Wishes in the Wind (39 page)

“Supposedly,” Coop repeated. “I take it you want him there for another reason.”

“I certainly do. Tomorrow is the final day of Stoddard’s test trials. The Epsom meeting begins on the twenty-fifth, which will preclude further practices. Thus, tomorrow is also the day for Archer and Parrish to pose their business arrangement to Stoddard. And I want Raggert to overhear the outcome of that chat.”

“What if the outcome isn’t to our liking?”

“Should that happen—and I don’t believe it will—I’ve made provisions to ensure the race anyway.”

“Yeah? How?”

“That’s my concern, not yours.”

Coop’s mouth thinned into a menacing line. “Getting paid is my concern.”

“You’ll get paid, Cooper,” Lanston assured him. “We’ll all get our long-awaited money.” Pensively, he smoothed his neck cloth. “Now, to continue: I intend to be in the stands at Epsom tomorrow morning to keep Tyreham occupied. Instruct Archer and Parrish that they’re to waylay Stoddard during that time. Tell them to make the offer attractive and the alternative terrifying. My guess is, the lad will be an easy target. He might love his work, but he’s poor, he’s naive, and he’s alone. With the right incentive
and
the appropriate threat, he should give us no trouble.”

“That’s what you said about Aldridge.”

Lanston bristled. “Aldridge was an entirely different matter. He’s an established jockey, perhaps the finest one on the turf. He was seasoned, financially secure, and disgustingly ethical. Tact was what was needed to sway him, something you and your lowlifes lack. I should have handled that one myself.”

“Really?” Coop bit out. “How? By marching into the paddock and announcing you’re running this whole scheme? By telling everyone you’d have been bankrupt if you hadn’t recouped your losses from this illegal operation? Now
that
would have given you high marks at the Jockey Club.”

“Shut up, Cooper.” Beads of perspiration dotted Lanston’s brow. “I may be a thief, but at least
I’m
not a killer.”

“No?” Coop inquired in a low, taunting voice. “Funny, I thought that was what you meant to do to Aldridge when you got your hands on him.”

“Damn you.” The earl took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. “If you hadn’t murdered Redley, I’d never have to—”

“If I hadn’t murdered Redley, he’d have blackmailed us out of every pound we earned or turned us over to the magistrate,” Coop snarled. “So shut your bloody aristocratic mouth. I did what had to be done
and
took care of the whole thing without dirtying your noble hands. The entire procedure will repeat itself when we find Aldridge—this time
with
your blessing. So let’s stop playing games, Lanston. Just do what you do best—issue the orders, let me carry them out, then pay me.”

“If the process is that simple, why haven’t your men found even a clue as to Aldridge’s whereabouts?”

“Because you wanted the cheap way out. Because, as you well know, Archer and Parrish are brainless fools, useful only for browbeating terrified jockeys. Let me handle the job alone. I cost a lot more, but I’ll get it done—fast.”

Lanston wet his lips. “How much and how long?”

“Twice what you’re paying them, plus the cut I usually get for being the middleman. Give me a week once we’re done at Epsom. Not only will I find Aldridge, I’ll eliminate him.” A scathing laugh. “And you’ll never have to hear the details or feel guilty when you go to church.”

“All right. Do it.” Lanston dragged a shaking arm across his brow. “But I can’t stop wondering—what if Aldridge didn’t hear us talking at Newmarket? What if he has no idea you killed Redley? What if we’re murdering the man for nothing?”

Coop spat at the ground. “We’ve been over this a dozen times, Lanston. I don’t know if Aldridge heard us or not, but he sure as hell
saw
us. And that’s enough to make him one big walking risk.”

“If he knew something, wouldn’t he have gone to the authorities by now?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on how scared he is. It’s a hell of a lot easier to disappear than to die.”

“But he didn’t disappear, at least not immediately.”

“He was probably hoping we hadn’t noticed him that day at Newmarket. Even when Archer and Parrish started pressuring him into throwing races, he most likely prayed he was only another jockey on our list, instead of a potential obstacle whose loyalties we were testing. But once Parrish painted that death threat on the stall, he knew we were after him. He panicked and bolted.”

“If only he’d agreed to throw those damned races, then we’d be certain he wasn’t a threat to our discovery.”

“But that didn’t happen. Aldridge refused to cooperate. And we don’t know if it was just his damned ethics standing in the way, or something more, something he meant to hold over our heads—like murder.” Coop spat again. “Take my advice, Lanston. Shed your conscience. Newgate’s an ugly place. I’ve been there. I know.”

