widened with pleasure.
“Absolutely not. Oh, it’s a useful excuse, given the circumstances. But, that aside, I’d be honored to have Sullivan ride for me.” His gaze returned to Nick, a sparkle of humor illuminating his eyes. “That is, if you’re amenable to the idea. After all, since I mean to swiftly expose whoever’s threatening you, you will soon be signing an exclusive retainer with me. And I’d never consider hiring anyone you’d prefer not to work with.”
“I’ll manage,” Nick responded, visibly moved by the extent of Dustin’s generosity. “Thank you, my lord.”
“For what? For having two fine jockeys like you and Sullivan on retainer? It’s I who should be thanking you.”
Nicole tapped Dustin’s sleeve. “
Two
fine jockeys? Where does Alden Stoddard fit into that list?”
Dustin’s smile enveloped her in tenderness. “Stoddard is in a class by himself.”
“Speaking of Stoddard, Raggert’s been bothering Nicole,” Nick announced.
Instantly, Dustin tensed. “Bothering her? How?”
Sighing, Nicole relayed the situation to Dustin as she had to her father, including the fictitious background she’d created to ward off Raggert’s suspicions. “Perhaps I’m overreacting,” she concluded, “but he makes me so uncomfortable. And I still can’t rid myself of this feeling that he’s not to be trusted.”
“His behavior does sound odd.” Dustin frowned. “I certainly never asked him to interrogate my jockey, nor to spend an inordinate amount of time watching Dagger, for that matter. I’m glad you mentioned this to me. I’ll watch Raggert closely. Let’s see if he continues to harass you now that I’m home from Newmarket. Oh, speaking of Newmarket …” Dustin released Nicole’s hand, reaching into his pocket. “Your license, Mr. Stoddard,” he proclaimed, flourishing the document
Nicole stared. “You truly got it.”
“Never doubt me, Derby. As I told you, when I want something badly enough, I overcome any and all obstacles.” The look he gave her spoke volumes. “To that end,” he continued, “I’ve also made arrangements for your discreet arrival at Epsom. You’ll weigh out alone while the other riders are parading past the royal stand and cantering toward the paddock. You and Dagger will join them as they reach the starter.” He gave the brim of her cap a teasing tug. “The rest, Stoddard—the race and the victory—are up to you.”
“They’re as good as yours, Tyreham,” Nick assured him. “Nickie’s understanding of the course at Epsom is amazingly thorough. Wait until she’s able to combine her horsemanship and her knowledge—there will be no catching up to her.”
“Which is going to be when?” Disregarding the praise, Nicole seized the opportunity to elicit a commitment from Dustin. “When may I run a trial heat on the Derby course? I’ve stayed at Tyreham the entire time you’ve been away, as I promised. Over the past few days, I’ve ridden three separate trials at your estate, and each evening Papa’s instructed me thoroughly. But learning cannot take the place of firsthand practice. So, when are we going to Epsom?”
“Your logic is extraordinary.” Dustin was clearly biting back laughter. “Have you been rehearsing this speech since I took my leave?”
“Dustin …”
“How about first thing tomorrow?” he suggested, precluding her from launching into her next set of arguments. “I’ll escort you there myself. I’d do so today, but it’s too late in the afternoon. By the time we traveled to Epsom and saddled Dagger, it would be dark.”
“Today is impossible anyway,” Nicole reflected aloud. “Dagger is exhausted. I exercised him twice today, each time for over an hour. He needs to rest.”
“Tomorrow it is, then.”
“At dawn,” she amended.
A deep chuckle. “The moment the first ray of sunlight inches its way over the horizon.”
“Tyreham, about Newmarket, did you talk to anyone, learn anything?” Nick interjected.
“Actually, yes.” All Dustin’s humor vanished. Quietly, he relayed the events of the past three days, beginning with Parker, touching on the unsuccessful encounters with the other jockeys, and ending with his confrontation with Alberts. “Nick,” Dustin finished intently, “Alberts described this third man as a stable-hand type who was tall, with an average build, penetrating eyes, and an intimidating presence. Most distinguishing of all, one of his forearms is severely scarred to the point of looking disfigured. Have you ever seen someone who matches that description?”
Nick’s brows drew together, concentration etched into his every feature. “I was about to say no, but I have a nagging feeling I shouldn’t. Somehow, the mangled arm, the terrifying manner … it all rings familiar.” He massaged his temples. “But why? Dammit, I simply can’t seem to recall.”
“Maybe you had the same experience Alberts did,” Dustin proposed. “Maybe this scarred man accompanied Archer and his cohort when they threatened you.”
“No.” An adamant shake of the head. “Of that, I’m certain. I was only approached by those two men, the same ones who beat Sully and accosted you. No one else. So, under whatever circumstances I might have glimpsed that scarred bastard, it wasn’t on those occasions.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But I keep getting a flash of memory, thinking I’ve seen him. The question is when. And where.”
“Nicole?” Dustin turned to her. “Does the description mean anything to you?”