So, yes, the timing was irreconcilable.
But so were she and Dustin.
Nicole drew a slow, inward breath. There was no choice. She’d have to forget those heart-stopping moments in his arms. They’d been a dream, an illusive taste of forbidden fruit.
She couldn’t risk another bite.
“Elf?” By this time Nick sounded alarmed. “What is it? There’s something you’re not telling me. Is it about those thugs who threatened Tyreham?”
“No, Papa, nothing like that.” Nicole raised her chin, determined to give her father the truth, or at least the part that might appease him.
On the other hand, it might explode in her face.
Reflexively, her fingers skimmed her pocket, grazing the comforting outline of her wishing locket.
“I won’t be alone,” she plunged in. “Even without you or Sully to look after me, I’ll be in good hands.”
Here goes.
“Lord Tyreham will see to my safety. He understands what you and I are up against. He’s vowed to protect us.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“He knows, Papa.”
Silence. Then, “Exactly what is it he knows?”
“Everything. That Nick Aldridge is my father. That you’re right here at Tyreham, rather than in Scotland.” A pause. “And that Alden Stoddard is Nicole Aldridge—and a woman.”
Her father’s jaw dropped. “You told him?”
“Of course not. But then, given the circumstances, I didn’t need to.”
“I think you’d better explain.”
“All right.” Nicole paused only to take a fortifying gulp of coffee. “Do you recall what I told you about the last night in London when I went searching for a copy of the
Gazette
?”
“You said you became dizzy from dashing up and down the streets. I remember.”
A semblance of a smile. “Actually, I think it was more the fault of my strangling undergarments. In any case, I found a private bench along the river walk, where I sat waiting for my lightheadedness to subside. During that time, a gentleman wandered by and offered his assistance.” Nicole met her father’s gaze. “The man was the marquis of Tyreham.”
“Bloody hell.” Nick blinked. “You never mentioned this. Why?”
“At the time, it didn’t seem important.”
“Not important? Nickie, it’s not like you to be so shortsighted. If you’d already met Tyreham—if
Nicole
had already met Tyreham—how on earth did you hope to fool him during your interview?”
“Simple. I had no idea that the gentleman who offered me aid—and who introduced himself only as Dustin—and the renowned marquis of Tyreham were one and the same person.”
“I need something stronger than coffee.” Nick shoved aside his cup but made no move to fetch the spirits he’d alluded to. Instead, he froze, waylaid by a sudden, unpleasant possibility. “When, during this interview of yours, did the marquis recognize Stoddard as Nicole Aldridge?”
The very question she’d most dreaded. Bracing herself, Nicole replied, “At the onset.”
“Dammit.” The very reaction she’d expected. Fiercely, Nick’s fist struck the table. “You’re telling me Lord Tyreham hired you knowing you were a girl?”
“Yes. He didn’t proclaim me an imposter until after he’d engaged Stoddard’s services. He wanted to make certain there was no connection between my arrival at Tyreham and the unexpected appearance of those hoodlums, but, yes, Lord Tyreham knew who I was the instant he saw me.”
A muscle worked in Nick’s jaw. “You knew how I’d react, didn’t you? That’s why you conveniently neglected to tell me all this.”
“I rather suspected, yes. I hated keeping it from you, Papa, but …”
“Well.” Nick was lost in his own reasoning. “This certainly clears up the mystery of why the marquis hired you on the spot, no questions asked. I’d be willing to bet, given the marquis’s notorious reputation with women, that he’d have offered you the job without benefit of my glowing letter of recommendation.”
Nicole flinched. “That’s not fair, Papa. Be angry with me for not telling you everything. Be concerned about how I’ll keep up my pretense now that Lord Tyreham knows the truth. But don’t cheapen me or my abilities by suggesting that the marquis offered me this job simply so he could seduce me. I’m far from stupid, and he is far from desperate.”
The quaver in her voice offset Nick’s anger. “Elf, this is no reflection on you, not your character or your skill. Your horsemanship is outstanding, your character impeccable.” He broke off, grappling to find the right words. “But, as for Tyreham’s intentions—well, frankly, Nickie, I’m not sure you’d recognize seduction if it clubbed you over the head.”
“I grew up in the stables, Papa. I have eyes and I have ears. I know the minds of men better than I do those of women.”
