by Andrea Kane
Besides, bickering with the new trainer was the last hindrance Nicole needed right now. Her riding, most particularly her sessions with Dagger, were the only aspect of her existence that were stable, controlled. Her identity, her home, her world—and now her heart—had all been upended. In fact, her personal life was a tangle of complications, all centered around a man who dominated her thoughts like a fine, intoxicating wine.
Especially after last night.
She paused, her hand on Dagger’s bridle, a tiny shiver of memory rippling through her. Last night. She’d been so consumed with her own vulnerability that she’d scarcely taken time to consider Dustin’s.
He’d shared his dreams with her, opened his heart, and welcomed her in. Never had she imagined such tenderness, such sensitivity from a man of Dustin’s ilk—or perhaps she had. Her heart had always viewed him as a man rather than as a marquis. Maybe it was time she heeded her heart’s dictates.
Her thoughts shifted to those magical moments of sensual discovery.
Enfolded in Dustin’s arms, she’d savored her first taste of passion, cast misgivings to the wind, and let emotion guide her. And, brief though their encounter had been, it had changed everything. After last night, nothing could ever be the same—she could never be the same.
Nor could Dustin.
She wasn’t certain how, she just knew that to be true. Perhaps it was the wonder in his eyes, the helpless trembling of his body against hers. Or perhaps it was insight—the same insight that had drawn them together from the start and the same insight that was propelling her into the future—an unknown future with undetermined boundaries.
Dustin had sworn to conquer each and every obstacle that thwarted their way, make all her wishes reality. And, God help her, she was starting to believe he just might.
“Good morning, Stoddard.”
That deep, unbearably seductive voice that had dominated her dreams resounded behind her.
Slowly, she pivoted—only to find that Dustin was not alone. Beside him was a beautiful, auburn-haired woman with turquoise eyes as clear as a cloudless sky. She was delicate and feminine, and Nicole felt a surge of jealousy so profound it shocked her.
“Good morning, Lord Tyreham,” she replied, automatically lapsing into Stoddard’s voice, keeping her face carefully devoid of emotion.
Dustin looked like he was biting back laughter. “I have a few people I’d like you to meet.”
At that instant, a stout woman scurried up to Dagger’s stall. In her arms was clasped the most precious tot Nicole had ever seen, a tot that was battling for his freedom.
“This is Ariana Kingsley, the duchess of Broddington,” Dustin was saying. “My brother’s wife,” he added. “And the wild man in Mrs. Hopkins’s arms is my nephew Alexander.” He turned to Ariana. “Meet Alden Stoddard, the incomparable jockey who’s going to ride Dagger to fame.”
“A pleasure, Your Grace,” Nicole replied, her relief so acute it nearly brought her to her knees.
“Mr. Stoddard. I’ve heard a great deal about you.” Ariana’s smile emanated genuine warmth, and Nicole could understand why Dustin was so fond of her. “I hope you don’t mind our dropping by. I promise we won’t get underfoot. We’ll only—”
As if to refute his mother’s words, Alexander chose that moment to jerk free of his governess’s arms, shimmy down her skirts, and crawl furiously off.
Dustin snatched him up before he’d gone ten feet. “You are incorrigible,” he proclaimed over his nephew’s howling protest. “Would you like to meet Dagger?” Dustin pointed toward the horse. “He’s new here. You have to be very gentle with him. You remember—I showed you with the others.” In an exaggerated motion, Dustin demonstrated by smoothing his palm down the column of Dagger’s neck. “Like this.”
Alexander’s squirming halted at once, his cobalt gaze fixed on Dagger.
“Would you like to try?” Dustin inquired, urging the child’s arm forward.
Eagerly, Alexander reached out.
Nicole smiled, watching as what two minutes ago was a thrashing lion cub and was now a docile lamb petted Dagger’s neck and back, his tiny fingers light as feathers, his expression awed.
“He’s got an affinity for horses already,” she murmured aloud. “I was like that at his age.”
“The stables are the only place he’s content,” Ariana responded with a sigh. “Other than when he’s sitting triumphantly amid his scenes of destruction.”
