A Christmas In Bath (3 page)

He had never failed to dance with her when he attended the Assembly Rooms these past four years, so why was it now that when their hands touched, he experienced an unfamiliar jolt to his insides?

After the dance, he offered to procure tea for her. When he returned to the crowded, noisy ballroom mere minutes later, she was dancing with Appleton. Not just a country dance like she had just favored him with, but she and Appleton were waltzing!

Never before had Appleton danced with Miss Arbuckle. He had always preferred women who were. . . less respectable.

Had it been any other man—as in, married man—Jonathan would not have objected in the least, but Appleton was a notorious rake. Look at the way his hand tried to cradle her to him! And Jonathan was certain Appleton was staring at Miss Arbuckle’s breasts.

He was seized with a strong desire to send his fist crashing into Appleton’s lecherous face. As he stood there seething with anger toward his brother's old friend, it suddenly became clear to Jonathan that he would have to serve as protector to poor Miss Arbuckle. What did a shy bluestocking like she know of rakes like Appleton? She might only see that the fellow was most comfortably fixed, and it was no secret that Miss Arbuckle was not at all well fixed.

Why, she might look at Appleton as a prize. Nothing could be further from the truth! Truth be told, Appleton was a profligate of the first order. Unless things had dramatically changed since Jonathan had last been in Bath, Appleton kept one Mrs. Vale in a
love
nest on Water Street.

And the man's interests were not in the least compatible with Miss Arbuckle's, either. His knowledge was so lacking, he would think Thomas Paine a sickly man named Thomas. Appleton  cared only for gaming, race meetings, and lascivious ladies of the night.

It fairly sickened Jonathan to contemplate an alliance between sweet Miss Arbuckle and that. . . that rake. A pity she no longer dressed in the modest clothing he was accustomed to seeing her wearing. Yes, there was nothing for it but for Jonathan to watch out for her best interests. After all, she had neither father nor brother.

When Appleton walked her back to Jonathan at the end of the set, Jonathan snapped at her. "Your tea's cold."

She took it. "Thank you, Mr. Blankenship, I rather like cold tea."

He nodded, then directed his attention at Appleton. "Where is your partner in revelry tonight?"

Appleton looked down his nose at Jonathan (who, regrettably, was considerably shorter than Appleton). "To whom could you be referring?"

"Sir Elvin." Even though Jonathan had been close friends with Sir Elvin's twin these many years, it still seemed incredible to him that the two men were from the same womb for serious-minded Melvin was the antithesis of his brother.

"He said he'd be here."

"And his brother?"  Jonathan inquired.

Appleton's eye moved to the door. "Here comes Melvin. Catherine Steffington looks lovely tonight, even though her time draws near. I never thought old Melvin had so good an eye for beautiful women." Then his gaze dropped to Miss Arbuckle's bodice. "Speaking of which, does not Miss Arbuckle look fetching tonight?"

Jonathan very nearly stormed to the cloak room in order to procure Miss Arbuckle's cloak to cover her from Appleton's greedy gawk. He stepped right in front of Appleton in order to block the lecher's view of Miss Arbuckle's. . .gulp,
breasts
.  "I liked her the way she used to look!" Jonathan snapped.

Appleton chuckled, then stuck his head over Jonathan's shoulder and peered at the lady. "I do thank you, Miss Arbuckle, for standing up with me."

"The honor was mine, Mr. Appleton," she said.

"I say, Miss Arbuckle," Jonathan said after Appleton left them, "I would be gratified if you would stand up with me again."

He had not noticed that his sister-in-law had strolled up to them. "Now see here, Jonathan, you cannot monopolize Miss Arbuckle. You must give the other men the opportunity to dance with her."

Why was it that Glee was becoming a thorn in his side? Whenever he would be about to have dear Miss Arbuckle to himself, Glee would interfere.

Miss Arbuckle's gaze shifted from him to Glee. She was prevented from answering when Melvin and his bride joined them. "I say, Blankenship," Melvin said to Jonathan, "it's devilishly good to see you back in Bath. Pray, do me the goodness of joining me in the Octagon so I can discuss your latest essay with you."

Jonathan tossed a morose look at Miss Arbuckle, then nodded to his friend. What the devil was coming over him? He had always excessively enjoyed discussing his essays with Melvin Steffington, but now he found himself wishing to stay by Miss Arbuckle's side to keep those profligates from sullying her sweetness.

* * *

For the first time in her life, to Miss Arbuckle's complete astonishment, she was not a wallflower. In the past, only the two Blankenship brothers had spared her from sitting out every single dance. And, when Glee's brother was in town, Lord Sedgewick could be depended upon to favor her with a dance. She suspected Glee's gallant husband was happy indeed that he would not have to stand up with her this night.

