Lady Prunella, her mother, and sister, Cordelia, were due that afternoon, and Thomas was hard at work overseeing the laying out of the race track. The work was coming along nicely, and they expected the course to be finished in just over six weeks to two months.

The markers of the track’s dimensions had been successfully staked, and Thomas rode his horse around the circumference to get a sense of what racing a horse there would feel like. He saw no impediments and decided to let the men carry on working, as he headed back to the house to prepare for his guests’ arrival.

George had planned to meet with Jenny’s brother later this afternoon after their work at the bakery was completed for the day, and Thomas hoped he would get a report about whether they had a jockey right after.

Thomas went to his rooms, cleaned up, and changed into clothes suitable for receiving honored guests. But by the time he had finished, they had not yet arrived, so he decided to visit his Grandmamma, who he saw was out in her garden pulling up plants that had been killed by a hard freeze.

“We have gardeners who can do that, Grandmamma. Why are you out here like a farmer?”

She laughed. “Because I enjoy it, my darling. Getting one’s hands dirty keeps one rooted in the land. We must never get so far above ourselves that we lose knowing where we came from.”

“I never came from a turnip patch, although Nanny often told me I did when I was being naughty,” Thomas teased her.

She stood and surveyed the work she had done. “I am getting there. Putting the garden to bed for the winter is both sad and joyous. Sad to see it end for the season and joyous knowing it will be reborn in the spring.”

“The Alderman’s should be arriving at any moment. Might you not want to prepare to meet them?”

“What? They might be offended if they shake hands with a scruffy old parsnip like me?” She chuckled, picked up her basket of garden tools, and went with Thomas back to the house.

Just after Grandmamma began climbing the stairs to return to her chambers, Thomas heard a coach pulling up in front of the house.

“It must be them. Come down when you are ready to meet them. We shall be in the drawing room.”

Grandmamma waved her hand in acknowledgement and disappeared.

Willoughby had already opened the door and, accompanied by several footmen to retrieve the luggage, was opening the coach door to greet the guests.

Prunella was the first to descend, followed by her mother, sister, and several ladies’ maids. Thomas noted that she was as lovely as ever, dressed in a black coat with a red scarf and a jaunty black hat. He was pleased to see her, but for some reason, she did not make his heart race the way Jenny did.

Thomas went over and greeted Lady Alderman, the elder. “Welcome to Pemberton. It is wonderful to see all of you.” He then turned to the sister. “And you must be Miss Cordelia?”

“Your Grace,” the young lady, who could not be more than thirteen or fourteen, said curtsying.

Thomas then took both of Prunella’s hands in his. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

“We did,” she answered. “But it is a long journey and that can be fatiguing.”

“Then let me offer you some refreshment. Tea? Or are you ready for something stronger? Some wine, sherry, or cognac?”

“I think tea would be just the perfect refreshment,” Mother replied.

“Then come,” he said and ushered them into the house and to the drawing room where Willoughby took their coats and hats, handing them to an attending footman.

“What a beautiful house,” Prunella said as she walked gracefully around the sitting room studying the paintings and admiring the furnishings. “You have a very fine… what appears to be a Dutch master… but I cannot make out the painter. Is it a Vermeer?” She asked turning to him and giving him a most gracious smile.

“No, it is a Willem Kalf still-life.”

“Charming. Quite charming.”

At that point, Augusta came into the room and was introduced to the guests. Once everyone was seated, Willoughby came in with the tea and began serving.

“I am longing to see the horses,” Prunella said.

“Perfect timing, because we now have our two new horses as well, so you will be able to see our entire stable. And we have just started construction on our new racetrack. Perhaps you would like to ride out with me tomorrow to see the progress.”

“Oh… is there anything to see?” she asked with some surprise.

“Well, the track is marked out and the workers are beginning to put in the railings and are working on the surface,” Thomas said.

Prunella did not seem interested and said, “How about a hunt? Might you organize a fox hunt? I so love seeing all you handsome men in your red coats riding out to vanquish the poor beast and coming back triumphant with your fox tail.”

“I am afraid Lord Comerford just held one. And it would be too soon to organize another just now. And with the new business… well, George and I are rather focused on that for the moment. We have a lot to do to get our horses ready for the spring racing season. And I am certain you would want that… as an investor.”

Augusta asked the mother, “Lady Alderman, what occupies your time in London? Are you a fan of the opera? Theatre? Music?”

