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:
The pristine waters of our city’s River Avon were the scene of a most grisly occurrence on this morning of November eleventh when the lifeless body of a young woman was discovered. Jeremiah Biggs alerted magistrates to the unfortunate tragedy this morning whilst he was powering his boat downstream.
The body was identified as Miss Ellie Macintosh by Mrs. Isobel Starr, proprietor of a gaming establishment on Dorchester Street. According to Mrs. Starr, she became alarmed when Miss Macintosh did not show up for work last night and called at her lodgings, only to discover the young woman was not there, either.
It was thought Miss Macintosh was twenty years of age and had been in the employment of Mrs. Starr for the past three years. “She never missed a day, so I feared something was