When the final waltz of the night was struck up, and Jonathan Blankenship sought her for his partner, she came to realize she had never enjoyed an assembly more. She felt rather like a princess because of the attentions she had drawn.

What a pity it was that the only man whose opinion she courted did not think her hair becoming.

She knew she would not be able to persist with her vastly improved appearance. It was not as if she could have Glee's maid dress her hair every day, and she could no more arrange her own hair with such artistry than she could read a book without her spectacles. She had to own that despite feeling like a princess, she had been far more comfortable in her familiar old clothes that did not make her feel as if she were unclothed.

"It seems you were a great success tonight," Mr. Blankenship said to her, "though I daresay none of your partners were up to snuff."

"What do you mean up to snuff? I thought they were all delightful." Particularly her present partner.

"I mean marriageable."

"Oh. I did not realize. Perhaps I shall need your counsel." Glee had suggested she say that to him.

"Indeed you do. Since you have neither father nor brother, I think it's best you allow me guide you. After all, I am older than you, and I've been more in the world than have you, my dear Miss Arbuckle."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course. You are, after all, one of my dearest friends."

She sighed. "That is the worst thing about becoming someone's wife. I shan't be able to continue our friendship, Mr. Blankenship, and I do value it excessively." Glee had encouraged her to say that too.

He squeezed at her waist, where his hand rested, and her heartbeat drummed madly. He had never done that a single time in the last four years. "I don't mind telling you, I shouldn't like to lose your friendship either."

"Perhaps my husband won't mind. It's not as if you think of me as a man thinks of a woman." That, too, had been Glee's suggestion.

"I beg that you give me credit for knowing the difference between a man and a woman."

"I don't mean to imply that you don't."

"I would hope you don't confuse me with any of your female friends."

She paused. "No, I don't believe I have ever taken you for one of my female friends."

In the carriage ride home after the assembly, he said, "What a difference three months can make. The last time I was in Bath the weather easily permitted us to walk to and from the assemblies, and now it's so beastly cold I am happy for my brother's carriage."

Then he directed his attention at Glee. "Would you be adverse to me borrowing the coach tomorrow to take Miss Arbuckle for a spin through Sydney Gardens?"

"I have always told you that when you're in Bath you are to treat our house and our carriage as if they're yours, but I daresay Miss Arbuckle's likely made plans for tomorrow. You must have noticed how sought after she's become."

She knew Glee would not approve, but Miss Arbuckle was far too eager to be with Mr. Blankenship. "Actually, I don't have plans. I should love to go for a drive with you tomorrow."

The following morning Glee, along with her sister Felicity, and Melvin Steffington's bride, the former Catherine Bexley, paid a morning call upon Mary Arbuckle. Other young ladies (well, perhaps not so young) might have been embarrassed to have the daughters of a viscount calling at their modest homes, but because of Miss Arbuckle's long association with the sisters, she knew they judged friends not on possessions but on  amiability.

They had often surprised her with a visit—to Mrs. Arbuckle's delight. Though rarely in Society, Mary’s mother was enough of an eager follower of Society to be humbled and pleased over such a connection to the
nobility
.

Mary greeted the visitors in the small drawing room at the front of their skinny little house. The visitors sat one after another on a faded chintz sofa, and Mary faced them in an arm chair a bit closer to the fire.

"As much as I adore your mother," Glee began, "I wanted a private word with you." Her gaze flicked to Felicity and Catherine. "They don't count. They know everything."

The sisters were Mary's lifelong friends, but she was not as well acquainted with Catherine, who was a bit older and closer to Felicity. How mortified Miss Arbuckle was to think Catherine knew she fancied herself in love with Jonathan Blankenship! The heat suffusing her cheeks, Miss Arbuckle's gaze darted straight to Catherine. "Everything?"

Catherine nodded meekly. "Your affection for Jonathan Blankenship very much reminds me of how I felt about Airy—before he fell in love with me."
Airy
was Catherine's own name for Melvin, owing to her calling her scholar husband
Aristotle
.

Miss Arbuckle's embarrassment faded, and her attention perked. Jonathan Blankenship
was
very much like Melvin Steffington, in that neither of them had been possessed of a womanizing bent—unlike the men's friends—all of whom had set up women as mistresses at one time or another. Well, all except for Felicity's husband, who never wanted any woman save Felicity. Unlike the scholarly pursuits that absorbed Jonathan's and Melvin's interests, though, Thomas Moreland directed his attentions to the making of a fortune—a talent for which he was most adept.

