Wishes In The Wind Part 9

The latter was all that mattered.

The former she'd combat ... and rectify.

So saying, she turned her attention to the sleek challenge now stomping about before her. "h.e.l.lo, Dagger," she murmured, walking, slow and easy, toward the magnificent deep brown thoroughbred.

Dagger's head jerked around, and he eyed her cautiously, ears erect as he listened to the sound of her voice.

"Stoddard, I don't know how much Lord Tyreham's told you," Brackley inserted. "But you've got quite a job ahead of you."

"The marquis has prepared me for Dagger's skittishness." Nicole paused, glancing from one man to the other. "May I spend a few minutes alone with him?" she requested. "He'll trust me sooner if he can concentrate solely on me. Distractions will slow down that process. And, as we all know, we haven't the luxury of time."

For a long, thoughtful minute, Dustin a.s.sessed her from beneath hooded lids. Then he nodded. "All right. Brackley and I will wait in my office."

The groom's jaw dropped. "My lord? Are you sure that's wise? Dagger's a handful, even for me to control alone, and I'm twice Stoddard's size."

"Our new jockey is right," Dustin replied, gazing intently at Nicole in silent conveyance of his faith. "Drastic circ.u.mstances call for drastic action. Therefore, if Stoddard feels he can handle Dagger on his own, let's give him a chance. He'll call us if he needs a.s.sistance."

"I certainly will. Thank you, my lord," Nicole responded, grat.i.tude shining in her eyes.

Brackley scowled but said nothing further, following Dustin from the stall.

Nicole waited until their footsteps had faded into the distance. Then, she turned her attention to Dagger.

The thoroughbred stared at her, ears forward, tail swishing nervously as if he were preparing to balk at the slightest provocation.

"You're frightened," Nicole noted softly, wondering what scoundrel had abused this beautiful stallion to make him so apprehensive. "I'm sure you have good reason. But no one here is going to hurt you." Inching closer, she placed a sugar cube on her palm and extended it for his inspection.

Dagger sniffed at her hand, then leaned forward warily before s.n.a.t.c.hing up the treat and gobbling it down.

With calculated deliberation, Nicole remained as she was, making no sudden moves either to shift her palm to stroke him or to s.n.a.t.c.h her hand away. "The marquis is right about you," she concluded, surveying the thoroughbred's powerful body and long, lean limbs at close range. "You are extraordinary. Now we need only reaccustom you to trusting your rider, and victory will be ours. My instincts are never wrong, Dagger. We're going to be incomparable together, you and I."

The horse never blinked. But Nicole could actually sense his fear abate.

Why? she mused. She'd scarcely spent five minutes alone with him, not nearly enough time-skillful though she might be-to accomplish the arduous task of winning him over.

"You're not afraid of me, are you, Dagger?" she confirmed aloud, taking the risk and lifting her fingers to caress his muzzle, purposely keeping her hand where he could scrutinize her every motion.

In response, Dagger whinnied softly, announcing his approval.

Nicole smiled, continuing to stroke the jagged white streak that spanned his muzzle from top to bottom; a stark contrast against his chocolate brown coat. "You were aptly named," she told him, tracing the bold marking with her forefinger. "This does indeed resemble a dagger. But you're not dangerous. You're proud and devoted-if you're treated with the respect you deserve. If only you could tell me who mishandled you. It certainly wasn't Lord Tyreham, nor was it Brackley. The marquis is a wonderful man who believes in you, and who is as devout a horseman as I. And, as for Brackley, I know his manner is curt, but his concern for you is genuine. Yet you don't trust either one of them, not completely. Is it their size? Was the man who hurt you tall?"

In response, the thoroughbred nuzzled the side of Nicole's neck.

Man.

Her own word reverberated in her mind, and comprehension erupted.

