“Where?”
“At a run-down stable just outside London. It was dingy and dark, and once they’d entered the stable, I could make out only their forms. I could, however, hear their words. They entered, met with a third man who was clearly their superior, judging by his denigrating manner. The conversation was brief. They announced the job was done. He threw some pound notes at them, courtesy of their employer who, he said, was feeling generous but who would not pay another cent until they found Nick Aldridge. He then tossed them out. They limped to their mounts and bid a hasty retreat.” Saxon opened a thin portfolio. “At that point, I could have rushed right back to Tyreham, but it stood to reason that I should stay long enough to catch a glimpse of this third colleague.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. When he emerged into the light, alone and unaware that I was present and crouched behind his newly arrived bales of hay, I got a thorough look at him.” With a quick glance at his scribbled notes, Saxon elaborated. “He was approximately five feet ten, of average build, unkempt and unshaven, his hair a light, filthy brown. His eyes were pale blue, icy and penetrating. Most significant of all, he had a massive scar on his left forearm. Quite hideous looking, as your one-time jockey described.” Saxon lifted his head. “The lad who delivered his hay referred to him as ‘Coop.’“
“Coop.” Dustin jumped on the information. “At last we have a name. You said his stable is on the outskirts of London?”
“The East End, to be exact, sir.”
“Dammit.” Dustin began to pace, then winced and stopped. “I want this Coop watched. I want to find out who visits him, how long they stay, and what they talk about. What I
want
is his bloody employer.
He’s
the one with the influence necessary to back a scheme as costly as the one we’re contending with.”
“I quite agree. The sophistication of this operation, not to mention how long it’s been in effect, leads me to believe that this Coop’s employer is a man of some intelligence and power. In order to put an end to his conspiracy, we must put an end to him—in the figurative sense.”
“Right now our only link to this anonymous bastard is Coop.”
“True. So we must lie in wait for him to show up at Coop’s stable.”
“But who do I send to survey the stable?” Dustin wondered aloud. “Who do I
trust
? Moreover, who’ll do the job right besides you? Damn.” Dustin made another attempt to pace, this time disregarding the resulting pain. “I promised Trent you’d watch over Alexander. I also want you to keep an eye on Stoddard. I’m more worried than ever about him. With those lowlifes hunting so hard for Aldridge, they’re bound to learn Stoddard is his protégé. After which, the lad’s life will be endangered as well.” A grim pause. “Especially now.”
“Now, sir?”
“Yes. That’s what I meant when I said ‘Who do I trust?’” Dustin inhaled sharply, turning his head towards Saxon. “During those final seconds when Parrish was punching me, he warned me to stay out of things that don’t concern me, more specifically, to discontinue my late-night talks with my brother.”
“Did he?” Saxon’s brows rose. “Given my uncle’s vigilance at the manor’s entranceway, and the fine sentry duty performed by the guards at your front gates, Parrish’s comment makes me wonder if Coop might very well have a pair of ears stashed right here at Tyreham.”
“Exactly. And I need you to discover the owner of that pair of ears, as well as look out for Stoddard and Alexander.” Dustin scowled. “Which brings us back to the problem of scrutinizing Coop’s stable.”
“The problem’s been resolved, sir. Effecting its solution was the other cause for my delayed return to Tyreham.” Saxon cleared his throat. “After pondering the exact line of reasoning you just expounded upon—other than the final item, which I had yet to learn—I knew it was infeasible for me to be away from your estate. So I took the liberty of summoning a longtime associate, William Blaker, who began with me at Mr. Hackberth’s investigative agency, and who now has a small agency of his own. Blaker is both thorough and trustworthy. We often assist each other when a situation requires more than a single investigator. Still, as I had yet to obtain your approval, I refrained from divulging the details of the case. He knows only what he’s to do, that is, to observe Coop’s stable, keep track of all comings and goings, as well as every caller and the details of his visit. All other specifics—why this needs to be done and for whom— remain undisclosed. Blaker is already posted outside the stable, and intends to remain there until I advise him otherwise. I hope that meets with your satisfaction, my lord.”
“Saxon,” Dustin replied, a glint in his eye, “remind me to increase your wages. I don’t think I’m paying you enough.”
The investigator’s lips twitched. “I’ll remember to do that, sir.” His smile faded. “I’d like your permission to take the next logical step, one I’d intended to take when we returned from Newmarket, had this commotion not ensued.”
