“Very well, it is.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “But as you noted earlier today, the Kingsley men are unnervingly single-minded when we want something badly enough, and I want you more than life itself. I intend to make you my wife—before you change your mind, before you conjure up new and equally nonexistent differences between us that would preclude our happiness.”
“I have no other differences to name,” she reassured him, wondering if it were possible to explode from exhilaration. “You’ve obliterated them all, just as you promised.”
“I have, haven’t I?” A self-satisfied grin. “To continue. I’ll go to your father at dawn, secure his permission and his blessing. Then, I’ll arrange for a special license to be delivered posthaste so it’s ready and waiting. In the meantime, you make whatever wedding plans you choose. Large, small, formal, informal—I’m amenable to whatever sort of ceremony and reception you want. So long as when it’s over, you’re mine.”
“I’d like a church wedding,” Nicole answered softly, laying her cheek against his robe. “And a reception right here at Tyreham, but not in the manor.”
“In the stables?” he queried huskily.
“Close. On the grounds. Where you and I walked, and rode, and created our first memories. At twilight. With all those we love present—our families, our friends, and the stars that brought us together.”
“And your wishing locket?”
“And my wishing locket.”
Smiling, Dustin wrapped his arms about her in a way that clearly stated he meant never to let go. ?
?Am I going to have to prove myself to dozens of indignant jockeys and other assorted horsemen who love you as Sullivan does?”
“No. All they’ll have to do is look at me to see how happy you’ve made me, and they’ll welcome you with open arms.”
“That’s a relief.” He rested his chin atop her cap. “Anyone else you’d like to invite?”
“Mama,” Nicole managed in a choked voice. “But she’ll already be there. As will your parents,” she added, tilting her head back to gaze up at him.
“I love you.” Dustin’s breath grazed her lips. “I’ll spend forever fulfilling your wishes.”
“I love you, too.” Nicole twined her arms about his neck. “And speaking of forever, my answer is yes.” She smiled against his mouth. “After the Derby, Stoddard plans to retire, which is just as well. Because, all of a sudden, I find myself surprisingly eager to become the marchioness of Tyreham.”
Sixteen
THE EARL OF LANSTON stepped gingerly into the stable, frowning at the muck that settled around his shoes, the stench that greeted his nostrils. It was a damned good thing he only had to come here once in a long while. More than that, he couldn’t abide.
“Where are you, Cooper?” he called.
“I’m here. Hold on a minute.” Coop stepped out of a stall, wiping his hands on the sides of his breeches, and leveling an ice blue stare at his visitor. “Well, I was wondering when you’d finally get here. The Derby’s in three days. I haven’t seen a sign of Raggert since he showed up on my doorstep over a week ago. What the hell’s going on? How do you want this handled?”
“Raggert was a bit put out by the reception you gave him. He came directly to me with his report.”
“The reception I gave him? Hell, Lanston, it was the middle of the night. What did he expect?”
“He was just doing his job, Cooper. In case you’ve forgotten, he works for me. As you do.”
Coop wiped sweat from his face, a lethal glint flashing in his eyes. “Whatever you say. So what did Raggert tell you?”
“First of all, it appears Archer and Parrish were successful. Tyreham has restricted himself to licking his wounds and preparing his contender for the Derby. He’s made no further inquiries into the situation on the turf. So, for the time being, that’s one less noose around our necks.” The earl shifted his weight, scowling as he sank deeper into the ground. “Don’t you ever clean this place?”
“It’s a stable, Lanston, not a ballroom.” Coop massaged his forearm. “So we’re rid of Tyreham—for now. What about his jockey?”
A scowl. “Unfortunately, it appears Stoddard is every bit as good as Tyreham boasts. Arrogant, but good. Raggert detests him.”
“Raggert hates anyone who’s got a better way with horses than he does.”
Lanston shrugged. “In any case, Raggert’s been studying Stoddard for weeks, hoping to detect a weakness in his technique—something we might use to our advantage—but the blasted boy seems to be a model horseman.”
“So we need him in our corner is what you’re saying.”
“Exactly. You and I both know my horse must win that Derby. Our pockets are counting on it.”