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Dagger sniffed at her hand, then leaned forward warily before snatching up the treat and gobbling it down.
With calculated deliberation, Nicole remained as she was, making no sudden moves either to shift her palm to stroke him or to snatch her hand away. “The marquis is right about you,” she concluded, surveying the thoroughbred’s powerful body and long, lean limbs at close range. “You are extraordinary. Now we need only reaccustom you to trusting your rider, and victory will be ours. My instincts are never wrong, Dagger. We’re going to be incomparable together, you and I.”
The horse never blinked. But Nicole could actually sense his fear abate.
Why? she mused. She’d scarcely spent five minutes alone with him, not nearly enough time—skillful though she might be—to accomplish the arduous task of winning him over.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you, Dagger?” she confirmed aloud, taking the risk and lifting her fingers to caress his muzzle, purposely keeping her hand where he could scrutinize her every motion.
In response, Dagger whinnied softly, announcing his approval.
Nicole smiled, continuing to stroke the jagged white streak that spanned his muzzle from top to bottom; a stark contrast against his chocolate brown coat. “You were aptly named,” she told him, tracing the bold marking with her forefinger. “This does indeed resemble a dagger. But you’re not dangerous. You’re proud and devoted—if you’re treated with the respect you deserve. If only you could tell me who mishandled you. It certainly wasn’t Lord Tyreham, nor was it Brackley. The marquis is a wonderful man who believes in you, and who is as devout a horseman as I. And, as for Brackley, I know his manner is curt, but his concern for you is genuine. Yet you don’t trust either one of them, not completely. Is it their size? Was the man who hurt you tall?”
In response, the thoroughbred nuzzled the side of Nicole’s neck.
Man.
Her own word re
verberated in her mind, and comprehension erupted.
“What a fool I’m being,” she exclaimed. Glancing about, she leaned close to Dagger’s ear, lowering her voice to a breath of sound. “You know who I am—or rather, what I am, don’t you? Of course you do. I can fool people, but they haven’t your keen instincts. You know I’m a woman. That’s why you’re unafraid. Of course whoever unnerved you was a man—who else would be tending to you? Well, you need no longer fear such abuse. Lord Tyreham would only hire men as kind and compassionate as he. And he is kind. Believe me, I know.” Nicole’s nod was emphatic. “He’ll look out for you just as he’s looking out for me. As will I. Your future is secure, my friend. But, Dagger,” she whispered, “in return, you must keep my secret. We’ll let them think it’s my size that soothes you—and my skill, of course,” she added with an impish grin. “But the fact that I’m female must remain between us. Us and Lord Tyreham. Agreed?”
Nudging her pocket, Dagger hunted for another cube of sugar.
“Blackmail, h-m-m?” Nicole’s brows rose, and she offered her coconspirator what he sought. “Very well. Our bargain is sealed. Now, shall we walk the course together? I’d like to have you trotting by day’s end and cantering by tomorrow. That way, we’ll be galloping by midweek and exploring the training grounds at Epsom by week’s end. How does that sound?”
Another whinny.
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
Forty-five minutes later, Nicole and Dagger were taking Tyreham’s course at a brisk trot, the fluidity of Dagger’s gait astounding even to Nicole.
“Splendid,” she praised, patting the stallion’s neck and slowing him to a walk. “You could win this Derby even with a less experienced rider on your back. Your trot is so graceful, I can hardly wait to see your canter. However”— Nicole’s jaw set, long years of training supplanting enthusiasm—“wait I shall. Until tomorrow. We’ve done enough for today, given how long it’s been since you were ridden. It’s time to cool down and head back to the stables.”
For the first time since she’d mounted, Nicole relaxed her concentration enough to take in her surroundings. With a start of surprise, she realized she had an audience.
Dustin and Brackley stood at the end of the course, beaming from ear to ear. Brackley was shaking his head in welcome astonishment, wiping his brow and muttering under his breath.
But it was the look on Dustin’s face that made Nicole’s heart leap.
Pride, pure and abundant, transmitted itself to her, coupled with a victorious gleam of pleasure.
“Incredible,” he called, saluting as she and Dagger approached. “You’ve humbled us, Stoddard.”
“You sure as hell have.” Brackley was still shaking his head. “I’d never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
“I got lucky,” Nicole answered. “Whoever intimidated Dagger was obviously big. I’m short and slight and too young for my voice to be threateningly deep.” She tossed them a saucy grin. “True, I’m also a superb rider. And Dagger is a superb mount. The combination is unbeatable. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Dagger and I will meet you at the stables.”
“You were right, my lord,” Brackley stated as their new jockey urged Dagger off. “Stoddard is everything Aldridge claimed he’d be.”
“He certainly is.” Dustin nodded, his penetrating gaze fixed on Nicole. “Everything Aldridge claimed and more.”
Abruptly, he turned away, taking out his timepiece and glancing at it. “Brackley, show Stoddard around the stables, and introduce him to the rest of the staff. I’ve an interview with a prospective trainer in an hour and a meeting at noon.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Disregarding Brackley’s puzzled expression, Dustin headed off, never pausing until he’d reached the manor, crossed the hall in long, uncompromising strides, and locked himself in his private study.
