The Roguish Miss Penn (11 page)

“Record-keeping is a necessary thing, I expect. Or do you work on a history of the Fairfax family, my lord?” Katherine chose to meet Lord Ramsey’s gaze at this point. While that warm glow lingered, there was no sign of any other emotion she could identify. Not that there wasn’t something lurking in those eyes, for they had a decidedly naughty twinkle in them that she found improper while at the same moment wished to explore. Such contradictory feelings prompted her to abruptly seat herself on the chair by the fire.

The gentlemen remained blessedly silent about their brief encounter. For this, Katherine decided she could almost forgive him that wicked little gleam in those beautiful gray eyes of his. It was uncomfortable to realize that he had seen more of her than any man alive. She could not help but wonder which way his feelings might lean as a result and how it would affect his support.

“I thought it might be interesting to do a history, for one has not been attempted before. Fortunately there are excellent records kept here for me to use."

“Tiresome work, at least,” interposed Mrs. Cheney.

“It has its moments,” Lord Ramsey replied quietly.

Had not Katherine raised her eyes at that minute, she would have missed that curve of his lips, a reminiscent curve that coupled with the gleam in his eyes to quite unsettle her.

How utterly odious of the man to make her feel guilty for what was, after all, quite innocent. She resolved to turn her mind to higher things and gave her attention to Mrs. Cheney.

“I am sorry that the trip has proven hazardous to your health, dear Katherine. But I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am that you came.”

“I, as well,” Lord Ramsey added, smiling at his sister.

When Katherine was unable to prevent herself from darting a glance at him, she found a look of sincere appreciation on his face. She relaxed, thinking herself perhaps out of the woods, so to speak.

“About your father    Mrs. Cheney began, then her voice drifted away.

“I fear I cannot say what he will think, or do, for he left us at the door last evening and went off. I expect he retired to the common room at Trinity to surround himself with the old familiar and comfortable essence of what he is and knows. Perhaps he had a glass of port with one of the other professors or fellows, maybe a hand of cards. Or it might be they merely sat and discussed something that distracted him from what he did not wish to dwell upon for the moment. He will face your accusation eventually.”

“Dare I ask how you feel about what Gisela said?”

Katherine looked at Lord Ramsey again, then nodded. “I suppose I am not the most loyal of daughters, but I could not help but feel just as Gisela. I knew what to expect and I ought to have cautioned you, I fear. But it was very difficult and awkward for me to say anything. Do you recall the remark Teddy made before he left us for Norwich, the one about being sad to miss divine services? He was happy to escape. It is not a pleasant thing, I must confess. I revere him, but Papa is a dead bore.”

At which words, the tension broke and Lord Ramsey gave a small chuckle. He rose from the sofa to stroll to the window. “I trust he will return to use the library again?”

“I cannot say.” Katherine glanced at Mrs. Cheney, then back to her lap, where her hands smoothed out her skirt. “I hope this will not alter our plans for the play. May we yet rehearse in your theater?” If Lord Ramsey denied the use, it would mean Katherine was free to rehearse whenever and wherever she pleased and was possible. And with whom, as well.

“Oh.” Mrs. Cheney jumped up and walked to the door. “I have your play, my dear. I will find it, for my maid will never know where to look. I wish to show you a part I particularly enjoyed. I will be but a few moments.”

The silence in the room deepened after she left. Katherine rose from her chair, walking slowly to where a pianoforte stood at the far end of the room. Idly, she allowed her fingers to pick out a melody while flicking glances at Lord Ramsey from time to time. It perhaps was not well done of her to boldly touch the instrument, but she could not bear to sit in silence with his lordship after what had happened earlier. That he should see her so disturbed her greatly.

“Will you play something for me?”

How, she wondered wildly, had he managed to get from the window to her side in seconds? Calling upon the strength that had seen her through countless evenings when she was required to entertain her father’s company, Katherine seated herself on the stool and began to play.

Why she drifted from an imposing church hymn by Bach to a romantic tune she had composed, she never knew. It was as flowing and dramatic as any Gothic tale might be. Indeed, it could be a musical theme for her play. She had poured the yearning of her heart into it. The piece concluded, she wondered what evil imp had urged her to perform it for Lord Ramsey.

