vied for places on my lap. It got rather lively. Lover Boy and Nellie got into an altercation.”
He quirked a brow. “Was either injured?”
Why was it the thought of violent actions aroused men’s interest? “There’s always a bit of blood drawn, and bits of fur go flying, but nothing serious. We’ve become accustomed to it with cats. They’re not as docile with one another as dogs.” She looked up at him. “I daresay like most men, you prefer dogs.”
“I do—but that’s not to say I have anything against cats.”
It did not escape Dot’s notice that Annie looked askance at him over that last comment.
When they reached Milsom the crowds on the pavement thickened. By walking closest to the street, Forrester’s body served to shield the ladies’ gowns from splatters.
“Who won the chess game?” he asked.
Dot’s brows shot up. “Would you care to guess?”
“If I were still a wagering man—which I’m not—my money would be on you.”
She wondered if he were telling her the truth about not gambling any more, or was it a ploy to get his hands on her fortune? After all, he was a noted profligate, according to the Bath Chronicle.
She eked out a smile. “You’d be right, sir.”
“Why so formal?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, there is a disparity in our stations.”
“Not after we’re wed. You’ll be the same rank as me, Lady Appleton-to-Be.”
It was difficult to remain out of charity with him. She had only to think of herself as his wife—she didn’t give a fig that he was a viscount—to forget to be wounded.
And she had only to remember being held in his powerful arms the night before, being thoroughly kissed by him. She could have sighed out loud.
Before a wedding could occur, though, she had to talk to him and make it clear she would not tolerate infidelity in a marriage. She’d heard that’s how marriages in the ton were conducted, and if it were so, she wanted no part of it—even if she had to leave Forrester and return to Blandings.
“What shop are we looking for?” she asked.
“A draper’s by the name of Foley’s.”
“I know it,” Annie said.
Dot nodded. “Me, too. I remember it’s on the other side of the street.”
Annie smiled. “That’s right.”
“I’ve lived in Bath for years and never noticed it, and how long have you been here?” he asked Dot.
She shrugged. “About five weeks.”
“You’re making me feel most inferior.”
“Wait until you play chess with me,” she said, giving him an exaggerated haughty grin.
“I shall have to abstain. My pride is already bruised.”
She wondered why his pride would have been bruised. It certainly was not because he’d failed to notice a linen draper’s.
At the next intersection, they had to wait for a pony cart laden with onions, a milk cart, several solo men on horses, and a mail coach to pass before the way was clear for them to cross the busy street.
Next to the door for Foley’s Linen Drapers was another door leading to a steep flight of wooden stairs which they took to the landing on the third level, where there were two doors, one Number Four, the other Number Five. “She’s at Four,” he said as he knocked.
He knocked several times before a voice behind the door asked. “Who do you be?”
Dot didn’t blame the girl for being cautious. After all, her closest friend had been brutally murdered.
“It’s Lord Appleton.”
The door opened, and a young woman—or was she still a girl?—smiled at him in obvious recognition. “Sir Elvin told me to expect you and yer lady friend today. Won’t you come in? I’m sure yer lordship is accustomed to much finer lodgings than this, but I aim to keep it clean.”
They swept into the shabby chamber. It was a fairly large room that served a trio of purposes. A lumpy bed edged into one corner and an eating table and chair into another while another third of the chamber accommodated a sofa covered in faded chintz. The clean wooden floors had no rugs, but simple cotton curtains covered the front and back windows.
The girl herself could not have reached twenty. Even though Maryann obviously could not afford costly clothing, she dressed stylishly in a mint green morning dress with puffed sleeves and scooped neckline. Her white, white skin resembled the finest porcelain, and her coppery hair coiled into ringlets.
It took no great understanding for Dot to realize Mrs. Starr shrewdly selected her girls because of their beauty, for Maryann’s face and figure were both flawless.
Just being in her presence