The Roguish Miss Penn (27 page)

Gisela clapped her hands with approval. “Well done, Kendall. This is truly a family project. We must save Miss Penn, you see.”

While neither Kendall nor Mrs. Stedman knew precisely what was going on, they had a fair idea which way the wind blew. They approved. Anything to help the sweet Miss Penn had their instant support.

Kendall poured two cups of tea. Gisela took hers, then watched as her brother sipped at his, deep in thought. She picked up a biscuit, then said, “What a pity you cannot do like those heroes in the Minerva Press novels.” He glanced her way, then looked at Kendall. Both men shrugged. “And what do they do, pray tell?” Philip asked.

Gisela took a nibble from her biscuit before replying to his query. “Abscond with her.”

“What?”

“Kidnap her.”

“I do not have evil intentions, my sweet. I am all nobility of conduct.” His grin was wry, for there were moments when he had harbored distinctly uncivilized desires toward his lovely Kate.

“Stupid. Kidnap her for her own good, do you not see?”

“Katherine? Do you think it would work?” He turned to Kendall, thus annoying his sister, whose idea it had been in the first place.

“I am told it can be most effective, my lord,” Kendall replied with austere simplicity. The how and where of it was best left to those involved. “If there is anything we can do?”

“Get that puppet to the carriage. I must dash out to the fair and stow it safely away before the cast returns for the evening performance. Do not be surprised if I have Miss Penn with me when I return.”

Philip hurried from the room, leaving Gisela deep in thought. While she sympathized with her brother in regard to Katherine’s safety, she wondered if the venturesome Katherine might not have a thing or two to say about the matter.

Philip clattered away down the drive and out of the park in the phaeton, his “passenger” bouncing about in the most reckless manner imaginable. That the puppet remained on the seat at all was due to Kendall’s forethought. He had the presence of mind to tie the thing down.

By managing to whisk along the back streets that ran along the river, Philip drove down the Newmarket road before long. He drew up next to the theater booth and untied his passenger from the phaeton. Few gave him but a passing look, for it was not unlikely that a strange-looking prop would be carried into the theatrical area. Puppets were not unusual and warranted little notice.

As soon as he stowed the straw-stuffed figure neatly behind a set where it would likely be safe until he needed it, Philip rushed back to the carriage and feverishly drove back to town. He glanced at the timepiece he pulled from his pocket while he waited at the front door of the Penn house. The hours were ticking by all too quickly. There was yet much to be done.

“Mrs. Moore, is Miss Penn to home?”

“Aye, I will fetch her at once.” The matronly figure turned to leave, then glanced back. His lordship was in a rare taking. She hurried.

Within minutes Katherine came hastily down the stairs, her simple gown of sea-green cotton floating about her, trailing slightly on the steps. “Lord Ramsey? Mrs. Moore told me you were here and a bit impatient. Is there a problem?”

“Forgive me for causing you a moment’s worry. I wanted to take you for a drive. Will you come?” He extended his hand and smiled at her with those beautiful eyes.

Katherine met his gaze. It really wasn’t fair in the least for a man to have such dark curling lashes and intriguing lights in the depths of his eyes. She took note of his splendid figure and, wonder of it all, a wisp of straw on his pantaloons. What had his lordship been doing this morning?

“Will I?” she echoed, then sharply reminded herself not to be a ninny. Take what comes your way and be glad of it, she sternly rebuked that mind of hers that wanted so much more. “It sounds lovely.”

She tied her bonnet over her curls, then gathered up her favorite shawl. He seemed unusually impatient today, she observed and wondered. “Do you have something special to show me today?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he admitted, giving thanks that Kate chose to be agreeable. He ushered her from the house just as Cousin Sophia came up the walk. He nodded and winked at the older lady, who had the good sense not to demand an explanation.

Katherine greeted Sophia with affection. “We are off on some sort of surprise. ‘Tis a mystery, for he will not reveal a word to me.”

“Enjoy yourselves and do not forget to be respectable in your jaunting about.” She caught the expression on Lord Ramsey’s face. She’d give a great deal to know what was going on. However, she knew better than to impede whatever scheme he had in his mind. She trusted him to take care of Katherine, and that was all that mattered to her.

