There’s nothing here, Mama, she’d murmured, her eyes brimming with tears.
You’re wrong, love.
I’m not wrong. It’s empty.
Only because you’re looking with your eyes, not your heart. If your heart were to peer inside, it would see that this is no ordinary locket. It’s a wishing locket. Inside is a bottomless cache made especially for wishes, with enough room for every dream you’ve ever dreamed, still more for all those wishes yet to be wished.
Really? Nicole had looked more closely. How does it work?
First, you must think of what it is you’re wishing for—and focus on it very, very hard. Then close your eyes and squeeze the locket tight between your hands. And, lo and behold, your wish will be captured by the locket’s magic and stored inside.
Until when?
Until the locket deems it time to set that wish free, and make it come true.
When will that be?
Ah, Nickie, only the locket knows the answer to that. When it decides to grant a particular wish, it will cast it from its depths, transforming that wish to reality. But you must trust in the locket’s wisdom and never stop believing in its magic.
But what if it takes years and years and years for a wish to come true?
Then that wish’s time has yet to be.
What if, in the meantime, the locket gets too crowded and runs out of room for new wishes? How will I know?
That’s part of the locket’s wonder. It never runs out of room. It can hold as many cherished dreams as can your heart.
You’re sure?
I’m sure, my darling.
Savoring the memory, Nicole gazed down at her legacy, two tears trickling down her cheeks and dropping onto the locket’s shimmering surface.
“I hope you’re right, Mama,” she whispered aloud, wiping the silver dry. “I hope my locket truly does hold infinite wishes because I have another to entrust to its magical depths.” Her fingers closed around the necklace, clasping it tightly, her eyes squeezed shut. “I’ve already prayed for Papa’s safety. Now I must pray for Dustin’s, as well. Because if anything were to happen to him …” She choked back more tears. “I couldn’t bear it. So please, wishing locket, take care of him. Take care of them both.”
At half after three, Dustin’s last thread of patience snapped.
Abandoning his drink, his study, and his pacing, he strode out of the manor and headed in the direction of the Aldridges’ cottage. Waiting was pointless. He’d done nothing but think of Nicole since morning, anticipating this mere visit with more fervor than he had all his former and most ardent liaisons combined.
Single-minded though he might be, however, he was still acutely aware that this tea signified far more than a social chat—not only to him but, for altogether different reasons, to Nick Aldridge. Nicole’s father had made it clear that this was to be a trial visit, one that would determine whether or not he would sanction Dustin’s courtship of Nicole. Further, Dustin realized that while he and Aldridge had gotten on famously this morning, Nicole’s father still viewed him as one of “them”: a nobleman and a libertine. Accordingly, while Dustin had made enough headway for Aldridge to permit today’s call, nothing more permanent than that had been secured.
In short, grudging allowance was a long way from open-armed welcome.
It was up to Dustin to convert the former to the latter.
Tread lightly, he cautioned himself, as he reached the front door. You want Aldridge’s sanction, not his censure. Go slowly, very slowly. For your sake—and Nicole’s.
Taking a determined breath, he knocked. “It’s Tyreham,” he announced after a moment’s pause.
“So I gathered.” With a terse nod, Nick admitted him, his demeanor friendly, yes, but aloof, assessing—a wary father protecting his child. “Come in.”
“I’m early—again. Is that inconvenient?”
“No. This time I expected it, so I was prepared. Have a seat.” Nick gestured toward the sitting room. “Nickie should be down in a minute. She was a bit disheveled from her hectic morning.”
Dustin paused in the sitting room doorway. “Did something happen after I left the course?” he asked, concern knitting his brows. “When I last saw Nicole, she was cooling Dagger down, looking utterly exhilarated.”
“She was. She still is.” Nick relaxed a bit, affection lacing his tone. “But riding Dagger was only the beginning. She then went on to tour your stables end to end, meet every one of your thoroughbreds, and bombard your staff with questions. She didn’t return to the cottage until well after two.”