Wishes in the Wind (Kingsleys in Love 2)

“You’re talking about Redley,” Nick supplied with a scowl of disbelief. “He was a bloody fool, Sully. Besides, we have no proof those lowlifes killed him.”

“Don’t we?” Sully’s tone was ominously quiet. “You and I both ran the course at Doncaster last September. We both heard Redley boast to everyone within hearing distance that he’d thrown the St. Leger trial for himself, not for the scum who’d browbeaten him. He vowed to turn the tables, blackmail them out of thousands of pounds. Three days later, his quarters were ransacked and he was found dead.”

“Oh, my God.” Nicole went sheet white. “I thought he’d been robbed.”

“It’s possible he was.” Nick wrapped a protective arm about Nicole’s shoulders. “Stop it, Sully. You’re scaring Nickie. Besides, the point is moot. I didn’t give those hoodlums any cause for alarm. All I did was refuse to throw the race.”

“Then why are they threatening to kill you?”

“The reasons don’t matter,” Nicole intervened. “Papa’s safety does. I won’t gamble with his life, Sully. I’m taking him away. Now.”

Sully took in the all-too-familiar set of Nicole’s

jaw. “I agree, Nick must disappear, but not through your efforts, through mine.”

“No.” Nicole’s veto was instant and fierce. “That would endanger your life as well. I won’t have it.”

“Nor will I,” Nick concurred. “We’ll find another way.”

“Neither of you is thinking clearly,” Sully accused with an exasperated shake of his head. “It’s not my life that’s at stake here. Nor is it solely yours, Nick.” Scowling, he gave voice to the unpleasant truth. “These men aren’t amateurs. They know everything about you—including the existence of your revered only child. If you’re in danger, so is Nicole.”

“Damn,” Nick hissed, all the color draining from his face. “I never considered that.”

“Even if that’s the case, Sully, you won’t ensure my safety by risking your own,” Nicole interrupted, her mind racing for answers. “So please don’t get involved. This problem is mine. Mine and Papa’s.”

“Really?” Sully arched a brow. “And how do you intend to handle it? By dashing off to parts unknown like a reckless filly, Nick in tow? By running away with no strategy or means of survival?” He assessed Nicole’s mutinous expression in utter exasperation.

Raucous laughter reached their ears.

“We haven’t time for this argument now,” Sully pronounced, glancing swiftly over his shoulder to confirm that none of their fellow jockeys had drifted close enough to overhear him. Confident that, for the moment, they remained alone, he dug into his pocket and extracted a key. “Take Nick to my quarters. They’re less than a mile from yours and a whole lot safer. Undoubtedly, whoever left that message knows where you live. By tomorrow they might have figured out that you’ve taken off, and come looking for you. I’ll slip into your rooms tonight, before that happens. I’ll fetch your things and bring them to you. By morning we’ll have devised a plan to get you out of Suffolk—both of you—to transport you somewhere secluded. And I do mean secluded, not London during the heart of the racing season. Once we get you settled, you’ll stay put until those bastards find a new victim. They can’t hurt you if they can’t find you. Now go.”

“No bloody way,” Nick denounced with a hard shake of his head. “Sully, have you lost your mind? I’m a jockey. How do you suggest I ride if I’m stashed away like some hidden treasure?”

“I don’t suggest you ride. I suggest you stay alive. For your sake—and Nicole’s.” Sully wasn’t mincing words. “Now get the hell out of here before those ruffians come back to effect their threat.” He groped in his jacket, pulling out several folded bills. “Take these. It’s not much but it’s all I’ve got, and, combined with your prize money, it’ll be enough to buy you food and a place to stay.”

“Keep your wages.” Nick shoved his friend’s hand away. “You’re as noble—and as rash—as my daughter. Even if I were willing to give up racing and drop out of sight to protect Nickie, she and I need an income in order to survive. How long do you think we’d last on a few pounds?”

“Well have an income, Papa,” Nicole inserted, fists clenched at her sides. “I’ll provide it.”

Simultaneously, both men glared at her.

“What crazy idea are you thinking up this time, Elf?” Nick demanded, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“It’s not crazy. It’s perfectly reasonable. Sully just claimed that I, as well as you, are in danger. Or rather, that Nick Aldridge and his daughter are. Well, I can eliminate both the danger and our lack of money.”

“And how will you do that?”

“By ceasing to be your daughter.”

Another silence, more ponderous than the first.

“Listen to me, Papa.” Nicole gripped her father’s forearms, excitement tingeing her cheeks as her plan took shape. “Those men will be hunting for Nick and Nicole Aldridge. Well, we won’t be found. You’ll be in hiding. And I’ll no longer be Nicole Aldridge.”

“And who, may I ask, will you be?”

An unconcerned shrug. “I haven’t invented a name. At least not yet. But what I call myself doesn’t matter. What matters is what I shall be, not who. And the answer to that is any one of a dozen things. A stable hand. A trainer. An apprentice to a trainer. I could go on and on. The point is, I’m qualified to perform any of those jobs. Better, in fact, than most any man in this stable. You, more than anyone, realize that’s true. Not only did I grow up with horses, I learned from the best. Nick Aldridge. I can answer whatever equestrian ads the Gazette brandishes. Take any position at any stable, public or private.” The tiniest of pauses. “I could even be a jockey.”

Despite the refusal hovering on his tongue, Nick couldn’t help but grin. “Ah, now we get to the truth. A jockey. Your greatest wish—to race. Is this your attempt to replace me in next month’s Derby then?”