The Roguish Miss Penn (18 page)

“When the men come with the scenery, I don’t want you in the way. You might be hurt.”

Katherine gave him an oblique glance, wishing that what happened to her truly made a difference where he was concerned. But hers was an absurd wish, a kind of dream indulged in by silly little twits with more hair than wit, not practical girls who knew the way of the world.

“Look, there is a menagerie setting up its booth.”

Entering into the spirit, Katherine gestured to their left, where other booths were in the process of being constructed. “See there?”

For the most part the booths were flimsy, subject to winds and rain. Open-fronted and made of wood and canvas, with pitched roofs covered with haircloth, they were frequently damaged by bad weather. Usually some, if not all, of the booth-holders created a rough sleeping apparatus from two or three boards nailed about a foot from the ground to four sturdy posts. Four boards were fixed cotlike around the side to keep them from tumbling out.

Ramsey glanced down at Katherine, bestowing his endearing grin on her with devastating effect, if he but knew it. “Looks right uncomfortable. I’ll wager you’d not welcome a night in something like that.”

“No, I like my creature comforts.”

Katherine had turned to watch an old woman setting about stacking her rush for mending chairs, so she missed the wicked gleam that now danced in Ramsey’s eyes. “I suspected as much,” he murmured.

Fortunately for Katherine’s peace of mind, she could not hear him.

The final days of preparation for the opening of the fair brought people from far and wide to the site. The sound of hammers rang out, while horses neighed in dismay at the noise. Katherine watched a pair of Gypsies lead their horses toward the north end of the large field where the horse fair was to be held on the first two days.

“It is exciting, is it not?”

When they reached Garlic Row, they encountered Cousin Sophia marching toward the theater booth. “I have searched everywhere for you. What is going on?” Sophia said with disconcerting bluntness, especially when combined with a hard stare at Lord Ramsey. Sophia took her task seriously—most of the time, at any rate.

Distressed to consider that the gentleman who was doing so much for them would be placed in an awkward position by her plain-speaking relative, Katherine reached through the slit in the cloak to put a staying hand on Sophia’s arm.

“Lord Ramsey sought me out at the theater and brought me this cloak to help preserve my identity. I am most grateful to him.” She glanced about her at the throng of people intent on their various tasks. “Not that anyone might pay me the least attention. ‘Tis monstrously busy here. I doubt I’d be noticed.”

Only slightly mollified, Cousin Sophia nodded politely to Lord Ramsey. “Much obliged to you, sir. Since Katherine has become involved in this venture, it seems all sense of propriety has fled her mind.”

“Surely not all,” denied Katherine with a twinkle in her eyes. “I was looking for you earlier and did not find you. For I knew I needed a chaperone, and so I told Cousin Sidney.”

“He was here?” Cousin Sophia demanded.

“Wanted Kate to eat oysters with him.”

Before Katherine could remonstrate with him regarding his calling her Kate, a landau rumbled to a halt close by. Katherine turned to discover Gisela Cheney and Mr. Penn seated inside.

“So this is where you are,” Julian Penn declared in a carrying voice.

Gisela placed a hand on his arm. “Katherine is like me, she finds the fair irresistible. Come join us,” she pleaded with Katherine and Cousin Sophia, evidently assuming her brother would automatically accept her invitation.

After a wary, questioning glance at Lord Ramsey, Katherine, Cousin Sophia, and Philip entered the spacious landau to slowly jounce along the dirt lane.

Activity bustled on every side. Katherine took note of the leather seller and glover, for his goods were of the highest quality. Next to his booth was a laceman busy constructing shelves for his wares. Furniture-makers, silversmiths, dealers in everything from fans and toys to pattens and millinery were unloading merchandise and arranging their stock. All would sleep in the back rooms of their respective booths. Great wheels of cheese were stacked at the far end of the long row, while at the other were the pottery-makers and the coal-dealers.

About a mile or so down the lane, they came to where the oyster fair was set out. All ready business was in swing, selling to the dealers before the official opening took place. Katherine glanced in that direction, glad she had not gone with Cousin Sidney.

