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Authors: Emily Hendrickson

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BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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Katherine guided the donkey along Cheapside to where the linen drapers and silk men were set up. They were to see about fabric for new curtains for the sitting room. Katherine wished to get the ordinary things out of the way before she went to the theater booth to, it was to be hoped, watch the dress rehearsal. From there, once Cousin Sophia was satisfied with a subdued print of classical design and sturdy weave, she went along Garlic Row.

“Look, there is a milliner I’ve not seen before, and a perfumer, too. I should like a bottle of pretty scent.”

“And so you shall have it, too,” Cousin Sophia declared. Again they paused while Katherine selected a compound of floral scents that reminded her of a garden in midsummer. Roses and lilacs with a hint of spice teased her nose, and she hoped the scent would entice a gentleman. Not that she’d confess to any particular gentleman, mind you.

“After we put this cart behind the theater, I believe I shall stroll along Booksellers’ Row,” Cousin Sophia declared. “I think it would be nice to find some way to pass the time besides my embroidery. That can become tedious. Especially acanthus leaves,” she concluded in an undertone. “I’ve not read
Cecilia
and perhaps Miss Edgeworth’s latest.”

“Do not forget Miss Austen. Find me a book of plays. I should like a good copy of Garrick’s
Bon Ton
. A farce is what I need at the moment, I believe. Not Reynolds. I found Lady Melmouth a trifle wearing in her preaching in
Folly as It Flies
, for all it’s touted as a comedy. I certainly don’t need another melodrama, as amusing as I find them. Mrs. Radcliffe may keep them to herself.”

“She has done well, however. At least ten of her books have been dramatized,” reminded Cousin Sophia as Katherine turned over the reins of the donkey to the man from Lord Ramsey’s estate who was around to serve as a jack-of-all-trades for them.

Katherine watched her aunt wend her way through the spaces between the booths on her way to Booksellers’ Row, then turned to enter the theater by the side door. As Katherine crossed the cornfield, stepping daintily over the remains of the harvest, she noticed that the Norwich Company had indeed arrived. Their establishment looked plush at first glance. Only a closer inspection revealed the paint was thin and the construction hasty. The town workers had done a poor job of it, it seemed. She was fortunate that Lord Ramsey had his own carpenters.

How proud she was of the Ramsey theater. Tomorrow the play opened and already broadsides of the playbill were being distributed among the fair-goers. In addition to the play she had written, there was to be a short, rather witty farce called
Raising the Wind
. Katherine enjoyed the silly thing, although having a hero outwit both his rival and the heroine’s father seemed a bit farfetched to her. But the audiences loved it, and that is what mattered.

Inside the theater all was a-bustle. She soon learned what had been going on.

“The dress rehearsal for the farce went extremely well, Katherine,” Teddy proclaimed. “Everyone knew the parts perfectly, and the costumes from Fairfax Hall were good. Really good.” He rubbed his hands together, gave her a satisfied smile that reminded Katherine of Cousin Sophia’s, then he was off. Over his shoulder he added, “After we take a break, we shall begin your play.”

Katherine wondered if all playwrights felt as useless as she did right now at this point. She had written, cast, and costumed the production. Teddy had overseen the final rehearsals, although Katherine had worked with Mr. Denham.

“Cousin Sidney,” she cried with less than pleasure. “I am that surprised to see you here at this hour of the day. Do not tell me you are forsaking the pleasures of the fair to watch the dreary business of a rehearsal.”

“Anything you do could never be termed dreary, cousin,” he replied with a faint bow in her direction while darting a glance at the comely young girl who acted the maid in Katherine’s play.

A lift of her brow revealed what Katherine thought of this heavy-handed gallantry. “I see.” And she thought she did. He was on the lookout for a dalliance. He’d not have it with one of the town girls. “Do not look that direction, Sidney,” she warned. “Her father is a local fighter, famed for the clever use of his fists. Best try for one of the Norwich group, if you are in line for a bit of fun.”

“Why, Katherine,” he teased, returning his attention fully to her, “what a remark for a professor’s daughter to make.”