"What a fool I'm being," she exclaimed. Glancing about, she leaned close to Dagger's ear, lowering her voice to a breath of sound. "You know who I am-or rather, what I am, don't you? Of course you do. I can fool people, but they haven't your keen instincts. You know I'm a woman. That's why you're unafraid. Of course whoever unnerved you was a man-who else would be tending to you? Well, you need no longer fear such abuse. Lord Tyreham would only hire men as kind and compa.s.sionate as he. And he is kind. Believe me, I know." Nicole's nod was emphatic. "He'll look out for you just as he's looking out for me. As will I. Your future is secure, my friend. But, Dagger," she whispered, "in return, you must keep my secret. We'll let them think it's my size that soothes you-and my skill, of course," she added with an impish grin. "But the fact that I'm female must remain between us. Us and Lord Tyreham. Agreed?"

Nudging her pocket, Dagger hunted for another cube of sugar.

"Blackmail, h-m-m?" Nicole's brows rose, and she offered her coconspirator what he sought. "Very well. Our bargain is sealed. Now, shall we walk the course together? I'd like to have you trotting by day's end and cantering by tomorrow. That way, we'll be galloping by midweek and exploring the training grounds at Epsom by week's end. How does that sound?"

Another whinny.

"Excellent. Let's go."

Forty-five minutes later, Nicole and Dagger were taking Tyreham's course at a brisk trot, the fluidity of Dagger's gait astounding even to Nicole.

"Splendid," she praised, patting the stallion's neck and slowing him to a walk. "You could win this Derby even with a less experienced rider on your back. Your trot is so graceful, I can hardly wait to see your canter. However"- Nicole's jaw set, long years of training supplanting enthusiasm-"wait I shall. Until tomorrow. We've done enough for today, given how long it's been since you were ridden. It's time to cool down and head back to the stables."

For the first time since she'd mounted, Nicole relaxed her concentration enough to take in her surroundings. With a start of surprise, she realized she had an audience.

Dustin and Brackley stood at the end of the course, beaming from ear to ear. Brackley was shaking his head in welcome astonishment, wiping his brow and muttering under his breath.

But it was the look on Dustin's face that made Nicole's heart leap.

Pride, pure and abundant, transmitted itself to her, coupled with a victorious gleam of pleasure.

"Incredible," he called, saluting as she and Dagger approached. "You've humbled us, Stoddard."

"You sure as h.e.l.l have." Brackley was still shaking his head. "I'd never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

"I got lucky," Nicole answered. "Whoever intimidated Dagger was obviously big. I'm short and slight and too young for my voice to be threateningly deep." She tossed them a saucy grin. "True, I'm also a superb rider. And Dagger is a superb mount. The combination is unbeatable. Now, if you'll excuse us, Dagger and I will meet you at the stables."

"You were right, my lord," Brackley stated as their new jockey urged Dagger off. "Stoddard is everything Aldridge claimed he'd be."

"He certainly is." Dustin nodded, his penetrating gaze fixed on Nicole. "Everything Aldridge claimed and more."

Abruptly, he turned away, taking out his timepiece and glancing at it. "Brackley, show Stoddard around the stables, and introduce him to the rest of the staff. I've an interview with a prospective trainer in an hour and a meeting at noon."

"Of course, my lord."

Disregarding Brackley's puzzled expression, Dustin headed off, never pausing until he'd reached the manor, crossed the hall in long, uncompromising strides, and locked himself in his private study.

He was in trouble. Deep trouble.

Pouring himself a drink, Dustin stared out the bay window, oblivious to Tyreham's magnificent wooded acres. Instead all he saw was Nicole, sitting straight-backed in the saddle, as natural astride Dagger as if she'd been born there. She'd handled herself and Dagger with all the finesse of a seasoned jockey, not a novice. Novice? h.e.l.l, his last three jockeys, each boasting a decade of experience, would have benefitted greatly from her instruction, she was that good. His practiced eye had seen Nick Aldridge's influence in every facet of her performance: stature, technique, fluidity, coordination. Even her judgment when it came to a.s.sessing a horse's limitations. She was indeed her father's daughter, reflecting every iota of Aldridge's intuitive skill in the tactics she'd taken with Dagger. In less than an hour, she'd transformed him from an unapproachable tempest to the champion he was meant to be.

