by Cheryl Bolen
He nodded. “I’ve known them almost all of my life, and I still can’t tell one from the other, at least visually. When they speak, I know which one’s intelligent about classical learning—and which one knows more about wom. . .” Appleton stopped himself. He couldn’t allow Miss Pankhurst to know his best friend was knowledgeable about women and mistresses and gambling and sporting pursuits. That wouldn’t do at all. He cleared his throat. “About horses.”
“My Dot will be in her element with those brilliant men,” Mr. Pankhurst said. “You will never find a more clever female.”
“Papa! I beg you to cease praising me. It’s most mortifying.”
Mr. Pankhurst shrugged. “I shall try, but it’s difficult. I only speak the truth.”
“Stop!”
It wasn’t Jonathan’s wife who accompanied Pixie into the chamber. It was Jonathan’s mother.
After the introductions were made, Glee Blankenship flung herself on the Turkey carpet in order to play with the cats. What was it about these stealthy creatures that so excited those of the opposite gender? Perhaps Sir Elvin should have come. They might be on to something here. The way to a lady’s heart might be through her cat.
Appleton reached down to pet Lover Boy. He might feign affection for the beast, but he would draw the line at calling it by that ridiculous name.
“I can just see Little Gregory with a kitten of his own,” the elder Mrs. Blankenship said, smiling at her daughter-in-law.
Glee’s eyes narrowed. “Pray, Mama, you must curb your partiality for our son. I’m sure Joy would enjoy a kitty just as much as her brother.”
“Forgive me. You know how much I adore Joy even if she is more rambunctious than half a dozen unruly lads! It’s just that little boys have always held the key to my heart.”
Glee rolled her eyes. “I will own, Little Gregory is possessed of the sweetest nature imaginable. He’s very easy to spoil.” She eyed her hostess. “I would love to own cats. Unfortunately, my husband does not share my enthusiasm. Perhaps one day you’d allow me to bring my children to play with these little fellows.”
Appleton and Blanks had another thing in common: a dislike of felines.
“I should be thrilled. But only one of my kitties is actually a fellow,” Miss Pankhurst answered.
Appleton stopped himself from thinking about playing a jest on Blanks. He’d always been a great lover of practical jokes, but he must conduct himself with more maturity now that he was thirty and head of the house. Therefore, he decided not to encourage Miss Pankhurst to trot through Bath with her bevy of cats or take them to the Blankenships’ house on Queen Square.
Besides, if he were going to ask for the young woman’s hand in marriage, he’d as lief she not make herself a laughingstock by parading about the city with her cats.
“So, Mrs. Blankenship,” Miss Pankhurst said to Glee, “you have a son and a daughter?”
Glee’s pretty face brightened. “Indeed we do.”
“And those are your only grandchildren?” Mr. Pankhurst asked the elder Mrs. Blankenship.
“Yes. My son Jonathan has not been married long, and there are just the two Blankenship sons.”
“You are indeed blessed,” Mr. Pankhurst said to the elder lady. “Two sons and two grandchildren.”
The woman’s lashes lowered coyly at being addressed by a man of her own age. Had the elder woman learned of Mr. Pankhurst’s vast wealth? Was the widow hoping to snag another wealthy husband? “Indeed I am, Mr. Pankhurst. I do wish you could see my little darlings.”
“You must bring them to see my daughter’s cats.”
“Depend upon it.”
Appleton stood. “I must be off.” His gaze went to Miss Pankhurst, who stood and faced him. “Will you allow me to collect you this afternoon for a visit to the Pump Room?” he asked.
She looked to her father, who almost imperceptivity nodded.
“Will Miss Appleton come, too?” Miss Pankhurst asked.
“Yes, of course.”
Chapter 5
After all their guests had departed, her papa acted like the barnyard rooster who’d turned into a peacock. “I declare, Dot, that lord means to court you! Can you credit it? The daughter of Westmoreland Pankhurst, country squire, Lady Appleton!” He quite forgot his gouty foot as he began to waltz about the drawing room, a smile stretching across his face.
