Wishes in the Wind (Kingsleys in Love 2)

Her smile faltered, then reappeared. “Lord Tyreham won’t expect me to divulge that information. He’ll understand that you need rest—and privacy—to regain your strength. I’ll divert his questions by offering him a temporary alternative to you. Me.” Nicole glowed, warming to her story as she devised it. “I’ve just thought of the perfect plan! I’ll arrive at Tyreham with a note addressed to the marquis and written in your hand. It will state that you sent me in your stead, to ride for him until you are able to travel to Surrey and take over. The note will then embellish on my versatility and my uncanny ability with horses.”

A hearty chuckle vibrated in Nick’s chest. “Now you not only look like your mother, you sound like her—the same quick mind and extraordinary imagination. Remember the stories she could invent out of thin air?”

Nicole smiled wistfully. “I remember. And she made every one of them sound plausible.” Her gaze fell on the nightstand, and the precious wishing locket that lay upon it.

A symbol of dreams, like the star she’d wished upon earlier and the heart-stopping man who’d crossed her path.

Dustin.

Where was he now? Had he gone after her, or had he just dismissed their meeting as inconsequential and returned to the glittering world from which he’d come?

Hastily, she dismissed the questions together with the impossible memory that accompanied them.

“Nickie?” Her father’s voice yanked her back to the subject at hand. “Now what are you thinking?”

She raised her chin. “I’m thinking that I might have inherited Mama’s fanciful mind, but I also inherited your mule-headedness and spunk.” She leaned forward, resuming her argument. “I can do this, Papa. I know I can. With your letter, the marquis won’t dare turn me away. Oh, he might be reluctant at first, but he’ll relent. After all, it’s only temporary, and I am a close friend of yours.” She held her breath. “Please, Papa.”

Nick wrestled with his worry.

“Besides your spunk, I also inherited your strength,” Nicole added softly. “I’m not frail like Mama was. I’m strong and I’m healthy. And, as you yourself claimed, I’m a damned good rider. An extraordinary rider, I believe you said.” She squeezed her father’s hand. “You’ve always taken care of me. Just this once, let me take care of you.”

Releasing his breath on a sigh, Nick nodded. “Very well, Elf. Dress as a boy. Go to Tyreham. You can offer the marquis nearly the same level of skill as I can. But, Nicole …” His jaw set. “I won’t allow this charade to go beyond the end of June. For both our sakes.”

“You’re thinking of the July meetings.”

“Exactly. Oh, I have no doubt you’d place in every bloody race. But you’re not traveling and sharing quarters with the other jockeys—men who, need I remind you, would believe you to be one of them?”

Nicole flushed. “I see your point. Very well then, the end of June. By that time, those greedy scoundrels will have found another victim.”

“And by which time, you’ll have driven the poor, unsuspecting marquis of Tyreham totally insane,” Nick returned with an affectionate grin.

“Probably,” she agreed. “Papa, what do you know of Lord Tyreham—other than his talent with thoroughbreds?”

Nick shrugged. “I’ve only spied him from a distance. He’s a nice-looking fellow in his ea

rly thirties, I should say. He has quite a reputation with the ladies, from what I hear.”

“Oh, splendid,” Nicole muttered. “He’s undoubtedly overbearing, arrogant, and thoroughly taken with himself.”

A grin. “Then thank your lucky stars he’ll think you’re a man.”

“My lucky stars,” Nicole repeated, unable to squelch the memory those words evoked. “Yes, Papa, I will. And perhaps, if I’m truly lucky, those stars will reply.”

Three

“PUT DOWN THE BRIDLE, Brackley. He’s not ready yet.”

Dustin leaned against the stable wall, frowning as he watched his head groom attempting to tack up Tyreham’s newest stallion.

Brackley halted, exasperation etched on his face, while Dagger snorted and stomped about his stall. “It’s been a fortnight since he arrived at Tyreham, and he still gets skittish every time I approach him.”

“I’m aware of that. He’s not much better with me.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t see how you can possibly enter him in the Derby even if the Jockey Club does grant you special permission to do so at this late date. No one can mount him, much less race him.”

“The point’s a moot one,” Dustin stated flatly. “Because unless Nick Aldridge recovers from his leg injury, I’m withdrawing my request to add Dagger as a last-minute contender. I meant to win, not merely to enter. And that requires Aldridge. As for Dagger …” Dustin’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I purchased him for a reason. Every one of my instincts proclaimed him a champion. They still do.”

“Your instincts are rarely wrong, my lord.” Brackley shook his head as he hung away the tack. “But this time … I don’t know.”