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Authors: Emily Hendrickson

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BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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Michael had paid little attention to Melly, other than answer questions put to him. He rather ignored her. Katherine suspected he liked the food at the Penn house and enjoyed Katherine’s housewifely talents. Any look he gave Katherine was approval for her direction of the meals and ability to act hostess for any guest in the home, more’s the pity.

Unhappy with the direction of her thoughts, Katherine hurried out to the kitchen to confer with the cook regarding the dinner to be held later in the week. Her father had invited the provost and his wife to dine, and Katherine had a hunch he would include a few other men, informing her later about the change in numbers.

He was not mean, she assured herself, rather absentminded and preoccupied. He needed a good wife to see to his wants. Katherine devoutly hoped that she would not be required to tend to him the rest of his life. She much preferred to look after a husband and children of her own if only she might find the right man. After her kitchen conference, Katherine wandered into the neat parlor.

“Daydreaming again, Katherine?”

Startled, Katherine quickly turned to face the older woman who served as a companion and chaperone of sorts. She was a spindly woman of sharp tongue and sight. Her wispy gray hair peeped from beneath her prim white cap of plain, sturdy muslin. Smoothing down her starched white apron over her serviceable round gown, she advanced upon Katherine.

“Cousin Sophia. You quite surprised me.” Katherine ventured a smile, wondering what mood her father’s distant cousin possessed today. She refused the title of aunt, for she said it made her feel ancient.

“Finished chatting with Amelia Bonner already? Either she gave up easily or you stood up to her better than usual.” Cousin Sophia ventured a thin smile.

“Teddy came home.” Katherine didn’t see fit to explain her conversation with Melly to the older woman. The two simply could not see eye to eye about anything. Katherine could understand this, as Cousin Sophia declared men to be of no interest and Melly thought them divine creatures placed on earth for her amusement.

“And Amelia went into a taking because Theodore refuses to make a fool of himself over her,” Cousin Sophia said dryly.

“I rather suspect the day will come when he will tumble over some pretty thing,” Katherine said by way of reply.

“And where will you be then, I wonder? I know what I shall do. When you are older, I intend to return to my cottage by the sea and grow flowers.” Cousin Sophia had made a point of reminding Katherine about her desires nearly every day. Not that Katherine might forget the matter with such frequent hints.

“I think it is a great piece of nonsense that Papa insists you remain here when you dearly want to return home. As though I cannot manage by myself after all you have taught me,” Katherine graciously replied, trying to defuse what she feared would be another oration on the subject of the thoughtlessness of men in general and her father in particular.

“Did you agree to produce your play? I suspect your brother will not let you rest until you do.”

“I promised to consider it. He wants me to approach Lord Ramsey about supporting our efforts. We need a sponsor, for finances if nothing else.” Katherine longed to ask Cousin Sophia what might prompt Lord Ramsey to say such foolishness as declaring all strays were his to keep and then instructing her to remember it. As if she might put such ridiculous words from her mind. How would she manage to face him tomorrow with Papa along?

“I quite like it, you know. ‘Tis a fine bit of nonsense, although your father would never understand it. I declare, how that man can have fathered you two is more than I can understand. You must take after your mother’s side of the family. Are there any of her relatives living yet?”

“Great-aunt Harriette resides in London. How I would love to visit her, but Papa declares her a wicked old woman and I must not go.”

“Pity,” replied Cousin Sophia. “She might have been the making of you, or at least helped you find a husband. I fear that is the only path for you. You are far too pretty to become an eccentric.”

At this piece of silliness, Katherine grinned and shook her head, giving Cousin Sophia a hug. “I surely hope so.” One was enough in the family, although this thought remained unspoken.

“And I will wager that Great-aunt Harriette is not in the least wicked,” Cousin Sophia concluded before she marched back into the house lest she acquire a bit of sun on her face.

Katherine snapped her fingers at Gabriel and waited until he waddled to her side. “Do you wish to go with us tomorrow? I expect you would like another swim in that pond.” The goose gave her a curious look. “And Cousin Sophia said I am too pretty to be an eccentric. She neglected to mention my habit of talking to you, my friend. The beauty of our conversation is that you never talk back.” Nor, Katherine added silently while she strolled up to the house, did Gabriel utter smug remarks designed to make Katherine feel hoMelly or unwanted. “On the shelf’ was a term that Katherine could do very well without hearing, at least until she felt she warranted such. Which she admitted lurked not all that far off.