The very notion that Lord Appleton would bestow his affections upon her stole Dot’s breath away and caused a rumbling to her insides. She dared not allow herself to contemplate a match that was so improbable—and so unequal. No peer of the realm would be interested in the exceedingly unfashionable Miss Dorothea Pankhurst who had never before traveled beyond the borders of rural Lincolnshire. “No, Papa, I cannot credit it. The man is merely being agreeable.”
“I beg to differ. He’s possessed of very discerning taste. One has only to look at him to know what a keen eye he has. That trained eye enabled him to detect your beauty beneath what I’ve come to understand was hideously outdated clothing.”
“But I am not beautiful. It’s only because you are so partial to me that you find me possessed of such qualities.”
He shook his head emphatically. “Even Miss Appleton agrees that you are quite lovely.”
“Then she’s even kinder than her brother.”
“You exasperate me! It’s as plain as the nose on my face that Lord Appleton is besotted over my daughter.”
“You, my dear father, are blinded by your paternal partiality.” Then a terrifying thought occurred to her. What if Lord Appleton was only feigning attraction to her in order to get his hands on her dowry?
Having lived all her life away from Society, Dot had never had to concern herself with fortune hunters. Even in Bath, the prospect of attracting such mercenary men had never entered her mind. Truth to tell, she had not even considered that she’d meet any men at all. She’d come here in the singular hope of restoring her father’s health.
Then she had met Lord Appleton and been dazzled by everything about him: his good looks, his amiable ways, the tasteful manner in which he dressed, and most of all, his attentions to her.
Was he genuine? He had to be. No one in Bath could have known how exceedingly wealthy her father was. After all, until her shopping foray, they had not flaunted their wealth. God knows, the clothes she had worn when she met Lord Appleton had most thoroughly disguised that the Pankhursts were possessed of a large fortune.
No, she thought to herself, his lordship could not possibly have known of her generous dowry. But she could not account for his interest in her. How she wished she could believe her father was right about the handsome lord being attracted to her.
For, as much as she wished it were not so, she was most decidedly attracted to him.
That did not mean she was foolish enough to envision herself becoming Lady Appleton. She was intelligent enough to know they were from o different worlds, and she did not belong in his.
Even so, she determined that she would look as lovely as she possibly could when he called for her that afternoon.
* * *
Appleton and Annie were just about to leave their house on Camden Crescent when Elvin called. As soon as Appleton got a good look at his friend, he became alarmed. “Is everything all right?”
“I am well, as is my family. I beg a private word with you, though.”
Appleton felt as if he’d been struck. Elvin did not look at all well. What the devil was amiss? “Come to the library.”
After closing that chamber’s door behind them, he whirled to his friend. “What’s wrong?”
“You remember Ellie from Mrs. Starr’s?”
“Of course.” It was barely a week earlier that young lady was present at his ruination.
“She’s been murdered.”
Appleton’s eyes widened. His gut clenched. “How?”
“Her body was found floating in the River Avon. It is believed she was strangled to death.”
Sic
kened, Appleton collapsed onto a chair. He pictured her youthful prettiness, her flashing blue eyes, her tinkling laugh. It seemed incredulous that anyone so lively could be dead. “How did you learn this?”
“It was in the Bath Chronicle. It said she didn’t show up for work last night. Poor Mrs. Starr identified her body.”
“My God, who would do such a thing?” Appleton shook his head solemnly. “She wasn’t much more than a girl.”
“I daresay she was younger than Annie, er, Miss Appleton.”
Appleton nodded. “The madman must be one of those sex maniacs.”
“I daresay you’re right.”
“I hope the fiend is apprehended.”
“Death’s too good for him.” Elvin shook his head in a most morose fashion. “I believe I could kill him myself. Ellie was such a pretty little thing.”
“All of Mrs. Starr’s girls are pretty things, old fellow.” Sitting here brooding would neither bring her back nor apprehend the man responsible for her death. Appleton stood and sighed. “Care to accompany me and Annie to the Pump Room? We’re going to collect Miss Pankhurst.”
