Wishes In The Wind Part 14

Nicole's startled gaze met her father's.

"Nickie." Nick's expression was sober, his voice rough as gravel. "There's another reason I'm sticking to my decision about Tyreham's visits, other than your obvious feelings and my respect for the man. A reason that didn't come to me till dawn. All night I lay awake, alternately reminding myself how decent and honest he's been, then remembering his b.l.o.o.d.y reputation and deciding to change my mind and turn him away. By sunrise, I found myself at a loss, staring off into s.p.a.ce and wis.h.i.+ng your mother were alive. That's when it came to me." Nick drew a slow, unsteady breath. "If Alicia were here, I know exactly what she'd say. She'd say I had no business coming between you and what could be the future fate has in store for you. Fate, she'd remind me, was wiser than logic and pa.s.sion combined, more profound than logic, more objective than pa.s.sion."

"I remember," Nicole replied softly. "Wishes and fate. Mama trusted in both."

A spark of memory lit Nick's eyes. "Wishes and fate. That's what she said the day I proposed to her. I knew b.l.o.o.d.y well I hadn't the right to make her mine; her being a well-bred young lady and my being a jockey with scarcely a s.h.i.+lling to my name. But Alicia never hesitated. She said we were meant to be, that she'd wished us to be. She left a respectable family to marry a man with nothing to offer but his love and his dreams."

"You realized those dreams, Papa," Nicole defended at once. "You became the most renowned jockey in England. And in the interim, it was that love that sustained us."

"I know, Elf." Nick patted her hand tenderly. "All the more reason that if Tyreham really is the right man for you, I'd be a b.l.o.o.d.y hypocrite to deny you the same chance at happiness your mother and I had. Two different people from different worlds who loved each other enough to get by. Oh, don't get me wrong-it was hard as h.e.l.l sometimes. I was used to taking care of myself, coming and going as I pleased with no one home worrying about me. Alicia was used to staying put, going to church on Sundays, and eating a family dinner at seven o'clock each night. We each gave a little, took a little, and somehow it all worked out. In your case, the adjustment would be even harder. Tyreham's a marquis, for G.o.d's sake. A marquis with a lot of money and a lot of women." Shaking his head, Nick muttered, "Half of me wants to call him out now and shoot him before it's too late. But for your sake, for your mother and the magic she brought to my life, I'll wait, let you follow your heart, and pray-should it lead to Tyreham-that he doesn't break it. Because if he does, so help me, if he hurts you in any way, he'll answer to me, t.i.tle or no t.i.tle."

"Thank you, Papa." Moved beyond words, Nicole hugged her father fiercely. "You're a wonderful man. Mama made a superb choice-the only choice."

Nick swallowed. "We were blessed, your mother and I. But as I said, it wasn't easy. It took strength and patience and grit-all of which you have and which I prayed you'd never need." He gripped Nicole's arms, held her away from him. "Are you scared, Elf?"

"Terrified."

"Good. You should be." He tugged lightly at the rim of her cap. "Be careful, Nickie. You've got my s.p.u.n.k, but your mother's heart. Guard it well-it's the only one you've got." With an awkward cough, he came to his feet. "Now go exercise that stallion of yours. Have you got him cantering yet?"

"As of this morning, yes." Taking her father's cue, Nicole jumped up, perceiving his tacit need to change the subject. "Dagger moves with such grace, it's more like sailing than riding. I plan to take a few low fences this afternoon, just to reinforce our timing and technique. If all goes well, I'll accelerate the pace tomorrow and gallop the length of the course. Brackley can time us." A triumphant grin. "Dustin will return from Suffolk, and his new trainer will arrive to find Dagger and me ready for Epsom-a full week earlier than expected."

Rather than sharing her excitement, Nick scowled, his eyes darting restlessly about the room. "I hope Tyreham will have learned enough to end this farce and get me back on the turf where I belong."

Nicole's elation faded. "Papa, I know you're fidgety ..." she began.

"Fidgety? I'm losing my b.l.o.o.d.y mind. That list I gave your marquis, together with whoever else Sully adds to it, had better yield some results."

"It will," Nicole a.s.sured him. "If there are answers, Dustin will find them."

Dustin was hoping much the same thing.

Leaning forward, he glanced out the carriage window, taking in the rolling countryside of Suffolks.h.i.+re.

He'd arrived at his destination.

For the umpteenth time, he unfolded the list Aldridge had given him, wondering where this investigation would lead. With any luck, to the truth. Then Aldridge would be free and Nicole would be his.

He grinned at his own arrogance. Oh, it wouldn't be easy. Nicole was as stubborn as she was beautiful. But eventually, if he had to move heaven and earth, he would make it happen.

Tenderly, Dustin recalled yesterday's kiss, the dazed wonder in Nicole's eyes and the all-too-transparent emotion on her face as she'd granted him the permission he sought. G.o.d, how he wanted to make that look last forever.

He had his work cut out for him. Winning Nicole over, convincing her that his motives were as decent as hers, was going to be a mammoth task, especially given her denigrating view of his reputation. Still, he'd achieved his initial victory: persuading her to accept his visits. Two victories, he amended silently. Not only had Nicole invited him back, so had her father.

