CHAPTER EIGHT
Anne wanted to wear an ordinary morning dress for her wedding, but Lady Moresack insisted on buying her a proper wedding gown. Nor did she accept Anne’s plan to be married in the house with only her close family present.
“You must be married in the village church,” Lady Moresack declared. “The townspeople and surrounding gentry will expect it. You don’t want to give rise to any gossip about why you are marrying Mr. Dereham, Anne. You know how country people are. They will think the whole thing is havey-cavey and will speculate about you having to get married. That is definitely not the picture you want to present to the neighborhood. It will also be a good opportunity for people to see your bridegroom. One thing I will say for him, he makes a splendid appearance.”
Anne talked the matter over with Miss Bonteen, who agreed with the countess. “You must be open about this marriage, dearest. You must look happy. You do not want to find yourself fodder for the gossips! They have enough to talk about already. Mr. Dereham is not the sort of man they would be expecting you to marry.”
Anne was sensible enough to realize that when the two ladies who truly had her welfare in mind told her the same thing, she would be wise to listen. She gave in and went shopping with Lady Moresack. They chose a slender, high-waisted gown of white and silver, and added a long silk veil. The veil attached to the center of her hair, and fell down her back almost to the hem of her gown. It was very pretty and it made Anne begin to feel a little bit like a real bride.
Anne and Miss Bonteen left for Yorkshire the day after the dress had been fitted. Aunt Julia would deliver it when she came to Grex for the wedding.
For Anne the trip home seemed to last forever. She longed with all her heart to see Grex again, and when Lord Moresack’s coach finally turned into the lane, and the rambling old brick building and its surrounding stone-enclosed paddocks, rose before her, she began to cry.
Miss Bonteen patted her shoulder. “There, there, dearest. It will be all right,” she murmured.
“It’s just … I’m so happy to be home!” Anne said, applying a delicate handkerchief to her wet cheeks. She sniffed and said, “Just think, Bonny, if Martin Abbey had proposed to me, I would never have come here again. I would have lived in a strange place – and with parents-in-law who didn’t approve of me.” She turned her head away from the window to look at Miss Bonteen. “Perhaps, instead of dreading this marriage I should be thinking, Thank God for Mr. Dereham.”
Miss Bonteen patted her hand. “It could have been worse, my love. It certainly could have been worse.”
# # #
The three weeks that followed Anne’s arrival at Grex went by in a whirl. She was busy from dawn to dusk trying to make a few rooms livable before the wedding. Daniel had told her he would take care of the painters, and two days after her arrival twelve men duly showed up at Grex’s back door, paintbrushes in hand. While eleven of them went to work preparing the rooms Anne had designated for painting, she sat with the supervisor and picked out colors. Then, while some of the men were painting and some were washing windows, Anne scoured the house for suitable furniture. Fortunately her mother had gotten rid of a good deal of the heavy Jacobean furniture that used to clutter the house, and had bought lighter pieces by Chippendale, Sheraton, Hepplewhite and their ilk. Anne hired a few men from the village to polish up the tables, bookcases, cupboards, highboys and lowboys she collected until their wood glowed. She spread these between the first-floor parlor and the breakfast room. Most of the rugs weren’t worth saving, so she had the men take them up and polish the wood floors. She also bought new linens for the earl’s bedroom and ripped the ancient, dust-laden canopy off the bed. One of the highboys went in the dressing room for Daniel’s clothes, and she brought her own chest in from her room.
She got a funny feeling in her stomach while she was working on the bedroom. It was hard to believe that in a few weeks she would be sharing this room, this bed, with Daniel Dereham. This was not a thought she cared to dwell on, and she banished it quickly whenever it rose to the surface of her mind.
# # #
Daniel arrived at Grex four days before the wedding. As he drove his curricle down the lane he could see the old house in the distance. The bright afternoon sunshine turned its rose-colored bricks to gold, and all of its many windows sparkled in the glowing light. He lowered his hands and stopped his horses so he could sit for a moment and look at it.
