The Roguish Miss Penn (28 page)

It was a simple matter to maneuver the gig behind the theater booth. Looping the reins over a post, Katherine dashed to the side door, then cautiously slipped inside.

There was the usual bustle of the actors getting ready for the comedy. Muted laughter mingled with the voices of those who repeated their opening lines. The smell of paint and sweat was strong, mixed with the perfume Eliza O’Neill wore at all times. It floated about her like a cloak to ward off less-desirable odors.

Katherine waited to grow accustomed to the dim light. Sidney seemed to be nowhere within sight. She glanced about her, then sidled over along the wall toward the rear of the theater. She was quite certain she was undetected when a hand reached around her from behind, covering her mouth.

Katherine was hastily dragged to the shadows, then thrust against the rear wall. She accidentally bumped her head, hard. She sagged to the floor, quite unconscious.

* * * *

“Lady Gisela? I received your note and came as quickly as I might.” Julian Penn joined the lovely lady in the saloon, his bewilderment at the wording of the summons clear on his handsome, though mature, face.

“I hoped you might come promptly, sir.”

“Julian, I think.” He smiled kindly down at her, leading the way to the sofa near the fireplace. The warmth of a fire was welcome on this chilly day.

“Julian,” she repeated obediently, “if you will call me Gisela. We are good friends, I believe.”

“Nay, more than friends, my lady. I have foolish aspirations that someday I shall share with you. Now, what is all the to-do about?” He sat after seeing her arranged nicely on the sofa.

Gisela ignored the flutterings within, took a deep breath, and then plunged ahead with what she suspected was to be a vastly difficult explanation.

“It is Katherine. Did you know she writes?”

“Aye, she scribbles a good deal, judging by the number of quills she consumes, not to mention paper.”

“Julian, she has written a play, a prodigiously delightful spoof on the current melodramas. And,” Gisela said, reaching out to touch his arm, “it is being produced in a theater out at Sturbridge Fair. My brother built the theater, hired the actors, and even designed the sets. His carpenter constructed them here. Philip has a great deal invested in this production, more than you can possibly guess.” Gisela had, but she felt it not right to reveal her speculation.

“I cannot take this in. Katherine wrote a play that is being produced?"

“And your son Theodore produced it,” Gisela added.

That Mr. Penn was flummoxed was comically clear to Gisela. He was also angry. “I cannot accept they have not confided in me.”

“That is not the worst.”

“What is it?”

“Did you know your aunt is an exceedingly wealthy woman? She intends to leave her entire estate to Katherine. Your nephew plans to capture that fortune for himself, for he thinks if he removes Katherine from the scene, he will stand to inherit. Sidney means to kill her this evening. Stab her, if my brother is correct, and he usually is.”

“But this is terrible!” Julian rose to his feet in agitation. “I must find her. Do you know where she is?”

“She was here earlier,” Gisela admitted. “She escaped from my guardianship, I suspect in a harebrained attempt to help my brother. Philip is determined he shall catch the fiend and punish him.”

“She is in danger. I must go to her.” Julian took one of Lady Gisela’s hands to his lips. “Adieu, dear lady.”

“If you think to leave me alone to wonder what is going on, please think again,” announced a resolute Gisela. “I am tired of being alone.”

He paused, arrested by a nuance in her voice. “Are you, my dear?”

“Definitely,” she stated in no uncertain terms. What he made of that, she could only hope.

Kendall entered with Gisela’s warmest hooded cloak and Mr. Penn’s things. As usual, the butler had timed matters to a nicety. “The carriage awaits, my lady. And I have taken the liberty of including a simple repast for you to consume while on the way."

“Well?” she challenged Julian.

“Best we get started without further delay.” Julian held out his arm to Lady Gisela, and the two walked to the carriage arm and arm.

“I trust we shall find things in a bit of a muddle once we get there. Pray we are not too late,” murmured Gisela as she entered the carriage.

Julian gave an order to the coachman to spring ‘em, then entered the carriage behind Gisela. Neither of them was able to nibble very much of the light meal Kendall had the foresight to have waiting for them.

“Later,” murmured Gisela. “We shall feel more the thing once we know Katherine is safe.”

