“What do you suggest I tell your new trainer?” Nicole questioned with a hint of distaste. “He’s expecting us to move on to the course at Epsom immediately.”
“I’ll handle Raggert,” Dustin assured her. “I’ll simply tell him the truth without embellishing on it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ll remind him that I don’t want scores of money-hoarders converging on you at once. He needn’t be aware that you’re a woman to understand some of what you’re up against. After all, Stoddard is an unknown jockey riding a questionable mount. I’m sure Raggert will see the prudence of delaying your public trials until my return. Besides, the Derby isn’t until the twenty-sixth, and you’re already timing well enough to win the bloody thing. Believe me, Derby, Raggert won’t have a problem with my orders for you and Dagger to remain at Tyreham. I’ll just instruct him to vary the path of the course so Dagger’s trials don’t become monotonous. We’ll have more than enough time to practice at Epsom. The other horses won’t arrive until the twenty-fifth, possibly a day sooner. By then, we’ll have long since vacated the race course.”
“And when do you intend us to return?”
A grin. “On the twenty-sixth. After the other contenders have left the paddock and are lining up. Just in time for the Derby to commence. Relax, sweetheart. I know what I’m doing.”
The endearment slipped out of its own accord, and Dustin mentally kicked himself as he saw Nick’s jaw tighten a fraction.
He steeled himself for an outburst, one that never came.
“The marquis is right.” Aldridge shot Dustin a look that clearly stated he was squelching his personal feelings in lieu of resolving a more crucial matter: ensuring Nicole’s safety. “We can’t take any chances of being discovered. As it is, I’m uneasy as hell since Raggert got here.”
Nicole’s head came up. “You feel that way about him, too?”
“Of course. He’s the first person staying at Tyreham who actually knows me. I’m skittish every time I go to the window, thinking that maybe he’ll pass by and spot me.”
“Oh.” Nicole’s face fell. “I thought you meant—never mind.” Her voice trailed off.
Thoughtfully, Dustin studied her reaction. “You don’t like Raggert. I sensed that on the course and again now. Why?”
An uncomfortable silence.
“I’d appreciate an answer.”
“I’d rather not give one. As usual, I’ve inserted myself where I don’t belong.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” A long pause. “Nicole?” he prodded.
She sighed. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t address this issue. It is, after all, none of my business, but, if you insist, no. I don’t like Raggert, nor do I trust him.”
“Why?”
“Gut instinct. That and the fact that I don’t agree with his training methods.”
“His training methods?” Dustin’s brows arched. “When did you see him train?”
“I didn’t, but I’ve certainly heard him spout his opinions.”
“Nicole, the man’s qualifications are flawless, as are his references. He worked for Lanston for two years, and the only reason Edmund let him go was because his regular trainer returned from an agreed-upon leave of absence. I myself interviewed Raggert twice. He impressed the hell out of me. He’s intelligent and knowledgeable. As for his opinions, we discussed those, too, including the techniques he employs with every manner of thoroughbred imaginable. No, we didn’t agree on everything, but he was blunt about his weaknesses as well as his strengths, and I saw absolutely no indication that he was untrustworthy. Further, I’ve seen him handle horses, and he’s more than capable.”
Nicole rolled her eyes.
“It’s apparent that our instincts conflict here,” Dustin concluded. “And, at the risk of sounding pompous, mine are quite good.”
“Obviously not as good as mine.”
Dustin was torn between laughing and throttling her. “Aldridge?” He turned to her father for corroboration. “What’s your opinion of Raggert?”
“I’ve already told you,” Nick replied, with a puzzled glance at Nicole. “He’s good. Oh, I’ve heard he’s a little particular about the mounts he works with, but he makes no secret of that fact. If he likes what he’s got to train, he’s said to be one of the best. Not to mention the fact that he’s been on the turf for years. If I remember right, I once heard something about him wishing he could have been a jockey. Unfortunately, nature had other ideas. He grew way too tall and lanky. So he took another path.” A shrug. “He’s obviously committed to his training.”