“Oh, Mrs. Mowbray, I do enjoy a hand of whist or two of an afternoon. There are a number of ladies who meet regularly for tea and whist. Most delightful. Do you play?”

“Occasionally. However, I do enjoy reading and gardening. In fact…”

“Gardening? Oh, my, I thought that was for country folk. Unless they are flowers, of course.”

Grandmamma did not seem to appreciate that remark and replied, “Well, we are country folk.”

“But not peasants. I mean scrabbling around in the ground for roots and scraps—what is the fun in that?” the lady replied.

A silence fell over the group, until Cordelia asked, “Do you have dogs?”

Thomas replied. “Of course, but they are hunting hounds not house dogs.”

“Oh,” she replied, seeming to be disappointed.

Again, the conversation lagged, and just then, mercifully, George was announced.

Thomas stood, happy to see his friend. He introduced the guests and then asked, “Did you meet with Robert?”

“I did. And all went well. We have our jockey.”

“How splendid,” Prunella said. “Who has he ridden?”

Thomas explained. “He is a local lad. Just starting out. We will be training him along with the new horses.”

“Oh, is that wise? Certainly, you need someone experienced, if we plan to win any races.”

“But everyone needs to start out somewhere. And we should have plenty of time to season the lad before the first spring race,” George insisted.

“I know several excellent gentlemen who have been riding professionally for years. I would be happy to contact them for you if you wish?”

Thomas and George exchanged a glance and then Thomas said, “Thank you, Miss Prunella, but until we are able to raise the remainder of our investment, we cannot afford to take on a highly experienced jockey just now.”

“Then you have not raised all you need yet?” Prunella asked.

“Not yet. We were hoping you might have some more suggestions for us of people we might approach as possible investors.”

“You mean the names I gave you were not interested?”

“I am afraid not,” Thomas said.

Prunella and her mother looked at each other briefly. “That is a shame. Well… I have no more suggestions.”

Thomas was suddenly struck by the fact that he was discovering a different Lady Alderman than the one he had met in London. What was going on? He decided they might be tired from the journey and he suggested, “Dinner will be served at eight. Perhaps you would like to go to your rooms and rest after your journey. Willoughby will be happy to show you the way.”

“Do I have my own room?” Cordelia asked.

“You do, Miss Cordelia.”

“How splendid. Mother said I should need to share with her, but I said you were a Duke and I would have my own room in such a fine place as Pemberton.”

“And so you shall,” Thomas said with a smile.

Prunella stood and said, “Yes, I am fatigued. It would be nice to retire for a time. I assume we dress for dinner.”

“We do. But not quite as formally as in London. Please feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I want you to have a pleasant weekend.” He turned to her mother. “And if you like, Lady Alderman, I am certain we can organize a game of whist for you after dinner.”

That seemed to please her. “I should like that very much.”

The three guests filed out of the room and followed Willoughby.

Grandmamma came over to Thomas with a scowl and started to speak, but he held up his hand and said, “Say not a word. Not a single word.”

She raised her chin, turned away, and left the room.

“Is that the same Lady Alderman we met in London?” George asked.

Thomas sighed. “I have no idea.”

“What shall we do about Robert? I said we would start him as soon as possible.”

Thomas looked at George and said definitively, “We start him tomorrow, of course. We hired the lad, and we shall train him, and he shall be our jockey. I will send a message to him right away.”

George smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.”

There was only the gentlest breeze in the dark of night as the ship pulled up to the dock, and the deckhands threw their lines to the men on the dock to secure the vessel.

There was little noise as the doors of the warehouse slid open and dockworkers poured out and began to retrieve the barrels of rum that were being lowered on pallets by the sailors onboard the ship.

Time was of the essence as it would soon be light, and the authorities would be able to see the activity and would come to investigate at this supposedly unused and decommissioned warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, under minimal illumination, the barrels were stacked and labeled as flour, which was most strange as flour was usually stored in sacks.

Outside, men at either corner of the warehouse were keeping watch, and at one point as a wagon passed nearby, one of the men waved a lantern and all work ceased until the wagon had disappeared. Then the work started up again.

By the time the first faintest hint of dawn appeared, the frantic work had finished. The doors of the warehouse were closed and locked. The ship was freed from its moorings and it slipped silently away on the change of the tide.

All light was extinguished, the workers disappeared, and only one man was left to check the security of the doors, walk the perimeter of the warehouse, and then slip away to an inn several blocks down the road.