The Roguish Miss Penn (23 page)

Mrs. Moore spirited Katherine up the stairs to one of the bedrooms while Lord Ramsey strode off in the direction of the library, Hector at his heels.

Trusting that Katherine was enjoying her bath and trying not to dwell on the vision of her floating about in the water, Philip sought Julian Penn. The image of Katherine draped about from calf to neck with an enormous towel had haunted him since he had glimpsed her by the fireside in the little room off the plunge bath. A shapely ankle below the curve of an equally appealing calf lingered long in his memory. His recollection of her form as revealed following her fall in the pond was little short of spectacular. Ah, she was a lovely lass, had a fine mind, and possessed a bit of a temper. Her eyes flashed with fire when she was provoked. He could see how she longed to give vent to it, just barely curbing her passion. Philip wondered how that wonderful passion would be when channeled to another, more intimate scene.

“Good day, Lord Ramsey,” Mr. Penn said, his voice respectful to the younger man.

Philip repressed a grin, for he was the one who ought to be overwhelmed. Mr. Penn was a fine scholar, a man of even temperament and inquiring disposition. Kate must take after her mother.

“How does your study progress?” Philip joined the older man at the far end of the library, wondering what he had found to fascinate him today.

“Dipping into law and the Church,” replied Mr. Penn genially. “I fear I am making a bother of myself, but I do enjoy the search.”

“Not at all. I believe my sister has occupied much of your time while here. The Beatitudes, now?”

Mr. Penn actually colored slightly, then nodded. “True. Your sister has a remarkable mind.”

“For a woman,” came a voice from the archway where Gisela Cheney stood listening. She was dressed in a particularly pretty lavender gown trimmed in white ribands and lace. There was a panel of delicate embroidery down the front of the dress. Philip recognized the gown as something new, and he silently applauded Mr. Penn for the change wrought in his sister.

“I expect you must be off to your commons room. How congenial that must be for you. I trust we shall see you here whenever you can manage the time.” She drew him along with her, smiling persuasively at him.

Mr. Penn gave her a puzzled look, then nodded. “I am truly grateful for the happy hours spent with these wonderful books, dear ma’am.” He allowed himself to be led from the room after a polite farewell to Philip.

Alone, Philip turned his thoughts to the danger he suspected faced Katherine. Who might be the one who had tried to kill her? Even if Katherine thought it a lot of nonsense, Philip did not. Perhaps he ought to have told her about the rope? She would likely blame it on the Norwich Company. Philip decided they had best explore every avenue.

“Philip, why did you insist upon all this secrecy? Why was Mr. Penn not to know of her presence?” Gisela glided into the library and up to confront her brother.

“She does not wish him to know of her involvement in the theater, at least until the play has begun and is a success.”

“You are so certain it will be?”

“It is a good plot and Eliza O’Neill is a gifted actress. She makes that insipid heroine believable.”

“I suspect there is more than merely the desire to keep Julian in the dark.” There was a hint of speculation in Gisela’s voice, not to mention a strong desire to know what was going on that had been kept from her.

“You are too clever by half, Gisela,” Katherine said from the doorway. She had bathed, dressed in the fresh gown sent out by Cousin Sophia, and felt able to face the brother and sister with equanimity. Attired in a sea-green gown of soft mull that she knew became her, she watched Lord Ramsey in particular as she stepped forward.

Faced by two determined women, Philip did what any sensible man in that position would do. “Let us discuss this over dinner. I imagine Katherine must be starved by now.”

Momentarily diverted, Katherine smiled. “A lady does not admit to being hungry, sirrah.”

Once seated at the table, Gisela returned to the topic that had drawn her earlier. “Philip, you must explain about this business with the fair and Katherine.” She met Katherine’s gaze to smile in apology. “Not but what I do not adore your company, my dear, but this havey-cavey sneaking up the back stairs and hiding away does prompt questions.”

Her brother sighed. He pushed away his nearly empty plate to study the two women, so alike in determination, so different in appearance. “You know that a weight fell, just barely missing Katherine. The rope was new, and cut as well as frayed. It was no accident. Then with the matter of the dead cat—”

“Dead cat,” Gisela exclaimed, clearly horrified.

