“Dustin, why are you doing this?” Trenton’s cobalt gaze delved into his brother. “And don’t tell me it’s to protect the turf. I know you better than that. You’re principled as hell, but you wouldn’t jeopardize your family for anything on earth. As I suggested last time, you’re shielding someone. Who?”
Silence.
“It’s Stoddard, isn’t it?” Ariana murmured, watching Dustin’s face. “You’re safeguarding your new jockey.”
A cautious nod. “Stoddard is twenty years old, Ariana, the same age as you. Nick Aldridge is all he has in the world. I feel …” Dustin searched for the right words, words that would be accurate but not revealing. “… responsible for him. I can’t explain why, but if I’m able to help him, I must.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Ariana surprised him by saying, precluding whatever furious response Trenton had been about to render. “We understand.”
“We do?” Trenton demanded incredulously.
“Yes.” Ariana’s nod was strangely insightful. “We do.”
“Thank you.” Dustin gave Ariana a grateful—albeit puzzled—look. “Let’s get back to Alexander. As I mentioned, I’ve hired an investigator. Actually, I did so right after meeting with Trent, who bluntly informed me I wasn’t skilled enough to investigate on my own. He was right. I realized that the instant I interviewed and hired Saxon. Watching him do his job is an education unto itself. The man is exceptional. So, here’s what I propose. You were planning to come to Surrey for the Derby anyway, you’ve merely arrived early. Stay on. Have your bags sent, as well. Let Saxon oversee Alexander. Believe me, no one will get past Poole’s nephew.”
“Poole’s nephew.” Ariana’s brows arched in comprehension. “So that’s why Quinn was relegated to his recent position as footman. You hired Poole’s nephew as your new driver … and investigator.”
“Precisely. In this way Saxon could accompany me to whatever racecourses I needed to visit, safeguard my well-being, and assist me at the same time.”
“Trenton?” Ariana twisted around to glance up at her husband. “Dustin’s suggestion does make sense. I’d feel much safer with Mr. Saxon keeping an eye on Alexander. He is, after all, a trained professional. Not to mention that this way we can all be together, draw strength from each other. Perhaps you and I might even help. I’m sure Dustin is eager to resolve things as quickly as possible.” Her gaze flickered briefly over Dustin before returning to Trenton. “May we stay?”
“You couldn’t drag me out of here,” Trenton retorted.
Ariana sighed with relief. “I’ll ask Poole to send for our things. Then, I want to check on Alexander.”
“And then you’re going to bed,” Trenton concluded. “Otherwise you’re going to collapse.” Tenderly, he kissed his wife. “Dustin and I will work out the remaining details.”
“I’ll even speak to Saxon before retiring,” Dustin added. “He’ll begin watching Alexander tonight. How would that be?”
Ariana crossed the room and kissed Dustin’s cheek. “You’re a fine man, Dustin.” A flicker of a smile. “The woman in your life had best know how lucky she is.” Squeezing his arm, she retraced her steps, pausing only to receive Trenton’s brief, reassuring embrace and his murmured, “I’ll make everything right, misty angel,” before hastening from the study.
The instant the door closed behind her, Trenton turned back to his brother, his former intensity restored. “This conversation is far from over.”
“I never thought otherwise,” Dustin returned dryly. “I assumed your intention was to ease Ariana’s mind enough so she’d agree to get some rest, then to continue this discussion in private.”
A terse nod. “Ariana is taking this whole situation very hard. I won’t keep things from her, but I needn’t immerse her in unnerving specifics either. The fact is that, unless she believes we’ve eliminated all cause for worry, she’ll post herself at Alexander’s bedside until dawn, and become ill in the process.”
“I feel guilty as hell.”
“Don’t feel guilty. Just tell me everything. What did you learn at Newmarket? What more do you know about those hired hands who came to Tyreham? What can I do to help? And what the hell can’t you tell us?”
“You can pour me a drink while I ask Poole to summon Saxon—after which I’ll address your first two questions. Also, you can understand, or at least accept, that what I can’t tell you must wait until tomorrow.”
“That’s an untenable request.”
“I wouldn’t make it unless I had to.”
Sucking in his breath, Trenton relented. “Very well. I’ll wait until morning.” He stalked across the room, pouring two goblets of brandy. “Early morning,” he called after his brother, who’d stepped into the hallway to speak with Poole.
“How can I be of assistance, my lord?” Poole inquired quietly.
“You can tell me if Saxon has retired for the night. I need to speak with him.”
“He headed off for bed mere minutes ago, sir. Would you like me to summon him?”
“If you would. It’s critical, or I wouldn’t disturb him at this late hour.”
“He’d expect nothing less. I’ll fetch him at once.” Poole hurried off.