Recalling the uncertainty on Aldridge's face, the warring emotions in his eyes, Dustin felt a wave of compa.s.sion. The man obviously adored his daughter. 'Twas no wonder he felt reluctant to place her in the hands of a notoriously wanton aristocrat.

Well, those misgivings would vanish soon enough.

"Here we are, sir," Dustin's driver called out, bringing the carriage to a halt.

Snapping out of his reverie, Dustin shoved the list back in his pocket and, without waiting for a.s.sistance, opened the carriage door and climbed down.

At first glance, the half-timbered cottage looked to be deserted. Dustin scowled. Aldridge had said nothing about Sullivan traveling elsewhere after Newmarket. a.s.sumedly, he was home. That being the case, Dustin had dispatched a rather cryptic message late last night, advising Sullivan of the pressing need for them to meet early this morning. It should have been enough. After all, though the man wasn't aware of Dustin's role in all this, he did know Aldridge was living at Tyreham. Therefore, he had to have guessed that the subject of the meeting pertained to his friend.

So where the h.e.l.l was he?

Dustin raised his fist and knocked.

The door, of its own accord, swung open.

A warning bell sounded in Dustin's head, and he stepped inside. "Sullivan?"

No answer.

Puzzled, he glanced about the narrow hallway, plagued by the nagging feeling that something was amiss. Other than the partially opened door, there was no evidence to support his suspicion. The furnis.h.i.+ngs, so far as he could see, were intact, showing no evidence of an intruder. Still ...

"Sullivan!" he called again.

Was it his imagination, or had he heard a rustle from farther within?

He hesitated, knowing he was trespa.s.sing, weighing his options.

A low moan reached his ears.

Tossing caution to the wind, Dustin stalked the sound, which led him into what appeared to be the cottage's sole bedchamber.

"Sulliv-" He broke off, seeing the crumpled form lying in the center of the room. "Dammit." He reached the man's side in an instant. Kneeling, he eased him gently to his back to a.s.sess the extent of the jockey's injuries.

They were bad.

Blood covered much of his face and head, his clothing torn, his eyes swollen shut. The only sign of a struggle was the lamp overturned alongside the bed and the pile of bedcovers Sullivan had apparently been clutching when he went down. Evidently, he'd been either surprised or overpowered. The latter, at the very least, Dustin guessed. If the a.s.sailants were the same burly hoodlums who'd visited Tyreham, Sullivan's slight jockey's build would be no match for their strength.

"Sullivan, can you hear me? It's Tyreham."

With the greatest of efforts, one eye slitted open. "Tyre ... ham."

"You're badly hurt. Lie still. I'll do what I can."

Rising, Dustin searched the cottage until he found the kitchen. Once there, he promptly located a pitcher, filling it with cold water and carrying it back to Sullivan's chambers. Next, he unearthed a pile of clean handkerchiefs, several of which he soaked in the water, the remainder of which he set aside to serve as bandages.

Sullivan groaned at the first contact of the cold cloth against his skin, but he didn't-or couldn't-fight Dustin's efforts. With a black scowl, Dustin confirmed that whoever had done this had been thorough as h.e.l.l, inflicting injuries that were severe, but not fatal. It didn't surprise him. His guess was that the a.s.sailants wanted Sullivan alive enough-and frightened enough-to tell them Aldridge's whereabouts. Or, in the event he refused to cooperate, to alert Aldridge to the attack the instant he was able, thus leading them straight to Tyreham. Even if Sullivan were smart enough to do neither, the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds would undoubtedly make sure Aldridge got word of the beating, knowing that loyalty would compel him to rush to his friend's side. At which point, they would descend upon him like a pack of wolves.

Dustin finished bandaging Sullivan's major wounds, then slipped a pillow beneath his head and covered him with a blanket. In truth, the jockey was light enough for one man to lift. But Dustin didn't dare hoist him onto the bed, for fear of worsening the injuries. Especially if there were broken bones or internal bleeding.

"Tyreham," Sullivan muttered again.

"I'm here."

One arm reached up weakly, plucked at Dustin's sleeve. "Don't ... tell anyone."

Dustin nodded, understanding far more than Sullivan realized. "I know Aldridge is living at Tyreham," he said quietly. "Along with my new jockey. I've told no one. I intend to tell no one. I'm guessing that whoever did this to you suspects you know Aldridge's whereabouts and tried to convince you to share the location with them. Am I right?"

Despite his badly swollen features, there was no mistaking the surprise on Sullivan's face. "How ... did ..."

"It's a long story. We'll discuss it later. For now, let me summon a physician. I'll pay him enough to ensure his silence. But those wounds need to be professionally treated."

A long hesitation.

"Sullivan, Aldridge will have my hide if I don't take proper care of you."

Dustin's comment elicited a pained glimmer of amus.e.m.e.nt. "You're ... right. Go ahead."

Squelching his myriad questions, Dustin rode into the village, returning in an hour with a man he'd discreetly learned was a skilled and trustworthy physician. He waited patiently while the man did his job, then had the Tyreham driver escort him home-after slipping a hundred-pound note in his palm and eliciting his promise never to discuss this incident with anyone.