“I was also like that,” Nicole admitted with a grin. She turned to Alexander. “Would you like to watch me ride him?”
The child stared at her, as if attempting to discern the identity of this unknown stranger.
“I was about to take Dagger over the course,” Nicole explained to Dustin. “Raggert”—she nearly choked on the name—“is waiting to time me. If things go well, we’ll be making trial runs at Epsom in several days, letting Dagger grow accustomed to the course. In any case, your family is welcome to watch this morning’s practice. I’m sure your nephew would enjoy it.”
Her eyes met Dustin’s for the first time since last night, and everything inside Nicole went liquid with longing. Not only was he magnificent, but he looked so poignantly natural with a child in his arms, and for a fleeting instant, she found herself wishing Alexander were theirs. Recoiling from the realization of how dangerous such thoughts could be—not only to her heart, but to her identity—she averted her gaze, wondering how much longer she could endure this masquerade when she was so in love with Dustin it made her weak.
“That would be wonderful.” Ariana beamed.
“Yes, it would,” Dustin concurred quietly. He ruffled Alexander’s dark hair, then placed him in his mother’s arms. “Ariana, you know where the course begins. Why don’t you and Mrs. Hopkins take Alexander there, and we’ll lead Dagger out in a minute or two.”
“Splendid.” Ariana gave Stoddard a grateful smile. “Thank you for your patience.”
Nicole nodded, watching them make their way out of the stables. “The duchess is lovely,” she said quietly. “All you described and more.”
“I didn’t close an eye last night.” Dustin’s voice brushed her ear. “Are you all right?”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Nicole nodded. “Fine.”
“You didn’t speak a word the entire way home.”
“I had a lot to think about.”
“Dammit.” Dustin’s breath expelled in a hiss, his gaze darting about their section of the stables, now momentarily deserted. “We need to talk. Alone. Tell me when.”
“I don’t know. My father is not in a particularly generous mood today.”
“He wanted to shoot me dead.”
“That was my fault. I’m not sophisticated enough to conceal … certain things.”
Dustin’s swallow was audible. “I should have insisted on speaking with him.”
“What would you have said?” Nicole asked softly, staring at the ground. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Besides, the point is a moot one. Papa doesn’t talk when he’s angry, he shouts, except when he’s truly outraged. In those cases, he stews for a while, then bellows. Evidently, this is one of those cases.” She sighed. “Immediately after shutting the door in your face last night, he stalked off to bed. He hasn’t spoken to me since. By this evening, he will.”
“Derby—” Dustin made a move to hold her, then checked himself. “I’m sorry. I never intended to—”
“Please, Dustin, stop apologizing.” On the heels of uttering his given name, and in her normal voice, she glanced about them, needing to verify that they were not being overheard. Reassured, she met his gaze, whispering, “I wanted those moments as much as you did.”
Emotion—heated, drenching—surged between them.
“I meant every word I said,” Dustin managed huskily.
“I know you did.” Nicole had to fight the relentless urge to fling herself into his arms. “But now is not the time to discuss this.” She wet her lips, her ad
mission emerging in a breathless rush. “I’m having a hard enough time continuing this pretense in light of what’s happened.”
A vein throbbed at his temple. “I need to be with you.”
“Give Papa a few days. Give me a few days to bring him around. Please, Dustin, give me some time.”
Time. Her choice of words seemed to incite a private battle within him. Abruptly, he nodded, his intensity clearly unabated, yet somehow simmering beneath the surface. “Take whatever time you need. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“Will you?” she heard herself murmur, searching his face for some palpable assurance.
Emotion darkened his midnight eyes to near black. “The fires of hell couldn’t keep me away.” His gaze delved deep into hers. “And Derby, in answer to that silent wish you made moments ago, one day the child I’m holding will be ours.”
Eleven
“THAT WAS BREATHTAKING.”