“But, then,” she returned quickly, “I am not just any daughter.” She sought to quell the unease she felt when he was about. The knowledge he wanted to wed her did not please. Perhaps it was because she would far rather have it another who sought her hand. A slight difference of opinion between two of the players caught her ear. She nodded at Sidney, dismissing him abruptly from her mind as she marched across the room to confront the problem.

Sidney gave her a resentful stare, then left the theater booth to find Lewis Rankin.

After settling the dispute, she turned, to find Ramsey approaching her. She clasped her hands to stop a sudden tendency to tremble.

“Good news, Kate. Nearly all the boxes are booked for the first performance. Since the Norwich Company allows for booking the same day, I thought we’d extend it to the day before.

It seems to be a successful idea.” He showed her the fistful of receipts with a happy glow on his handsome face.

So delighted was she that she neglected to admonish him for the use of that dratted name. “What would we do without you?” she blurted out impulsively. “It was a good thing when Teddy convinced me that we ought to seek your assistance. You are far more practical than either of us.” That had astonished her, that he should prove to be so efficient and businesslike in the planning of the production. But, then, she reflected, he undoubtedly had found out quite a bit if he’d frequented the green rooms while in London. Perhaps that had contributed to his frivolity as well.

As a compliment, it lacked a certain something, Philip decided ruefully. Would he ever understand Katherine? He felt sure she had no interest in her Cousin Sidney; he’d seen the way she looked at the smarmy fellow. And as for Mr. Weekes, well, she might have entertained notions about him once, but Philip doubted she did any longer. Witness now she had shrugged off Miss Bonner’s determined flirting. He was grateful to Miss Bonner. She had proved most helpful.

By the time the rehearsal reached midpoint Katherine was a frazzled bundle of nerves. Someone brought her a sandwich and she simply could not eat it. Glancing down, she saw a stray cat had entered the building. She stooped down to offer the animal the food her stomach refused.

“Katherine, what about this costume for the final act? Miss O’Neill wants some changes,” Teddy called from the front.

Wondering if dear Miss O’Neill was pampered at every turn when with the Norwich Company, Katherine hurried off to work out some compromise. After listening to the objection, then to the intelligent suggestion the actress offered, Katherine was of the opinion that Miss O’Neill earned every penny of her high fee.

“She is right, you know,” Katherine said to Lord Ramsey when he strolled up to her side. “The costume will be more effective this way. The brocade shawl will reveal, then conceal, thus teasing the audience.”

“You seem to understand teasing well, Kate.”

“I would that you not call me that.”

“But it fits you so well,” he responded, his voice that meltingly warm tone again. Katherine shivered and turned from his side with reluctance.

She shrugged, aware that he would do as he pleased regardless of what she said in the matter. And, in a way, she was inwardly pleased that he wished to bestow a personal, familiar name on her that only he dare use. And what did he mean about her teasing him? She was anything but a tease. She left that sort of thing to girls like Melly.

From that point the rehearsal proceeded perfectly. When they were done, some of the actors disbursed to their lodgings while others went strolling about the fair, trying out the treats offered.

Once the door finally closed after the last of them, Katherine sagged down upon a crude chair, relief that the final hurdle was over.

“Kate, there’s trouble afoot.”

Alarmed, Katherine struggled to sit up properly, turning to face Lord Ramsey. She hoped that the deep affection she felt for him wasn’t revealed on her face, for him, or anyone else about, to read. She thought it must be, for she felt it so keenly.

Lord Ramsey wasn’t looking at Kate. Rather, he had a cat cradled on a piece of newspaper before him. A very still cat.

“What happened?” Katherine asked, glad the cast had gone, for they were such a superstitious lot.

“It is dead. And from all appearances, poisoned.”

“Poisoned! Are you sure? It might have been hit by a carriage or something."

“Did I not see you feeding it a sandwich earlier?” He walked over to the door to place the dead cat outside, intending to study the animal later before burying it in the field.

“Well, yes,” she confessed. “My nerves were in such a state, I could not think of putting anything in my stomach. You do not think. . . No, you cannot believe it was intended for me. It must have merely been a bad bit of chicken. You know how it can be if it is not handled carefully. I would not be the first to get a stomachache from spoiled fowl.”