Grex. One of the oldest homes in all of England, and it was his. The feeling that welled up inside of him was indescribable – a feeling of possessiveness, of accomplishment, of triumph. He had done it. He had left behind the cottage where he had grown up. He had left behind the laborers and stable lads who had been his friends. He owned this house, and in three days he would marry an earl’s daughter, a woman from his father’s untouchable aristocracy. They – those inhabitants of that world he both wanted and hated at the same time – they might look down their noses at him now, but he knew his was the star of the future. Grex was the first step, and Lady Anne was the second. She was the real thing, an earl’s daughter, born to be a lady. No one would dare to look down his nose at Lady Anne. And, most important of all, no one would dare to despise their children. They would carry his dream into the future. Everything he had ever wanted since he had worked his way to India at the age of sixteen was within his grasp. Daniel lifted his hand and his horses moved on, carrying him to his destiny.
# # #
As well as help for the house, Anne had hired men to work on fixing up the stable. She had also told Frankie, the elderly groom and the only one left to care for the horses, to hire a few stable lads to help him. She assumed Daniel would come by carriage, and it was unthinkable that there should be no one to care for his horses.
She was in the stable inspecting the work when Timmy, one of the new stable lads, came running to find her. “He’s here, my lady, and he’s driving two bang-up horses!”
Oh no, Anne thought in despair. She had planned to meet her fiancé in Grex’s newly painted parlor. She had pictured herself wearing an elegant blue afternoon dress, showing him around the marvels she had wrought in such a short time. Now here she was in her oldest riding skirt, with her hair tied back in a pigtail and an ancient pair of boots on her feet.
Oh well, there was nothing to be done. Anne lifted her chin, affixed a welcoming expression to her face, and went to greet her future husband, her spaniel trotting at her heels.
Daniel was standing at his horses’ heads talking to Frankie when she came out. As she watched, Frankie patted an arched chestnut neck and said something. Daniel laughed, then turned his head as he spotted her coming toward him. He gave her that beguiling smile she remembered so well, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. Really, she thought, annoyed with herself, it should be against the law to be so handsome.
She smiled back and held out her hand as they met. Then, as she remembered she was wearing her old, stained work gloves, she tried to snatch it back. He captured it, however, and held it snugly with his own as he bowed over it politely.
“Sorry about the gloves,” she said as he straightened up. “I knew you were coming, and I intended to change my clothes, but the time rather got away from me.”
“That can often happen when one is engaged with horses,” he said amiably. He looked down at Dorothy, who was wagging her tail ferociously. “And who is this little miss?” he asked.
Anne smiled. “This is Dorothy. We missed each other terribly when I was in England.”
Daniel had bent down and was now scratching behind Dorothy’s long ears. She looked blissful. When he stood up again she shook her head and began to sniff his boots. He said to Anne, “Come and meet my chestnuts. They’re friendly.”
“They’re beautiful,” she said sincerely as she walked beside him up to the horses. They were perfectly matched with identical white blazes down the front of their faces. Their manes were almost as fine as a lady’s hair.
“This is Romeo,” he said, patting the horse on the left, “and this one is Roger.”
“Romeo?” Anne smiled as she patted the shining neck.
“Yes. He hasn’t yet figured out he’s a gelding. I keep him well away from the mares.
Anne laughed. “They’re not Arabians, though.”
“No. I could only bring a few horses home with me. Amit, the black stallion you saw with me in the park, is one of them. I also brought two mares. Those three will be the bedrock of my stud. I’m hoping I can find a few more mares here in England.”
Roger nickered and Daniel changed sides to pat him as well. “I daren’t show any more favor to one than the other. They keep account.”
“Where do you keep Amit?” Anne asked.
“I’m renting a farm near my factory and he’s there at the moment. I didn’t want to bring him here until you have stalls to hold them.”
“We’ve been working on them,” Anne said. “We rebuilt six of the stalls and they’re all strong enough to hold a stallion. Will Amit be all right in the same barn as my mare and pony?”
“Let’s take a look at the stalls now,” he suggested. “They’ll probably be fine for Romeo and Roger, but I’m not certain I want to put Amit in the same barn as a mare.”
To Anne’s relief, Daniel was pleased with work that had been done on the stable. The carpenters had knocked down all of the old stalls and reinforced the stable’s walls and windows before building the new stalls. Originally the stable had held twenty horses and a large part of it now stood empty.
“I’m surprised you could get so much done in so short a time,” Daniel said, looking around the stable, which smelled pleasantly of hay and straw.
“I had the stable work started before the work on the house,” Anne said. “I thought the horses were more important.”
Daniel gave her an approving smile. “Good girl,” he said.
A little to her consternation, Anne found herself enormously pleased by the compliment. Why should Daniel Dereham’s opinion mean so much to her? She hadn’t done the work for him, she had done it for the horses.
She said coolly, “The stable we’re standing in was always used for riding horses. I’m told that in the days of my great grandfather it housed hunters, hacks, ladies’ riding horses and ponies for the children. The other two stables housed the carriage horses and farm horses.” She sighed. “We haven’t had our own carriage horses in years, and the farms have been reduced to just the one that Mr. Harding works.”
She began to walk out of the stable and he followed. “What do you think? Would it be safe to stable Amit here?” she asked when they were back standing in the sunlight.
“I’d like to build an even larger stall for him, away from the mares. Perhaps we could put the carriage horses in between so he doesn’t get a whiff of them.”
“Would you like to look at the other stables to see if they might be useful?”
He shook his head. “I had a look at them when I was here with your father. I think it would be easier to just tear them down and build something new.”
Anne thought of the holes in the roof, of the rotted planks that used to be stalls and felt her face flush with embarrassment. “I’m afraid that neither my father nor my grandfather was a good steward of this property,” she said in a low voice. “Grex was a beautiful home once, but they let it decay, and now...” Her voice trailed away.
He looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a big man, he was of average height and slimly built. But when one was with him one felt a kind of power. It was a distinctly male power, and part of Anne responded to it. The other part of her was afraid. What was it going to be like to be married to Daniel Dereham?
Then he smiled, that beguiling smile that was so attractive. “You love Grex, don’t you, Anne?”
It was the first time he had called her by her name. “Yes,” she said. “It’s my home, and I’m very glad to be back here.” She inhaled deeply, then made herself say, “I’m glad you asked me to marry you.”
His eyebrows, black as coal above those light blue eyes, lifted. Then he said, “We’ll make Grex a beautiful home once again, I promise you. It’s the kind of place I’ve always wanted. It gives off a feeling of being … rooted.”
He had said it perfectly. “Yes,” she said with approval. “That’s it. It’s been here for centuries and centuries of time, and it is rooted.”
He looked around the paddocks, then asked, “Are those your horses in the far paddock?”
“Yes. The mare is Molly. She was bred to race but she wasn’t fast enough. I’ve had her since she was four and she’s seventeen now. The chestnut pony with her is Tucker, my very first horse. He’s 27.”
“You must take good care of your horses,” he said. “A 27-year-old pony, and a 17-year-old thoroughbred….” He nodded in approval.
Anne was pleased by the compliment. “They’ve always been healthy, thank goodness. Molly has the sweetest disposition, and Tucker,” she laughed, “well, he’s a pony. Molly adores him and he tolerates her.
“Hmm.” He was watching Molly as she grazed contentedly. She was a bay and her dark brown coat shone in the afternoon sun.
“I met your horses; would you like to meet mine?” Anne asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I would.”
He gestured for her to precede him, and together they walked along the dirt path that separated the paddocks, Dorothy running in front of them. “The grass looks as if it would be nice and nutritious,” he said as they went by one paddock after another.
“We have wonderful grass here.” Anne was beginning to feel comfortable with this young man. He asked all the right questions, he hadn’t made any sarcastic remarks about the state of the stables, and he wanted to meet Molly.
They stopped at the gate that led into the paddock and Molly whinnied and came trotting over. The pony wasn’t far behind her. Anne reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of carrot for them both.
“She certainly doesn’t look 17,” Daniel said with admiration. “We’ll have to keep Amit away from her. She’s just the type of mare he fancies.”
“We’ll put Romeo and Roger in between them in the stable,” Anne promised.
They turned away from the paddock and began to walk back toward the house. He said, “Do you think I might get something to eat and drink?”
Anne was mortified. “Of course! I’m so sorry! How stupid of me to keep nattering on about horses when you…”
“You weren’t nattering,” he interrupted. “I asked to see your mare, but now I’m ready for some refreshment.”
“So am I,” Anne said. “I hope you’ll like the new paint. Some of it is still damp.”
“I’m sure I’ll like it – as long as it isn’t gold?”
“It’s not gold,” she assured him. “The colors are blue and cream.”
“Good,” he said.
He’s being very nice, Anne thought as she preceded him into the house. I hope he stays this way.