Retracing his steps, Dustin found Sullivan propped up in bed, looking much improved, his breathing and color restored to normal.

"How are you feeling?"

Sullivan angled his head in Dustin's direction. "Better. What did you tell the physician?"

"Only that you owed a bit of money to some unsavory characters who extracted their pound of flesh." Dustin shrugged. "He understood how embarra.s.sing it would be for you if the turf learned of the incident. That and the money I gave him was enough to ensure his silence. Don't worry, Sullivan. No one will hear of this episode."

"Thank you, my lord," Sullivan said, shoulders sagging with relief.

"No thanks are necessary." Dustin pulled up a chair. "However, a conversation is. Are you up for talking?"

A wary look crossed Sully's face-one that had nothing to do with discomfort and everything to do with loyalty.

"I'll begin by telling you what I know," Dustin offered. "That way, you won't feel you're endangering the Aldridges by having this chat." Noting the stunned lift of Sully's brows, Dustin grinned. "Yes, I know I'm housing both Aldridges. And, to be frank, your friend is less difficult to manage than his daughter."

A pained chuckle. "I expected as much."

"They wanted me to a.s.sure you they're both well, safely ensconced in a cottage at Tyreham, where Nick stays at all times."

"I'm sure he's thrilled with that arrangement," Sully inserted dryly.

"You're right, he's not. But he realizes he hasn't a choice. As for Nicole ..." Dustin's grin widened. "She's playing her role to perfection. In everyone's mind but mine she's Alden Stoddard, a jockey who's so d.a.m.ned good, he'll be riding my stallion in the Derby. And believe me, that's no easy feat. Like Nicole, Dagger is a handful."

A faint, proud smile touched Sully's lips. "The Derby-Nickie's wished for that since she was barely more than knee-high, from the first time she watched Nick race."

"So I've heard. Well, she's going to get her wish. And more," Dustin added with an equal measure of pride. "Not only is she going to run that b.l.o.o.d.y race, she's going to win it." Intently, he returned to the issue at hand. "Sullivan, I'm privy to the reasons for Aldridge's concealment and Nicole's masquerade. And I have a strange feeling *those reasons' were the ones who beat you within an inch of your life. Am I right?"

Slowly, Sully nodded.

"Did you tell them what they wanted to know?"

"Of course not. I didn't tell them a blasted thing."

"Then they're probably expecting you to dash off to alert Aldridge."

"Right. With them at my heels. I already thought of that. That's why I'm not moving a muscle." Sully s.h.i.+fted, wincing as pain lanced through him. "Literally," he muttered.

"Do you want a drink?" Dustin suggested. "It will help ease the pain."

"Yeah, but not yet. I need a clear head for this talk."

Dustin nodded, admiring Sullivan's loyalty. "You're a good friend. The Aldridges are lucky to have you."

"It works both ways. Nick would do the same for me. So would the elf."

"I don't doubt it." Dustin leaned forward, gripping his knees. "Can you describe the men who did this to you?"

Sully's brows drew together. "One was heavyset and short."

"Blue eyes?" Dustin questioned. "Very pale blue?"

"Yeah. The other was taller, kind of leaner. He had those black, piercing sort of eyes."

"Dark hair? Dirty? Did the first one have a ruddy complexion, like he'd been drinking?"

A resigned nod. "I take it you've seen them."

"Oh, I've seen them, all right. They came to my home. They threatened me and my family if I hired Nick Aldridge."

"Dear G.o.d." Sully leaned weakly back against his pillow. "Does Nick know this?"

"Yes. His description of the sc.u.m who tried to blackmail him at Newmarket matches ours. Same men. Same method." Dustin rose and began to pace. "How long ago were they here?"

"I was only half awake when they broke in. The sun was just up. I'd say it was six A.M., maybe a little past. What time is it now?"

A glance at the clock on the mantel. "A quarter past ten. What else do you remember?"

"Not much. Other than demanding to know where Nick is, they didn't talk. Except with their fists." A pause. "Wait. When they were leaving, one of them called the other *Archer.' I couldn't see which was which. My eyes were too badly swollen."

"Archer," Dustin repeated. "Good." Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the list Nick had penned. "Sullivan, I know you feel like h.e.l.l, but I need your help. Aldridge gave me this list of jockeys who have been throwing races for money. He thought you might be able to add to it. If I read you the names, would you be able to concentrate well enough to do that?"

Sully blinked through slitted eyes. "Nick really trusts you, doesn't he?"

"I hope so."

"What do you aim to do with this list?"

"Visit every d.a.m.ned person on it until I find someone who's able to shed light on this scheme and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who's orchestrating it. You and I both know that these jockeys, like the two ruffians who a.s.saulted you, are just hired hands. I want their employer. Because whoever he is, he's not only tarnis.h.i.+ng the reputation of the turf, he's endangering people's lives. People like Aldridge." Dustin met Sully's gaze. "And Redley."

That reference made Sully start. "Nick mentioned Redley?" A dubious pause. "What did he tell you?"

"Only that Redley was killed because he was stupid enough to try blackmailing his blackmailers."

"That's all any of us knows."