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Nick gripped the page, rereading the lines several times before raising his head. “Lord Tyreham is the finest breeder in England.”
    “Breeder and racer,” Nicole amended. “I know. I’ve heard his name spoken countless times at the stables.” Her brows drew together. “Evidently, he placed this ad before word of your supposed injury reached him. I wonder what prompted him to place it now, of all times.”
    “That’s no coincidence.” Nick’s scowl was grim. “Tyreham’s gone through some disappointing jockeys lately. At least he believes they were merely disappointing. I know otherwise. The fact is that at least one of them—Alberts—was taking money from the bastards who attempted to blackmail me.”
    “He threw his races?”
    “Exactly, a reality I’m sure the marquis is totally unaware of.”
    “That’s all the more reason you’d be the ideal candidate for him,” Nicole declared proudly. “You’re not only the best jockey in England but the most ethical one as well.”
    “A lot of good that does me.” Nick slapped the newspaper down. “Damn! Tyreham will have prime contenders in every race this summer—Epsom, Goodwood, the July Stakes at Newmarket. How can I miss this opportunity?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I swear I’d take my chances and resurface if I weren’t so afraid those bastards would hurt you.”
    “Let me answer the personal.”
    Nick stared. “Nickie, are you insane? What would you tell the man? That you’re Nick Aldridge?”
    “No, of course not.” Nicole interlaced her fingers, resting her chin atop her hands. “I’ll tell him the truth.”
    “The truth?”
    She grinned. “Well, a combination of the truth and the story Sully and I concocted—a story that has doubtless reached Lord Tyreham’s ears by now and has, therefore, dashed his hopes of procuring your services any time in the near future.” She paused. “Therefore, I shall ride to Surrey to interview with the marquis. I’ll tell him I apprenticed under Nick Aldridge for fifteen years, since I was scarcely more than a tot. I’ll tell him Nick and I have a very special rapport, that he taught me everything I know about horses. All of which is true.”
    “I see. And, given the close friendship you and Nick Aldridge supposedly share, I’m sure good old Nick must have told you exactly where he’s staying. Have you thought about how you’ll get out of sharing that information with the marquis?”
    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