Once Upon a Time in Bath (The Brides of Bath #7) - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,24

young women. He was so distraught he’d forgotten about his own infirmities.

For herself, Dot would risk facing the madman to stay in Bath. She must find a way to convey to her father how important it was that she be allowed to remain here.

Then, like the swipe of a hand across a frosted window, she clearly saw what she could say to change his mind. She recalled how proud he’d been that morning when he’d said, My daughter, Lady Appleton. She didn’t for a moment believe she was fit to be Lord Appleton’s wife, nor did she believe he would ask her to be, but for now, her father must believe such a declaration was imminent.

“Papa! I beg that you sit down so we can discuss the matter. You’ll only aggravate your gout.”

He came to sit on his favorite chair near the fire, and Dot bent over to pull up a stool upon which he could rest his foot. Then she sat facing him upon the velvet sofa the same shade of royal blue as the room’s damask walls. “I am not going to leave Bath.”

“You will do what I tell you to do, young lady!” His voice had risen again.

She shrugged and sighed. “You shall ruin all my prospects. I thought you desired that I wed. Just this morning you told the elder Mrs. Blankenship how fortunate she was to have two grandchildren, and that you longed to have grandchildren. And now you’re spoiling my chances to find a husband.” She pouted.

Next, she expertly extracted her trump. “I thought you had noticed how partial Lord Appleton is to me. . .”

Her father’s brows shot up, and a smile tweaked at the corners of his mouth. “I most decidedly have noticed! Has he said anything?”

She shrugged again. “Little things here and there. As you know, I’m ignorant of courting, but I believe his efforts to gain my favor must be for the purpose of asking for my hand.”

“Well, that paints a very different picture. I wouldn’t worry so about you as long as there was a man to take care of you, to protect you, to love you.”

Her stomach—or was it her heart?—did an odd flutter when he said to love you. “As a matter of fact, my dearest Papa, that’s exactly what his lordship pledged to do this afternoon.”

Her father’s face went from gloomy to elated. “That sounds like a declaration to me.”

She nodded. “He made his vow whilst a group of us were discussing the murder. He said he would not allow either me or his sister to move about this city without his protection.” She hadn’t even had to lie to her father to make her case.

A huge smile lifted her father’s face. “See! I was right. The man’s besotted over you.” He looked at her with shimmering eyes. “Lord Appleton is possessed of very fine taste in everything—especially in young women.”

As they spoke, the raindrops began to spray upon the windows. They would not be leaving their home for the rest of the day. When would she see Lord Appleton again?

* * *

Appleton sat at the desk in his library, rain thumping against the windows, gray skies contributing to his forlorn mood that had been mounting all day.

The door squeaked open and Annie poked her head in. Her brows lowered as she regarded him with a quizzing look. “Bertram said you wished to see me?”

He stood. “Yes, please come. Let’s sit by the fire. It’s certainly turned much colder.”

She pulled her scarlet shawl about her shoulders. He would never understand women’s fashions. Why in the devil did style dictate the exposure of delicate female skin when it was cold enough to tint that skin purple?

“Indeed,” she said.

They sat together on the sofa that faced the hearth. Save for his bed, this was the coziest place in the house. That’s why he’d selected it for this conversation with his sister.

Asking her to join him in the library was most irregular, but owing to the closeness the two had always shared, this meeting was necessary.

He drew a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I’m going to offer for Miss Pankhurst.”

Annie gasped.

“You don’t approve?” he asked.

Her eyes met his, scrutinizing him as if he were a stranger. He kept waiting for her to speak. “I approve of Miss Pankhurst very much,” she finally said. “She’s intelligent, refreshingly honest, and she is possessed of a kind heart. The man who marries her will be most fortunate—and not just in