“Lovely,” breathed Mrs. Cheney. “Wild and tempestuous, but undeniably lovely. It’s like a storm in a glade that tears the autumn leaves from the trees, preparing the sheltered spot for the tranquility of winter.”

“I do not recognize the music. It is contemporary, of course, but who?” He remained close to Katherine, a sensation she found overly disturbing.

“No one of consequence, sir.” Katherine rose from where she sat, crossing to join Mrs. Cheney. She avoided looking at Lord Ramsey, for she held the ridiculous notion he might read her mind. “You found my play, I see. What was it you wished to point out to me?”

Seeing that Katherine was not to be drawn into a discussion of the unusual music she had performed, her hostess politely opened to the part of the play that had particularly delighted her, and began to discuss the backdrop requisite for the scene.

Relieved to be so easily allowed to pass by her error, Katherine entered into the discussion with enthusiasm. Her sneezes gone and her chest feeling more normal, she thought she would be able to return home suffering no ill effects.

Before long she considered it time to depart. Rising to make her farewells, she was surprised when Lord Ramsey joined Gisela and her on their walk to the door. Her little cart awaited her, the donkeys standing placidly in the falling mist.

“I have enjoyed the afternoon,” Katherine declared with polite enthusiasm. There had been unsettling moments, but those she preferred to ignore.

Lord Ramsey frowned as he looked out the doorway to where the cart awaited. “I fear you will catch your death if you drive home in that vehicle.”

“I am not such a poor honey as that,” Katherine said with a touch of asperity. It might have served better had she not sneezed at that moment.

“Hot bricks and an extra blanket may help, but I have my doubts,” he said with a resigned tone of voice. “Will you promise us that you will not take any undue risks going home and promptly warm yourself once there?”

“I imagine the best thing would be to stay with us,” Gisela said thoughtfully. “I ought to insist, but I cannot think what your father would say when he learned of the matter.” She looked as though she might burst into tears at the thought of the discord she had created by her hasty, though sincerely meant, words.

“It would be far better, I agree. I feel Miss Penn has had quite enough of the Fairfax family for the time being.” Lord Ramsey revealed nothing of his thoughts on the matter.

Once Kendall arranged the cart with heated bricks, the butler bowed her out with formality, holding a huge umbrella over her while handing her the nicely dried-out one she had brought with her. He tucked in a blanket about her with a fatherly air, then watched her depart.

Katherine glanced back at the windows. Gisela waved once, then disappeared. Of Lord Ramsey she saw nothing.

There were no other vehicles foolish enough to be on the road, so Katherine had ample time to reflect upon the afternoon and all that had happened. She had detected a coolness of attitude in Lord Ramsey before she left. He had returned to calling her Miss Penn. Her ire rose as she considered possible reasons. He had not wanted her to remain, she felt sure of that. Then, a conceivable explanation for his behavior came to her. Oh, that Lord Ramsey could believe her so foolish as to succumb to the blandishments of the actor Ninian Denham!

With this ridiculous thought floating around in her mind, Katherine arrived home in a state of annoyance unrivaled in memory.

Cousin Sophia met her in the hall, rightly judged her mood, and guided Katherine into the drawing room, to push her onto a chair by the fire with no nonsense permitted, first removing her hooded cloak. “Amelia was here not long ago.”

Diverted momentarily from the tirade she was about to issue, Katherine asked, “What did she want, as if I did not know?”

“That girl is about a subtle as a dead pig,” Cousin Sophia declared. “She said she simply had to see you; then, when I said you were away from home, she poked and pried. She is just like her mother. Worse I could not say about her.”

Katherine moved forward to warm her hands, giving a watery chuckle as she did. “I wager we may have a spot of trouble with her.”

“A spot? More like an entire barrel, I should say.” Cousin Sophia sniffed in disdain, then grew alarmed as Katherine emitted a dainty sneeze. “What’s this? Are you taking a cold?” She bustled over to give a tug of the bellpull; then, not waiting, she hurried off to the hall to issue instructions to Mrs. Moore for a soothing draft.

