CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Anne’s heartbeat accelerated. “If you want to tell me.”
He touched his lips to her hair and began to speak. “When I was a boy I used to ride horses for our local squire. He had a few thoroughbreds that he raced, and I would exercise them when they were at home. When I got older I began to ride them in actual races. I loved it. The horses weren’t top o’ the line, but they were willing, and we often placed in the top three.
“The closest racetrack wasn’t one of the big, famous ones, but it had one historic race that attracted top trainers and breeders every year. Squire Masterson rarely raced his horses that day – they weren’t in the same class as the horses that came in for the Esham Cup. Even though I had no ride, I always went to the track with a few friends to watch. This one time – the year that everything happened – everything seemed as usual. We stood around the rail and watched, while all the fine folk watched from their carriages. We were all waiting for the big race, which would be run last. Then, in the race directly before the Cup, one of the riders took a nasty fall and broke his arm. Obviously, he could no longer ride, and he was scheduled as second call on a horse that was running in the Cup. The owner and trainer, faced with their injured jockey, started looking around for someone else to ride.
“All of the regular jockeys were already engaged to ride, and it was looking as if the horse would have to be pulled. Someone must have suggested me because Mr. Fogarty, one of the important trainers, came to find me and asked me to ride his horse. The horse was Malabas, Annie. The favorite! I don’t know if I was excited or scared – probably a bit of both – but of course I said yes.
“Mr. Fogarty grabbed my arm and began to steer me toward where the horses were waiting to be saddled. “Come and meet the Earl of Preston, Malabas’ owner,” he said. “If he’s all right with you, then you’ll ride. And I hope to God you’re as good as all these locals swear you are.
“We wove our way through the crowd and finally fetched up beside a gorgeous bay thoroughbred. He had to be seventeen hands high, Annie! Then a man stepped forward and said, “So this is the local wonder who is good enough to ride my horse.”
“‘So they say, my lord,’ Mr. Fogarty answered. ‘I suggest we put him up and see how he handles the horse before we make a decision.’
The earl came over to me. He was tall and thin and he grabbed my chin and turned my face up to his, saying, ‘Do you think you can do this boy?’ I looked up at him.”
Daniel’s arm tightened around her, as if he wanted to make sure she was still there. He continued in a voice that trembled slightly, “Annie, it was almost like looking into a mirror. He had the exact same eyes as mine! They were the exact same blue and had that same peculiar frosted look. I’ve never seen them on anyone else. Yet there they were, looking down at me, the same color, the same black eyelashes, the same curve of eyebrow.”
Anne saw where this was leading and her heart began to thump.
Daniel continued, “He went white as chalk, Annie. Then he shoved me – he shoved me so hard I almost fell! – and he said to Fogarty, ‘Get this brat out of my sight! I never want to see him again!’”
A shudder went through him as he repeated those words, and the arm that held her to him tightened even more.
“Dear God,” she breathed. “Dear God in heaven.”
They lay together in silence. Daniel’s arm was like a vise around her, but Anne hardly noticed. She said at last, “Is he your real father, Daniel?”
“He has to be. If he weren’t, why would he have reacted so violently when he saw me? He recognized me, and he wanted nothing to do with me.”
Anne tried to think of a word bad enough to describe the Earl of Preston and came up with one. “The bastard!” she said. “The miserable bastard!”
Daniel replied, a tremor in his voice, “You’ve got it wrong, Annie. I’m the one who is a bastard.”
“Oh Daniel! I’m sorry! I…”
“Don’t worry.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
They lay still, Anne thinking hard. She asked, “Do you know where this earl lived?”
“Everyone in the village knew where the Earl of Preston lived. He lived at Preston Abbey, which is about twenty miles from our village. He has a famous stud there – he raises racehorses. Needless to say, he never comes near our village, which is probably why my mother thought she’d be safe.”
His voice was different as he said the words my mother.
“Yes,” Anne agreed softly.
He said flatly, “She had an affair with the earl, and when she discovered she was with child, he threw her out.”