‘Tis a lovely afternoon,” Katherine ventured to say as the carriage set out to the east. She was surprised they drove the opposite direction from the fair, yet perhaps if he had a surprise, it might be at the hall.

Her heart fluttered a bit. He looked so dashing in his rig, wisp of straw notwithstanding. She daringly reached over to pluck it from his leg, then tossed it aside. “Are we in a hurry?” The carriage rocked with alarming motion as they racketed over the Silver Street Bridge and picked up speed. She couldn’t hazard a guess at their velocity, but she knew she had never traveled so fast in her entire life. The scenery whizzed past at a shocking rate. She clutched at the sides of the phaeton for dear life.

“We are,” came his reply as he feathered a turn on the road. Katherine prayed they’d not meet a slow-moving stage wagon or farmer’s cart. Somehow she suspected that Lord Ramsey would keep the phaeton on the road, leaving the others to cope as best they might. She shrank against the squabs, wondering what would come next on this wild outing.

Recalling the last novel she had managed to borrow from Amelia Bonner, who, in spite of her mother’s strictures against such, read them frequently, Katherine said, “I should say you are kidnapping me, my lord, did I not know there is not in the least reason for such behavior.” The chuckle in her throat died as she caught sight of his expression.

“Quite so,” came his terse reply, a far from satisfactory one where Katherine was concerned.

“And what does that mean, pray tell?”

They rushed through the gates to Fairfax Hall, narrowly missing the stone entrance.

Katherine breathed a sigh of relief as Kendall hurried down the steps to assist her from the carriage. She placed a trembling hand in his, then stood a moment to regain her composure. Philip jumped down, murmured a few words to the groom who stood at the ready, then ushered Katherine into the house. Kendall followed, managing to open the front door, then show them to the saloon with unruffled ease.

“That was a bit of a dash, I suspect. I seems you left the house but a short time ago.” Gisela rose from her chair to cross the room and place a comforting arm about Katherine.

Philip pulled his timepiece from its pocket and nodded. “You might say that it was done in jig time. Now, if everything is fine, I shall be off again. I trust you to do the right thing, Gisela.” Philip slapped his gloves against his hand while studying his sister’s face.

“Shall I bring tea, Lady Gisela?” Kendall inquired with his customary serenity.

“Would someone kindly tell me what this is all about?” Katherine demanded.

Lady Gisela gave her younger brother a defiant look, then took Katherine’s hands in hers. “Philip has learned who it is that plans to kill you. He feels it would be safer for you to remain here.” She again tossed him a look. “He is going to trick the would-be killer into revealing his identity and then capture him. I suspect that before the night is up, you will have to worry no longer.”

Katherine gave them a numb stare, then sank down in a chair that was blessedly close to her. Had she been required to search for one, she’d have been in dire trouble. So astounded was she that she neglected to inquire who the villain might be.

“I see.” She turned up her face to meet Lord Ramsey’s shuttered gaze. “I want to go with you.” She rose and took a step toward him. “You might be hurt.”

He gave her an impatient look, a worried one, if she had really trained her eyes on him. “And you might be killed. Trust me to know what is best for you, my dear. I do not wish a hair on your head to be harmed.”

“You can say that after the wild drive from town? Hah!” She crossed the room to where he edged toward the door, her hands held in a gesture of appeal. “Please?” It was not an easy matter for one as independent as she to beg.

“It is for your own good.” With those words, he was gone, whirling out the front door in a swirl of black cape that Kendall managed to throw over his shoulders before Philip disappeared.

“How convenient,” Katherine muttered bitterly. “I know I ought to be grateful, and a lady ought not even think of such a dangerous, risky business, but how I’d like to be there. For my own good,” she echoed, mimicking his tone perfectly.

She began to pace the floor, pausing from time to time to glance out the window. “The utter gall of the man,” she declared with asperity. “That he should decide whether or not I ought to be present.”

“It is ever thus,” Gisela said in an attempt to soothe. “Your cousin intends to use a knife, and they can be nasty items.”

“Sidney?” Katherine screeched. “Sidney, the dandy, our guest, the Sidney who sleeps in our home? I cannot credit it. Why? Why would he wish to murder me? Not long ago he asked me to wed him.” Katherine stood stock-still in her shock, unable to find a chair in which to sink.

