CHAPTER THREE
Anne saw the famous – or infamous – Daniel Dereham again two days after the ball when she was riding in the park. It was just after sunrise and she and Jeremy were galloping along under the trees, something that was not allowed during the afternoon fashion parade. Anne was just about to pull up, when her horse stumbled and went lame on his right fore. She jumped off and bent down to pick up the horse’s foot. Just as she had suspected, there was a stone wedged under Oliver’s shoe.
Jeremy joined her, looking down at the hoof Anne was holding. He made a face and said, “That looks like it’s in there pretty good.”
“Do you have a hoof pick with you?” Anne asked.
“No. Do you?”
“No. The paths are so well groomed I didn’t think I’d need one.”
“Let me see if I can push it out,” Jeremy said. “Hold Sedgwick, will you, Anne?”
She took his horse’s reins and watched as Jeremy tried to move the stone. Oliver stood on three feet with his head hanging down. Anne stroked his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding reins. Neither of them heard the approach of another horse until it was almost on them. Anne’s head jerked around as a gleaming black horse pulled up next to them. A voice said, “Do you need help?”
“Do you have a hoof pick with you?” Anne asked urgently. “My horse has a stone in his shoe and we can’t get it out.”
“I have a knife.” The horseman swung down from his saddle and removed something from a pocket. As he opened the knife, Anne moved back to make way for him and Jeremy held the reins. The man knelt and lifted Oliver’s leg. “Now how did that get in there, eh boy?” he said in a gentle voice, as he fitted the knife under the stone and levered it out. He returned Oliver’s leg to the ground, the horse tested it gingerly, then put his weight on it again.
“Thank you so much,” Anne said gratefully. “When I’m home I always carry a pick, but I didn’t think I’d need one in this well-maintained park.”
“If there’s trouble to be got into, you can always count on a horse to find it,” the man replied in a voice that had a faint lilt to it.
“Too true,” Anne said, and for the first time really looked at their rescuer.
Daniel Dereham had a beautiful face, with chiseled cheekbones, a straight nose, and light blue eyes that held the crystalline quality of a spring sky. An amused expression flickered across that face, and Anne realized she was staring. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to stare.” She added, “But I suppose you’re used to it by now.”
The amused expression turned into a smile. He didn’t answer.
Anne said, “You were a life saver Mr. Dereham, and Oliver thanks you as much as we do. I’ve never had that happen in the park before.”
“There are stones everywhere in life,” Daniel Dereham returned. “I’ve found it’s well to remember that.” He turned to his own horse, threw the reins back over his neck and swung into the saddle. For the first time Anne looked at his horse and her eyes widened. “Is he an Arabian?” she asked.
“He is. Now, if you will excuse us, we’ll continue with our ride.”
Anne and Jeremy stood on the path and watched as the Arabian exploded into a full gallop. In a moment man and horse had disappeared from sight.
“That was Daniel Dereham,” Jeremy said blankly.
“So you said,” Anne replied.
“He’s ….he’s…” Jeremy ran out of words.
“He’s stunning,” Anne said.
Jeremy grinned at her. “You held your own, Anne. I couldn’t find a thing to say.”
She laughed. “We didn’t exactly have a conversation. But the man can’t be a bad person. He stopped to help Oliver, and he rides like an angel.”
“I never said he was bad,” Jeremy protested.
“You said he wasn’t one of us.”
“Well, he’s not. Actually no one seems to know very much about him, other than he made a fortune in India. Where he came from, who his parents were…. no one seems to know. He just appeared on the scene last year and immediately went to work building this cotton factory in Lancashire. He’s a mystery.”
Oliver pushed his nose against Anne’s arm and she turned to stroke his neck. “I think I’ll hand walk him home,” she said. “He probably bruised his foot and it’s best not to add any weight.”
“Nonsense,” Jeremy said. “I’ll walk him and you can ride Sedgwick.”
“I’m not dressed to ride astride,” Anne gently pointed out to her cousin.
Jeremy’s lips tightened and his cheeks flushed. Anne realized that it would embarrass him to ride while she walked, and she said, “We can both hand walk our horses.”
Her cousin’s flush subsided, he agreed and the both of them started down the path that would take them home.
# # #
A few weeks went by and Anne’s father arrived unexpectedly in London. He had been staying with friends at Newmarket, but the horses had not come in for him, and he thought it was time to take a break and check on his daughter. Lord Grex dropped off his baggage at the Clarendon Hotel, where he would have the freedom to come and go as he pleased. He planned to spend his evening at Brooks, where there was always a good game of cards, and tomorrow he would see how his daughter was faring in her quest for a husband.