Ariana shook her head in amazement, leaning back from where she’d been perched, whip-taut, on a fence near the course’s end, straining to see Stoddard and Dagger complete their final lap. “I can’t remember the last time I saw such an impressive display of horsemanship. Dustin, you’re right.” She climbed down to stand beside her brother-in-law. “The Derby is all but yours.”
“Two minutes, forty seconds,” Raggert called out from a dozen feet away, looking as astounded as Ariana.
“Two and forty,” Dustin muttered, his expression pensive. “That beats last year’s Derby winner by six seconds. Taking into account that Tyreham’s course is similar in terrain to Epsom’s, and only several lengths shorter, I’d say that’s damned good. Damned, unbelievably good.”
He loped over to his jockey. “Stoddard, you’ve outdone yourself. Do that on Derby Day and first place is ensured.”
Nicole touched the brim of her cap. “I’ll certainly try, my lord.”
A broad grin split Dustin’s face. “Do that.” He glanced at Raggert, who had just reached them. “Do you still think Dagger is hopeless?”
Nicole blinked, astonished that Raggert had openly supplied Dustin with a negative assessment of Dagger.
The trainer’s response astonished her even more.
“I owe Dagger and Stoddard an apology,” he admitted. “I was too hard on them both. Sorry about that,” he said directly to her, a note of respect in his voice. “I had no idea you could ride like that.”
“Dagger’s the one who makes it possible. But I appreciate your praise.” With that, she glanced at Dustin. “I’m going to cool him down, if that’s all right, sir. He’s tired.”
“He’s not alone in that regard,” Dustin noted aloud. “You look rather peaked yourself. You’ve been pushing pretty hard these past few days. After Dagger’s cooled down, why don’t you take a few hours off?”
“Thank you, my lord. I appreciate that.” Nicole understood at once that Dustin was giving her the afternoon not only to recoup her strength but to work things out with her father.
“Are you staying at Tyreham?” Raggert was asking.
“Temporarily, yes,” Nicole replied cautiously. “Lord Tyreham has been kind enough to let me use one of the vacant cottages while I’m training for the Derby. It allows me more practice time.”
“Do you live far from here?”
The queries were innocent enough, but Nicole felt sweat begin to trickle down her back—sweat that had nothing to do with the exertion of galloping the course. “I live in London.” She kept her tone as casual as she could. “The East End.”
“Ah, that would take some travel time.” Raggert bobbed his head sympathetically.
“Yes, too much travel time.” She was being needlessly curt, and she knew it. But, apology or not, she couldn’t shake her mistrust for this man. And his questions, well-meaning or not, were unnerving her terribly.
As if sensing his rider’s unease, Dagger snorted, kicking the dirt.
“Sorry, boy.” Nicole patted his back. “I’d best walk him, my lord. If you’ll both excuse me …” She didn’t wait to be formally dismissed. After all, her responsibility was to Dagger, who’d just reminded her he needed cooling down.
So did her father, she reminded herself a half hour later as she approached the cottage.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the key in the lock. “I’m home.”
Silence.
Squaring her shoulders, Nicole braced herself for the tempest she was about to stir up. What she’d told Dustin had been the precise truth—her father hadn’t uttered a word since she crossed the threshold last night. But the look he’d given her had spoken volumes and, although he’d retired to his chambers posthaste, she’d heard him pacing the floors until dawn.
Silently, she chastised herself for being unable to conceal her guilt and embarrassment until reaching the privacy of her own chambers. Being honest was one thing, being stupid quite another.
She peeked into each room on the first floor, only to find them empty. With a frustrated sigh, she mounted the stairs, bypassing her room and heading directly to her father’s.
He was sitting in an armchair, staring off into space with an expression more brooding than angry.
“Papa, are you all right?”
A tired shrug. “I have no answer for you, Nickie.”
The anguish in his voice tore at Nicole as his anger never could. Slowly, she crossed the room, kneeling beside the chair. “Dustin let me leave early so you and I could talk.”
“That would be fine if I knew what to say.”
“I have a wonderful way to begin.” With renewed excitement, she seized his hands. “Dagger and I completed Tyreham’s course in two minutes and forty seconds.”