Her expression brightened as she discovered Michael Weekes in the drawing room. That he patently sought her father and not her did not particularly bother Katherine. He was here.

“Ah, Miss Penn, good day to you. Might you have any notion where your father could be found? I particularly desire speech with him.”

Katherine shook her head while she studied Michael. Why had she not observed before that his eyes seemed a bit too close together? And his hair was a rather uninspiring brown. The image of Lord Ramsey flashed in her mind: his vibrant good looks, rich brown hair, and very nice gray eyes. Michael possessed a penetrating voice, however. Heretofore Katherine had thought it an excellent thing for a man who often preached. Now, she reflected that a deep, rumbling sort of tone—such as Lord Ramsey used to such effect—could accomplish wonders. It certainly had affected her. She got goose bumps merely thinking about it, not to mention what he had said. That bit of nonsense she pushed to the back of her mind to be reexamined later.

“Papa has not been around much lately. I suspect he is preparing for Sturbridge Fair. A certain amount of paperwork and arranging always demands his time.”

Michael gave her a skeptical look. Did he know what her father did with his days? Katherine truly wondered. Although the college now required that professors actually give lectures on a fairly regular basis, she couldn’t prove it. How tempting to sneak into the lecture hall and listen sometime. If he found her out, there would be the devil to pay, but it might be interesting, even so.

Just then the front door slammed and Teddy popped around the door, giving Katherine a saucy grin. “Hullo, Mr. Weekes, Katherine. Papa’s on his way home, utterly entranced with the prospect of perusing the contents of the Fairfax library. I neglected to find out how you managed such a thing. You ought to do it more often. It put Papa in a jolly good mood.”

Katherine gave Teddy a despairing look, then glanced at Michael to see how he reacted to Teddy’s comments.

Michael smiled, his crooked front tooth coming to Katherine’s notice. She had thought it charming when first observed. “How providential, Miss Penn. Your father will enjoy his visit to Fairfax Hall very much. What a thoughtful daughter to consider him thus.”

Katherine felt a glow of pleasure. How very rare to get any manner of encomium from Michael. This was to be treasured. To be sure, it was not of the same variety as the remark regarding strays, but far more to the point.

The front door slammed again. Cousin Sophia’s voice mingled with that of Julian Penn. Katherine watched as her father entered the room.

A striking man, with blond hair containing no trace of gray, he was not given to fat; indeed, he had the figure of a younger man. But, then, he was only forty-nine. His usually vague blue eyes now sharply focused on his daughter, and he smiled with delight.

“Weekes, has my good Katherine told you the news? I am to have access to the library at Fairfax Hall.” Julian Penn rubbed his hands together with anticipation.

“He did not invite you to take up residence, Papa,” reminded Katherine with affection.

“Most fortunate, indeed, sir,” Weekes replied humbly.

Cousin Sophia had trailed into the room after Julian and now offered a comment. She said with a certain amount of asperity, “If he had this much interest in seeing to Katherine’s future, she’d be wed by now.”

Katherine wished she might disappear. Why, oh, why did Cousin Sophia feel it necessary to harp on this subject? What a blessing that neither of the men seemed to hear her.

Mr. Weekes took advantage of the opportunity to question the doctor of divinity about his problem, something to do with a translation, as far as Katherine could make out, naturally being excluded from the conversation.

“Katherine,” Julian Penn said abruptly, “set a place for Mr. Weekes for dinner. We have much to discuss.” The two men went off down the hall to the one place where Julian might be found when at home, his study.

“You might as well give up on that one, Katherine,” Cousin Sophia said in soft tones. “He will never see you as a woman. All he thinks of when he looks at you is the comformable daughter and what an excellent manager you are for your father, not to mention the good meals to be had here. Although, I wonder if he might believe you to be a way to your father.”