Accordingly, Lord Grex called at Grosvenor Square the following morning, and was pleased when Lady Moresack’s butler told him that Lady Anne was receiving a few friends in the blue salon. “Good, good,” he said cheerfully. “Glad to hear the girl has made some friends. I’ll just pop along to say hello.” Leaving the butler behind, he strode down the corridor toward the sound of voices and stopped in the doorway to appraise the scene before him.
Three young men sat around Anne, who was looking lovely in her new blue muslin morning dress. There was another girl in the room, but Lord Grex didn’t think she held a candle to Anne.
Lady Moresack saw him first and rose to greet him. Lord Grex smiled and motioned her out into the hallway. “Who are these chaps?” he asked.
“One is Mr. Ellery, the grandson of Lord Castleton, one is Mr. Abbey, who comes from an excellent family, and one is Lord Henry Melton, third son of the Duke of Sandcross. They all seem very taken with Anne.”
“Do they have money?” Lord Grex asked bluntly.
Lady Moresack looked offended. “They all have decent incomes, Grex. I wouldn’t have encouraged them if they hadn’t.”
The earl did not look happy. He had been hoping for more than a decent income. He told this to Lady Moresack.
A flush mounted to her cheeks. “Considering that Anne has no dowry, and that her father and brother have gambled away the family fortune, I think you should be grateful to see your daughter placed with a man who is fond of her and can give her a comfortable home. She is a lovely girl and I have grown quite fond of her.”
Lord Grex knew when to retire from the field of battle and he made his way out of the house and back into the square without bothering to speak to his daughter. On the spur of the moment, he decided to check out of Clarendon’s and head back to Newmarket, where he had friends who appreciated him.
# # #
While Lord Grex was visiting in Grosvenor Square another sort of meeting was going on, not in Mayfair but in the city. Mr. James Adams of Barings Bank was meeting with one of his largest accounts. When Daniel Dereham returned from India, he had taken out two safe boxes in Mr. Adam’s bank, in which he had deposited a fortune in jewels. This was the first time he had requested a meeting with Mr. Adams, and Adams was nervous. The bank had facilitated the sale of two of Dereham’s magnificent jewels, the proceeds of which he was using to build a manufacturing facility for cotton in Lancashire.
As the young man came into his office, Adams rose to greet him. After the handshakes and the offer and refusal of tea, he asked, “What can I do for you, Mr. Dereham? How is the factory coming along?”
“It’s built,” Dereham said. “All I need to do now to finish the project is to build cottages for the workers to live in.”
This was the first Adams had heard about workers’ cottages. “Cottages?” he queried. “I did not know you planned to build cottages.”
“I want my workers living close to the factory,” Dereham said.
“Oh. Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Adams said.
“I have a few questions for you, Adams, in regard to the companies you would recommend I use for furniture and other household items. I can’t just put in rugs and a few tables, as I would in India. The English like to surround themselves with more things.
Mr. Adams gave a nervous laugh. He was forty-six, twenty years older than the man in front of him, but there was something about Daniel Dereham that was intimidating. His idea of building a single factory, and not have his employees work from their home cottages, was still somewhat revolutionary in the cotton business. And no one had thought to build housing for their workers. That was unheard of.
The two men finished their discussion within half an hour, and Dereham hadn’t been gone three minutes before Adams’ next-door neighbor, James Brines, came in the door. “What did he want?” he demanded, taking the seat just vacated by the subject of his inquiry.
“He told me the factory building is completed and now he wants to put up cottages for the workers to live in. He was asking me for the names of companies that deal in furnishings.”
“The factory is finished? That was fast.”
“He was on the premises the entire time it was going up. I don’t imagine there was much slacking off.”
“He’s a strange one.” Brines shook his head. “With all that money, you’d think he’d hire people to oversee things for him. I can’t imagine any of our other clients sitting in the wilds of Lancashire to watch a building go up.”
“He’s not the sort of man one asks about his behavior,” Adams said dryly.
Brines leaned closer. “The rumor going ‘round is that he’s the bastard son of some great lord.”
“I’ve heard that as well. All I can tell you is that he’s richer than any of the great lords we have banking with us. I’ve never seen such jewels as those he packed into the safe boxes.”
“I’d go out to India myself if I thought I could be the tiniest bit as successful as he was,” Brines said.
“Who wouldn’t?” Adams said.
Both men laughed, Brines went back to his office and Adams returned to work.