“Growing up amid an army of jockeys who regard you as their surrogate child does nothing to prepare you for …” Again, he paused. “What I’m saying is, despite your experience with men, you have
no
experience with men. Least of all with those as accomplished as the marquis of Tyreham.”
Nicole felt a stab of unreasonable jealousy. “For all we know, Lord Tyreham’s conquests are no more than rumor. You told me yourself your description was based on hearsay.”
“No, what I told you was that I’d heard Tyreham has quite a reputation with the ladies. By ‘I heard,’ I didn’t mean through idle chatter. You know me better than that. My sources are men who’ve worked with the marquis—jockeys, grooms, even some of his own colleagues. Like the earl of Lanston. Surely you recall his name?”
“I recall,” Nicole replied flatly. “You rode his mare in last summer’s meeting at Goodwood.”
“Exactly. Well, the earl and his friends nearly brought
me
to blushing with their constant jabber about Tyreham and his women. They spent more time and money wagering on who Tyreham’s next paramour would be than they did on the upcoming races. I’d repeat some of their banter, were it appropriate for your ears. Suffice it to say that Tyreham’s status—and his popularity—among women is common knowledge. Need I elaborate further?”
“No.” Nicole was suddenly and inexplicably furious. “I don’t want to hear anymore. Moreover, I don’t know, or care, how Lord Tyreham behaves with his paramours. But in my case, he’s been positively heroic. He came to my rescue on the river walk, then again in his study when he offered me the job. Papa, you can’t deny that he’s putting himself, and his reputation, at risk in order to protect us. His reputation with thoroughbreds, not women,” she clarified quickly. “He could be disqualified by allowing me to race, or harmed if those criminals uncover the fact that he’s helping you. Yet, he listened to the details of our dilemma, then insisted upon hiring me
and
upon my moving to Tyreham—with you.” Her brows rose. “Perhaps I’m being naive, but if all the marquis wanted were to seduce me, wouldn’t he be undermining his own plan by boarding me amid scores of tenants, accompanied by my father, no less?” She gestured about the tiny cottage. “In quarters as small as these, I think he’d find it difficult to avoid discovery while conducting a private tryst.”
“All right, Nickie, you’ve made your point.” Nick rubbed his forehead. “I’m not proud of my thoughts. But I’m also not ashamed of wanting to shield you. From everything.”
Nicole’s fingers caught her father’s, wrapped around his calloused palm. “And I’m not proud of having kept this from you. It was cowardly, and for that I apologize. But Papa—” Her gaze grew fervent, silently begging him to understand. “I was so afraid you’d forbid me to race. This opportunity means more to me than anything, save you. It’s the only chance I’ll ever have to run the Derby. So, please, don’t say no. I’m aware you have every right to, and if you do, I’ll march out to the stables this instant and tell Lord Tyreham I must resign. But I’m asking you to give me this chance. Please, Papa, I’ve wished for it forever.”
A tender smile. “Is this one of the dreams kept tight in your wishing locket?”
“One of my first.”
With a hard squeeze, Nick released her fingers, intuition whispering that he was yielding far more than his authority. He was, in some unfathomable way, relinquishing his little girl to become all he had raised her to be.
Roughly, he cleared his throat. “I want to meet with Tyreham.” Holding up his hand, he checked Nicole’s mortified protest. “Don’t worry, Elf. I won’t blurt out my qualms about his reasons for hiring you. If he’s the kind of man you say he is, I won’t need to—he’ll assuage them on his own. Moreover, my concern for you is only part of what I want to discuss with the marquis. Given the fact that he’s now been thrust into this whole shady blackmail scheme, I want to mull over our best course of action.”
“Very well,” Nicole agreed cautiously, experiencing a flicker of hope at her father’s ever-so-subtle relenting. “I’ll tell Lord Tyreham you’ve asked to see him.”
“Good. As soon as possible. Today.”
Hope was eclipsed by fear. “Papa, you can’t leave the cottage. If someone should see you—”
“They won’t and I won’t. I’ll stay safe inside these walls while I wait for the marquis’s visit. Tell him I’ll expect him around noon.” Nick gave the brim of Nicole’s cap a gentle tug. “That, Elf, should give you more than enough time to have his testy stallion eating out of your hand.”
“Papa, are you saying …?”