* * * *

In the theater shadows concealed the crumpled body of a woman. She lay on the floor, shoved into a corner with a drapery tossed lightly over her form. She did not move.

Chapter 16

The stage was set. The stuffed figure dressed in the soft-rose muslin sat in a chair close to the wall, but not against it. The shawl concealed any wisps of straw that might have otherwise peeped out. The head bent just slightly toward the figure’s lap, as though in deep reflection or perhaps catching a moment’s nap. How provident that the bonnet Gisela brought from the attic was one of those enormous things that women fancied a few years back. It had belonged to his mother, if he was not mistaken. Now it served to conceal the absence of a face quite well.

Philip studied the tableau from a safe distance. He lingered in the shadows after carefully revealing to the cast members that he arranged a surprise for Sidney Exton. The actors had looked hostile, for it seemed Sidney was not well-liked among them. Philip learned that Exton has been overly forward with one of the girls, the daughter of a fighter from Cambridge, and used this information to his advantage.

“Rude and insulting, he was,” one of the cast said.

The curtains parted and the comedy now was well along, the audience laughing and applauding the excellent acting of the cast. In the back room, Philip hoped that the ensuing noise that was bound to be made didn’t disturb the actors.

The light from the bracketed wall lamp neared the door flickered, almost going out as the door opened. A man slipped inside the theater, staying close to the wail. He stood very still, looking about him with an intent gaze.

After seeing that none about paid him any heed, he quietly strolled along toward the rear of the theater. There he stopped, seeing precisely what he wanted, the figure in the familiar rose muslin gown.

Off to one side of the area someone groaned. Sidney paused, searching the shadows. Hesitant to proceed, he took a step forward, then stopped once again as the sound was repeated. Philip slipped silently to where Katherine lay, swiftly clapping his hand over her mouth. He placed his lips close to her ear, then whispered, “My love, whatever you do, make no noise. ‘Tis most important. Believe me.”

When he felt her nod ever so slightly, he slowly removed his hand, watching Sidney as he did. Apparently the other man had not pinpointed the source of the sound he had heard, for he had resumed his calculated advance upon the figure in the chair.

Katherine eased herself up, wondering why her head ached, and why she was huddled on the floor with Lord Ramsey. She trembled as he drew close to her again, placing his lips against her ear. “Not a sound. Promise?”

She nodded again in response to his whispered command, then observed him inch along the wall, always watching to see what Sidney was doing.

Sidney! Katherine opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She remembered now precisely what was going on and why she was where she was. The only thing she didn’t know was how she’d been knocked out, and she suspected Lord Ramsey could tell her that. She placed a hand against the dull throb on her head, but never took her eyes off the two men.

Something in Sidney’s hand glittered. Katherine realized it had to be the knife Gisela had told her about. Katherine had found it difficult to credit that Sidney intended to kill her. Now she believed.

How badly Sidney must need that money to consider murdering to get it. Perhaps it had not occurred to him that Great-aunt Harriette might well leave her money to another in the event of Katherine’s demise.

A member of the cast left the stage, hurrying to the dressing room to change his costume. Sidney stepped into the shadows, then, when the man had disappeared, hastily returned to the side of the figure in rose. He’d not be interrupted again very soon.

The glitter was seen for a moment, then the knife disappeared right into the back of the figure just at the moment of loud applause from the front of the theater. The deed done, Sidney hurried to the door and his escape.

Katherine felt ill, nearly faint. That might have been her! She fought to remain alert, watching as Lord Ramsey quickly strode to Sidney’s side.

“Exton, a moment?”

A startled Sidney halted in his steps, turning to snarl at Lord Ramsey. “What do you want?”

“You looked for someone?” Philip grasped Exton’s arm, drawing him inexorably along with him toward the figure in rose.

“I must leave,” said Sidney Exton, a hint of desperation in his tone, tugging to pull himself free of that firm grasp.

From where she huddled, Katherine spotted a glimmer of perspiration on her cousin’s brow. He looked anxious and not a little worried, as well he might, she thought with indignation.

“Problems, Cousin Sidney? You must say good night to Katherine before you leave,” continued the smooth voice of Viscount Ramsey.

