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“She’ll be safe,” Dustin added quietly.
“Safe,” Nick muttered. “From danger? Or from you?”
Dustin’s lips twitched. “From both.”
Again Nick searched his daughter’s face, obviously affected by whatever he saw there. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “All right. But only for an hour. No more.”
“Agreed. And I thank you.” Dustin glanced at Nicole. “Nine o’clock?”
Nicole blinked up at him, looking as if she didn’t believe what had just occurred. “Nine o’clock,” she repeated dazedly.
“Excellent. I’ll collect you then.” He turned to go, pausing to tug the brim of Nicole’s cap. “And, Derby?” he murmured, for her ears alone. “Leave this home—along with Stoddard.” A lazy grin. “You won’t need either of them.”
Nine
A SURGE OF RENEWED energy accompanied Dustin back to the manor, every fiber of his being pulsing with the knowledge that tonight was going to fulfill another of Nicole’s dreams.
A dream that, like her longing to run in the Derby, couldn’t be bought in a store nor offered in a velvet-lined box.
But, oh, how cherished it would be.
Smiling, Dustin began planning the evening.
He was interrupted by the sound of Poole’s anxious summons. “My lord.” Standing in the drive, the butler sagged with relief when he spied Dustin. He whipped out a handkerchief and mopped his face, his gaze darting from Dustin to the entranceway door and back. “Quinn said you were at the stables. I’ve just returned from searching them, inch by inch. You were nowhere to be found.”
“I was meeting with Stoddard. What on earth is wrong?”
“It’s the duke, sir. He’s been at Tyreham all day, awaiting your return. He arrived a scant quarter hour after your carriage departed. He’s in quite a state about that missive we sent him.”
“Yes, he certainly is.” Trenton Kingsley stormed out of the manor, glaring angrily at his brother. “I thought I heard your voice. Where the hell have you been? And what’s this about Alexander being in danger?”
“Hello, Trent,” Dustin greeted him. “What took you so long? I expected you at Tyreham days ago.” With a sympathetic glance at his butler, Dustin murmured, “Thank you, Poole. I’ll take over from here.” He climbed the stairs, laying a comforting hand on Trenton’s shoulder, seeing beyond his brother’s rage to the hollow fear beneath. “Stop bellowing. You’re terrifying Poole—which you’ve probably been doing for hours. Let’s go to my study. We’ll have a drink and I’ll fill you in.”
With a terse nod, Trenton stalked through the house and into the study, waiting only until Dustin had joined him before shutting the door and leaning back against it. “Talk to me. Who’s threatened Alexander? And why?”
Dustin filled two goblets with brandy, offering one to his brother. “Two men visited Tyreham a few days after I left Spraystone. They insisted—with their fists—that I not engage the services of Nick Aldridge who, if you recall, I was dead set on hiring.”
“They barged in and threatened you?” A muscle worked furiously in Trenton’s jaw. “That makes no sense. Whatever their reason for wanting Aldridge off the turf, it’s immaterial now. He’s in no condition to ride—for you or anyone. According to the newspapers, he’s injured and recuperating in Scotland.” Trenton broke off, suspicion narrowing his eyes. “Unless, of course, the newspaper reports are inaccurate.”
“Evidently, my two visitors came to that same conclusion. To ensure my cooperation, they suggested that should I want Alexander to remain healthy, I avoid Aldridge at all costs. Their warning was unmistakable. As was my response—unmistakable and unfriendly.” Dustin’s mouth set in harsh lines. “I don’t think they’ll come near Alexander. The missive I sent you was simply a precaution.” A swallow of brandy. “That’s all I can tell you.”
One black brow rose. “All you can tell me,” Trenton repeated. “An interesting choice of words. Why do I think you’re omitting a great deal?”
“If I am, that omission has nothing to do with my nephew. Further, you can rest assured I’m in the process of terminating those lowlifes’ careers. Permanently.”
An assessing pause. “You know more about Nick Aldridge’s disappearance than you told them, don’t you?”
“According to the papers, he’s recovering nicely.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“But that was my answer.”
Trenton sucked in his breath. “You’re up to your neck in something serious. Let me help you.”
“I can’t. Not this time.” Dustin rolled the goblet between his palms. “I’d be violating a confidence.”
“A confidence? Who the hell worth a damn would ask you to endanger yourself and your family? And to what end? You’re not a bloody investigator.”
