Once Upon a Time in Bath (The Brides of Bath #7) - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,76
the hollow of her neck and traced a path of butterfly kisses. “If we’re to reach Hawthorne Manor by dark, Lady Appleton, we must be leaving.”
That was the first time she’d been addressed by her new title, and it made her feel as if she’d just imbibed an entire bottle of champagne. And when he touched her like this, she could hardly think of anything except her physical pleasure and how thoroughly she was in love with this man.
“I need to thank Mrs. Blankenship before we go,” she said.
That lady, dressed in an elegant pale blue gown, came up to the newlyweds. “You’ve no need to thank me.”
“But thanks to your efforts, everyone who matters to us attended our wedding,” Dot said. “Did you even get a moment’s sleep last night?”
Mr. Pankhurst had come to stand beside the widow. “Who could sleep? Even had we not been up half the night with the magistrates who arrested that wicked monster, I would never have been able to purge from my mind the fact he almost killed my daughter.” He eyed Forrester. “I owe everything I possess to you, my lord.” His eyes grew moist. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that my only child will be as cherished by you as she has always been by me.”
“Thank you, sir, for entrusting her to me. There’s not a happier man in the kingdom than I am today.”
“I just might be,” Mr. Pankhurst said, giving the widow an amused glance as he slipped his arm around her. “Mrs. Blankenship—Helen—has done me the goodness to consent to wed me.”
Dot flung herself at her father. “Oh, Papa! That is, indeed, wonderful news. Now I shan’t worry about leaving you.” Then she turned to Helen Blankenship. “I am so happy for both of you.”
“I shall be very happy to become a member of the Pankhurst family. With each invitation I wrote out throughout the night, I kept thinking how you’re to now be my daughter, and I was doing what any mother of the bride would be doing.”
“I am very grateful,” Dot said. “You certainly contributed to this being the happiest day of my life.”
An impatient look on his face, Forrester looked heavenward. “Now that it’s settled we are the happiest four persons in all of England, will you oblige me, my dearest bride, by leaving now?”
Dot looked up at him. “There’s just one more matter.”
“Uh oh,” he said.
“Instead of my kitties coming to Hawthorne Manor in the luggage carriage, can they ride with us?”
He gave her a stern look. For a few seconds. Then he broke into a smile. “You’ve caught me in a charitable mood. After all, it was one of your d---, er, darling cats who brought us together.” He leaned into her and brushed her lips with his. “And besides, I am powerless to ever refuse you anything, my beloved vixen.”
They finally said their farewells and got into her husband’s coach. He pulled her close. No words were necessary. Two hours of marriage could hardly make them feel as one, but that is precisely how she felt at that moment.
She’d never felt more loved. She knew he hadn’t been in love with her when he asked her to marry him. Even over the next several days after she accepted his offer and they spent time together, he was not in love with her. But during those days he had grown to love her. Her dreams were just fulfilled quite a bit sooner than she had expected.
There was so much she admired about him, but she thought his complete honesty with her was perhaps what she treasured the most. Last night, after the injured Henry Wolf had been arrested, Forrester told her the whole story about how Ellie had cheated to strip him of his fortune. He confessed that he had initially only been interested in Dot’s dowry, but that the longer he was with her, the fonder he became of her.
He admitted that at the second assembly he finally began to desire her in the way a man desires a woman. Then after they had visited the decayed church, the worry he felt toward her was so paralyzing he knew it would destroy him if anything happened to her.
And just before he had kissed her goodnight, he’d revealed how tortured he’d been all the way back from London, worrying he would lose her.
“Forrester?”
The pad of his thumb wove circles on her hand. “Yes, love?”