“No,” cried Sidney, his face pale with panic.

“Why, what could possibly prevent you from wishing your dear cousin a good evening? She looks lovely in rose, does she not?” They drew closer to the figure on the chair.

Sidney glanced at the figure, then whirled about, only to come face to face with the burly person of that champion fighter from Cambridge. He had been only too pleased to come along with Lord Ramsey, not liking his only daughter being insulted by that slime, Exton.

“You wouldna be thinkin’ of leaving just now, would you?” The fighter’s whisper was more menacing than his bulk or stance, and that said a great deal, thought Katherine from her vantage point.

“You don’t understand,” Sidney whined, his face now devoid of all color, but for those two pale eyes. His beautiful curls flopped in disarray over that damp brow.

“I believe we understand all too well. What would Greataunt Harriette say if she knew what you had done?” Lord Ramsey said, his tone harsh.

Sidney turned an unattractive shade of green at Ramsey’s words and inched away from the chair.

“What do you think, Katherine?”

She remained where she hid, desiring to play a trick of her own on that fiend of a cousin. “I feel sure she’d not be best pleased.”

The words produced a startling effect on Sidney. He turned white and looked near fainting. His mouth worked but produced no sounds.

Katherine rose from where she had been placed against the wall and stiffly walked to stand by Lord Ramsey.

Sidney pointed a shaky finger to the puppet, then Katherine. “But you cannot be! You’re a ghost!”

She took a step forward, stretched out her hand to touch him.

Sidney shrank away from her, whimpering, “No.”

“Why ought I be a ghost, cousin?” Katherine tried to make herself sound like one, using a sort of crooning tone. Eerie. Sepulchral. She wanted to scare the very daylights out of this loathsome creature.

“Be-because. . . ” His voice failed as Katherine whirled and walked to stand behind Lord Ramsey before she lost her temper and slapped that stupid man silly.

“You may have noticed that the ghost is not wearing rose, Exton,” offered Philip, sliding in the observation much as Sidney had the knife into the straw puppet.

“But I am very much aware of what you tried to do,” Katherine snapped, her patience exhausted. The game was no longer any pleasure. Her head hurt and she wanted to go home. “You may collect your things, then we never wish to see you again. Rest assured that I will tell our great-aunt that you tried to murder me for the inheritance. I can almost guarantee that you’ll not receive a penny, regardless of whether I live or no.”

Unnoticed by the others, another figure had entered the theater. A reed thin elderly woman supported by a stout cane moved out of the shadows to join Katherine. She looked at the woman, puzzled as to who this stranger might be.

“How vastly informative this all is.” The woman’s voice fair bristled with anger.

Sidney backed into the wall as he faintly said, “Great-aunt Harriette!” It was the final blow to the dandy. With a gasp of anguish, he slumped to the floor. The champion of Cambridge picked up the body with one hand and turned to his lordship with a grim smile. “Where shall I put him, milord?”

“The pie powder court for the moment. Explain there has been an attempt at murder, but that Mr. Exton will be leaving for Australia on the first available boat.”

Sidney’s limp body floated out the door over the champion’s shoulder as Lady Gisela and Julian Penn rushed in.

“Gracious,” Gisela exclaimed as she watched Sidney disappear. Then she turned to rush to Katherine’s side, enfolding her in a warm embrace. “Oh, I am so happy you are all right, my dear,” she whispered, recalling there was a play in progress—nearing its conclusion, actually.

“Why do we not leave here so that we need not fear being heard?” Philip suggested.

All in agreement, they filed from the theater, walking to the carriages lined up behind the building.

Katherine could not contain her curiosity another minute. “I am pleased to meet you, Great-aunt Harriette,” she said with a pretty curtsy.

“Enough. You make me feel like Methuselah. Or older,” the old lady barked, heading for her comfortable carriage.

“Would Lady Winstanley be acceptable?” Katherine suggested kindly. “How did you know where we were? And how did you get here?”

“Have you forgotten that you wrote me you were to put on this play?” Harriette replied with a twinkle in her faded blue eyes. “I could not miss it for the world. Sophia told me you were apt to be out here. I am glad I arrived in time to observe that scene with Sidney.”