Her father reacted exactly as she’d prayed he would.
“Two and forty?” His head came up, triumph glittering in his eyes. “That’s six seconds faster than last year’s winner.”
“Yes. And Dustin said the course here is only a few lengths shy of the one at Epsom.”
“Bloody hell, you’re going to win the Derby!” Nick erupted, nearly crushing her fingers in his. “I knew it. I could feel it. But now it’s on the verge of happening.” He shook his head in proud amazement. “Damn, I’m proud of you, Elf.”
“Thank you, Papa.” She held his gaze. “Your pride means the world to me. If I ever lost it, I don’t know what I’d do.”
One dark brow arched. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? Bringing me around like that headstrong stallion of yours.”
“You know me better than that. Horses excepted, I’ve never ‘brought anyone around’ in my life. I haven’t the tact or the patience for it. And, even if I did, I certainly couldn’t bring you around. You’re twice as stubborn as Dagger. No, Papa, the reason I spouted out my news was because I wanted to share it with you and because it was the perfect way to break the silence that’s separating us. We’ve always been able to talk, and now is no time to let that change. Shout at me if you must. Bellow out whatever anger or shame you’re experiencing, but please don’t erect a wall between us. I can’t bear that.”
“Shout? Bellow? I wish it were that easy.” Nick drew a slow, unsteady breath, then exhaled, his words taut with emotion. “When you were three years old and you played too close to the back end of a horse, I shouted. When you were five, and you took it upon yourself to ride bareback without permission, I bellowed. When you were ten, and you sneaked out, spending the night in the carriage so you could accompany me to the Manchester races, I punished you. But you’re twenty now, Nickie. You’re a grown woman. I can no longer set things right with a word or a deed. Have you any idea how terrifying that is for a father? To realize his child is in danger, and there’s not a bloody thing he can do to save her?”
“I’m not in danger, Papa.”
“Aren’t you? You’re getting more and more deeply involved with a man who, quite possibly, wants nothing more than what to him would be a few days, weeks, or months of pleasure, but what to you is the most preci
ous gift you have to offer—a gift that can never be regained or offered again. And I don’t only mean the gift of your innocence, either. I mean all that goes with it—your heart, your soul, your spirit. You’re just like your mother, Nickie. You can offer no less than all of yourself. Once. To one man. And God help you if it’s the wrong man.”
“It isn’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Nicole scrutinized her father, insight sparking to life. “You don’t believe Dustin is the wrong man, Papa.”
“Belief and certainty are very different. In this case, they’re worlds apart.” Nick scowled. “Besides, we’re not discussing me, we’re discussing you. I asked how you can be so bloody sure Tyreham is the right man for you?”
Wetting her lips, Nicole addressed her father’s question in a way she prayed he’d understand. “You said I’m like Mama, at least in matters of the heart. Well, you’re absolutely right. Mama fervently believed that instincts were miracles; gifts bestowed upon us as guides to our future. And how could I doubt her? After all, her instincts guided her straight to the most wonderful man on earth—you. I remember her telling me it took but one glance for her to determine you were her future, a certainty she didn’t question once in fifteen years. Papa, I got that same feeling when I met Dustin, although I’ve spent every waking moment since then challenging my judgment.” A shaky sigh. “I suppose that’s because much of me is not like Mama but like you, practical, contemplative, considering every possible ramification. But, the fact is, no amount of logic or resistance can alter the simple, inevitable truth—I’m in love with Dustin Kingsley. He’s the right man. He has to be because he’s the only man I could ever feel this way about. I don’t know how to convince you. All I have is a feeling, and feelings come with no tangible evidence to plead their case. They also come with no guarantees, although I understand how badly you want me to have one. Papa.” Nicole’s voice quavered, and she could taste her own tears. “I love him. I’ve tried not to. I’ve done everything I know how to protect my heart. But it’s already lost—no, not lost, given. As for my virtue, which you forfeited a whole night’s sleep fretting over, it’s intact. The ironic thing is that the very man you mistrust is the one who made certain it stayed that way.”