“But not to what he trains,” Nicole countered.
Her father eyed her with tolerant affection—and a dash of pride. “Not everyone reveres horses as you do, Elf. To a lot of men this is a job. They do it well and with great integrity, but they don’t necessarily have a personal attachment to each of their mounts.”
“More fools they.”
Dustin frowned, troubled by the intensity of Nicole’s reaction. “Put intuition aside for the moment. Give me specifics.”
“I have none. Other than the fact that he spoke of Dagger as if he were a wild and unwanted beast.”
“Well, he was—with everyone but you.”
“Raggert had no faith in Dagger’s skill or potential.”
“He told me that from the start. It was one of the things we disagreed about. I was fully prepared to leave Dagger’s transformation to you and my other thoroughbreds to Raggert, but be fair. Raggert’s reasons for doubting Dagger were sound. The poor man had endured months of unrewarded efforts at Lanston. He was quick to apologize today when he saw the amazing progress you’d made with our soon-to-be champion.”
“Quick to apologize? I’m not a child, Dustin. I don’t need pacifying. What I need is a trainer who believes as I do—that every horse can be reached if the right approach is used. He condemned Dagger as hopeless. That’s inexcusable.”
“To most everyone Dagger did appear hopeless.”
“Raggert isn’t everyone. He’s a trainer, and a good trainer would have sensed Dagger’s promise. You did. I did. Why didn’t Raggert?”
“His instincts failed once.”
“He has no instincts. Not for horses. He has competence but no instincts.”
“Nicole, you’re letting emotion interfere with logic.”
“I’m seeing things as they are.”
“You’re unreasonable.”
“I’m right.”
“I’m hungry,” Nick announced. “So if the two of you are going to stand here and bellow at each other, I’ll roll that tray into the dining room and eat all the lamb myself.”
Dustin’s gaze met Nicole’s, and, simultaneously, their glares transformed to grins.
“Truce?” Dustin suggested.
“Granted—but only because I don’t want Papa to eat my portion.”
The three of them pushed the cart through the hall and into the kitchen. Nick proceeded to make up plates of food, which Nicole and Dustin carried into the dining room.
“This must seem odd to you,” Nicole commented, laying out the silver. “Setting a table. Serving yourself—in any capacity, much less at mealtimes.”
A corner of Dustin’s mouth lifted. “This is one argument you’re going to lose, Derby. I’m actually more adept in the kitchen than you are.”
“Really? When do you have the opportunity to frequent a kitchen?”
“Every time I visit Spraystone. That’s Trent’s Isle of Wight retreat,” he explained, chuckling at Nicole’s dubious expression. “I’ll have to take you there sometime. It’s on the isle’s east coast, near the town of Bembridge and not too far south of Osborne Bay. The estate consists of a cottage, an enormous barn, every possible animal you can imagine, acres of land to explore, and a breathtaking charm that defies words. You’d love it. Trent and Ariana certainly do.”
“They employ no servants there?”
“Only two, neither of whom li
ve at the cottage. Much of the time Trent and Ariana are on their own. As am I, especially on those occasions when I travel to Spraystone alone, simply to bask in the peace and beauty it offers. On those visits, not only do I survive a total lack of servants but a total lack of even the most basic assistance. Why, not even Ariana and Trent are present to aid in my survival. Yet I do remarkably well—for a marquis, that is.”
Nicole flushed. “Touché, my lord. I’ve done it again— branded you unfairly.”
“I might forgive you—for a price.”
A golden spark lit her eyes, turning them that magnificent shade of violet. “And what is your price?”
Leaning forward, Dustin hooked a forefinger beneath her chin. “Several minutes alone after dinner,” he murmured too quietly for her father to hear in the kitchen. “The entirety of which will be spent kissing me good-bye.”
“Such ambitious terms, my lord.” She smiled. “I accept.”
