The longer he knew her, the lovelier she had become. Her dark beauty stood out from all the insipidly fair maidens in the same way a swan stands out from a flock of mallards.
He longed to pull the pins from her luxurious mane of mahogany hair and comb his fingers through it. He never tired of looking into her near-black eyes. He yearned to draw the smooth curves of her luscious body against him and kiss her senseless.
Yet with every pound of his horse’s hooves, he agonized that he’d never see her again.
I’ll kill Henry Wolf.
* * *
He raced straight to her house. The butler informed him that the Pankhursts had gone to the theatre. Even though Appleton was covered with dust and most definitely not dressed for the Theatre Royal, he hurried there. He then fairly flew up the stairs, going straight to the Appleton box, oblivious to those staring after the ill-dressed interloper.
He froze when he saw her father seated there with Mrs. Blankenship. But no Dot. “Where’s Dot?” he demanded, panic in his voice.
Mr. Pankhurst turned around, a shocked look on his face when he saw how Appleton was dressed. “I’m not quite sure. She received a note at intermission and left. She said she’d be right back.”
“But that was some time ago,” Mrs. Blankenship interjected.
Appleton’s heart felt as it would pound out of his chest. “How long?”
Mr. Pankhurst’s lips pursed. “Perhaps fifteen minutes. I assume she joined some other young people.”
“Did she say who she was meeting?” Appleton asked.
“No.”
“Do you know where she was going?”
“To the foyer.”
Appleton was sick. He hoped to God he was wrong, but he was terrified she was with Henry Wolf at this very moment. “She’s in danger. We must find her.”
Mr. Pankhurst leapt from his seat.
“You look for her in the other boxes,” Appleton barked. “I’m going back downstairs.”
He rushed to a liveried doorman, who was now the sole occupant of the lobby. “Have you seen a young woman. . .” How could he describe Dot? He had no idea what she was wearing. “She has very dark hair, and I suspect she may have left the building at intermission.”
“There was one young woman with . . . I don’t mean no disrespect. . .”
“With a bounteous bosom?” Appleton supplied, hope welling in him.
The other man grinned. “Yes, sir. That’s how I would describe the young lady.”
“Was she alone?”
“It’s hard to say. She looked as if she was looking for someone and was reluctant to leave the building, but another bloke said something to her, and she did leave.” The doorman shrugged. “I got the impression the two were not together.”
“Did he follow her?”
The doorman nodded.
“Can you describe the man?”
“All I remember is his skin was uncommonly white.”
Appleton could have fallen to knees and wept like a woman. But he could not give in to his grief. He had to find Dot.
Before it was too late.
Chapter 21
As Appleton was mounting his horse, Mr. Pankhurst came running from the theatre, Mrs. Blankenship struggling to keep up with him. “What’s going on? Why is my daughter in danger?”
“I’m afraid she’s with the killer.”
“Oh, my God!” her father cried out in an anguished voice.
Mrs. Blankenship shrieked.
“I must go,” Appleton barked. “There’s a chance he’s taken her to an abandoned church this side of the river.”
“I know it,” Mrs. Blankenship said, rushing off to summon the Pankhurst coach.
Appleton couldn’t wait. He sped off. He tore through the dark, quiet streets of Bath, and when he reached the Pulteney Bridge, he turned north and spurred on his mount. If Wolf were planning to abduct Dot, he would have had a vehicle that could accommodate at least two persons. Therefore, it would take him longer than a solo rider on a horse to get to the church—if, indeed, that was his destination.
As Appleton neared the church, his blood froze. For just outside the door, a phaeton drawn by a single horse had been tied to a tree.
Please, God, don’t let me be too late.
He leapt from his horse and raced toward the church’s weathered door, flinging it open. It was as dark as the inside of a coffin. “So help me, Wolf, I’m going to kill you!” he yelled into the blackness as he rushed from the vestibule into the church.
“Dot! Dot, are you unharmed?”
“Be careful, Forrester! He’s got a knife!”
Those were the sweetest words he’d ever heard. He rushed down the nave faintly illuminated from a lantern Wolf had apparently provided for himself. Dot was in one corner, and Wolf stood just before the sacristy, staring at Appleton. Dot had obviously not easily given in to the murderer.
“Get out of here, Dot!” Appleton called. Better that Wolf kill him than his innocent fiancée. Though Appleton rarely carried a weapon of any sort, because he had been traveling today, he had armed himself with a knife. As he stood at the back of the church, he unsheathed it, determined to make Wolf come to him.
Dot scurried around the church’s perimeter until she reached him. But she was making no effort to leave. “Go on,” he urged her.
She sniffed. Several times. “I can’t leave you.” Sniff. Sniff. “I couldn’t live without you.”
“Nor could I without you.”
She burst into tears.
Wolf crept down the nave like a tiger on soft paws.
“Please, Dot, for me. You must leave.” If Wolf killed him, he’d turn immediately on Dot.
She inched toward the door, and Appleton almost went limp from relief. But he must be on his guard.
Though nothing in his life had prepared Appleton for hand-to-hand knife fighting, he would stay there and face this vile murderer. When they were lads he’d always had the advantage.
With each step closer the murderer came, the faster Appleton’s heart beat. He tried to stay in the darkness that shrouded the rear wall. If he moved toward Wolf, the lantern’s light would make him an easier
