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“I’d be lying if I said otherwise. Banks is the best trainer in Surrey, perhaps in England. But I understand his decision. I’d probably make the same one, were I he. Trent, the man is nearing fifty. He’s got a wife, children, even grandchildren. He’s been training for twenty years, not to mention the ten years of riding he did prior to that. He’s tired. Training is grueling as hell. I can’t blame him for his choice.”
“Nor can I,” Trenton concurred. “Have you made arrangements for a new trainer?”
“I’ve interviewed five. Two of them are good. Damned good. I plan to meet with each once more. Then I’ll make a decision.”
“What about the ineffectual jockeys you mentioned?”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Every one of the last three, while appearing to offer great promise when hired, has turned out to be a colossal disappointment.”
“You’ll rectify that.”
“I already have. They’ve all been dismissed. Permanently. I’m finished tolerating indifference and mediocrity. My stables boast the finest thoroughbreds to date. I want an equally fine rider on their backs. In my mind, only one man fits that description—Nick Aldridge.”
“I can’t dispute that.” Trenton nodded his approval. “Aldridge is one hell of a jockey.”
“Indeed he is. With him in the saddle, my champions will take every race of the season.”
“Then I presume Aldridge has agreed to your terms?”
“He will. Once I unearth him, that is.”
“Unearth him? Didn’t he just ride at Newmarket?”
“Yes, brilliantly. He won the Two Thousand Guineas by at least ten lengths. I fully intended to resolve things then and there by offering him a retainer—and a small fortune—to ride exclusively for me. However, as luck would have it, he was surrounded by a mob of well-wishers the instant he passed the winning post, after which no one seemed able to find him. I even sent a messenger to his home that night, but to no avail.” Dustin shrugged. “He was probably out celebrating. I’m not concerned. I’ll find him. I would have pursued the matter further, had I not been leaving for Spraystone. Upon my return, I plan to place an ad in the Gazette—one that clearly states Aldridge’s name and the terms of my offer. I’m arrogant enough to believe he’s heard of me, and that, between my reputation and the sum I’m willing to pay, he’ll find me.” Dustin rubbed his palms together, a hint of the old Dustin surfacing in the challenging gleam that lit his midnight eyes.
“It sounds as if your tedium is about to come to an end.”
“Yes, at least in business matters.” The gleam vanished. “So, now that all my problems are resolved, we can ready ourselves for Ariana’s excellent meal.”
An enthusiastic squeal from the upstairs nursery negated that thought.
“You spoke too soon,” Trenton muttered with a wry grin. “Evidently, my son has recouped his strength. I’d best go up and hasten this bedtime procedure, lest we starve.”
Another squeal reached their ears, followed by Ariana’s soft, loving admonishment.
Dustin swallowed, oddly shaken by the tender exchange between mother and son. “Trent, I’ll be leaving Spraystone in the morning.”
Silently, Trenton absorbed his brother’s announcement. “That’s a rather sudden decision, isn’t it?”
“Sudden, but necessary.”
“Why? You arrived only a few days ago.”
“I know. And I’ve enjoyed every moment of my visit. But you need time alone with your wife and son. While I …” Roughly, Dustin cleared his throat. “I’ve a great deal on my mind and quite a bit to resolve. I’m restless as hell, which you and Ariana both noticed. I think it’s best that I return to Tyreham and address that restlessness—at least the part that’s within my ability to control. I’ve got to get on with my life, whatever the future may hold.”
“I understand, perhaps better than you think. Although you know you’re welcome here as long as you choose to stay.” Trenton placed his hands on Dustin’s shoulders, searching for just the right words. “Dustin, you, better than anyone, know how very little I believed in before I found Ariana. I was nothing more than a callous and embittered shell until that blessed day she stumbled into my life. And now? Now I’m whole. I believe in love, in trust, even in forever. If there’s hope for an unyielding cynic like me, there’s certainly hope for you.”
“Thanks, Trent.” Dustin didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “However, waiting is fast
becoming more than a mere inconvenience. To quote your wife, I’m intense, impatient, and perpetually in search of a challenge. A Kingsley trait, I believe she said.”
A corner of Trenton’s mouth lifted. “Ah, but the rewards are well worth the wait. Just look at how contented this Kingsley has become.”
Warmth pervaded Dustin’s gaze. “I have. And if ever I doubted the existence of miracles, your transformation has long since erased those doubts. As for the love you and Ariana share, I could wish for no more.” He arched a speculative brow. “Now if only I were sure that wishes are granted.”
Miles away, gazing out the window, Nicole was pondering much the same thing—but for entirely different reasons.
Her eyes damp, she clutched a filigreed locket in her hand, seeing naught but dread in the starlit sky above. “I’m frightened, Mama,” she whispered to the ubiquitous heavens. “So frightened. Papa’s a wonderful man, and he’s all I have. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.” Unsteadily, she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Can you hear me, Mama? I’m wishing. Just as you taught me, I’m wishing—for Papa’s sake, and for mine. If ever I needed the magic of my wishing locket, it’s now. Please …” Nicole’s voice faltered, her fist clenched tightly about the delicate piece of silver, “please let this wish come true.”