Philip stayed in the shadows, unwilling for Katherine to see the worry he felt. Unless he missed his guess, someone was trying to kill Katherine. First there had been the weight that ought not have fallen. Now a dead cat that ought to still be alive, had it not consumed Katherine’s chicken sandwich. But who could it be? Who wanted her dead?

A sick feeling spread through him as he tried to think. Someone connected to the Norwich Company, perhaps? Maybe their advance man? It was a thought that would bear consideration. He would rack his brain tonight to see if there might be another who could want her dead.

“I would like you to come out to the hall for dinner this evening. There are a few things we need to discuss.”

“And what might they be? Not that I do not appreciate your invitation.”

The door opened and Cousin Sophia entered in great agitation. “Katherine, Lord Ramsey, there is a dead cat just outside the door. It seems most carefully placed there. How curious.”

“Lord Ramsey believes someone wishes me dead, for it ate the sandwich intended for me,” Katherine replied with what she hoped was composure.

"I see."

“I want Katherine at the hall this evening.”

“Of course. I should think it would be best if she went there directly from here, with no one seeing her or the wiser.” Cousin Sophia studied her calm-faced niece. “I can arrange for a change of clothing to be sent out.”

Katherine looked at them, then rose and walked to the door. “We may as well go now.”

Philip followed the two women out of the theater, casting shrewd looks about him to discover if there was someone lurking about waiting to see if a hue and cry was raised. Aside from the people he had observed the past days, there was no face that ought not be there.

Katherine was not going to die if he could help it. He would do anything necessary. Anything.

 

Chapter 13

 

Katherine remained silent on the drive to Fairfax Hall. She thought all the fuss utterly ridiculous. Lord Ramsey had well and truly gone beyond the acceptable as far as she was concerned. Never mind that she was past praying for when it came to her heart. He ought to be more sensible. But she had perceived him as a frivolous man from the very beginning when he had laughed at her while she dripped pond water. Yet those laughing eyes entranced her.

“How are you going to keep this from my father?” she wondered aloud. They had been successful to this point. She suspected Papa would be angry. Whether he would put a halt to the production of the play was another matter.

“Gisela will think of something. I am convinced, you know. I rather think you believe the threat against you is all a hum.” He glanced at her stoic face, then returned his attention to the road ahead. They were approaching the town and there were numerous carriages abroad, mostly strangers here for the fair.

“Well, and it seems nonsense to me,” she retorted, albeit with good temper.

The carriage clipped along at a goodly pace. They quickly passed through the town, fortunately seeing no one they knew, for Lord Ramsey took a less-frequented back road. Once over the Silver Street Bridge, Katherine relaxed.

She brushed off her gown, dusty from her time in the theater. An army of maids would have their hands full keeping that place tidy. “I hope Cousin Sophia does not forget to send out my change of clothes. Why can I not go home? I do not understand the haste of all this.”

Philip really couldn’t tell her, for he wasn’t sure himself. He only knew that he felt Katherine to be in danger, and he wanted her close to him so he might protect her. But he couldn’t reveal the particulars regarding that at the moment. He first wished to make sure that Mr. Weekes and Cousin Sidney were definitely past history where Katherine was concerned.

“When we get to the house, you will go up with Mrs. Moore and take a pleasant bath. Then you can rest before dinner. I shall endeavor to see that your path does not cross your father’s. He usually goes home of an evening. I’ll see to it that Gisela knows that he is not to remain tonight.”

“This is nonsense,” sputtered Katherine. Actually, it was anything but. Why, when she had determined that she would keep aloof from his lordship as much as possible, was he bent upon taking her under his wing?

“Not to worry. I shall see to everything.”

Katherine turned her head to study him for a moment, peeking at him from beneath the brim of her neat chip-straw bonnet. He was daft. She also tried to tell herself that he was an odious, masterful, aristocratic gentleman beyond her touch, much too frivolous in his view of life, but that did not stop her heart from fluttering with hope.

They were met by Hector at the house, the dog gamboling about his master with unrestrained joy. Katherine found herself inspected and approved, apparently, for he gave her a doggie grin of bared teeth and a polite woof.

BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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