“Look, everyone. The horses!” Gisela placed an excited hand on Mr. Penn’s arm, then gestured to where a number of racers and hunters from Yorkshire were being led into a pen. Beyond them could be seen Suffolk draft horses, indeed, horses from all over England gathered for the great horse fair.

Mr. Penn studied the animals. “In my youth this fair was far greater, you know. I can recall that the finest horses in the country were brought here for sale. There were more booths as well. Now, with London an easy drive, the things sold here are trivial matters, and people seem bent more on having a fine time rather than stocking up for the coming year.”

“Then why have you not sent Katherine to her Great-aunt Harriette? Katherine said she had been invited to London to make her come-out.” The logical connection between a visit to London and the change in the character of the fair escaped Katherine, but she listened intently for her father’s reply. She had wondered too often why he repeatedly refused her great-aunt’s invitations to miss an explanation now.

Mr. Penn gave his daughter a thoughtful look. “It did not occur to me that Katherine would wish to go. Was I wrong, my child? Mrs. Cheney has on several occasions made me aware of my negligence.”

Totally engrossed in the turn of the conversation, she did not notice the appearance of her cousin at the edge of the oyster air.

Sidney had consumed a selection of the large Lynn oysters, all as big as a horse’s hoof, as well as some of the more delicate oysters from Colchester and Whitstable. He felt satisfied until he caught sight of his pretty cousin with Lord Ramsey. Sidney totally ignored the others in the carriage, for there were really only two who mattered.

Katherine had declined to keep her promised excursion with him not because she had a task, but because she thought she stood a chance with Lord Ramsey, who most assuredly had no need of her. Sidney did. The scene firmed his resolve. The smile that curved his lips was not pleasant in the least.

Katherine wondered how to best answer her father’s question. “‘Tis not that I wished to leave you, you understand, but I should have liked to enjoy the balls and parties. It can be dreadfully dull in Cambridge, Papa.”

He looked affronted, then sighed. “I fear this has been a season of facing unpalatable truths.” His glance at Mrs. Cheney revealed what other facts had intruded in his pleasant and introspective life.

“By the way, sir,” Lord Ramsey said in a casual yet respectful manner, “there is a likelihood that a living in my keeping will become vacant shortly. Do you have anyone you might suggest for that position?” Philip dared not glance at Katherine, yet he felt her stiffen at his side in the carriage.

Mr. Penn gazed at Katherine, a pensive expression settling on his face. She wondered if he intended to compensate for her lack of a London Season by putting forth the name she would offer.

“Well, that might remedy a thing or two,” Cousin Sophia declared in her forthright way.

“Sophia,” Katherine pleaded in a quiet voice.

“Mr. Weekes is eminently worthy of a living. He is a fine scholar and I believe he would like to have a family. Is that not right, Katherine?” Mr. Penn replied.

She could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I cannot vouch for what Mr. Weekes might have to say regarding that, Papa. He usually comes to see you. That had bothered Katherine a great deal. It seemed the only time she got to see the man she respected and wished to marry was when he came to see her father or to dinner. And dinner invitations were thin on the ground, for one could not be too obvious.

“Hm.” Mr. Penn narrowed his gaze, looking first at Lord Ramsey, then at his daughter. “I should think it a very good thing were you to offer him that living. He’s a good man, a fine fellow at the college, and I believe he’d do well with a parish of his own. Likes to preach, as I recall.”

“I shall do precisely that.” Lord Ramsey settled against the squabs of the carriage, but anyone bothering to really look at him could see he was as tense as a rope-dancer about to set out across a high, taut cable.

Katherine was in a quandary. While she had hoped for a living to become available for Michael Weekes for what seemed like ages, now that the day had about arrived, her emotions grew mixed. It was difficult to plan for a future with Michael while so strongly attracted to Philip. The elegant and infuriating— not to mention kind and teasing—Lord Ramsey was a cut above her on the social scale. Katherine was far too practical to waste time daydreaming about a fine marriage to him, however she might adore such. Yet, could she muster enthusiasm for what she had desired for so long? She expelled a long breath.

“You sigh, Miss Penn?” Philip leaned closer to where she sat, ostensibly to inquire after her state of mind.