Before Miss Arbuckle could comment, Glee continued on. "That's why I have brought my dear Mrs. Steffington here today. We must find out what means she used to encourage a declaration from Melvin."

Were any other woman to refer to men by their Christian names, they would meet with censure. But not Glee Blankenship. Her lively personality won approval even from Society’s strictest critics.

Catherine's shoulders shrugged. "I don't think I was aware of doing anything in particular. I do believe I was the first to fall in love, but I never dreamed I would be able to capture his heart. You know how that is, Miss Arbuckle, with serious-minded men like Jonathan and Airy."

"Indeed I do. It's my belief that Jonathan Blankenship has never been interested in those of the female gender—in the same way most other young men are."

"Exactly what I thought about Airy! And later I learned I was right. I was his first."

All this talk of love and young men's
other
interests sent Miss Arbuckle's thoughts off in a direction in which they had seldom travelled. She found herself wondering if Catherine meant she was the first woman Melvin (Airy) had ever loved, or was she referring to being the first woman he had ever . . . gulp, bedded.

"So, did you try to make him jealous?" Miss Arbuckle asked.

Catherine did not reply for a moment, then Mary understood why. She was trying not to offend the plain spinster. For Catherine, with her flaxen hair and lovely face and figure, already had other suitors when she began her association with Melvin. Unlike Mary, who had never had a single suitor.

Catherine finally shook her head. "Our relationship began upon a shared goal. I begged him to use his scholarly skills to help find the nearly priceless Chaucer that was stolen from me. That shared goal forced us to spend a great deal of time together." The lady sighed. "Soon I was deeply in love him."

Felicity's brows plunged. "Can you perhaps pinpoint a certain occurrence that pushed him from friend to lover?"

Catherine thought on this for a moment. "I suppose it was the kiss."

"You kissed him?" a shocked Miss Arbuckle asked.

A slow smile curled on Catherine's contented face. "He kissed me, actually. Then, he apologized profusely—when all I really wanted was more kisses."

Miss Arbuckle sighed. If only she were pretty like Catherine Steffington. "I have been alone with Mr. Blankenship any number of times these past four years, and he's never had the urge to kiss me. I don't believe men like Jonathan Blankenship are interested in kissing."

Ten months ago Miss Arbuckle would have said the same thing about Melvin Steffington.

Felicity's amused gaze whisked to her sister, and the two women burst out laughing.

"Pray, what is so funny?" Miss Arbuckle asked.

Felicity could not wipe the smile from her face. "The man has not been created who is disinterested in kissing."

Glee nodded her assent.

Miss Arbuckle's gaze swept to Catherine, who also nodded. "It's true, Miss Arbuckle, even for men like my Airy and your Jonathan."

Your Jonathan
. Oh, how Miss Arbuckle liked the sound of that! (Though the idea of Melvin Steffington kissing was most vexing.) Miss Arbuckle eyed Catherine's belly and saw the proof of their ardor in the babe she was carrying.

Glee put her hands to her hips and directed a mock glare at Mary. "You somewhat foiled my plan last night when you readily agreed to allow Jonathan to take you to the park this afternoon."

"But it's been nearly four months since I last saw him," Mary defended. "I have been saving up so many things I've been wanting to talk to him about. Why, he's had two different essays—very fine ones—published over the past two months. I'm ever so anxious to discuss these with him."

"I think she's right, Glee," Catherine said. "Allow her to be alone with him. Perhaps he shall be overcome with the desire to steal a kiss from her, and we know what that can lead to."

"Marriage!" Felicity's blue eyes brightened.

Glee continued to pout. "My plan was to throw up encumbrances to their being together so that when they finally did. . ." Her face softened, and she sighed. "He would barely be able to control his burgeoning desire for her!"

The three married ladies all giggled.

Miss Arbuckle turned crimson.

"Do you know," Glee continued, "I cajoled Appleton to dance attendance upon Miss Arbuckle last night—which he did to please me—but at the end of the night he confided in me that he thought she was
bang up to scratch
."

"After you left the assembly rooms," Catherine added, “Mr. Appleton told Melvin he just might be calling upon Miss Arbuckle."

"How delightful!" Glee's eyes sparked with mirth.

But Mary did not want Appleton calling upon her. She wanted only Mr. Blankenship.

"By the way, Miss Arbuckle," Glee said, "my maid will be here shortly. I'm sending her along to assist with your hair so you'll dazzle my brother-in-law this afternoon."

* * *

What the devil was the matter with him, Jonathan wondered as he rode in his brother’s coach to Miss Arbuckle’s house. He'd had the opportunity to bring up the subject of Mama paying a Christmas visit at Gregory's, but his courage had failed him.