“What step?”
“I’d like to question Stoddard.”
Trenton’s knock was firm.
He waited the full minute Dustin had advised him, then knocked again, this time murmuring, “It’s Broddington. I need to speak with you.”
Another prolonged silence, not a rustle of movement from within the cottage.
“Stoddard, open the door,” Trenton added quietly. “Lord Tyreham sent me. I must talk to you.”
The lock turned, and the door inched open, violet eyes assessing that it was, indeed, Dustin’s brother.
“Come in.” She opened the door enough for him to slip through, then shut it tightly in his wake.
“Nicole”—Trenton turned to face her—”I realize you weren’t expecting me, but …” His voice trailed off, and he blinked in astonishment as he encountered Nicole Aldridge, her dark hair flowing loose about her shoulders, her fine features unobstructed by a jockey’s cap. “Damn,” he muttered.
A tiny smile played about her lips. “Does that mean my disguise is effective?”
“It means I must have been bloody blind.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s quite a bit of Stoddard in me.” She indicated her shirt and breeches.
“Yes, but …” Trenton shook his head in amazement. “No wonder Ariana is still laughing over the expression on my face when Dustin announced who you were. I don’t blame her. Until now, I’d always considered myself to be a perceptive man.”
“Perception isn’t the issue here,” Nicole observed softly. “Even if I’d been dressed as myself, your awareness of me would have been casual, at best. In truth, the only woman you really
see
is your wife. Which is how it should be.”
Trenton studied her intently—not her appearance but something more. “Ariana is right. I can see why Dustin feels about you as he does. When this nightmare is behind us, I hope you’ll give us a chance to get to know you better.”
“I’d be delighted, Your Gr—Trenton,” she corrected herself. “At which time I promise to let Alexander tear my cap from my head.”
He chuckled. “That will give my son a great deal of satisfaction. He never did manage to yank off Dustin’s mustache, despite eight months of trying. My poor brother ultimately gave in and shaved it off, right before he met you.”
“You’re being here … Dustin’s all right, isn’t he?”
An emphatic nod. “He’s fine. Stubborn as hell, but fine. He made three unsuccessful attempts to descend the stairs and traverse the hallway, with the intentions of crossing the grounds and coming here, before he finally agreed to let me stand in for him.”
Nicole blinked. “Stand in for him?”
“Yes, to tell you that Saxon has requested the right to talk to you, or rather, Stoddard. Dustin wants it to be your choice as to whether or not you do so—now, if at all.”
Thoughtfully, Nicole chewed her lip. “I suspected this might happen when Dustin told me he’d hired an investigator. Since I’m allegedly Nick Aldridge’s protégé, it stands to reason I’d know a great deal about him, perhaps even something I don’t realize I know. Saxon wouldn’t be very thorough if he didn’t interrogate me.” She frowned. “The question isn’t whether or not I’ll speak with him, it’s whether or not I should tell him everything. On the one hand, I want to protect Papa, on the other hand, perhaps I’d be doing both him and you a disservice if I limited Saxon’s facts. Assuming, of course, I’m even able to convince Saxon that I’m a boy. We’re talking about a seasoned investigator, not an average person. So how do I handle this?”
“You tell him the truth.”
Nick Aldridge’s voice came from across the hall. “Nickie,” he added, walking over to them. “We’ve come too far to back down. We’re on the brink of discovery, and to keep things from Tyreham’s investigator would be to impede his progress and keep the duke’s son in danger.” Turning to Trenton, he extended his hand. “I can tell without asking that you’re Tyreham’s brother. You look just like him. I’m Nick Aldridge.”
Trenton grasped Nick’s fingers in a firm handshake. “I’ve seen you race. You’re extraordinary.” A smile tugged at his lips. “As for family resemblance, perhaps earlier today I could have said the same about you and Nicole. But not now.”
“Ah, you’re seeing Nickie for the first time,” Nick realized aloud. “Well, no offense taken. Other than her love for horses and a few less admirable traits, she is, overall, not me but very much her mother.”
“Trenton,” Nicole interrupted. “Did Saxon learn anything new?”
The barest hint of a pause. “Nothing monumental.”
“In other words, Dustin instructed you not to say anything.”
“In other words, Dustin informed me he’d discuss it with you later. Right now, he wants you to redon your disguise and come with me to the manor.”
