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He pressed her palm to his lips. “You were astonishing. I’ve never seen such extraordinary riding in my life.”
“Neither have I,” Sully agreed, following Nick out of the kitchen while casting repeated, worried glances at him.
“Here’s your tea, Nickie.” Nick handed her a cup, still white-faced with the realization that his precious daughter could have been killed today. “Tyreham, do you and Saxon want another brandy? I’m having a third. Lord knows, I need it.” Even as he spoke, he was sloshing brandy into a glass. “I still can’t believe Raggert cut those straps.”
“Well, he did,” Saxon said quietly from the armchair in which he sat. “Although no one besides us and the duke and duchess of Broddington knows it. I’m only sorry I couldn’t get to the race in time to spare Miss Aldridge from her harrowing experience.”
“I’m not,” Nicole assured him, sipping her tea. “Much as I detest Raggert and what he did, I loved every minute of that race—even the most challenging seconds when I was scared silly. If you’d arrived in time to delay the starter’s flag, you would have had to provide an explanation. Lanston might have eluded us, and I would have had to forfeit my entry and my victory.”
“Not necessarily in that order of importance,” Dustin commented, his lips twitching.
“Speaking of Lanston,” Sully chimed in, “how did he behave during that bitter battle for first place?”
“Like a drowning man fighting for air,” Dustin supplied. “Oh, he was gracious as hell when the judges’ decision was announced, offered repeated congratulations to both Stoddard and me, but his pretense was far from convincing. In truth, he was white with fury. I think he wanted to kill me.”
“How could he think the judges would rule in his favor?” Sully barked. “The elf not only won bareback, she took the time and care to move aside so no one would be hurt or even slowed by that saddle when it sailed off. She lost ten good seconds doing that, if you ask me. Her winning time should have been reduced to two minutes twenty-nine seconds.”
“Two minutes thirty-nine seconds is fine with me,” Nicole demurred, “as is winning by a neck. My dreams were to run in the Derby and to win it. In committing those wishes to my locket, I didn’t specify an exact distance, by which I needed to win nor a specific time frame in which I had to do so.”
Throughout Sully and Nicole’s exchange, Nick had been staring broodingly into his brandy. Now, he slammed his goblet onto the side table, facing Dustin with blazing eyes. “Tyreham, what the hell is the matter with you? You allowed everyone on the turf to believe that some unknown, jealous mischief maker tampered with Dagger’s tack when you know damned well that bastard Lanston paid Raggert to hurt my daughter. Not only are you letting them both walk free and unaccused, you’re sheltering that son of a bitch Raggert under your roof, letting him keep his job. Have you lost your bloody mind?”
“Papa.” Nicole emitted a tolerant sigh. “Please stop bellowing and try to be rational. What good would it have done for Dustin to accuse Lord Lanston? What proof do we have? The tack Mr. Saxon found only condemns Raggert. Lanston could simply deny knowledge of the whole crime and walk away virtually unscathed. And since he’s the one we want, we have to tread very carefully.”
“Your daughter is right, sir,” Saxon concurred.
“I don’t give a damn.” Nick continued to glare at Dustin even as he addressed Nicole. “El
f, you could have been killed. It seems to me that protecting you and punishing the men who threatened your life should be first on the list of your husband-to-be.”
“Papa …”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Dustin squeezed Nicole’s fingers and released them, leaning forward to meet Nick’s gaze. “Your father is right. It’s time I shared my plan with him—and with you.”
“Plan?” Nick demanded. “What plan?”
“The one Saxon and I worked out.”
“Actually, Lord Tyreham is being unduly modest,” Saxon inserted. “The idea was, for the most part, his. I merely elaborated on it.” A grin. “As I said, sir, you’d make an excellent investigator.”
“Dustin?” Nicole set down her teacup, brows drawn in puzzlement. “You didn’t mention any plan to me.”
“I intended to—after you’d had a chance to recoup your strength and I mine.” He stared into his empty goblet, his voice growing hoarse with emotion. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover from the dread I felt watching you slide wildly from side to side as you tore around that corner. I was so terrified you’d—” He broke off, swallowing.
“Well, by the grace of God, Nickie is fine,” Nick said in a mollified tone. “So tell us what plan you’re talking about.”
Dustin looked up, the predatory fire in his eyes burning away all traces of vulnerability. “The plan that begins with my feigned ignorance of Raggert’s guilt in severing those straps, despite the fact that I’d like to break every bone in his contemptible body, and culminates in sending him, Lanston, and all their filthy colleagues to prison. The plan that will further result in reinstating you as England’s finest jockey and in giving me the miracle I’ve awaited forever—your daughter as my wife.”
Eighteen
“STODDARD! ARE YOU UP to being at the stables this morning?” Brackley tossed aside Blanket’s saddle and hurried up to Nicole.
From the corner of her eye Nicole saw Raggert step out of Blanket’s stall.
“I’m fine, Brackley. Thanks.” She gave him a faint smile. “Although I’m not eager to relive yesterday.”
“I don’t blame you. You could have been killed.” He patted Nicole’s shoulder. “Like I said yesterday, you’re one hell of a jockey. That Derby will go down in history.”
“I hope so. Because it’s my first and my last.”
