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“And do you think he believes that?”
Again, Nicole shook her head. “No.”
“Then it’s settled.” Dustin bent, brushed her lips with his. “Speaking of your father, he’s probably about to burst in and toss me out. Besides, I’d best get back to the manor. I need to pack. I’ll be away for a day or two.”
A shadow crossed Nicole’s face. “You’re going to see Sully.” Her fingers bit into Dustin’s sleeves. “Papa told me your plans to bait those horrible men who threatened you. I needn’t tell you how dangerous that might be.” Frustration laced her tone. “I dragged you into this situation. I came to you looking for a job, and now you’re immersed in a dilemma that, by all rights, should be mine to contend with. It’s my father they want. I’m the one who should be incurring the risks.”
“And aren’t you?” Dustin reminded her quietly. “Didn’t you take the ultimate risk the day you walked into Tyreham as Alden St
oddard, determined to protect your father at all costs? There are all types of risks, Derby. Yours is greater than most. It requires restraint, selflessness, and a lot more courage than it would take to go charging recklessly out, seeking some unknown enemy who could, in turn, destroy the very man you’ve vowed to protect.” Dustin captured Nicole’s hand in his. “Never doubt the importance of what you’re doing. It’s ultimately you, not I, who is shielding your father.”
“I realize that. It’s only …” She swallowed. “Dustin, please … be careful.”
Dustin pressed her palm to his lips. “I will. You just concentrate on readying Dagger for the Derby. I’ll concentrate on freeing your father of this noose that’s hanging around his neck—and the turf of ruthless criminals who profit off frightened, greedy men. Together, you and I will set things right. Agreed?”
A faint smile. “Agreed.”
“Good.” Dustin’s gaze fell to her mouth. “Now, since we won’t be alone together for heaven knows how long, ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“You know damned well what. Ask me to kiss you.”
Nicole’s smile deepened. “I already did.”
“Do so again.”
The tip of her tongue wet her lips. “Must it always be my initiative?”
“Today, yes. After today, no bloody way. I’ve fulfilled the terms of that insane promise I gave you.”
Shyly, she leaned into him. “Very well. Please, Dustin, kiss me.”
“My pleasure, Miss Aldridge.”
He fused their mouths for a brief, shattering instant, easing away only when she’d gone weak in his arms. “As of now,” he muttered huskily, “the rules have officially altered. I suggest you alert your hopes and dreams to that fact. Tell them I intend to make each and every one of them a reality.”
Eight
“YOU’VE BEEN WHISTLING SINCE you walked in the door,” Nick noted, lowering his newspaper. “Who’s the cause of your fine mood, Dagger or his owner?”
Nicole flushed, securing the pins beneath her cap as she prepared to return to the stables. “I haven’t seen Dustin since he left the cottage yesterday, Papa. By now, he’s probably in Suffolk, meeting with Sully.”
“I know where he is. But that still doesn’t answer my question, now does it?” Nick tossed the paper aside, abandoning all pretense of reading. “You’ve avoided me since Tyreham took his leave. First, you were exhausted and needed rest—at six o’clock, mind you. You didn’t even emerge for dinner, and if you ate breakfast, I never heard you. You were gone by the time I awoke—at sunrise, by the way. You returned a half hour ago, gulped down some food, and are now preparing to bolt again.”
“Dagger and I are training for the Derby.”
“You needn’t remind me. Now, do you intend to answer me? Or are we never going to discuss the marquis?”
Uneasily, Nicole perched on the arm of her father’s chair. As always, when it came to Dustin, her thoughts were in a breathless, convoluted jumble. Oh, she’d yearned to share with her father the exhilaration resulting from those five precious minutes in the sitting room. But she’d needed time alone. Time to think, to absorb the significance of the monumental step she’d taken—a step that had transported her from meager resistance to wary acceptance—to relive the transitional moments in Dustin’s arms when she’d given up the struggle and yielded the battle.
God help her if she lost the war.
Long into the night she’d remained awake, sitting up in her bed, arms wrapped about her knees, wishing locket clutched in her hand. Innocent though she was, she understood—perhaps better than Dustin—the extent of what her concession could cost her. By lowering her emotional guard, granting him entry to her life, she was affording him the opportunity to do what Dustin Kingsley did best: charm his way into—and out of—her heart. Just as he had dozens of women in the past.
With one difference. Those women had been raised like Dustin: wealthy, sophisticated, marrying for money, straying—albeit discreetly—for pleasure. There seemed to be a tacit understanding among noblewomen that they remained chaste until their wedding day and then, once married and having presented their husbands with a requisite heir, they could seek amusement elsewhere, so long as their indiscretions remained undiscovered. And, in Dustin’s case, they were evidently willing to reverse that order, whether to lure him down the aisle or simply because the pleasure was worth more than the sacrifice, Nicole wasn’t certain. In either case, the whole prospect was unthinkable to her. The gifting of her body was integrally tied to the gifting of her heart. And her heart could be offered but once, accompanied only by the fervent prayer that it not be shattered.
How, from any perspective, could Dustin avoid shattering it? To begin with, Nicole failed to see any way for him to bridge the gap between them—a gap that, to her, appeared insurmountable, no matter how fervently he professed otherwise. Further, even if he succeeded, what precisely did he want of her? What was Dustin Kingsley’s idea of a commitment? For a provincial commoner like herself, there was but one answer: marriage. Was he prepared to offer that? Or did his notion of permanence extend no further than a long-term mistress or lover?