“Anything to keep my mind off this terrible tragedy.”
* * *
As her father sat in an invalid’s chair, Miss Pankhurst kissed him on the cheek, and one of those massive footman began to push the older man along the pavement as Lord Appleton approached their house.
“Taking the waters this afternoon, sir?” Appleton asked Mr. Pankhurst as the two came abreast of one another.
“It’s the reason I’ve come to Bath. My daughter assures me they will restore my fragile health.” He sighed. “I, on the other hand, fear my infirmities are beyond help.”
“I agree with your daughter,” Appleton said. “You’re still a young man.”
Mr. Pankhurst sighed. “Would that you were right.”
As the invalid’s chair moved along, Appleton turned his attention to the woman he meant to court. How fashionable she looked in her flimsy—though beautiful in its delicacy—white under dress topped by a lavender tunic. Even though the neckline was high, his gaze skimmed appreciatively over the sizable swell of her bosom. “You’re looking most fetching, Miss Pankhurst.”
She smiled. “It’s awfully clever of me to first show myself to disadvantage by presenting myself to Bath Society in rags, is it not?” She gave a little laugh.
Her laugh was contagious. Annie, too, joined in. Appleton found himself nodding. “And I thought your father was boasting about your intelligence when he was merely being truthful.”
She looked heavenward. “Pray, pay no attention to my father when I am the topic of his boasts. Parents are no accurate judge of their offspring.”
Annie hooked her arm through Miss Pankhurst’s as the four of them started toward the Pump Room. “Well spoken, Miss Pankhurst—not that I disagree with your dear father. My father was so blinded by his affection for his daughters, he was in want of sense. In his eyes, we were each perfection. And, I must say, at times he embarrassed us excessively.”
“Especially when he insisted Abby could sing like a nightingale,” Appleton said, chuckling.
Laughing, Annie nodded. “When her voice is, unfortunately, excruciatingly offensive.”
He needed a chuckle. The news of Ellie’s murder preyed on him. He could not purge from his mind the horrifying thought of her frail, lifeless body floating in the river. Why would anyone do such a thing?
When they arrived at the Pump Room, Glee Blankenship was already there, but this time she was accompanied by the younger Mrs. Blankenship, who had married Blanks’ half-brother Jonathan. Appleton’s group joined the two ladies.
“I declare, Blanks almost didn’t allow me to come,” Glee said.
Appleton lifted a brow. It wasn’t like Blanks to be so authoritarian with his wife. A more indulgent husband Appleton had never seen. “That doesn’t sound like Blanks.”
Glee sighed. “It’s just that he worries so about me. And about our children. You know what a tender heart he possesses.”
Appleton nodded. “What has him so worried?”
As soon as he spoke, he knew.
Glee’s eyes rounded. “Have you not heard? There’s a madman running about Bath murdering young women!”
His stomach fell. The expression on his face turned grim. “Indeed. I had heard.”
Elvin nodded. “In fact, we knew the unfortunate victim.”
Annie whirled to Elvin, her eyes wide with fear. “How dreadful! Who was she?”
“A young woman employed at Mrs. Starr’s Gaming Establishment.”
Miss Pankhurst’s brows lowered as she faced Glee. “Are you saying there’s a homicidal maniac in Bath?”
“Indeed, Miss Pankhurst,” Glee confirmed. “It’s really the most horrid thing. The young woman was found murdered in the River Avon this very morning.”
Miss Pankhurst looked at Elvin. “This is the woman from Mrs. Starr’s?”
He nodded solemnly.
“The poor woman,” Miss Pankhurst murmured.
Annie echoed the remark, then questioned Glee. “How did you learn of this wretched crime?”
“It was in the Bath Chronicle this afternoon. The edition came out earlier than usual, I suppose because of the sensational news.”
“I do hope my father doesn’t see the Chronicle. I shouldn’t want to return to Blandings,” Miss Pankhurst said.