There was less than a week remaining before Christmas, and if Gregory and Glee would consent to have Mama, she would need to leave Sutton Manor soon. Especially since the roads were so bloody icy.

Perhaps he should approach Glee first. The difficulty there was that Glee—normally  possessed of a most obliging nature—got her hackles all bristly whenever Mama was mentioned. It was times like that Glee seemed less a wife and more a protective mother. More than once she had told Jonathan that she thought his mother's coolness toward Gregory was intolerable.

Now that Jonathan was a grown man, he agreed. He bitterly regretted that he had allowed his mother to show her preference for him—her own son—over his popular elder brother, whom everyone else wildly preferred.

When the coach stopped in front of Miss Arbuckle's house, Jonathan wondered what she would be wearing today. Surely she would not persist in exposing her. . . her delicate skin to such harsh winter elements. It was so beastly cold today that a light snow was falling.

Theirs would likely be the only coach in the gardens today. After all, no flowers were in bloom. The trees had shed their green. As he thought about it, he realized that when he had requested she go to Sydney Gardens with him, he had been recalling his last visit to Bath. Then, the weather was perfection, permitting him and Miss Arbuckle to walk there.

That day the two of them had spent at Sydney Gardens had stayed vivid in his memories  these months of their separation. He'd never had a friend to whom he could speak so freely of all that he read, all his beliefs and desires. In his limited experience with the opposite gender, he believed women the inferior sex, as far as intelligence.

But Miss Arbuckle refuted that belief. In every way, save her unfamiliarity with Greek and Latin, she was his intellectual equal.

She most certainly was not the sort of woman who went about making herself appear desirable. Desirable in the way Appleton found women desirable!

Good lord, what will I do if she gets herself married?
He would lose the best friend he ever had. Why could she not continue wearing her high-necked dresses and spectacles? It was as if she were misrepresenting herself to a future husband!

His knowledge of Miss Arbuckle assured him that she would never intentionally misrepresent herself. This had to be Glee's doing!

He braved the cold, hissing winds to rap upon the Arbuckle's peeling front door. Normally, he was admitted by a thin, stern housekeeper, but today Miss Arbuckle herself opened the door. "I didn't want you having to stand in the cold," she said, smiling broadly upon him.

His gaze went first to the cluster of curls artfully framing her face—a face without spectacles! Then his gaze dropped to that creamy expanse of skin. "I cannot be responsible if you should take your death of cold in that dress."

"I would never hold you responsible, Mr. Blankenship." She gathered up a woolen spencer and handed it to him. "Will you assist me, please?"

He took the little piece of frippery that would cover her shoulders, though it would not provide much warmth. As he lay it upon those smooth ivory shoulders, his heartbeat raced. "There you go."

She slowly turned and favored him with a smile, then reached down and lifted her faded red cloak. "And this, too, please."

Now here was a piece of her clothing he recognized. And with great fondness, too. He placed it upon her shoulders, tied it below her chin, and found that his heartbeat was racing again. A sense of well-being filled him as he became aware of the subtle smell of roses. Where in the devil did roses come from in the dead of winter?

Then, to his dismay, his gaze alighted on not one but two bouquets (neither of which happened to be roses) upon the sideboard. Good lord, did she have
two
suitors?

"Just as soon as I put on my gloves, I shall be ready to go," said she.

Once she was bundled up for warmth—to his great satisfaction—he proffered his arm and led her to the coach. He was not accustomed to offering Miss Arbuckle his arm. It was the demmed hair and revealing clothing that made him much too aware of her gender. Why could she not be content to be his good friend? Why must she persist in acting like a woman? Miss Arbuckle never before acted like other members of her sex.

The difference between her and other women was what accounted for his great friendship with her.

In the coach, she sat opposite him—as she normally did when it was just the two of them, which only occurred during the coldest months of the year. He would not allow the coachman to start until Jonathan was assured that he had covered Miss Arbuckle in the rug's warmth. "Warm enough?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you."

Only then did they proceed.

"I apologize that it's not the kind of day one visits Sydney Gardens." Was it the mention of gardens that made him smell roses again?

"You mustn't apologize. It's not your fault it's so cold."

He gave a little laugh. "I suppose I was merely eager for an opportunity to be alone with you. I have missed our discussions whilst I've been at Sutton Manor."

"I have too. In fact, I've been ever so anxious to discuss with you that very fine essay you wrote against slavery."

He shrugged. "I daresay there's little need to keep lambasting such a brutal practice—at least here in England."

"It is our good fortune that so many of our countrymen are enlightened in their opposition to it."

"I did receive a great many positive comments about the anti-slavery essay." He drew his breath. "It was rather the opposite with my essay about labor unification."