“I knew I ought not go this afternoon,” Katherine explained. “The weather worsened, and although I now know better what prompted Mrs. Cheney to act in the manner she did, I fear there are other complications we had not anticipated.” Katherine eased off her shoes, then stretched her feet toward the fire. She was thawing out. Hopefully the weather would improve before the fair.

Mrs. Moore entered with a tray holding a steaming herbal tisane. Katherine sipped at it, allowing the warmth to spread throughout her.

“I know I shall be fine. I had a sneezing spell while at Fairfax Hall and Mrs. Cheney insisted I take an herbal bath. You know I am never ill.”

The front door slammed shut. In moments Mr. Penn came into the drawing room, his coat flapping about him as he strode across the room.

Mrs. Moore disappeared after a few whispered instructions from Cousin Sophia. Katherine studied her father, wondering what was going on in his head.

“Miserable day,” he commented, eyeing Katherine’s stocking feet with a raised brow.

“I was out and got chilled. Should you like an herbal drink? Peppermint is rather nice, I think.”

“Port is better,” countered Mr. Penn as he shed his coat and joined Katherine by the fire. “What a time I have had of it. Young fellow was with me today. Made me feel an ancient, larding his talk with ‘you know, sir,’ until I wanted to order him hence.”

She was surprised to hear him complain like this. He usually said not a word about his day at the college, nor anything of the people he dealt with.

“I miss your mother at times like this,” he admitted to Katherine’s further astonishment. “She was a comfort on days such as these.”

‘Tis a pity, Papa,” murmured Katherine, trying to understand what had happened to her usually taciturn father.

“I could have talked to her about yesterday. She would have understood,” Mr. Penn continued in a reflective tone.

Katherine studied him briefly while sipping her tisane, then ventured to say, “I feel certain that Mrs. Cheney would perceive more of your feelings than you know.”

Instead of flaring up in indignation, which Katherine fully expected him to do, Mr. Penn merely looked at her and shrugged. “Do you, indeed? Well, I misdoubt she or her brother will wish to see either of us again.”

“No reason for that, is there?” Katherine took a cautious breath, then continued, “Actually I saw them earlier today. I spent the afternoon at Fairfax Hall. Mrs. Cheney wished to explain her hasty words to me, and she hopes to convey her sentiments to you as well. It seems she had put you on a pedestal and you tumbled rather badly.” Katherine omitted any reference to Lord Ramsey. He was a topic best left alone.

“What say you, my Katherine?”

“About your message at divine service?” Katherine avoided his eyes, not wishing to make her thoughts known immediately to one who often read her too well.

“Ah, you need say nothing, my girl. That averted countenance tells me all. Did Sophia really go to sleep?”

“I did,” said that lady as she entered the room in time to hear the last few remarks. “You were a dreadful bore, Julian. Perhaps in the end Mrs. Cheney did you and all of us a service.

This was more than Julian could be expected to bear. He rose from his chair, gave his cousin a narrow look, then quit the room.

“That was not well done,” Katherine said softly. “He told me that he misses Mama.”

“And so he should. It would not have hurt him to marry again. Goodness knows you needed a mother, and a woman would have told him the needful long ago.”

“And you might have been tending your gardens these many years,” Katherine snapped back, then instantly repented her quick words.

“I have never said I regret my time with you, girl. I will not deny I would like my peace again, however.” She bestowed a fond pat on Katherine’s shoulder, then gave the doorway through which Julian Penn had passed a troubled look.

Mr. Penn remained at home for dinner, but the subject of Sunday was not brought forth again. Katherine went to bed with an uneasy heart. She had no better idea as to what Lord Ramsey might do about the play. Each day brought them closer to the date of the fair. They needed to reserve a space. Teddy was likely to be gone for a week, so she must make the arrangements. Or, better, Lord Ramsey. But they needed money and how she hated to approach him for the amount necessary. Would he think her accustomed to asking gentlemen for sums of cash?

The following morning Katherine was relieved to find her health no worse for her outing. The day was fine and she thought about setting out once again to look for a few of the late wildflowers that might have survived the rain.

Mrs. Moore entered the breakfast room with a missive in her hand.” ‘Tis from Fairfax Hall, if! make no mistake. For you, Katherine.”