“Good.” He stepped away just before Nick reentered the dining room. Waiting until the older man was seated, Dustin slipped into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a bottle of champagne and three stemmed glasses. “Before we eat, we must properly celebrate by toasting your extraordinary achievement today, Derby.” He brandished the first piece of gleaming crystal, placing it on the table before Nicole. “Two minutes forty seconds—you are indeed astounding.”
“I …” Nicole looked from the champagne to Dustin, her face alight with pleasure. “Thank you, my lord.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, savoring her reaction. God, to see that joy on her face—he wanted to give her the world.
Forcibly, he averted his gaze, turning his attention to uncorking and pouring the champagne.
“To Alden Stoddard,” he stated simply, raising his glass. “For the brief time he exists, may he take the Derby—and the ton—by storm, leaving them with a memory they’ll never forget and a record that will go down in history.”
“I echo that,” Nick declared. “To Stoddard. May he be both the first woman and the fastest man to ever pass the winning post.”
“Thank you,” Nicole murmured, her voice choked. “I shall do my very best to make that wish a reality.”
“Secure it in your locket,” Dustin suggested tenderly, “but only for a fortnight. After that, it will be fulfilled and, thus, released.”
Nick’s glass lowered with a thud, his astonished gaze moving from Dustin to Nicole to her locket.
Abruptly, Nicole jumped to her feet. “This lamb is delicious,” she proclaimed, taking up her plate. “I think I’ll help myself to another portion. Excuse me.” She bolted into the kitchen.
For a long moment, Nick simply gaped, his stare finding its way back to Dustin.
“You know about Nickie’s locket?” he managed. “She’s never told a soul …”
“I realize that.” Dustin leaned forward. “Nicole’s sharing the story of her locket with me was as precious a gift as the one her mother gave her. And I’m not referring to the locket itself, because what your wife truly gave Nicole, albeit intangible, was far more valuable than any piece of jewelry could ever be. She gave her the gift of dreams and hope and prayers. Well, Nicole has given the same to me. I intend to treasure those gifts not only now but always. More importantly, I intend to cherish—and sustain—the miraculous gifts that inspired their offering, Nicole’s trust and, I pray, her love.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, Tyreham, I do.” A glint of something—realization?—flickered in Aldridge’s eyes. When it vanished, so did his tension. “I see and I remember. It hasn’t been so very long since I fell in lo—ah, Nickie, you’re back,” he broke off, greeting his daughter as she reentered the room. “The marquis was about to pour another round of champagne.”
Nicole blinked. “We’ve scarcely finished the first round.”
“So what?” Nick grinned, handing Dustin the bottle with a definitive nod. “The way I see it, we have a lot to celebrate.”
“What exactly happened between you and Papa while I was in the kitchen?” Nicole asked several hours later as she walked Dustin to the door. “For the duration of the evening you behaved like old friends. Also, why was he so willing to give us this time together?”
Dustin captured her hand in his. “This isn’t the first time he’s allowed us time alone.”
“Allowed us, no. Urged us, yes. Dustin, did you hear him when he went upstairs? He was actually whistling. Whistling. What on earth happened that I missed?”
“Your father and I toppled one of those supposedly insurmountable obstacles you spoke of,” Dustin replied, drawing her into his arms. “A most important one.” He tunneled his fingers through her hair. “Kiss me.”
“Dustin …”
“My price, if you recall.” He covered her mouth with his. “Several minutes. That did not include conversation.”
Laughing softly, Nicole twined her arms about his neck. “As you wish.”
“Ah, my love, this is only the beginning of what I wish for us.”
He took her mouth with a possessiveness he made no attempt to hide, fitted her body against his until she shivered at the blatant evidence of his arousal.
“Nicole.” He breathed her name, his tongue stroking hers, his arms tightening, drawing her closer, harder, against him. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
She was shaking—and not with fear. “I think so,” she whispered. “Yes.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“Oh, Dustin, you already know I want you.”
“I dream about being inside you.”