Patiently Philip continued, “Someone let a stray cat into the theater and Katherine fed it her chicken sandwich. Some time later it was found dead outside the door.”

“I still say the meat could have gone off,” insisted Katherine. Appealing to Gisela, she added, “You well know how it can be with any poultry. One must forever be careful. I ought to have chosen cheese.” She had tucked away the information about the cut rope for later contemplation and possible scolding of Lord Ramsey. How dare the man withhold the information from her?

“I suspect that had you selected cheese, that would have also been the instrument of death, and there would have been no mouse handy to eat it for you.”

“At any rate, I was too nervous to eat.” Katherine eyed the food on her plate. All this talk of poison quite put her off her appetite.

“But you might have nibbled,” Philip objected.

“Is not arsenic called inheritance powder? What are you due to gain, Katherine?” Gisela inquired, only half-joking.

“There are no fortunes in our family that I know about. What Father has will fall to Teddy. Cousin Sophia owns a small cottage by the sea, hardly worth killing for, I’d say.” Katherine frowned. Poison? Murder? “This is utterly farfetched. There is no reason in the world for anyone to wish me dead.”

With that statement, Katherine eased back in her chair, willing the discussion to be over.

“Nevertheless you will oblige me by taking extra care the coming days. I’d not want your death on my conscience.” Philip opened his mouth to say more, then glanced at his sister. What else he wanted to say could be left for the moment.

“I intend to go out to the fair quite early tomorrow. If you wish to come along, you may,” Katherine said with a saucy tilt of her head. “I am not about to request a guard.”

Philip groaned as the door opened. A footman entered bearing a tray of sweets. Katherine eyed them with longing. Cook provided excellent fare, but no pastries such as these.

The three sat drinking tea and nibbling fruit tarts while lost in thought. Katherine wondered how much of all this foolishness was solely in Lord Ramsey’s mind and what might be reality. Personally, she thought it all a great hum.

When it came time for Katherine to go home, for she absolutely insisted upon sleeping in her own bed tonight, Lord Ramsey took her there while it was still light out. And they traveled in an enclosed carriage, a piece of stuff and nonsense if Katherine ever saw one.

“You truly believe in this threat?” she gently queried as one might of someone who is slightly deranged.

“I can only hope that all my instincts are playing me false in this instance.” Philip hoped that the nervous plucking of the sea-green mull meant that Katherine was beginning to listen to him.

She allowed him to escort her into the house, then slipped up to her room as quietly as possible. Her father, as usual, was out. Where Teddy and Cousin Sidney might be, she didn’t know. Cousin Sophia was in her room, for Katherine saw faint light coming from beneath the door as she tiptoed past.

A creak of the old wooden floor betrayed her as she entered her room. She wasn’t surprised when Cousin Sophia rapped on her door a few minutes later.

“All is well? What did Lord Ramsey have to say?”

“I think it all a humbug. He is of the opinion that someone is out to murder me. I shan’t believe it on the flimsy evidence he offered.” Katherine extracted her dainty muslin night rail from the chest, tossing it on the bed while she began to undo the tapes of her gown.

“I wonder, my dear. Lord Ramsey does not seem the sort of person to see things where they do not exist.”

The older woman stayed a short time, helping Katherine while offering a running commentary on Lord Ramsey’s theory. When she had left the room, Katherine plumped herself down beneath the covers to think a bit.

Fatigue overcame her, and the next thing she knew, the soft light of morning crept over her sill, slipping across her covers with fingers of sunshine.

Cousin Sophia met her in the breakfast room, her concern quickly concealed behind a hastily bland face. “What do you plan today?”

Katherine gave her an affronted look. “I shall go out to the fair, of course. I very much like that bottle of scent and intend to buy another.” She thought Lord Ramsey had noticed it, for he had bent over her shoulder to open the door for her when they had come up to the house. He had not wanted to disturb anyone, he’d claimed.

“See if they have a bottle of Tea Rose, I rather think I’d like that. I shan’t come out today until time for the evening performance.” Cousin Sophia watched as Katherine picked at her food, the nervous nibbles, anxious glances darted out the window at the sky beyond. “It does not look to rain. That will be good for the crowd tonight.”