“I thought you said he was letting me make the decision about whether or not I speak with Saxon.”
“He is.” A twinkle. “But he’s
not
letting you make the decision about whether or not you speak with
him.
Apparently, you and he scheduled a discussion for this evening. He intends to hold it. He also intends to have someone escort you to the manor. And I’ve been appointed.”
“That settles it,” Nick put in. “Go with the man, Nickie. Talk to this Saxon. Answer his questions—
all
of them. Then do the same for the marquis.” He held her gaze. “And, Elf, afterward, should Saxon wish to speak with me, the answer is yes.”
“Papa, are you sure?”
“I’m sure. He’s welcome to come here and ask whatever questions he chooses.”
“Very well.” She glanced down at her shirtfront, realizing she lacked her requisite binding, and headed off to effect her transformation. “Excuse me.” She snatched her jockey’s cap from a nearby side table. “Alden Stoddard will be down in a moment.”
“Thank you, Broddington,” Nick said when they were alone. “I don’t think Nickie realizes how vulnerable she is right now. I worry every minute she’s by herself.”
“You can rest easy,” Trenton replied. “I know my brother. And he won’t let any harm befall Nicole. Ever. Moreover, it’s
I
who should be thanking
you.
By trusting us, you’re taking a risk. All I can say is, you won’t be sorry.”
“No, I don’t expect I will be.”
“One last thing. Does the name Coop mean anything to you?”
“Coop?” Nick frowned. “Not offhand, no. Should it?”
“That’s the man with the scarred forearm. Dustin thought the name might trigger something.”
“I wish it would.” Nick rubbed his chin. “That damned man’s been on my mind since Tyreham first brought him up. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out where I saw him. That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying. I haven’t. And I’ll remember yet.”
“I’m sure you will.” Trenton glanced up as Nicole descended the stairs, tucking pins beneath her cap. “Well, Tyreham’s famous jockey has returned. Shall we go?”
“Yes. Immediately.” Nicole drew an unsteady breath. “Before I lose my nerve.”
“Don’t be so skittish, Stoddard.” Saxon flipped through his portfolio, frowning as Stoddard paced circles about the library. “I’m merely going to ask you a few routine questions.”
“I’m sure you are.” Nicole came to an abrupt halt. “But my answers are going to be anything but routine.”
A pucker formed between the investigator’s brows. “Why do you say that?”
Crossing the room, Nicole tugged open the library door, peering into the hallway. Relief flowed through her as she saw Trenton posted on the opposite wall, standing guard as he’d promised. He gave her a nod of encouragement, and, smiling shakily, she retreated back inside, closing the door in her wake.
“The duke is protecting our privacy,” she told Saxon. “As I’m sure you’ve been informed, there’s a possibility that someone at Tyreham is untrustworthy. And it’s imperative that no one overhears this conversation. Only the marquis and his family are privy to what I’m about to tell you.”
Saxon lowered his portfolio. “With all due respect, I’ve been provided with full details of …”
“No, you haven’t.” Nicole approached him, lowering herself to the leather settee. “Not because Lord Tyreham didn’t trust you but because he was protecting me.”
“You’re Nick Aldridge’s protégé.”
“I’m Nick Aldridge’s daughter.”
The portfolio struck Saxon’s lap with a thud. “Pardon me?”
Quietly and without hesitation, Nicole filled in the pieces Saxon had been denied. “Lord Tyreham gave us a place to stay, an income, and his word that no one would know my identity or Papa’s whereabouts. But now that you’re privy to both, I hope it will help.”
“Well,” Saxon said after a moment, “so much for my questions about whether or not you’ve heard from Aldridge. Obviously you have”—an ironic lift of his brows—“daily.”
“Papa’s offered to speak with you. At the cottage.”
“Excellent. I’ll do so first thing tomorrow.”
“Please, sir.” Nicole leaned forward. “Come before I leave for the stables at six. I won’t let Papa answer the door, nor would it appear natural for you to be visiting Stoddard’s father.”
“I agree. However, given that you’ll be traveling with Lord Tyreham to Epsom tomorrow, and given that I’ve been hired to act as Lord Tyreham’s driver, it would be perfectly logical for me to visit Stoddard to make arrangements for the trip.” Saxon rose, closing his portfolio with a flourish. “I’ll be there at half after five.”