She watched him watch the man move toward them. Instead of addressing Forrester, though, the man came to stand beside Miss Appleton. “Good evening, Miss Appleton. How good it is to see you again.” Then he looked at her brother and Blanks, nodding to each and giving each of the men a curt address.
It did not escape her notice that both Forrester and Blanks returned his greeting with only a nod. No smile, no words, though both men were, to her observation, normally friendly.
Even the normally congenial Miss Appleton was brusque. “Good evening, Mr. Wolf,” was all she had to say to him.
Their group was blocking the center aisle as thickening crowds were moving into the chamber. “We’d best take our seats,” Forrester said, presenting his back to Mr. Wolf. How odd, she thought, that he did not even introduce her to this Mr. Wolf.
Obviously, there was some degree of bad blood between Mr. Wolf and Forrester and Blanks.
The Blankenships came to sit on the same row of chairs with them. A gilt harp and a pianoforte stood unattended at the front of the chamber. A few moments after the five of them were seated, she discreetly turned to look about the room. Now it was completely full. On the last row she observed Mr. Wolf sitting by himself. A loner. I must ask Forrester about this man they all shunned. Why did they all loathe him so? Even sweet Miss Appleton.
She turned to that lady. “I haven’t told you how exceedingly happy I am that we shall be sisters.”
Miss Appleton took both her hands. “We couldn’t have asked for a better wife for Timothy. I can’t wait for our other sisters to meet you. I know they’ll love you just as much as I do.”
“You will surely turn me into a watering pot, my dearest Miss Appleton.”
“You must call me Annie.”
“And you must call me Dot.”
The entertainers then moved to the front of the chamber, and the voices in the room quieted. A matronly woman in a voluminous gown of flimsy icy blue that one could see through introduced the singer, an exceedingly young and very pretty Miss Elizabeth Milford.
The young lady sang like a nightingale. Dot was mesmerized. Mr. Pankhurst had seen to it that talented pianists and singers instructed Dot, but never had she imagined the human voice could display such perfection as demonstrated by Miss Milford. How could every man in this room not fall in love with the beautiful songstress?
Dot had never felt more inadequate.
The singer was so beautiful it wouldn’t have mattered what the lovely young woman wore, but her clothing, too, was perfection. Her crepe dress of the palest green scooped low in front—though the lady’s bosom was almost non-existent—and rose to puffs of sleeves. A demi-train of gauze in the same shade of pale green was only barely discernable in the shimmering candlelight. Dot thought she was the most elegant creature she’d ever seen.
Without moving her head, Dot kept looking at Forrester to try to gauge his interest in Miss Milford. He did not remove his eyes from her. Dot found herself wondering if he would have been attracted to the singer were he not betrothed. Would he wish that he had seen her before meeting Dot?
Even though Dot’s own dress was lovelier than any in the room, she could not deny that she envied the beautiful Miss Elizabeth Milford.
She was grateful she had come to Bath and been awakened to a world she’d never dreamed existed—even if she still thought of herself as a misfit. Most of all, she was thankful for Forrester. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was wildly in love with her, but she was hopeful that love would grow between them.
He was a good man. Good men became faithful and loving husbands. As one who had been able to observe village life, Dot had the opportunity to learn a good deal about human nature.
When Miss Milford’s performance came to an end, Dot was disappointed. It had been her first-ever musical, and she had not wanted it to stop. Moreover, she did not want this night to be over. Dressing in lovely clothing, being with her new friends, and most of all, being with Forrester was exhilarating. She did not want to go home.
“Excuse me for a moment, love, while I speak to Blanks.” Forrester gently set a hand to her arm before moving away.
She then turned to Annie. “How did you enjoy your first musical?” Annie asked.
“It was more wonderful than I ever could have imagined.” Her gaze swept to the rear of the chamber, and she saw Mr. Wolf slink away. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Who is Mr. Wolf, and why is everyone so discourteous to him?”
Annie shrugged. “I am not privy to that information. I know only that the man was desirous of meeting me, and my brother rather loathes him. Timothy’s disfavor is enough to win my disapproval. I would also add that my brother rarely speaks ill of anyone and is predisposed to like most people. He’s an excellent judge of character—and of right and wrong.”
Dot smiled. “I am most happy to learn that for I value your opinion most sincerely.”
Forrester returned, and to her pleasure, placed his hand to her waist. “Our coach should be waiting.”
They said goodnight to the Blankenships and followed the crowd as it emptied from the packed chamber.
A gusty wind accompanied the night’s chill. “Good lord, it’s beastly cold!” Forrester hurried the ladies toward the waiting carriage.
Once they were in the coach, he addressed his sister. “I’ve instructed the coachman to drop you off at Camden Crescent.”
Annie smirked good naturedly. “So that you and your sweetheart can be alone.”
Dot’s heartbeat thumped. Would he try to kiss her? How incredibly romantic. Yet at the same time, Dot was terrified her ineptitude would embarrass her. Would he be able to determine she had no experience kissing? Would