“Well, that is a fine way to talk, I must say.” Katherine gave Cousin Sophia an indignant look, but very much feared her estimation of Michael Weekes quite correct. Katherine resolved to do her best to draw some manner of response from Michael during dinner. Surely once the men had concluded their discussion, Michael’s attention might be captured.

If only Lord Ramsey had that living or position available. Perhaps if Katherine could stir Michael to some sort of interesting reaction to her womanly charms, she might put forth the effort to snare such for him.

Lord Ramsey had seemed to appreciate her attributes, she quite vividly recalled. His knowing grin off into the distance while she had rung out her skirts offered one example. The sotto voce comment about preferring to assist her himself returned as well. While she wasn’t entirely sure about that one, it was close enough.

She sighed with longing for something she did not have, just what she could not say. But the delightful verbal sparring with Lord Ramsey had given her a dissatisfaction with Michael Weekes. She scolded herself for disloyalty and went off to prepare their long-suffering cook for the extra guest, not to mention Julian Penn, for dinner.

Tomorrow Katherine would see Lord Ramsey once again. Surely her memories of him were enhanced by foolish romantic nonsense. Yet somehow a part of her hoped it would not be so.

 

Chapter 3

 

Katherine studied her collection of gowns, briefly wishing she possessed the assortment Melly undoubtedly owned in her wardrobe. She paused in the act of slipping her violet kerseymere over her head to wonder what sort of reaction Melly might get from Michael Weekes. It was positively disgusting how Melly could turn every male, with the definite exception of Teddy, into treacle.

A tap on Katherine’s door was followed by the entrance of Cousin Sophia. The older lady studied Katherine for a moment, then said, “Well, ‘tis not so bad an idea, to attract Mr. Weekes. To be honest, I think you might have greater success with Lord Ramsey.” She joined Katherine by the looking glass to adjust the delicate lace collar that trimmed the modest neckline of the gown.

Katherine gave her a dismayed stare. “You think Mr. Weekes so hopeless, then? Am I addle-brained to imagine a future with the gentleman? For, indeed, I believe him very amiable and gentlemanlike.”

“That shows a want of confidence, my girl. I shouldn’t wonder but what you could do better than Mr. Weekes as a partner. I think you should rather attract his lordship. ‘Tis a good thing Amelia is not included in that invitation tomorrow. She would flirt her way into his life in seconds.”

“Cousin Sophia,” Katherine cautioned in a voice that revealed how often she had heard similar sentiments expressed and had little patience with them.

“Do you not wish Lord Ramsey to support you in the matter of the play you and your brother wish to produce during the fair? You must put your best foot forward, Katherine. Tomorrow you ought to wear that pretty sea-green muslin with the dainty embroidery on the skirt and sleeves. I vow, even your father might notice that.”

Katherine ignored the reference to her father and his lack of interest in his children. She felt he had not actually turned away from them, but rather become absorbed in his studies since the death of their mother.

“I am most interested in the costumes and scenery. However, I suspect Teddy wants to do more than merely produce. He appears torn between the desire to direct and act. Indeed, he muttered something about going off to see Miss Eliza O’Neill to try to persuade her to play my heroine. I shall believe that when I see it.”

“Well, you know that many London actresses and actors happily drive out here to appear during Sturbridge Fair. Nevertheless, you shall require financial backing. Plays are not produced without what Theodore calls blunt. Money is a must, and goodness knows you have sufficient for the necessary, but no more.” Cousin Sophia threaded a violet ribbon through Katherine’s hair, still brushed as Mrs. Cheney had cleverly fixed it.

“Yes,” Katherine murmured in total agreement, then her mind shifted. “I wonder what happened to Mrs. Cheney’s husband. She has been a widow some two years. Although she has put off wearing her blacks. She was dressed in a delicate lavender and wore a cap, albeit a becoming one, of lace. She does not seem old, you know. Although after being around her, I would suppose she is nearer to forty than I first thought. There must be quite a few years between brother and sister.”

“Amelia’s mother informed me that Mrs. Cheney became widowed when her husband died while traveling on the Continent. Something to do with brigands, I believe. And I also learned there are ten years between Lord Ramsey and his sister. She is thirty-nine,” Cousin Sophia concluded in her precise manner.

BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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