Forrester moved to her and settled a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for talking with us today. If I can ever be of assistance, you can find me at Camden Place. And I beg of you, do not walk alone at night and always lock your door.”
“Thank you, my lord. As it is, Mrs. Starr has retained the services of a hackney coach to take home all the girls at the end of the evening. All the girls that’s left, that is.”
“That’s very good of her.”
Dot came and set a hand on her forearm. “If you remember anything else, do let Lord Appleton know. Do give the lady your card, my darling,” Dot said to Forrester.
It took him a moment to find which pocket he’d put the cards in. “We shan’t rest until the wicked man pays for his crime,” he said as they left.
* * *
Now they had gotten information, such as it was, from Ellie’s landlady and elderly neighbor as well as Ellie’s closest friend, Appleton knew barely more than he’d known before he started. He felt like the exhausted fisherman with empty nets.
They had learned Ellie had taken money for doing something she regretted, and that she had met with a possibly dark-haired gentleman of above average height at Sydney Gardens. It took no great intelligence to believe the two things they’d learned were related.
Seeing the fear that petrified the youthful Maryann made him even more determined to do everything in his power to stop the murderer from striking again.
Girls like Maryann and Ellie didn’t deserve to die. They were young and harmless and without protectors. They should have many more years to look forward to, years that would see them marry and have families of their own.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Dot said as they walked along Bath’s stone pavement. “Reflecting?”
He nodded. “Did you see the terror on her face?”
“It was heart wrenching,” Dot said. “I’m so grateful not to live alone.”
Even though they were going uphill, Dot did not seem to have any problem matching him step for step. Annie was accustomed to it, but few London-bred ladies could tolerate this city’s hilly terrain. “You are accustomed to walking when you’re back in Lincolnshire?” he asked.
“I am. I’ve always preferred it to riding. I daresay you will not be surprised to learn that my father prefers riding. I find that always riding can make one lazy as well as corpulent.”
He couldn’t help himself. His gaze traveled over her pleasing figure. “I am happy you prefer walking to riding.”
“What you really mean is that you’re happy I’m not corpulent!”
“My brother has little practice speaking to respectable young ladies,” Annie said, shooting him a mischievous stare.
He glared at her. Were she younger, she deserved a good spanking.
As they walked along, he thought of how much his sisters disliked walking at their country estate, complaining about muddying their shoes and the hemlines of their dresses. Each of them preferred riding horses, and their very favorite mode of transport was being ensconced in a warm carriage. Dot was a most singular lady, to be sure.
And such an affectionate nature! He’d regretted allowing Annie to accompany them today. He rather looked forward to capturing another kiss from the woman he was going to marry.
Ah, marriage! For the first time, he found himself looking forward to marrying Dot . . . and sharing her bed.
Chapter 15
Early the following afternoon, the elder Mrs. Blankenship presented herself and her grandchildren at the Pankhurst residence, where the man of the house was delighted over the surprise visit.
“I’ve brought you a copy of my son’s book,” she said, placing the leather-bound volume in his hands.
His face brightened even more as he examined the title: Observations on a Parliamentary Government. “I shall begin reading it this very day.” He met her proud gaze. “It was very thoughtful of you, my dear Mrs. Blankenship.”
“Have the children come to play with the kitties?” Dot asked.
“If it’s not inconvenient for you.”
“Not in the least.”
This time Baby Gregory was not content to sit upon the sofa and have a docile cat placed in his lap. He took to chasing Lover Boy, the largest of Dot’s felines. When the cat politely allowed the toddler to catch up with him, Gregory almost took Dot’s breath away when he promptly straddled the cat in an attempt to ride him as if he were a pony.
Before Dot could be struck with apoplexy, Mrs. Blankenship snatched up the errant little lad. “No, no.”
Dot exhaled.
The grandmother then had her grandson return to the sofa whereupon Dot placed Preenie Queenie on his lap. To Dot’s delight, Preenie—the most indolent of her cats—was content to sit and allow the little lad to stroke her mass of fluffy fur.
“I’ve come to tell you,” Mrs. Blankenship said to Dot, “that I’ve spoken with my son, and he’s agreed to participate in your salon. He’s even coaxed his good friend Melvin Steffington to come. All you have to do is set the date.”
Dot eyed her father. “What do you think, Papa?”
“You’re to make all decisions regarding hostess matters.”
“Then I’d like to set it for Friday.”
“That should give you enough time to invite everyone,” Mrs. Blankenship said.
“Tell me,” Dot’s father said to their visitor, “how does one differentiate among the three Mrs. Blankenships?”
“An excellent question,” that lady said. “We are referred to by our husbands’ first name. Therefore, Glee is referred to as Mrs. Gregory, and my daughter-in-law as Mrs. Jonathan, and I’m known as Mrs. James, my late husband’s name.”
Dot could not see her father addressing the lady by her dead husband’s name. He was probably angling to be able to call her by her Christian name.
Preenie Queenie suddenly stood on all four legs and leapt away from Baby Gregory, who began to cry as he waved an index finger at the fleeing cat. Dot quickly snagged Lover Boy to replace Preenie, but she sat on the other side of