She was acutely aware of him. His proximity to where she primly sat on the cushion barely allowed her back to touch the squabs.

“I suspect we had better return.. . to town,” Katherine said after hastily changing her original direction of thought. She had intended to go to the theater, but with her father in the carriage, there was no way she might give voice to those words. She darted a warning glance to Gisela, then nudged Cousin Sophia lest that good woman inadvertently reveal her plans.

“Market today,” Sophia said blandly. “Why the university insists on preventing the farmers from opening their stalls in the town center until after twelve of the clock is more than I can see. Downright foolish, I call it. If you wish fresh vegetables and poultry, one must wait. Most annoying.”

She glared at her cousin as though holding him personally responsible for what she considered a stupid ordinance. That the university had the right to fix the price of bread had further irritated Sophia. The friction that existed between the town and school stemmed from many sources, not merely the frequent excesses of students. Smashing lampposts and drunken brawls, however, didn’t help the matter, as Sophia frequently pointed out.

A distressing silence hung over the carriage on the way back to the Penn house. Katherine gratefully stepped down, then offered her hand to Cousin Sophia when she joined her. Katherine studied Lord Ramsey with thoughtful eyes before the signal was given for the landau to move away from the house. He revealed nothing of his feelings. Katherine flounced into the house in a rare temper.

With her customary bland expression Cousin Sophia watched her charge disappear behind the front door. Turning to Mr. Penn, who seemed about to stroll off to his college, she said, “You will do well to keep your nose out of this affair, Julian. You have done quite enough for one day, I believe.”

“Woman, if I knew what was going on in my own home, I’d not have to make a fool of myself,” he growled back.

“Perhaps were you to be around more often, you’d not have to be told,” she snapped back at him. Then she whirled about and stomped up the steps and into the house, leaving a puzzled Mr. Penn to head for his favorite spot, the commons room, and a glass of port.

Finding that Teddy had gone off to the theater, Katherine decided that she would join him. It was best to keep busy. Before she might depart, she found Melly marching up the front walk.

“Blast and tarnation,” Katherine fumed.

“That is rather a drastic and unladylike thing to say, Kate, dear,” Sophia declared.

“I am not Kate,” Katherine said between gritted teeth as she moved forward to greet Melly.

“One might be forgiven for thinking so,” Cousin Sophia answered in a soft and exceedingly smooth voice.

“Oh, good, you are still here. I made sure you might be off to the fair site. Have you heard? One of the old clerics has gone aloft. That means there will be a living available. I wonder if Mr. Weekes will make the final list of candidates for the position?” Melly smiled while studying Katherine with an assessing gaze. “It is a very prosperous parish, you know. Most desirable.” Finding that Katherine either knew nothing or refused to add to Melly’s fount of knowledge, the pretty girl took herself off in a huff.

“Widgeon,” muttered Cousin Sophia.

"I'm going back to the theater. I want to see all is in readiness for the dress rehearsal tomorrow.”

“I shan’t go with you. If your brother is there, you won’t need me. All this traipsing about has kept me from my shopping.”

Bestowing a forgiving and most understanding smile on Sophia, Katherine pulled the soft cloak about her, then set off toward the fair. It was a walk of some two miles, but the day was pleasant, although the cloak offered welcome warmth in the coolish air. She smoothed the soft fabric about her. It seemed Lord Ramsey frequently saw to her welfare.

Once she reached the theater, Katherine carefully glanced about before sneaking to the side entrance. She was certain she had not been observed in her oblique approach to the large theater booth.

The cries of the walnut man as he roamed the lane reached her ears as she pulled open the door.

“Twenty a penny, walnuts! Walnuts, twenty a penny! Crack ‘um away, crack ‘um away here.”

The door swung shut and a different sort of sound reached her: the muted noise of sets being shifted and soft discussions about the probable profit to come. In moments she was deeply involved in sorting out costumes and soothing Eliza O’Neill over her harem outfit, or more precisely, her father.

Her patience all ready much tried this day, Katherine struggled to maintain the sort of bland calm Cousin Sophia so successfully dispersed.

“Looks tolerable, wouldn’t you say?” Teddy said in a masterful understatement as they moved apart to look over the sets.