He drew a deep breath. “There’s one more matter about which I must speak to you.”
She turned to face him, a quizzing look on her sweet face.
“This is difficult for me to say. You see, I’ve . . . had a financial setback and find that I must marry an heiress.”
Her brows lowered. “You mean you cannot marry for love?”
He tossed his head aside. “What do I care for love? Love is for poets—and women!” He had always hoped he might one day fall in love in the same way as had his friends—friends like Blanks with his Glee. And even Melvin and Catherine. Melvin had never noticed women—until he’d fallen in love with the pretty young widow.
Appleton recalled George, Lord Sedgewick, had not married Sally Spencer for love, but they soon fell quite desperately in love with each other. And the Morelands! Thomas and Felicity adored each other. Even that confirmed bachelor Jonathan Blankenship was now happily married to that bookish Mary Arbuckle, to whom he was so well suited, and the two acted perfectly silly toward each other.
Appleton had stayed a bachelor all these years because he was waiting for a love match like his friends had found.
But a love match was not going to be in his future. He would still have Mrs. Pratt to warm his bed. It wasn’t love, but she met certain needs.
“You simply must marry for love!”
His sister would have to look at the distressing situation like a female. “I am now the head of the house, and my responsibilities must come first.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Forrester Timothy Appleton, have you lost your money gambling?”
He gave her a haughty look. “I may have lost a portion, but surely you don’t take me for one who would completely lose his head . . .”
“Well, I will own, you’ve always been one for moderation.”
He coughed. “It’s time I marry. After all, I’m thirty. All of my friends, save one, are wed. It’s time. And I choose to marry a woman with a fortune.”
“But we don’t know any heiresses.”
“Actually, Annie. . .” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Miss Pankhurst is an heiress. Her father’s said to be vastly wealthy.”
Her eyes rounded. “Forrester Timothy Appleton! Do you mean you knew all along who the lady was? That all your kindness to her was because she’s an heiress? And I thought you were being such a dear to a sweet, plain girl. I was inordinately proud of you!”
He had the decency to feel beastly ashamed. “I didn’t know who she was when I saved that bloody cat of hers from almost certain death—with no regard for my own well-being, I might add.”
“Then how did you know who she was?”
He lowered his voice to a whisper again. “I had heard that an heiress had recently arrived in Bath who just happened to be plain and who walked about with cats. I didn’t have to possess the brains of Melvin Steffington to make the deduction.”
His sister gave him a hostile look. “I won’t have you using that poor girl. Or breaking her heart. From the way you treated her today, I—who know you well—thought you were attracted to her. So you can imagine how flattered she is by your attentions. You told her she was delightfully charming! You said she was like a breath of country air. You even agreed with her admittedly prejudiced father when he said she was pretty! I think you’re being appallingly wicked.”
“I thought I was kind to her. Gave up my entire afternoon. Didn’t even object to escorting what had to be the plainest maiden in all of Bath around the Pump Room for all to see. My reputation as a connoisseur of beauty is destroyed.” He frowned. “I even became a complete laughingstock chasing that blasted cat of hers around the Pump Room!”
“You’re horrid, and I’m ashamed of you.” Annie sprang from the sofa and stormed from the chamber.
* * *
While Digby assisted him into his meticulously fitted and spotless black jacket for the evening’s assembly, tied his cravat, and helped him into silken stockings, Appleton felt wretched. Instead of enlisting Annie’s help to win Miss Pankhurst’s affections, he’d angered his sister and shamed himself.
Still, he couldn’t tell Annie he was doing it for her and their sisters. If it were just him, he could have let the house in Bath go and eked by on the modest income from their small estate in Shropshire. But he had to provide for his sisters. Hefty dowries would be required for them to attract husbands suitable to their station. And the dresses and hats and gloves and all the finery three young ladies of refined taste needed! He had no choice but to marry an heiress.
Despite that cat business, Miss Pankhurst, thankfully, was not like one in her dotage. She seemed to be possessed of good sense, and he would vow that with a proper wardrobe—which her wealthy father had already promised—she would be tolerably handsome.
Fully dressed now, he stood at the foot of the stairs awaiting his sister and Miss Pankhurst when the door to Annie’s chamber opened. Annie came out first. She wore a rose-coloured gown and looked her usual lovely self. Appleton sighed. A pity. That damned Wolf would be sure to be attracted to her.
Then Miss Pankhurst came into view, and Appleton almost lost his breath.
Chapter 3
Had one of the Royal Princesses begun to glide down his modest stairway, Appleton could not have been more astonished. This vision in white coming toward him looked nothing like the dowdy Miss Pankhurst with whom he’d spent the better part of the day. Why had he not been aware of the rich deep, lustrous brown of her hair? It now swept back from her face in a most elegant fashion. Her face, too, looked very fine. Perhaps not beautiful,
