by Andrea Kane
A pained chuckle. “I expected as much.”
“They wanted me to assure you they’re both well, safely ensconced in a cottage at Tyreham, where Nick stays at all times.”
“I’m sure he’s thrilled with that arrangement,” Sully inserted dryly.
“You’re right, he’s not. But he realizes he hasn’t a choice. As for Nicole …” Dustin’s grin widened. “She’s playing her role to perfection. In everyone’s mind but mine she’s Alden Stoddard, a jockey who’s so damned good, he’ll be riding my stallion in the Derby. And believe me, that’s no easy feat. Like Nicole, Dagger is a handful.”
A faint, proud smile touched Sully’s lips. “The Derby—Nickie’s wished for that since she was barely more than knee-high, from the first time she watched Nick race.”
“So I’ve heard. Well, she’s going to get her wish. And more,” Dustin added with an equal measure of pride. “Not only is she going to run that bloody race, she’s going to win it.” Intently, he returned to the issue at hand. “Sullivan, I’m privy to the reasons for Aldridge’s concealment and Nicole’s masquerade. And I have a strange feeling ‘those reasons’ were the ones who beat you within an inch of your life. Am I right?”
Slowly, Sully nodded.
“Did you tell them what they wanted to know?”
“Of course not. I didn’t tell them a blasted thing.”
“Then they’re probably expecting you to dash off to alert Aldridge.”
“Right. With them at my heels. I already thought of that. That’s why I’m not moving a muscle.” Sully shifted, wincing as pain lanced through him. “Literally,” he muttered.
“Do you want a drink?” Dustin suggested. “It will help ease the pain.”
“Yeah, but not yet. I need a clear head for this talk.”
Dustin nodded, admiring Sullivan’s loyalty. “You’re a good friend. The Aldridges are lucky to have you.”
“It works both ways. Nick would do the same for me. So would the elf.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Dustin leaned forward, gripping his knees. “Can you describe the men who did this to you?”
Sully’s brows drew together. “One was heavyset and short.”
“Blue eyes?” Dustin questioned. “Very pale blue?”
“Yeah. The other was taller, kind of leaner. He had those black, piercing sort of eyes.”
“Dark hair? Dirty? Did the first one have a ruddy complexion, like he’d been drinking?”
A resigned nod. “I take it you’ve seen them.”
“Oh, I’ve seen them, all right. They came to my home. They threatened me and my family if I hired Nick Aldridge.”
“Dear God.” Sully leaned weakly back against his pillow. “Does Nick know this?”
“Yes. His description of the scum who tried to blackmail him at Newmarket matches ours. Same men. Same method.” Dustin rose and began to pace. “How long ago were they here?”
“I was only half awake when they broke in. The sun was just up. I’d say it was six A.M., maybe a little past. What time is it now?”
A glance at the clock on the mantel. “A quarter past ten. What else do you remember?”
“Not much. Other than demanding to know where Nick is, they didn’t talk. Except with their fists.” A pause. “Wait. When they were leaving, one of them called the other ‘Archer.’ I couldn’t see which was which. My eyes were too badly swollen.”
“Archer,” Dustin repeated. “Good.” Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the list Nick had penned. “Sullivan, I know you feel like hell, but I need your help. Aldridge gave me this list of jockeys who have been throwing races for money. He thought you might be able to add to it. If I read you the names, would you be able to concentrate well enough to do that?”
Sully blinked through slitted eyes. “Nick really trusts you, doesn’t he?”
“I hope so.”
“What do you aim to do with this list?”
“Visit every damned person on it until I find someone who’s able to shed light on this scheme and the bastard who’s orchestrating it. You and I both know that these jockeys, like the two ruffians who assaulted you, are just hired hands. I want their employer. Because whoever he is, he’s not only tarnishing the reputation of the turf, he’s endangering people’s lives. People like Aldridge.” Dustin met Sully’s gaze. “And Redley.”
That reference made Sully start. “Nick mentioned Redley?” A dubious pause. “What did he tell you?”
“Only that Redley was killed because he was stupid enough to try blackmailing his blackmailers.”
“That’s all any of us knows.”
“Well, I plan to call on the Viscount Preighbrook, Redley’s last employer, on my way back to Tyreham. Maybe he’ll remember something of consequence.”