“Oh … God.” Nicole shuddered, clinging to him as his hand shifted, easing upward to cup her breast. Her nipple hardened the instant his thumb brushed across it—once, twice—and without even realizing it, she leaned into the contact, invited more.
“I go up in flames just touching you. When I finally have you, I think I’ll die.” With the greatest effort, he lifted his head, watching her face as he continued to stroke her nipple. Slowly, he bent, surrounding the hardened peak through her gown, tugging lightly.
She whimpered, and Dustin acted at once, straightening to cover her mouth with his, capturing the muted sound. “You’re beautiful,” he managed in a voice too rough to be his. “And I’d best stop now before every shred of my sanity dissipates and I forget where we are.”
“I’ve already forgotten,” she admitted breathlessly. “But that comes as no surprise to you, does it?”
In answer, Dustin drew away, framing her hot face between his palms. “You have the mistaken notion that I’ve traveled this road before. I haven’t. Ever. With anyone. What I’m feeling now is as new to me as it is to you and equally as precious. If you believe nothing else, believe that, because I’m not leaving this cottage until you tell me you do.”
A dreamy smile touched Nicole’s lips. “Then perhaps I’ll alter my original decision to say I believe you. In that way, I can delay your good-byes indefinitely.”
With a groan, Dustin lowered his head again, kissing her until the very earth seemed to move. “Once I have you, there will be no good-byes,” he breathed into her lips. “I’m going to stay inside you, fill you until we’re one, pour my soul into yours until neither of us is ever empty again.”
“For how long?” Even as the question tumbled out, her amethyst eyes widened with dismay, clearly conveying her desperate wish to recall it.
“Forever.” The need was too great, the words emerging with a will all their own. “Nicole, don’t you understand? I love you.”
The declaration hovered, then sank in, feeling more right than even Dustin had imagined.
Nicole’s lips trembled, and two tears trickled down her cheeks.
Irrational fear tightened Dustin’s chest, and his arms locked about her, staying any chance of flight. “Sweetheart, don’t be frightened. And for God’s sake, don’t pull away. You don’t have to answer. You don’t have to say a bloody th
ing. I promised you time, and I intend to give it to you. Please darling, don’t cry.”
“I won’t pull away. I can’t help crying. And frightened? I’m more than frightened. I’m terrified.”
“Why? Because I love you?”
“No,” she replied, her slender body quivering with emotion. “That alone wouldn’t terrify me. The reason I’m terrified is because I love you, too.”
Twelve
NEWMARKET WAS BUSTLING WITH activity, much as Dustin had expected. With the second spring meeting commencing the next day, thoroughbreds were beginning to arrive, both from the nearby stables and from afar by rail, and anxious owners were muttering to trainers who, in turn, were issuing last-minute instructions to their head lads.
“Shall I accompany you, my lord?” Saxon inquired quietly as Dustin alit from the carriage.
“That won’t be necessary, no. I have yet to delve deep enough to frighten whoever’s at the helm of all this into ordering his hoodlums to stifle me. However, my open and intensive grilling of his conspiring jockeys should change that.” Dustin’s gaze swept the small crowd of people. “Even then, I doubt those bastards would be stupid enough to accost me in the center of Newmarket.”
“Hardly, sir. Still, I won’t venture far. Just in the event you need me.”
“I appreciate that, Saxon.” Dustin withdrew his timepiece and glanced at it. “I’ll meander through the paddock and see who’s about. Then, I’ll pay a visit to the Jockey Club and finalize the details for my entries at Epsom. I don’t expect to learn too much today. Many of the jockeys are still arriving. Still, it’s a start. Tomorrow will be even more productive.”
“Yes, sir.”
With the impersonal nod one would give one’s driver, Dustin strode off, making his way to the front of the stands along the Rowley Mile Course. Casually, he surveyed the thoroughbreds, sizing up their potential out of sheer force of habit.
“Tyreham.”
A familiar voice brought him around, and Dustin turned to see a tall, impeccably dressed gentleman approach.
“Lanston,” Dustin greeted his friend, “good to see you.”