Anne disagreed. “That is not how Mr. Dereham described it to me. He said your mother told him that one of the earl’s guests raped her after a drunken party at the Abbey.”
At those words Daniel pulled his arm out from beneath her and jumped out of bed. Naked, lean, graceful as a cat, he stalked between the door and the window radiating a combination of violence and energy.
Anne sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. “Daniel? What are you thinking?”
He stopped for a moment to look at her. “It was the earl who raped her. It was no drunken guest, it was the earl.”
“Yes,” Anne said softly. “So it seems.”
“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill the son of a bitch for what he did to my mother.” His voice vibrated with fury.
Fear stirred in Anne’s stomach. “Daniel,” she said, her voice as calm and composed as she could make it. “Perhaps you ought to talk to your mother before you do anything.”
At first, she didn’t think he’d heard her, but then he stopped pacing and spun to face her. “Talk to my mother?” he echoed, as if she had spoken in a foreign language.
“Yes.” A ray of moonlight was coming through the open window and Daniel had stopped in its light. It illuminated his dark head and sculptured body, but his eyes were shadowed. Anne wanted to go to him, to take him in her arms and comfort him, but she understood she couldn’t do that. He didn’t want that from her now. Her part was to be level headed and reasonable.
She said, “Your mother had a good reason for keeping your father’s name quiet. Clearly he had no intention of acknowledging you, and if he knew you were living so close he might have tried to harm you. She did her best for you, Daniel, and her best was very good. She married a fine man, who knew she was with child and who loved her enough to marry her anyway. And he loved you enough to be your father from the day you were born.”
“Christ!” Daniel said in a shaking voice. “I can’t see her now, Annie! What would I say to her? What could I say? It’s been too many years.…” He stopped, drew a deep breath, and repeated in a shaking voice, “I can’t!”
Anne slid out of bed and went over to him. “It can rest for a while, my love. You’ll know when the time is right. You’ll fix it when you’re ready to.”
He looked down at her, this dark demi-god of a man she had married, and put his hand on her neck under her unbound hair. “Annie,” he whispered and slid an arm around her. She shivered, then, leaning her body against his, she turned into him, reaching her arms around his waist.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he whispered.
And she whispered back, “Yes.”
# # #
Anne slept later than usual and when she awoke the following morning she was the only one in the bed. She looked at the deep crease left from where Daniel had slept, and smiled. Then she dressed and went downstairs to breakfast. The silver covers were on the buffet and Jeremy came in to see if there was anything else she wanted.
“Mr. Dereham has breakfasted already, I gather.”
“Yes, my lady. He was up quite early. He asked for the mail from yesterday, as he hadn’t seen it. After he read it he asked me to pack a bag for him as he had to go to London for a while.”
Anne was flummoxed, and must have looked it, as Jeremy said hurriedly, “He left a letter for you, my lady. It’s on the table at your usual place.”
Anne looked at her usual place and there it was, a white envelope. “I see. Thank you, Jeremy. I’ll just have tea this morning.”
“Yes, my lady.”
He poured tea from the silver urn on the buffet and put in before her. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?”
“No, thank you, Jeremy. You may go.”
As soon as the door closed behind Jeremy, Anne opened the envelope and unfolded the crisp paper that was inside. She read:
Dear Anne,
I am sorry to go away in such a hurry but I received a letter from my bank and there are several matters that need my immediate attention. You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to wake you. I’m not certain how long it will take to straighten out this matter, but I will apprise you of my return as soon as I am able.
Your husband,
Daniel Dereham
Anne was stunned. After what had happened between them last night, that he should just turn his back on her and go off to London! Without even saying goodbye!
A swell of righteous anger surged through Anne as she tore the letter into four pieces. Damn him. Damn him damn him damn him. If he thinks he can get away with treating me like that, he has a surprise coming his way. From now on he can sleep in his bloody dressing room!
Then Anne, who had just thought more swear words than she had ever used in her entire life, swept up to her bedroom and cried.