“Hell,” Lanston muttered, rubbing his throbbing temples. “One damned meeting.
One.
In all these months. I was so careful about where and when. Ten full days before the onset of the first spring meeting. At bloody dawn. No one was about. We were at the far end of the stables in a deserted stall. Why the hell did Aldridge have to pick that time to check out his mount?”

“He’s the finest jockey on the turf, remember?” Coop mocked. “And soon he’ll be the deadest.”

“Enough!” Lanston exploded. “I’ve agreed to let you take care of him. I’ve offered you an exorbitant sum to do it quickly. But that doesn’t mean I have to listen to the details.”

An evil sneer. “Suit yourself.”

“I intend to. In the interim, we’ve got the Derby to focus on and to win. Contact Archer and Parrish. Get them to Epsom tomorrow by seven A.M.”

“They’ll be there.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.” Lanston turned on his heel and strode away.

Blaker flattened himself against the stable wall, waiting only until the earl had climbed into his phaeton and urged his horses off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

Then he slipped off to report to Saxon.

“Do you know, my lord, you’re surprisingly good for an amateur—an amateur horseman, that is.” Nicole’s eyes danced as she handed Dustin a cup of tea, then lowered herself to the settee beside him. “This morning, I only beat you by five lengths, and that included the two times you managed to edge me away from the railing and the three times you cut me off. That was a fine improvement from yesterday, when I beat you by seven lengths, and you had to work considerably harder to impede my concentration and my speed. Of course, I’m sure you would have progressed far beyond that point had your wounds not precluded your beginning our challenging sessions until five days ago, rather than the originally scheduled eight.”

A corner of Dustin’s mouth lifted, and he set down his cup, tugging Nicole into the circle of his arms, her back curved into his side. “Your father’s right. You’re an arrogant chit. Beautiful, and one hell of a rider, but arrogant.” He nuzzled her hair.

“Thank you, sir.” She snuggled closer, cherishing these few isolated moments alone as much as he did. “Coming from a man whose very smile causes women to swoon, I consider your praise of my physical attributes to be the highest of compliments.”

Laughter rumbled from Dustin’s chest. “‘Whose very smile causes women to swoon?’ You’ve been talking to Ariana.”

“Ariana has been pointing out the changes she sees in you. In the process, she filled me in on your varied and colorful past, yes.”

“That’s my
past
,” Dustin emphasized softly. “You, Derby, are my present and my future. I
have
changed—permanently. Wait and see. I’m going to be the most devoted, faithful husband in all of England—possibly in all the world. In fact,” he murmured, brushing aside her hair to kiss her nape, “based upon my sordid past, I feel it’s only fair that, once wed, I demonstrate my devotion to you— repeatedly—until you’re fully convinced.” His lips sought the pulse point at her neck, punctuating each word with a breath of a kiss. “I’ll use all the countless and diverse techniques I know to win you over.” A heated pause. “Every last one.”

A shiver rippled through her. “A most prudent idea, my lord. I look forward to this thorough and prolonged demonstration of your devotion.”

Dustin made a harsh sound, and his embrace tightened, all humor having vanished. “God, Nicole, have you any idea how long it’s been since we’ve been alone?”

His hoarse question found its mark, Nicole’s clamoring body screaming that it had been a lifetime since he’d held her, filled her. “Not counting these precious minutes Papa allows us? Eleven days.”

“An eternity,” he confirmed, nibbling at her ear. “Derby, if I’m not inside you soon, I’m going to explode.”

She moaned softly. “Dustin, please. Papa and Sully are right in the kitchen. If they hear you, they’ll shred the marriage license you so painstakingly acquired and call you out.”

“They won’t hear me,” Dustin murmured, unperturbed. “Sullivan arrived a mere two hours ago. He and your father haven’t seen each other in a fortnight. They’re catching up on news, paying not a whit of attention to us.” His hand slid up to cup her breast through the barrier of her shirt. “Just let me touch you.”

With a whimper of pleasure, Nicole shifted closer, biting her lip as Dustin’s thumb teased her hardening nipple.

“I love how you respond to me,” he muttered, continuing his exquisite torture until tiny bursts of pleasure began to tug at Nicole’s loins, converging in a damp pool between her thighs. Dustin groaned, somehow sensing—and sharing—every inner ripple as her body prepared to receive him. “I can almost feel you wrapped around me.”