“I’m saying that the Derby is little more than a fortnight away. So if you want to win it, you’d better go start your training.”
With a whoop of joy, Nicole flung her arms about her father’s neck.
Dustin prowled the stable floor, lost in thought. Arising before dawn had posed no problem today, for he’d never gone to bed. What’s more, he wasn’t the least bit tired.
What he was, was frustrated.
Frustrated and stymied.
Nicole Aldridge. The most breathtaking, unexpected distraction ever to walk into his life.
Refreshing, beautiful, unconventional—if he’d been preoccupied with her before, he was obsessed with her now. Like a lovesick schoolboy, he’d spent half the night reliving the moments she’d spent in his arms, recalled the feel of her: soft and delicate, eager and innocent. As fervent in her masquerade as she was in her awakening. Except that the masquerade was intentional, the awakening unconscious. Unconscious, unintentional, and, as of yet, unfinished.
God, how he wanted to finish what they’d scarcely begun.
He could actually visualize her in his bed, her eyes alight with lavender fire, her skin like silk beneath his hands.
She’d shiver and breathe his name as he went into her …
Dammit.
With a grimace, Dustin halted, shifting to relieve the sudden constriction of his breeches. This was madness. In all his life, he’d never behaved like this, not even as an adolescent with his first woman. Yet now, after but two meetings, he could think of nothing but Nicole, his senses in turmoil, his body rigid to bursting.
He had to stop this insanity. If not for his sake, for Nicole’s. The last thing she needed during the next few critical weeks was to be perpetually reminded that he wanted her and that she wanted him, too. He’d vowed to protect her, to keep her and her father safe. Accordingly, he’d hired Alden Stoddard and, by doing so, shouldered the task of helping Nicole convince the world she was a boy.
Something he could hardly do if the very sight of her—clad in jockey garb or not—made him randy enough to howl at the moon.
What in hell’s name had he gotten himself into?
For starters, an unpalatable mystery that, he was beginning to suspect, delved far deeper than he’d originally assumed. Whoever wanted Aldridge off the turf wanted it badly enough to threaten his life … and the lives of all who aided him. Why?
And at the heart of this thickening mystery was a beautiful woman who made Dustin feel too many conflicting emotions to recount, much less understand.
Hell, even that which he understood was unrivaled in its intensity. Desire, commonly the most uncomplicated motivator, elemental as the physical craving of one body for another, took on a new dimension when it came to Nicole. He wanted her with a gnawing hunger that would tolerate no substitute, a hunger that defied control or alleviation.
And that was but the fringe of his bafflement. Because, beyond her body, he wanted to hold her, to help her, to envelop her in a cocoon of safety. At the same time, he wanted to fling open the world’s portals to her, offer her every iota of reckless freedom she’d be offered as a man and denied as a woman.
He wanted to understand the dreams in her eyes and find a way to make them reality.
How in God’s name could he feel so much, so soon? They’d spoken but twice, their conversations brief, shrouded in secrets, their kisses broken fragments of temptation that were a lifetime from fruition.
The truth was, he didn’t even know her.
And yet he did.
Rubbing his eyes, Dustin tried to assess the situation rationally. He was a grown man, one who’d lived two and thirty years and was seasoned enough to know that experience shaped character. It also molded outlook and modified expectations.
Yes, he was searching.
He’d told as much to Trent. But wishes and certainties were worlds apart. That he retained a flicker of hope was inevitable, particularly after witnessing Trent’s transformation beneath Ariana’s healing love. But a more extensive idealism? A true conviction that a similar fate awaited him as well?
That flicker had long since begun to extinguish.
He was jaded. Or perhaps self-protective was a better word. In either case, it was easier merely to exist than to withstand the constant ache of loneliness. So, unconsciously, he’d blanketed his heart in a tangible, if not unbreachable, layer—a layer he was ambivalent to allow anyone to pare away.
All the more reason to balk at these powerful feelings.
Then why wasn’t he balking?
Because the same wisdom that recoiled from vulnerability recognized the rarity of a miracle like Nicole. And that wisdom shouted that whatever obstacles blocked his path, he couldn’t let her go.
Nor could he hurt her.
Which led to his ultimate dilemma. How could he have her without hurting her?
“Good morning, Lord Tyreham.”
The object of his thoughts hovered uncertainly in the stable doorway. “I’m not late, am I?”