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“And you called me arrogant?” Nicole murmured, shivering a bit as he nuzzled the sensitive underside of her forearm. Lashes lowered, her expression was an open contradiction of dazed awareness and stubborn denial as she struggled to retain her train of thought. “Dustin, what I said about Papa—you knew, didn’t you? That he’s in trouble, I mean. Whatever occurrence preceded my arrival, it alerted you to that fact.”
“Yes. I knew.” He hesitated. “Two men called on me this morning just prior to your visit. It seems they spotted my personal in the Gazette and would prefer I not hire your father. They told me so in no uncertain terms.”
“They threatened you?”
“More or less.” A wave of tenderness swept through him at the sight of her worried expression. “Fear not, love. I can take care of myself.” His glance turned meaningful. “And my houseguests, as well.”
“If Papa and I stay here, we’ll be endangering you.”
“No you won’t.” Dustin pressed his forefinger to her lips, silencing her protest. “Guaranteed. Now, tell me what your father’s done to anger the wrong people enough to pursue him and to necessitate your taking the drastic step of masquerading as a boy.”
That distracted her, and she stiffened, sparks of anger igniting her eyes. “I’m not masquerading. Other than the difference in gender, Alden Stoddard is Nicole Aldridge. This”—she indicated her attire—“is who I am. The person you met the other night was a facade. She doesn’t really exist.”
“Doesn’t she?” Dustin drew her closer. “You’ve haunted me for two nights you know. Which leads me to another why. Why did you run away? Did you think I meant you or your father harm?”
“It wasn’t you. I would have run from anyone who approached me.” She hesitated.
“Nicole, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, I already know far more than you originally intended. You might as well tell me the rest. And, sweetheart, you can trust me.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I do trust you. I have from the start. I’m not certain why, but I do.” She inhaled sharply. “There are horrible men after Papa—and all because he’s honest and won’t succumb to their demands to forfeit races.”
“Money. Why am I not surprised?” Dustin’s jaw tightened fractionally. “Have you seen these men?”
“No, but I’ve witnessed their threats firsthand.” In a rush, she detailed what had happened after the 2,000 Guineas when she discovered the ominous message in Oberon’s stall. “Papa and I fled Newmarket then and there. The thought of losing Papa—I was terrified. I still am. Then I met you, and your kindness meant more than I can say. But when you pressed for my full name, I panicked. Given Papa’s fame, I knew you’d recognize the surname Aldridge the instant I said it. And, being that Sully had just circulated the rumor that Papa was recuperating in Scotland, I couldn’t risk your guessing that if Nick Aldridge’s daughter were still in London, Nick would be, too. So I bolted.”
“‘Sully’?” Dustin pounced on her reference.
“Gordon Sullivan. The only other person who knows Papa’s whereabouts.”
“Ah, yes, Sullivan.” A nod. “I’ve seen him race. He’s a fine jockey.”
“He’s also our closest friend. He helped us locate safe quarters, then spread the news of Nick Aldridge’s supposed injury. The rest was up to me.”
“Up to you?”
“Yes. I convinced Papa to entrust me with the responsibility of earning our wages, at least for a time. After fifteen years, I was more than able to fulfill the requirements of any job in the thoroughbred world.”
“As a boy.”
“As a boy,” Nicole confirmed. “But first, I had to find an available position. In order to do that, I had to pore over the ads of every newspaper I could get my hands on, which meant I had to venture onto the streets of London to buy those newspapers.” She grimaced. “So I dressed the only way I could to ensure concealment—in the reprehensible apparel I had on the night we met.”
“You looked lovely.” Dustin couldn’t help but grin at her shudder of revulsion—the complete antithesis of any reaction he’d ever received from a lady. “The only way you could ensure concealment …” he repeated. “Am I to conclude you don’t often don conventional attire?”
“Never, if I can help it. I only own two gowns, and those I bought just to appease Papa. Only for him would I have suffered the misery of wearing that ridiculous day dress. Not to mention that torturous corset, which nearly succeeded in suffocating me to death.”
Laughter rumbled from Dustin’s chest. “So that was the cause of your near swoon.”
“Corsets should be declared illegal,” she informed him with a lift of her chin.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He caressed her nape, keenly attuned to her tiny quivers of pleasure. “I’ll remember never to suggest that you wear one.” His voice grew husky. “We have yet to probe the question, what do I want of Nicole?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Don’t be.” He tipped her head up to his. “One kiss,” he urged, nipping at her lower lip. “The same one we began but never finished.”
“Dustin—” The bewildered expression was back on her face. “Given the circumstances, I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “But, as I told you, I believe in taking risks, especially when my instincts scream out that I should.” He drew her close.
