Once Upon a Time in Bath (The Brides of Bath #7) - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,35
to accompany you.”
The coach then drew up before her house. She waited a moment, expecting him to kiss her. But he didn’t. The coachman opened the door, and one of her family’s footmen sprang from the house.
“I shall endeavor to meet you tomorrow at the lending library,” Forrester said as she moved to exit the carriage. Had he slapped her in the face, she could not have felt more rejected.
He hadn’t even wanted to kiss her.
Chapter 9
The two young ladies spent over an hour perusing the shelves of the lending library. During that time they discovered their taste in poetry dovetailed almost perfectly. Though they recognized Lord Byron’s genius, his narrative did not speak to either of them. But each confessed that upon reading Lyrical Ballads, an exciting new world of poetry had opened up to her. “I declare, Dot,” Annie said, “I have memorized almost every stanza penned by Wordsworth.”
A huge smile broke over Dot’s face. “It’s the same with me. In fact, the pages of my copy, which I’ve brought here to Bath, are pathetically limp and crumpled from use.”
“Mine is the same!”
Both women went on to criticize the gothic romances written by Mrs. Radcliffe. “I’m not terribly interested in novels,” Annie said, “but I did greatly admire Pride and Prejudice.”
“I’ve read it three times. I confess I fell in love with Mr. Darcy and giggled excessively over Mr. Collins.”
“I never thought of myself as a romantic until I read it.”
“Who wouldn’t fall in love with Mr. Darcy?” Dot had never given much thought to marrying until she read that book. And now she was ripe for matrimony and her own Mr. Darcy.
Her insides felt queasy when she recalled the awkwardness in the carriage the previous night when her husband-to-be did not want to kiss her.
“What do you prefer to read?” Annie asked.
“Papa says I have well-rounded reading taste, but then he imbues me with many qualities I don’t possess.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I will own a partiality to reading about history though I don’t have a great fondness for the Greeks.” She moved to a shelf that featured history tomes. “I thought I might enjoy Gibbons’ Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire.”
“All those volumes?”
Dot smiled. “Just the first today. It’s in our library at Blandings, but I haven’t read it. Now I fancy doing so.” She picked up Volume One.
“I’m partial to Mr. Scott’s historical novels myself.”
“Oh, I do share your interest in those. When I finish Gibbons . . .” Dot laughed.
Annie selected Scott’s newest novel, and the two moved to the attendant in order to process their books.
By the time they finished, Forrester stood on the pavement in front of the library, the family coach waiting. Dot thought he looked exceptionally fine today in a brown woolen coat the same colour as his hair. He wore it with buff breeches and soft leather boots that had obviously been polished that morning. A freshly starched cravat in white linen accentuated his straight white teeth. Even though his dress could not have been more casual, next to the other men moving through the streets of Bath, his tasteful elegance made him look like a king among beggars.
He addressed his sister. “I’ve come to collect my betrothed. I’ll return you to Camden Crescent.” He chuckled. “I brought the coach because I thought you’d be laden down with books and didn’t want you to have to walk uphill with so heavy a load. Why the unusually light load?”
“Because Dot and I spoke endlessly of our similar taste in books. My soon-to-be-sister and I have a great deal in common when it comes to reading.”
His smile brought an immediate softening of his features. “It has not escaped my observations that you two have a great deal in common, notwithstanding books.”
The ladies exchanged amused glances. “How perceptive your brother is.”
He handed first his sister into the coach, then Dot, whom he came to sit beside. He examined each lady’s choice.
“Do you approve, sir?” Dot asked.
“I’ve not yet read Annie’s book, so I cannot say.” He eyed Dot’s. “Why just the one volume of Gibbons?”
“Because I expect it will take quite some time to finish it. My father has the set in his library at Blandings.”
“As do I at Hawthorne Manor.”
“And you recommend it?”
“I found it fascinating reading. I’m just surprised that a . . . a woman would be interested in reading it.”
Dot bristled. “You offend me.”
“Yes, Timothy! Why should women not be permitted to read the same things