Appleton hoped so, too. It wouldn’t do at all for the man to whisk his daughter back to Lincolnshire—though he wouldn’t blame him if he wished to. Appleton himself didn’t at all like to think of Annie being in danger from the maniac. He thanked God his other two sisters were far away and vowed to more strictly guard Annie until the deranged madman was apprehended.
“I think Blanks is right to be worried,” he said, eyeing first his sister and then Miss Pankhurst. “In fact, from this point forward, you ladies should not be permitted to be out after dark without the protection of a man.” He stood a bit straighter. “I offer myself for that role to both of you.”
“And if you’re not available,” Elvin said, “I shall offer myself.” Then he proffered his arm to Annie. “May I escort you about the chamber, Miss Appleton?”
Appleton stepped up to Miss Pankhurst. “May I have the honor, Miss Pankhurst?”
She placed her hand on his arm. He’d not noticed before that her hands were dainty. As they walked, he kept thinking about poor Ellie, which put him in a foul mood. He was not fit company for anyone, much less a lady he meant to woo.
What if Mr. Pankhurst, upon hearing there was a madman killing young women in Bath, promptly removed his precious daughter from this city?
She was Appleton’s only hope of redeeming the family fortunes—and saving Annie from a reprobate like Henry Wolf.
Even though he’d only known the lady a few days, perhaps Appleton needed to declare himself to Miss Pankhurst now. The very thought of shackling himself frightened him. That and regret that he would not be marrying for love. Nevertheless, he must act. For his family.
Now, to get up the courage. . .
She softly stroked his hand. “I’m very sorry, my lord, that you’ve lost your friend. I can tell that you’re greatly saddened over the death of the young lady from Mrs. Starr’s.” Her voice was gentle and kind.
How many other young women from the upper middle classes would be so sympathetic over the loss of what many would consider an insignificant lower-class girl employed at a gaming establishment?
“Tell me about her.”
For some unaccountable reason, he found he did want to discuss Ellie. “She wasn’t very old. How old are you, Miss Pankhurst?”
She swallowed. “Three-and-twenty.”
Was she embarrassed to admit she was still unwed at such an age? “I would say that Ellie—I don’t know her surname—was younger than you. Perhaps one-and-twenty. She could have been even younger. She was very pretty. Blonde and small boned. Like most girls in her situation, I suspect
her life may have been hard before she came to Mrs. Starr’s, but she was always cheerful, and I think those girls were happy to have a position where they earned a decent wage—and it didn’t hurt that they were admired by the men who were their patrons. Most of the men were from a higher station than these girls would normally mix with.”
He took a deep breath and continued. “While some of the girls there were no innocents, no taint ever touched Ellie. She was a good girl. She did not deserve such an end.” His voice cracked.
“No one deserves such an end.”
He covered her hand with his. “Thank you, Miss Pankhurst.”
“For what?”
“For listening. For understanding. For caring about an unfortunate girl few will miss.”
Those great eyes of hers glistened. “We must do everything in our power to see that her death is not forgotten, that her murderer does not go free.”
He nodded solemnly. Having Miss Pankhurst as his ally was comforting.
* * *
Dot had been in rather a hurry to get home from the Pump Room. It was her desire to get the Bath Chronicle before her father saw it. Were he to read about a madman killing young women, he’d hasten her back to Blandings even before her fine dresses could be delivered.
As frightening as it was to know a murderer lurked in this lovely city, she did not want to return home. Now that she’d been exposed to much more of the world and met and mingled with interesting people near her own age, life in Lincolnshire would be unbearably restrictive.
And, more than anything, she was not ready to terminate this fledgling relationship with Lord Appleton. Why was it when she wasn’t with him, she longed to be with him? Why was it that being with him brought her so much joy? She did not understand why this man affected her so profoundly, but she couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.
As soon as she entered their home that afternoon, Dot snatched up the Chronicle from the entry hall’s long sideboard and raced to the library to read about the demise of the unfortunate Ellie. It only took a moment to read the account: