“Bloody right,” Raggert agreed, frowning. “Archer and Parrish had better be damned convincing. Because if they aren’t—if they don’t manage to scare Tyreham into staying out of things—this whole scheme could explode in our faces.”
“You made your point.” Coop jerked open the door, nearly shoving Raggert out. “Now get back to Tyreham before someone notices you’re missing. I’ll get dressed and find Archer and Parrish. By tomorrow, Tyreham will either cease to be a problem or cease to be.”
Dawn had yet to begin making its entrance when Dustin left his chambers the next morning. Time was short, and he intended to make full use of it. If he didn’t get to Nicole and her father by half after five, Nicole would leave for the stables and Trenton would begin pacing the floors, demanding answers that were his right to have.
Arising early had been more of a relief than an effort, given that Dustin hadn’t closed an eye all night. Between his worry for Alexander and his preoccupation with Nicole’s physical and emotional state, slumber had evaded him entirely.
Both issues would be confronted today; the latter tonight, the former in a matter of minutes.
Making his way downstairs, Dustin paused only to gulp down two cups of fortifying coffee before leaving the manor. Saxon had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to allow his employer this unexplained and unsupervised morning excursion. Dustin fully understood the investigator’s concern: sufficient time had passed since Dustin had stirred up a hornet’s nest with his inquiries at Newmarket. He was now a walking target. Nevertheless, he meant to walk to the tenants’ section alone. His reasons were twofold: one, he refused to permit Saxon to leave Alexander’s side; and two, he was determined to keep the Aldridges’ whereabouts a secret, to fulfill the vow he’d made when he’d hired Nicole.
Until—and
unless
—they modified that vow.
He didn’t dare consider what he’d do if they refused. He could never betray Nicole.
He could never look Trent in the eye if he didn’t.
Troubled, he crossed the grounds, making his way to the Aldridges’ cottage before the first rays of sun appeared.
A customary silence greeted his knock.
“It’s Tyreham,” he announced, once a short interval had elapsed.
The door opened, and Nicole gazed up at him, her expression apprehensive beneath her concealing cap. “My lord? Is something wrong?”
“Forgive me for coming by so early, but, yes, I must speak with you and your father at once.”
“Of course.” She paled but admitted him without further question.
Dustin shut the door in his wake, clasping Nicole’s narrow shoulders and fighting the nearly unbearable urge to envelop her against him to ease his aching conflict.
“Dustin?”
She looked so frightened and so vulnerable. Memories washed over him, and he searched her breeches-clad form for signs of lingering discomfort. “Are you feeling better?”
With a flicker of embarrassment, she nodded. “Yes. Much better. The bath and rest worked wonders.”
“I almost came by last night,” he told her huskily. “Three times, in fact. I wanted to see for myself that you were all right, but I resisted the urge to do so. You needed rest, not company. However, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking of you. I was. All night.”
A soft smile. “Worrying about me, you mean.” She reached up, lay her palm against his jaw. “Thank you. But I’m fine. Truly. And we will talk. I promise.”
He turned his lips into her palm. “I’ve turned your life upside down, haven’t I? And God help me, I’m about to do so again. Have you any idea how frustrating that is, given the fact that all I want to do is make you happy?”
Trepidation flashed in her eyes. “What’s happened?”
“They sent a note. To Trenton. A direct threat to Alexander’s life if I don’t stop delving.”
She needed no explanation for who
they
were. “Oh, my God.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “I’ll get Papa.”
“You don’t need to. I’m here.” Nick Aldridge descended the stairs, belting his robe. “I heard you mention a note. To whom? Saying what?”
“To my brother. Threatening my nephew’s life if I don’t stop asking questions.”
“Dammit.” Nick’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “When did this happen?”
“Late last night. Ariana and Trenton arrived at Tyreham close to midnight. They brought Alexander with them. Needless to say, they’re terrified.”
“Of course they are.” Compassion swept Nicole’s features. “He’s their child. What can we do to help?”
A surge of love erupted inside Dustin at Nicole’s use of the word “we.” For the first time, she was integrating her life with his …
and
when he needed her most. “Thank you,” he said humbly. Clearing his throat, he added, “Fortunately, Alexander is in good hands. I haven’t mentioned this to either of you, but several days ago I hired an investigator. He accompanied me on my trip to Newmarket. As of now, he’s standing guard over Alexander.”
Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you mention this?” She answered her own question. “You didn’t want us to know how much danger you’ve put yourself in.
We’ve
put you in,” she amended.
“Nickie’s right, Tyreham,” Aldridge concurred. “And I let you talk me into it. But you’re a grown man. An innocent babe is another thing entirely. I won’t be the cause of your nephew’s life being jeopardized.”
“You aren’t,” Dustin interrupted. “The bastards orchestrating this scheme are. The only way to ensure Alexander’s well-being—
and
yours—is to expose them. Nick, I appreciate your compassion. In fact, I’m counting on it. But I didn’t come here to upset you, I came to elicit your trust.”
“My trust?” Nick cocked an ironic brow. “I think I’ve more than demonstrated my trust in you, Tyreham, not only professionally but personally.” A subtle glance in Nicole’s direction.
“Yes, you have.” Dustin felt a pang of guilt as he contemplated what Nick’s reaction would be to the knowledge that he’d taken Nicole’s innocence.
Staunchly, he deferred that issue for later.
“The duke must have had a million questions,” Nicole murmured.
“He did.” Dustin met her gaze. “And I explained a great deal, including the fact that Stoddard was Aldridge’s protégé and had come in his stead when Aldridge went into hiding. But I couldn’t tell Trent all he needed to know—where Nick Aldridge was hiding, why I was so personally involved …” A pause. “Who I was protecting. And why. Those questions, I couldn’t answer without betraying your confidence, which I will not do.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Nicole stated softly.
“Yes, Derby. That’s why I’m here.” He drew a harsh breath. “Nicole, as you yourself just said, Alexander is Trent and Ariana’s son. Do I truly have the right to deprive them of all the facts surrounding the telegram they received? The answer is no. Yet that’s what I’m doing—unless you allow me to do otherwise. It comes down to the trust I just alluded to. If you trust me, you’ll believe in my instincts—that both my brother and Ariana will guard your secret with the same integrity as I. You have my word. I’ll say about them what you’ve said about Sullivan. I’d place my life in their hands.” With that, Dustin offered the decision to Nicole and her father. “What shall I do?”
Nicole’s reply came in a heartbeat, which was all it took to elicit her father’s nod. “Tell them.”
Waves of relief radiating through him, Dustin caught Nicole’s fingers, brought them to his lips. “You have my thanks.” He glanced over at Nick. “Both of you. Mine and my family’s. Now I can ensure everyone’s safety
and
get to the heart of the matter at the same time.”
Nicole’s whole body tensed. “I don’t want you hurt,” she said fiercely.
“Stop worrying, Derby.” Now he was able to grin. “Besides, you’ve got more important things to worry about. Like fulfilling that claim you made yesterday.”
“What claim?” Nick demanded.
“I’m racing alongside Nicole today at Epsom,” Dustin informed him. “To add some healthy competition and a few obstacles to her run. She’s boasted that she’ll beat me by at least five lengths.”
“Arrogant chit,” Nick chuckled.
“Arrogant, perhaps.” Nicole’s eyes sparkled. “But right.” She rolled up her sleeves. “Give me a quarter hour to drink my coffee and eat a bite of breakfast. I’ll be at the stables by six. Ready to best you on the Derby course.” Sobering, she added, “Tell your family that I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do …”
“You already have.” Dustin squeezed her hands then, reluctantly, released them. “A quarter hour, Derby. I’ll be waiting.”
But he wasn’t.
Nicole paced about the stables for ten minutes. Then she started worrying.
“Calm down, Stoddard.” Brackley shot her an exasperated look as he tacked up Blanket, their newly purchased mare, in preparation for her morning exercise. “The marquis is a busy man. He knows where we are. He’ll be here.”
“He said he’d be at the stables at six.”
“Maybe he’s giving us time to ready Dagger and Winning Streak. Or maybe he overslept. When the hell did you become so skittish? It’s only ten minutes past the hour.”
Pressing her lips together, Nicole fell silent. She couldn’t very well say she knew Dustin was awake because he’d been at her cottage less than thirty minutes ago, now could she?
Something was wrong.
She knew it. She felt it. It wasn’t the amount of time that had elapsed, for Brackley was right; ten minutes was negligible. It was intuition.
The same intuition that told her Dustin needed her.
“You’re right, Brackley,” she forced herself to say calmly. She stroked Blanket’s velvet muzzle, soothing her as she stomped about the stall. “Clearly, both Blanket and I are full of nervous energy. Why don’t I take her out and exercise her? It would ease your head lad’s morning schedule and divert my attention to something useful. I’ve already tacked up Dagger and Winning Streak. That leaves me nothing pressing to do before we depart for Epsom. So this would benefit us all. I won’t venture far. You can send for me when Lord Tyreham shows up.”
“Sure. Good idea.” Brackley grinned. “Only don’t use up
too
much of that energy. You want to beat Lord Tyreham and Winning Streak.”
Feigning a smile, Nicole gathered up Blanket’s reins. “I won’t.”
She led the mare from the stables, abandoning all pretense the moment the door closed behind them. Gazing across the grounds, Nicole considered riding directly to the manor, then dismissed the idea. If something had happened at the house, something that would have altered the training schedule, she and Brackley would have been advised.
Mounting Blanket, she followed the impulse that commanded she head back toward her cottage, this time not across the open grounds but by way of the woods.
She was halfway there when she heard the struggle.
“Happy, Tyreham? You’re not tough enough to take us both,” a deep voice growled.
“Come on, Parrish,” another voice—this one taut with pain—inserted. “My side is killin’ me. And your head is bleedin’ bad. Let’s go.”
“In a minute.” A sickening thud, followed by a groan. “That one was for my head.” Another punch. “That one’s for Archer’s guts.” A final blow, more vicious than the others. “And that last one’s to remind you to stay the hell out of things that don’t concern you. Cut out the late-night talks with your brother, because the next time it won’t be your blood, it’ll be your life. Yours and your nephew’s.”
Nicole felt bile rise to her throat. Swiftly, she dismounted, tying Blanket to a tree, intentionally rustling the branches and making as much noise as possible.
Her ruse worked.
“Someone’s comin’,” she heard the lowlife named Archer mutter. “Let’s get outta here.”
Swift movements, followed by a grunt of pain. “I can’t run. I think he broke my ribs.”
“Then limp.”
An answering oath, followed by slow, unsteady footsteps that grew fainter, more distant.
The instant she sensed it was safe, Nicole dashed forward.
She saw Dustin’s huddled form twenty feet away.
“Dustin.” Dropping to her knees beside him, she eased him onto his back. With quaking hands, she smoothed hair off his bruised forehead, her insides twisting with fear.
He blinked, trying to focus. “Derby?” Reflexively, his head turned in her direction, and he groaned.
“Don’t move.” Nicole stabbed in her pocket until she found a handkerchief.
“I heard … hoofbeats. Did you ride here?”
She could scarcely think, much less answer. “Yes.” Her voice trembled as she dabbed the handkerchief to Dustin’s bloodied jaw. “Blanket is tied to a nearby tree.”
“Derby … listen to me.” Dustin gripped her wrist, halting her ministrations and shuddering at the resulting pain he caused himself. “This might be … our only chance to stop them. They’re hurt, and they’re on foot …until the main road. Ride to the manor. Tell Poole … to get Saxon. To follow them. Race, Derby. As if this were the course at Epsom.”
“I can’t leave you like this.”
“Go, dammit!”
The urgency of his tone convinced her. Jumping to her feet, Nicole rushed back to Blanket. An instant later, rider and horse tore off through the woods, not slowing until they’d reached the manor.
Dismounting, Nicole dashed up the steps and pounded on the door.
“Stoddard.” Poole greeted her with a disapproving frown. “You needn’t hammer. What can I do for you?”
“Get Saxon,” she said, remembering the name Dustin had said. “Now, Poole. Lord Tyreham’s been hurt. Hurry, please.”
Poole went sheet white. Without another word, he stalked to the foot of the stairway and did the unthinkable: “Thorne!” he shouted.
Seconds later, a tall, formidably built man shot down the steps.
“You’re Saxon?” Nicole demanded.
“I am.”
“Two men just attacked Lord Tyreham. He sent me to get you. He wants you to follow—”
“Where was this?” Saxon interrupted. “Show me the direction. I’ll find them.”
“In the woods just east of the tenants’ section.” She pointed. “They’re hurt and moving slowly. They were fleeing by foot to the main road. Take my horse.”
Saxon was down the steps and mounting before she’d finished, blasting across the grounds like a storm wind.