She was superb.

But, contrary to Nicole's misgivings, that wasn't the cause of Dustin's inner turmoil.

His lips curved into a mirthless smile. Nicole had accused him of undervaluing her abilities because she was a woman.

She couldn't be more wrong.

Not only did he recognize her exceptional talent, he had no trouble accepting and heralding her as the best d.a.m.ned rider he'd ever seen. In truth, he'd be willing to bet more than his reputation; he'd bet his entire fortune and his whole line of thoroughbreds that she'd win the b.l.o.o.d.y Derby.

Further, he wouldn't deprive her of that victory for anything on earth.

Thus, her concerns were unfounded. Between her skill and his resolve, he'd easily convince the entire racing world that Nicole was Alden Stoddard.

But deluding the public was one thing. Deluding himself was quite another.

This brought Dustin to his true quandary, the reality of which had struck him, full force, as he watched Nicole complete Tyreham's course, her face flushed with the thrill of victory.

He could herald her as a jockey, but he could never-not even for the shortest of durations-view her as a man.

Biding his time had suddenly become an untenable option.

Tossing off his drink, Dustin stared broodingly into the empty goblet.

He'd expected Nicole's masquerade to present difficulties; but never had he antic.i.p.ated his feelings for her to be so powerful that he'd be unable to squelch them, even for a day. Yet, that's precisely what was happening. Just now, seeing those amethyst eyes alight with triumph, her half-hidden face so spontaneously beautiful-jockey cap or not-his conscience and determination had waged major battle with his instincts. Ultimately, he'd needed every ounce of self-control not to haul her off Dagger's back and into his arms, to feel her joy and hail her accomplishment as the wondrous feat it was.

To seal their elation in a dance as old as time.

All of which characterized the very avenue he'd promised Nicole he wouldn't pursue.

So where the h.e.l.l did that leave him? He couldn't elude his feelings, nor could he act upon them. At least not until Nicole made the next move-an unlikely possibility, to say the least. Even under the best of circ.u.mstances, a s.e.xual overture would be as foreign to Nicole as the donning of a corset. And now? Given that she spent every waking moment disguised as a man, coupled with the fact that the rare visits she'd agreed to allow him would occur in her cottage under her father's watchful eye?

The prospects were less than grim.

And Dustin's time was short.

Because once the culprits who'd threatened Nick Aldridge had been unearthed, the cause for Nicole's disguise would be eliminated. At which point, there was every likelihood that she would vanish from Dustin's life as swiftly as she'd materialized, and not only for propriety's sake, for her own sake as well. Dustin could feel her confusion as palpably as he could her awakening. She was overwhelmed by the intensity of what hovered between them. h.e.l.l, so was he. But Nicole was young, inexperienced. Headstrong. Her misgivings would win out over her newfound emotion and drive her away.

It was up to him to get through to her first.

But how?

With a muttered oath, Dustin refilled his gla.s.s, silently berating himself for erecting his own insurmountable barriers. In attempting to put Nicole at ease, he'd succeeded in digging his own proverbial grave. Think, he commanded himself, lowering the bottle of madeira. There had to be a way. A way to keep his promises to Nicole without letting the miracle of what was between them slip through his fingers. A way to maximize their time together; to get her alone without jeopardizing her disguise.

There was.

Dustin's head came up, determination pulsing through his veins. The plan he'd just conjured up involved taking a h.e.l.l of a risk, one that could backfire and wrench Nicole from his grasp forever. On the other hand, it could be just the answer he sought-his only answer.

It was a risk he had to take.

