Phineas Hargrove welcomed Thomas and George into his office at the London bank.

“Your Grace, Mr. Edgerton, please make yourselves comfortable. And what can I do for you today?”

“Thank you for seeing us,” Thomas opened.

“Is this about your investment portfolio? Did you ever get that matter settled?”

“Not about that. However, I am working to rebuild the damage that was done. But it will take time.”

“Then what exactly can I do for you?”

Thomas and George laid out their plans for the horses, with an emphasis on how productive they thought their plan would be, and the fact that they already had one investor.

Thomas then said, “As you can see, we have put a lot of work into this project, and we already have two horses, with two more we hope to acquire shortly. We are looking to enter as many races as possible at the start of the racing season next March. We have an excellent trainer, and George is very knowledgeable about both horses and the world of racing. We have every expectation of being successful.”

“I see,” Mr. Hargrove said, without a great deal of enthusiasm.

“We were hoping the bank could loan us this amount.” And Thomas gave him a paper with a list of several numbers. “The first amount is the additional funds we need to raise, and the other figures are… amounts we could accept but would require additional funding from other sources.”

George spoke up, “Is this something the bank would be prepared to loan?”

“One moment,” Mr. Hargrove said standing and taking all the papers with him. “Let me confer with one of my colleagues. I shall be back shortly.” He started to leave but stopped. “Might I offer you gentlemen some refreshment in the meantime?”

“We are fine, thank you,” Thomas responded.

Mr. Hargrove left the office.

“What do you think?” George asked. “He seems less than enthusiastic.”

“Hmm. Banks are much more cautious. The world of racing holds less of an allure for them than for an adventurous investor. I think we are going to have to look elsewhere.”

Shortly, Hargrove returned with a less than promising expression.

“I am sorry, Gentlemen, but this is far too risky a project for our bank. We are going to need to pass on this.”

“I am, of course, disappointed,” Thomas said. “And after our loyal business these many years, I expected a more positive response.” He was not going to let this go without letting the banker know he was dissatisfied.

Mr. Hargrove raised a finger, “However, personally, I am a great aficionado of the sport of kings.” He turned to see if any of his colleagues might be within hearing and said quietly, “I would be interested in investing—a modest amount—if the return is adequate, of course.”

Thomas appeared to be thoughtful before replying, “We might consider such an arrangement. As you can see, we have a twenty percent commitment already. What percentage were you thinking?”

Hargrove stroked his chin. I might be able to do thirty percent under the right conditions.”

“And what would those conditions be, Mr. Hargrove?”

“I was thinking… if one of the new horses were to be named after my wife… well. We might have a deal.”

“And your wife’s name?”

“Florabell.”

Thomas winced inwardly, but said, “A lovely name. I feel certain we could accommodate your wish,” he said and cast a quick glance at George who nodded. “But it would need to be a filly.”

Mr. Hargrove smiled broadly. “Excellent.” He tamped the papers and handed them back to Thomas. “Have you drawn up investor papers yet?”

“We have but will have a copy made with your name and your share and will get it to you before we leave London.”

Mr. Hargrove added, “And I have the names of two other gentlemen you might approach who might be interested in investing.” He wrote on a paper and handed it to Thomas. “Just say I sent you. I know they will receive you.”

“You will not be disappointed,” George said.

“Your Grace… Mr. Edgerton,” Hargrove said with a nod.

Thomas was ushered into the Alderman’s drawing room by the butler. Another couple was seated by the fire. They stood when he approached them.

“Thomas Haddington, the Duke of Pemberton,” he said in greeting.

“Lord and Lady Gregory,” the man said, “I am Harold and my wife, Henrietta.”

“A pleasure,” Thomas said, taking an offered sherry from the butler.

“Lady Prunella will be with you shortly,” the butler said.

The Gregorys sat back down and Thomas took a tour of the room. Excellent collection of books, he noticed. Fine paintings—must be Prunella’s influence, he thought.