“I was not supposed to tell you that, I fancy,” Gisela said in a contrite voice. “But you would learn of it eventually.”

Katherine fixed her friend with a steely gaze, then sweetly inquired, “Now tell me why.”

Gisela rubbed the tip of her nose, then began to parade up and down the room, taking dainty steps befitting her station. “Your Great-aunt Winstanley married well, I take it. When her nabob husband died, Lady Winstanley possessed a fortune. She still does. And you are her principal heir, or so Philip informed me.” Gisela paused not far from Katherine. “We fear Sidney will stop at nothing to get what he wants, and I suspect he wants the money more than he wants you. He plans to thrust a knife in your back, then slip your body where it will not be easily found until after he is far away from Cambridge, I imagine.”

Katherine found a chair, managed to sit down, a faint “Oh” slipping between her lips. Then more firmly, she added, “But he cannot do that.”

“Which is why Philip wants you safely here.”

Katherine jumped up from her chair, pacing about much as Gisela had done, only using longer strides. “You do realize Philip might be the one who is stabbed if I am missing. If one is in the stabbing mood, I daresay one is not precisely too particular who one stabs, if you follow me?”

Gisela shook her head, mute with confusion.

“You must see that I cannot allow Lord Ramsey to sacrifice himself for me,” Katherine declared in ringing accents. “I am going.” She scooped up her things, then marched toward the front door.

Gisela barred her way. “I promised Philip you would remain safely here with me.”

Katherine gave her a frustrated look, debating whether she might push Gisela aside and rush from the house. It was unthinkable to be so crude. But Katherine was determined to go, nonetheless. She bided her time, waiting, pretending to be reluctantly agreeable.

Gisela avoided all talk of the evening to come, apparently believing that if Katherine might have her mind on something else, she could be diverted. They discussed, in a crazily abstracted way, bonnets and slippers, gowns and shawls, until Katherine wanted to scream.

At last Gisela found it necessary to leave the room. She had shared innumerable cups of tea with a worried Katherine, and they had taken their inevitable toll. Since Katherine appeared to accept her fate, Gisela believed it unnecessary to place a guard on her friend.

She was wrong.

No sooner had Gisela walked up the stairs than Katherine had again gathered up her things, plunking her bonnet on her head any old way, and slipped from the side door to the saloon. She ran to the stables, where she made her demands known.

“I need a horse, or a carriage, or something.” Her imperious tone was such the groom had obeyed all his working life. He was not about to challenge it now. “Yes, miss.”

Twenty minutes or so later Katherine was tooling a neat little gig down the drive. Every moment of Katherine’s wait had been filled with dire worries of what might happen. If only Gisela believed that Katherine had gone on a similar errand, all would be well. Hector watched her with wary eyes, curious what she might be doing here.

Just as she passed the house, Gisela ran out, waving frantically at Katherine to stop. She ignored the summons and kept going toward town at top speed.

A troubled Gisela stood at the top of the stairs, arms wrapped about her against the chill until Katherine had disappeared from sight. She entered the house in a thoughtful mood, then went to the library desk, where she scratched out a note. This was promptly folded, sealed, and dispatched on its way with a footman.

Her deed accomplished, Gisela returned to the saloon to sit by the window, waiting.

* * * *

Meanwhile, Katherine careened through Cambridge in much the same manner that Lord Ramsey had done shortly before. She also took the road along the Backs, that lovely spot of green between the River Cam and many of the colleges.

The Newmarket road was thronged with vehicles. Katherine curbed her impatience with great difficulty. A glance at the sky revealed the hour grew late. When would Sidney strike? During the bustle before the play began? Or when the lights were lowered and it was hard to distinguish one person from another? The area backstage was not particularly well-lit in the best of moments. One could trip and fall if not careful. If Sidney were clever—and she suspected he was extremely so—he would choose a time when he might sneak up behind . . . “Good grief,” she murmured. “Who will he kill if I am not there?" No one had thought to pass that little detail along to her. She ought to have inquired as to the identity of the killer straightaway. Instead, Katherine had sat like a lump on a log, stunned and stupid.