Abandoning his drink, Dustin once again consulted his timepiece, his mind racing ahead. He'd conclude his morning interview posthaste, especially since his final decision was virtually made. Both trainers vying for the position at Tyreham's stables had flawless records and came with glowing recommendations. But Raggert, the candidate who was returning to Tyreham today, had been referred to Dustin by the earl of Lanston, a colleague whose instincts were second only to his own. Lanston had sung Raggert's praises to the skies-a fact that weighed heavily on the fellow's behalf. So, if Raggert were amenable, Banks's job would finally be filled, and Dustin's attention could return where it belonged.

To the Derby.

And Nicole.

Crossing over to his desk, Dustin collected the necessary papers. He would expedite the business ahead. After which, he intended to make his way over to the tenants' section of the estate to hold a discussion whose potential impact eclipsed all else from his mind.

A discussion that could very well determine his future.

No one answered Dustin's knock.

Given the situation, that came as no surprise.

Waiting until he'd given the cottage resident ample time to reach the door and be silently poised to listen, Dustin knocked again, this time quietly announcing, "It's I, Tyreham."

The lock slipped free of its bolt, and the door eased open a bit, then halted, as the still-unseen occupant a.s.sessed his visitor from within. A heartbeat later, the door swung wide. "Come in."

Dustin entered the cottage and faced the slight, dark-eyed man he recognized immediately as Nick Aldridge. "Throw the bolt," he advised. "No sense taking chances." He waited until Nick had complied, then extended his hand. "Aldridge. 'Tis a pleasure."

"An honor to meet you, my lord," Nick replied, gripping Dustin's fingers. "There aren't words enough to thank you for your help."

Waving away the thanks, Dustin glanced about.

"We can talk in the sitting room," Nick supplied. He led the way to a small but cozy chamber. "What can I offer you?" A scowl. "Neither Nickie nor I are very adept in the kitchen. I can't vouch for the refreshments-other than our liquor, of course."

Recalling Nicole's description of her culinary skills, Dustin stifled a grin. "No refreshment is necessary. I ate a large breakfast not too long ago. Besides, I'd rather not waste time. You and I have a lot to discuss."

"Indeed we do." Nick gestured for Dustin to be seated, after which he lowered himself into an armchair.

"First, let me apologize for arriving early," Dustin began, perching at the edge of the settee. "I realize you weren't expecting me until noon. But my morning interview was as brief as it was successful, and, given that I was most eager to meet with you, I took the liberty of coming directly to your cottage. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you."

"Of course not." Nick shook his head, leaning forward with avid expectation. "You had time for a morning meeting? Does that mean the elf-" Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Nicole-brought your stallion around?"

The term of endearment was as touching as the paternal pride that accompanied it. "In record time," Dustin reported with a grin. "Within an hour she and Dagger were trotting, moving together as if they'd been a team for months rather than minutes. Your daughter's abilities are staggering."

Pride glowed on Nick's face. "She is extraordinary, isn't she? A born rider from the time she was a tot."

"So you said in your letter of recommendation."

Nick's smile faded. "I'm sorry for the deception. Had there been another way-"

"There was no deception," Dustin interrupted. "You might have fabricated the name Alden Stoddard, but the many claims you made about him were true."

"Let's not play games, my lord, well-intentioned or not. Your a.s.sumption was that Stoddard was male. There are no female jockeys."

"There are now."

"No one knows that, except Nicole and me. And now you." With that, Nick shifted in his chair. "Pardon my bluntness, sir, but before we delve into Alden Stoddard or the circ.u.mstances that necessitated inventing him, we need to discuss Nicole and your expectations of her."

"I agree. We do." Dustin's tone was equally candid. "You're her father. Air your concerns and I'll address them."

"Fair enough." A flicker of surprise-and perhaps admiration-flashed in Nick's eyes. "To begin with, I'm worried about the idea of Nickie racing."

"You don't think her capable?"

"Capable? h.e.l.l, she's better than nearly every jockey I've ever been up against. What I'm worried about is her well-being."

"Her well-being?" Dustin frowned. "How will competing in the Derby jeopardize that? Are you concerned it's too much too soon? That the pressure on her will be too great?"