“I know it can make all the difference between success and failure. Can you imagine the Newmarket road after a bad rainstorm?”

“Do not even think it, dear girl.”

Gisela was with Lord Ramsey when the carriage arrived at the Penn house to pick up Katherine.

“Lovely day, is it not?” Katherine said gaily. She had not seen either her brother or Cousin Sidney this morning. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.

Philip watched Katherine come gaily tripping down the walk to where he awaited her by the carriage. She was wearing that pretty yellow muslin, the one that she’d worn the day they met. He hoped the dark-blue spencer would keep her comfortable, for the morning was cool. Katherine’s honey-blond curls were nicely tucked beneath her favorite bonnet, one she wore frequently. He was pleased she’d been waiting for them and had not kept them standing. For all that she was obstinate, she was also very considerate.

The noise from the fair could be heard at a goodly distance. When the carriage drew close to the booths, they found a merry scene, colorfully garbed tradesmen plying their wares while visitors to the fair picked and chose with care and not a little pleasure.

“I see Mayor Mortlock is here,” Katherine commented sourly as the pompous man who had held control over the town for ages passed not far from where they stood.

At Lord Ramsey’s questioning look, Katherine flushed. “‘Tis said he loves power for its own sake. Goodness knows the city is corrupt enough. Witness the problems with the water. Of course, he calls it naught but ‘influence,’”  she scoffed. “If you have a large-enough purse, you can do as you jolly well please around here.”

“’‘Tis the way of the world, my dear,” Gisela whispered.

“Tell me, what is the Spinning House? I heard a man inform a woman she ought to be there, wherever and whatever it is . . .”

Katherine looked askance, then decided plain speech the best reply. “‘Tis the place for lewd women. That is another disgrace. There is no fire, nothing to help sustain them but what they can earn by spinning or beating hemp. No sewer, so you may imagine what the place smells like. They need something to keep them warm, and beds, rather than pallets of straw on that cold floor. The dab of money spent there years ago did little to alleviate the situation.”

“Pity for lewd women, Katherine? From the doctor of divinity’s daughter?” Philip glanced down at her with twinkling eyes.

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” she said quietly, wondering what manner of life his lordship had lived while in London. “I’ve found the people who live rather dashingly are the ones who profess great piety in public.”

Philip turned away, feeling slightly uncomfortable with that direct gaze fixed upon him. For one who had such a wicked sense of humor, Katherine was a surprisingly decorous girl. Compassionate, as well, he reflected as he watched her stroll down Garlic Row.

He could hear the sounds from Adam’s Circus, where animals restlessly prowled while customers gawked. All along the booths people bargained for everything from fine leather gloves to figures in painted porcelain and wood. Gisela paused to inspect a tea caddy in fine rosewood.

Katherine located the booth where she had bought her vial of scent, purchased another, plus a bottle of Tea Rose scent for Cousin Sophia. She felt more at ease once here at the grounds of the fair. There was absolutely no reason to listen to the warnings from Lord Ramsey. He was naught but an alarmist.

He was also at her side more often than not.

“Finding all you wish?” he inquired from over her shoulder after he had watched her pay for her bottle of scent. So that was what produced the lovely flowering fragrance that clung to Katherine. He made mental note of the essence.

Having little money for frivolities, since her father seldom saw fit to remember to leave her much, Katherine politely nodded. “Yes. I do enjoy looking, however.”

Philip had no knowledge of Mr. Penn’s attitude toward money and Katherine, but he knew how absentminded the man was. Philip smiled, then took Katherine’s arm to stroll along Garlic Row, inspecting the contents of every booth they passed. He was happily unaware that Katherine fully intended to offer her pressed-flower pictures for sale in the following days to obtain a bit of extra money.

Gisela complained, “You go too fast, brother dear. I wish to look over these fans. See, Katherine, are they not charming?” She held up one of fine lace with sandalwood sticks.

Philip picked up a fan that had hand-painted roses on the silk and beautifully carved ivory sticks. The fan would look delightful when held by Katherine, so he bought it. Presenting it to her was more difficult.