Read A Christmas In Bath for Free Online

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