“Dustin.” Nicole’s head fell back against his shoulder. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Touch you until you melt? Or tell you how perfect it feels when I’m inside you, buried in your softness? So hot. So tight. So wet.”

Nicole’s breath exhaled in a rush. “Don’t say things like that. I can’t bear it.”

“Wait until our wedding night, my love. I’ll say things that will make you blush—everywhere.” Turning her into his arms, Dustin raised her chin to meet his burning midnight gaze. “Don’t make plans to see a soul for the first month of our marriage,” he commanded fiercely, “because I intend to make love to you for at least that long, and that will only appease our initial urgency. After that, we’ll begin exploring every exquisite nuance in existence and invent a few of our own.”

“I think I’ll die waiting,” Nicole confessed heatedly, twining her arms about his neck.

“So will I.” Dustin’s mouth seized hers in a poignant, hungry caress.

Their kiss was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door.

Breaking apart, they stared at each other.

Another knock, equally as purposeful:

“It might be Trent. Or Saxon,” Dustin said, coming to his feet.

Nicole scrambled up, snatching her jockey’s cap and following Dustin through the hall. From the corner of her eye, she spied her father and Sully, poised in the kitchen doorway.

Dustin reached the entranceway … and waited.

“It’s Saxon,” the voice on the other side declared. “I must see you, my lord.”

Easing open the door, Dustin ensured that it was indeed Saxon, then admitted him. “What’s wrong? Is it Alexander?”

“No, my lord. Everyone is well.” Saxon shut the door, moved farther into the cottage. “Miss Aldridge,” he greeted Nicole. His gaze shifted to Nick, then narrowed as it found Sully.

“Saxon … Sullivan.” Dustin provided the introductions.

“Ah.” Saxon visibly relaxed, nodding at the familiar name.

“Saxon’s the investigator Lord Tyreham hired,” Nick explained to his friend.

“Does that mean you’ve found something?” Sully demanded.

Glancing at Dustin, Saxon waited for permission to continue.

“Speak freely, Saxon. What have you learned?”

“Thank you, sir.” Saxon extracted some notes from his inside coat pocket, his brows drawing as he scanned them. “Blaker just provided me with a report that contains precise and incriminating information. It seems that Coop—whose full name is Farley Cooper and who, incidentally, has a lengthy prison record—received a visitor today. A most prominent visitor. And while Blaker could only hear snatches of their conversation from his position outside the stable, he heard enough to know they were discussing the blackmail scheme on the turf. He distinctly heard Aldridge’s name mentioned several times, as well as those of Archer and Parrish. His impression was that plans of some kind were being made, although he wasn’t sure precisely what they were.” An uneasy pause. “One thing he was sure of. These plans—whatever they might be—involve Stoddard.”

“Dammit.” Dustin’s jaw tightened. “Who?” he demanded. “Who was Coop’s visitor?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Saxon replied simply. “It was the earl of Lanston.”

All the color drained from Dustin’s face. “Lanston?” he repeated. “You’re sure?”

“I’m afraid so, my lord. Not only that but, upon leaving the stables, Blaker stopped to make a few inquiries before filing his report. It seems that Lord Lanston owes a great deal of money—a
great
deal of money—to colleagues, business establishments, even employees. In short, he’s very nearly bankrupt. So the motive to blackmail these jockeys is indeed there.”

“Lanston,” Nick muttered, a light dawning in his eyes. “Tyreham, that’s who I saw that Coop person with. It was at Newmarket, maybe a month ago—no, more—it was before the first spring meeting even began. I went to the stables before dawn to check on Oberon. He’d been a bit out of sorts the last day or two. I heard quiet talking in the empty stall next to his. Naturally, I was curious who was using an empty stall for a predawn chat. So I glanced in. It was Lord Lanston and that man with the scarred arm. Obviously, they were talking about something private, because they broke off the minute they saw me. I took the hint and reversed my tracks. At the time, I remember thinking it was kind of odd for the earl to be taking up with such a lowlife, but then, who am I to figure out the nobility? I dismissed it, never gave the matter a second thought. Until now.”

“They were discussing their blackmailing scheme—doubtless in full detail,” Dustin surmised. “Why else would they take so drastic a step as to threaten your life simply because you might have overheard their conversation? Lord … I can’t believe I’m talking about Lanston.” Dustin averted his head, shaking it bewilderedly from side to side. “He and I have been friends for years.” A hollow laugh. “At least I thought so. What a fine judge of character I turned out to be.”