“Um-hum. The St. Leger was Redley’s last race, the one he threw riding Preighbrook’s filly Nightingale.” Sully cocked a brow, studying Dustin with shrewd comprehension. “I’m not a suspicious man, but I’m not a stupid one either. You gave Nick a place to stay knowing damned well his presence could put you in danger. You’re letting Nicole run the Derby knowing damned well it could threaten your hard-earned, well-respected reputation as an owner and breeder. The truth is, you don’t have to do either. You’ve got more than enough money to hire people who’ll protect your family and keep your staff honest, which would shield you from this whole ugly mess. Why are you taking such a strong personal interest in the Aldridges?”
Staring at the list of names, Dustin smoothed the rumpled sheet. “My reasons, like my interest, are personal.”
“I gathered as much.” Sully’s eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t help but notice the fervent way you talked about the elf. She wouldn’t happen to be that ‘personal reason,’ would she?”
Dustin’s head came up. “And if she is?”
“Then you’ve got me to answer to.”
“Wonderful. That’s two fathers I have to contend with.”
A reluctant grin tugged at Sully’s lips. “I’m as tough as Nick. Especially when it comes to the elf.” His grin faded. “You care for her?”
“I do.”
“I mean really care for her; you know—decently? Properly?”
“Honorably?” Dustin added wryly. “I’m not stupid either, Sullivan. I understood what you meant. The answer remains yes.”
Sully pushed himself up a bit, ignoring the pain incited by his motion. “Then what are we waiting for? Read me that list. Then hand me that drink. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
It was nearly four o’clock when Dustin’s carriage rounded the bend and pulled through Tyreham’s iron gates.
With a final glance at the updated page of names, Dustin pondered the results of his day.
Stopping at Preighbrook had been a waste of time. The elderly viscount, who six months ago had been merely absentminded, was now totally senile, barely able to recall Dustin’s name, much less the events of last fall’s races. Questioning him had been futile.
So much for Preighbrook.
Sullivan, on the other hand, had been a great help. Not only had he added three names to Nick’s list, he’d provided an update on every jockey’s racing schedule, so that Dustin might be able to find them more easily. Armed with that, Dustin had taken his leave—but not before making the necessary arrangements to ensure Sullivan’s safety.
To that end, he’d assigned one of the Tyreham footmen, Tuttle, to remain at the cottage, tending to Sully’s needs and standing guard in the event the intruders should reappear. An unlikely prospect, to Dustin’s way of thinking. Especially given the fact that they were probably lying in wait, watching for signs of Aldridge’s appearance, or Sully’s disappearance—should he happen to recoup enough strength to dash off and warn his friend.
Unlikely or not, Dustin wasn’t taking any chances. Tuttle would remain with Sully for several days. At which time, Dustin would return, check on Sully, and apprise him of any developments in the investigation.
Despite
a fine show of bravado, Sullivan had looked relieved as hell for the precautions, thanking Dustin profusely after he’d issued an hour’s worth of advice on the proper way to treat Nicole.
That memory elicited a grin. Leaning back against the carriage seat, Dustin pondered Sully’s sage, though pointedly virtuous, recommendations. How many years had it been since anyone presumed to advise him on the handling of a woman? Further, if someone had, would he ever have tolerated such interference, much less sat still long enough to hear it?
Never—until Nicole.
As it was, he found Sullivan’s commitment to Nicole rather touching. Touching and revealing. Thanks to the injured jockey’s sermon, complete with an array of details describing Nicole’s upbringing, Dustin now fully understood the basis for her surprising ease with the male gender, despite her total lack of sexual experience. The reality was that, by growing up at the stables amid a host of men, she’d learned to regard them as family, if not in blood, then in fact.
Dustin had a sudden image of himself traveling to all of England’s stables in an effort to solicit the blessing of dozens of skeptical surrogate fathers.
Ironic laughter rumbled from his chest.
He was still chuckling when the horses came to a halt in Tyreham’s drive. Swinging down from the carriage, he glanced toward the far grounds and made an impulsive decision.