Thomas was alone this evening, as George was visiting with Helena and her mother, who had arrived in London that afternoon.

Presently another foursome was ushered into the room and introductions made.

“Ah, you have all arrived. How splendid,” Prunella said, as she swept into the room, looking radiantly handsome. “I hope you have introduced yourselves.”

Once again, Thomas was taken by Prunella’s beauty. She wore a light green dress that was stylish but simple and which emphasized her natural beauty and grace.

“I am so sorry, but Mother will not be dining with us this evening. She had a prior engagement, so it shall just be us. Shall we go to dinner?”

Thomas was seated to Lady Alderman’s right, and the other guests were all young friends of Prunella’s—a lighthearted and sometimes boisterous group.

Thomas was surprised he had not met Prunella before now. He had been to London so many times during his days of dalliance, but perhaps it was because this young lady was more composed and less frivolous than most of the lady companions he had known previously. In any case, he was enjoying her company and looked forward to getting to know her better. And that included getting to know what she could bring to a marriage.

After supper was over, Prunella suggested a game of cards, and two of the couples took up the offer, but the Gregorys said they must leave, as they had young children at home. That left Thomas and Prunella alone to chat by the fire.

“Your Grace…” Prunella started.

“Please call me Thomas,” he insisted.

“Thomas, then… tell me more about your new venture with the horses. It sounds most intriguing. And I believe you said you were coming to London to secure financing?”

“Indeed. That is so. In fact, my partner and I met just this morning with our banker who has become one of our investors.”

“How splendid.”

“But no need to bore you with details…”

“No, I am sincerely interested,” she said, fanning herself leisurely. “I have a little investment money to play around with. My father was very savvy when it came to money, and despite being a woman, he taught me a great deal, and it is why I have been able to maintain the family’s fine standing.” Most interesting, Thomas thought to himself. “My mother takes no interest in these matters and leaves the running of the estate up to me.” She laughed. “Most unladylike I am certain, but with no men in the family, except a distant uncle, it all falls on me.”

“No, I find that most courageous of you—and commendable.”

“Perhaps you might stop by tomorrow, at your convenience, and you could explain to me the details of your offer and I might see if it is something that would be suitable for my portfolio.”

“I would be delighted to. Would eleven o’clock be a good time? And I should like to bring my partner, Mr. George Edgerton if that is suitable.”

“Of course. I would be delighted to meet him.”

“And if you have time, I should very much like to see the art you have been collecting. While not a connoisseur myself, I am always willing to learn.”

“Then why not stay for luncheon—the two of you, of course. And then you can also meet my mother. I know she will be charmed to meet you—as I have been,” she said modestly, but conveying her certain interest. “Lovely chatting with you, but you must excuse me. I must not neglect my other guests.”

And she stood and glided over to the card table, leaving Thomas to contemplate this most interesting development.

Wilcox climbed the stairs in the dingy tenement building to meet with Ezra Stanton, having secured all the paperwork necessary to enable his plan to aid the smuggler.

He knocked and Ezra, himself, answered the door.

“Come,” he said gruffly, and Wilcox followed. They went to the table and sat—Wilcox laying out the paper before Stanton.

“There, the information you requested. And now I propose we move forward with this transaction.”

“Wait a minute… just a minute. Ain’t doin’ nothin’ till I take a look at what’s you brought me.”

“Very well,” Wilcox grumbled, and he stood and paced the room as Ezra examined the documents.

When he was finished, Ezra looked up and nodding, said, “Hmm. Looks to be in order. Now, we can talk business.”

Wilcox went back to the table and sat. “First shipment then,” he said. “We have a warehouse that is secluded, off a back channel and ready for your occupation. And I have arranged for the ship to dock at night. Your goods can be unloaded by dawn and will be available for retrieval at your discretion.”

“And the date?” Ezra asked.

“It can only be approximate—the vagaries of shipping being what they are. But I shall notify you by messenger when the exact day is known. But it should be around this date.” He wrote on one of the papers he had given Ezra. “And the deposit we agreed upon?”

“Half. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

Ezra slid a pouch of gold sovereigns across the table to Wilcox. He picked it up and weighed it with his hand.

“They are all there, mate. I may be a scoundrel, but I pay me debts. It is what keeps me in business.”

“I never doubted,” Wilcox said. “And I shall make the final arrangements and keep you posted, my good man.” He paused and asked, “And my cut?”

“When I get the goods and pay the other half.”

“I say, Thomas, Lady Alderman is every bit as charming as you say,” George said to Thomas after Prunella stepped out of her study for a moment during their presentation to her.

“And the very last person I expected would be interested in investing with us,” Thomas added.

Shortly she returned. “Gentlemen, I had a quick word with my mother and she is in agreement with me. We would like to take a twenty percent share if we may? She is rather fond of Ascot week and hopes that one of our horses gets entered at some point.”

“And wins,” Thomas said with a laugh.

“Of course. That goes without saying.” She went to her desk and sat. “To whom shall I make the cheque?”

Thomas said, “First let us get the shareholder agreement to you. Then, once it is signed, we will accept your cheque. It is best to go by the book—so to speak.”

“As you wish.”

George nudged Thomas and indicated they should accept the cheque now if she was willing to give it, but Thomas shook his head.

“Now, as our business is concluded, might I give you a tour of the gallery? You expressed an interest in seeing my collection,” she said as she stood up from her desk and came around to join them. “Lunch should be served shortly but I believe I can give you a quick tour. Then, if you wish to see more after lunch, I would be happy to accommodate.”

“I think I shall pass,” George said. “I am much more interested in horses than paintings. But please go enjoy yourselves. I need to organize our papers for our next appointment, in any case.”

“Then shall we?” Thomas said, offering his arm to Prunella.

She smiled, took his arm, and they left her study and walked to the library that was used more for her art works than for books. The library faced the front of the house with many windows, so the room was well lit. Prunella let go of Thomas’s arm and stood back to let him wander the room by himself.

“Ask any questions you wish, but each painting is labeled, and you should have no difficulty identifying the work and the artist,” she said.

Thomas was much impressed by the quality, variety, and scope of the many fine works. Finally, after a few moments he stopped before one—a particularly fine portrait of a woman.

“Ah, I see you have an excellent eye,” she said, “That is one of my favorites as well.”

“Is it of you?” Thomas asked, a little puzzled by the dress the lady was wearing.

Prunella laughed. “No, that is my grandmother. But quite a striking resemblance, would you not say?”

“Astonishing,” he said turning first to her and then back to the portrait to admire the likeness.

“She was a Duchess. The Duchess of Devon. Married my grandfather who was in parliament, so they moved to London. The family has been here ever since, although we also hold a country house in Somerset.”

Thomas leaned in to see who painted the portrait. “Most impressive.”

Prunella came over and took Thomas’s arm again. “And over here we have a quite delightful Gainsborough. My grandfather actually knew the painter, and this was painted at his request.”

Just then, the door opened and Lady Alderman, the elder, entered.

“Here you are. I have been informed luncheon is ready to be served,” the very distinguished, trim, and attractive lady said.

“Mother, this is His Grace, the Duke of Pemberton. And we are soon to be a part of his racing organization.”

“Oh yes, Your Grace,” she bowed her head slightly. “You are most welcome to our home. And Prunella just told me about your business. Most interesting. When will your first race be?”

“Uncertain at this juncture. But certainly, by the start of the new racing season. We are currently training two horses and hope to add two more to our stable in the next couple of weeks. And you are both welcome to come to Pemberton at any time to see how your investment is being used.”

“Charming. I should like that,” Mother said.

“As should I,” Prunella said, taking Thomas’s arm again. “Shall we go to lunch?”