“Quinn,” he called out to his driver. “Ask Poole to have my bag taken in. Tell him I’m stopping by the stables and will be back shortly.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dustin was halfway to his destination when he spotted the subject of his preoccupation.
Nicole.
Astride Dagger, she was cantering the length of the course, her breeches and shirt damp and clinging to her slim, deliberately shapeless form.
Pausing, Dustin watched, impressed yet again by the fluidity of Nicole’s movements, the keenness of her instincts. Head bent low, she was murmuring something in Dagger’s ear, probably alerting him to the fence they were now approaching. The horse responded instantly, gaze focused on the barrier, limbs moving in conjunction with his rider’s commands.
Nicole’s eyes narrowed, her concentration intensifying as she gauged the distance to their goal, adjusted their pace. At precisely the right instant, she acted, leaning into position and urging Dagger up and over.
He responded effortlessly, gathering his legs beneath him and sailing over the fence, landing on the opposite side without ever breaking stride.
“Splendid,” Nicole commended, giving Dagger a loving pat. Sighing, she gazed reluctantly at the position of the sun. “That’s it for today, my friend. Let’s cool down. We’ve got to rest up for tomorrow. Remember, we’ll be galloping the course with Brackley timing us. And, if we’re anywhere near as fast as I think we are, we’re ready for Epsom.”
“I agree,” Dustin concurred, continuing toward them. “You’re superb.”
“Dustin!” Nicole’s whole face lit up. “I didn’t expect you home until tomorrow.” Realizing how inappropriate her enthusiastic and spontaneous greeting sounded, she broke off, her gaze darting about to see if she’d been overheard.
“You’re safe, Derby. No one is about but us.” Dustin squelched the elation spawned by Nicole’s joyous welcome. Coming up alongside her, he matched his pace to Dagger’s ambling walk.
“Did you see Sully?” Nicole asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes.” This time it was Dustin who glanced about. “We need to talk alone—your father, you, and I. Let’s return Dagger to his stall and go to your cottage.”
Nicole’s brows drew together in concern. “All right.”
They exchanged nothing more than casual conversation about Stoddard’s preparations for the Derby until the stables were behind them and the cottage was in sight.
“Are you going to tell me what you learned?” Nicole demanded as they neared the entranceway.
“Once we’re inside,” Dustin muttered back. Noting her worried expression, he added, “Everything is fine, Derby. I promise.”
Relief flooded her face.
“I wasn’t exaggerating, you know,” Dustin commented. “Your riding is magnificent. Watching you earlier was like watching a beautiful ballet unfold.”
“Thank you.” She glowed at the compliment. “Coming from you, that means a great deal.”
“Starting tomorrow, you’ll have the benefit of another professional opinion.”
“Who?”
“Raggert, my new trainer. I don’t know if you recall my mentioning him, but he arrives at Tyreham first thing in the morning.”
“I recall.” Nicole scooted up to the door and slipped the key in the lock. Turning, a mischievous spark lit her eyes. “Raggert—wasn’t he referred to you by that incomparable source of information, the earl of Lanston?”
Dustin came to stand beside her, his lips curving into an indulgent grin. “Indeed. As for Lanston, he might be a virtual wealth of information, but he is also sadly lacking in subject matter. Why, I know for a fact that his previous study is out of the running, presently occupied with the blissful process of reforming.”
“I see.” Nicole raised her chin, lifting those incredible amethyst eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Of their own accord, Dustin’s arms began to reach for her. Forcibly, he checked the motion, clenching his fists at his sides, wanting nothing more than to drag her against him and kiss her senseless.
“Is Raggert’s arrival the reason you returned to Tyreham so quickly?” Nicole asked, easing the door open.
“Ostensibly, yes. Truthfully? No.” Dustin guided her into the cottage, closing the door in their wake. “See how proficient I’ve become with my honesty?”
Another breathtaking smile. “I’m impressed.”
“And I need to be alone with you.”
Concern obliterated the smile. “Very well. I’ll get Papa.”
Dustin shook his head, staying her departure with his hand. “That’s not what I meant. At least not this time.” He drew an unsteady breath. “Nicole, come walking with me later tonight. After we’ve resolved today’s happenings. After the rest of the estate is abed. Just us.”
Warring emotions darted across her face. “I want to,” she admitted softly. “Truly I do. But Papa …”
“I’ll speak with your father. Assuming he agrees, will you come with me? You—not Stoddard. There’ll be no risk. I’ll make sure of it. We’ll stroll the far grounds. No one will see us.” His knuckles caressed her cheek. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Lowering his head, he brushed a swift, heated kiss across her lips. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
His forefinger traced the fine bridge of her nose. “Now you may summon your father.”
Shivering a bit, she nodded, taking a purposeful step backward as if that act alone could sever the currents running between them.
Pausing, she stared up at him.
“Later, Derby,” Dustin vowed, answering the smoky request in her eyes.
Nicole swallowed and turned away. “Papa?” she called in as normal a tone as she could muster. “I’m home. Lord Tyreham is with me.”
“Tyreham?” Nick took the steps two at a time. “You’re back sooner than I expected. What did Sully say? And what happened with Preighbrook?”
“Preighbrook was of no use to us. As for Sullivan …” Dustin imparted the news as gently as he could. “It seems those hoodlums paid him a visit. When I arrived at his cottage, he was hurt.”
“Hurt?” Nick blurted, ignoring Nicole’s shocked gasp. “How badly hurt?”
“He’s fine now.” Dustin frowned, seeing the color drain from Nicole’s face. “Fine and in good hands,” he added, wishing he could comfort her with more than just words.
“What did they do to him, dammit?” Nick exploded.
“Roughed him up. Enough to be painful but not fatal. It’s a ruse, Aldridge. They’re trying to ferret you out.”
“Are they? Goo
d. They can have me.” Nick snatched his coat, simultaneously reaching for the door.
“Papa, where are you going?” Nicole reacted in a flash, grabbing her father’s arm.
“To Suffolk. To see for myself that Sully’s all right.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Dustin warned, planting himself between Nick and the door. “They’re waiting for you to do just that.”
“Then I won’t disappoint them. It’s me they want, not Sully. I won’t risk his life to spare mine.”
“Papa, stop it.” Stubbornly, Nicole tightened her grip. “Dustin said Sully’s fine.” She glanced at Dustin. “You did say that, didn’t you?”
Dustin nodded. “He was beaten pretty badly. I persuaded a local physician to come to the cottage. He cleaned and treated Sullivan’s wounds, then took his leave, promptly forgetting he’d ever been there. By the time I headed back to Surrey, your friend was sitting up and talking—even issuing, advice. I left one of my carriage footmen behind to oversee Sullivan’s needs and safeguard the cottage.”
“Thank you,” Nicole whispered.
“I’m glad I arrived when I did. Sullivan’s a good man. He didn’t divulge your whereabouts, not even when it meant sacrificing his own well-being.” Dustin shot Nick a censuring look. “Are you going to reduce his heroism to nothing more than a wasted gesture by providing those bastards with precisely what Sullivan withstood a thrashing to conceal?”
“Dammit.” Nick raked a hand through his hair.
“Let me put this another way.” Dustin leaned back against the door, arms folded across his chest. “Sullivan insisted I keep you away. I gave him my word that I would. I don’t break my word. Therefore, I’ll wrestle you to the ground if I must. You’re not dashing off to Suffolk.” Studying Nick’s anguished expression, Dustin felt a wave of compassion. “Aldridge, he’s safe. He’ll continue to be safe. Tuttle is a large, powerful fellow. No one will get into that cottage. Besides, in a way this incident plays right into our hands.”
That captured Nick’s attention. “How?”
“If those men are watching Sullivan’s cottage, they’ll have seen my carriage arrive. It’s hard to miss; my family crest is painted on the door, bold as hell. Thus, they’ll know I visited Sullivan—and the condition I found him in. They’ll wonder what we discussed, and if he told me what he refused to tell them—your whereabouts. Maybe they worried enough to follow me on to Preighbrook, in which case they’re probably agonizing over whether I made a connection between your disappearance and Redley’s death. And if they’re still scrutinizing Sullivan’s cottage, they’ll see I left my manservant behind to guard against intruders. All in all, they’ll be anxious enough to pay me another visit, which, if you recall, is exactly what I hoped they’d do. Because once they approach me, I intend to follow them to whomever they work for.”