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Authors: Emily Hendrickson

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BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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Thinking this had to be the most curious proposal in the world, Katherine could only sit in stunned silence for a few moments.

Sidney studied his cousin. Had he been precipitate? If Lord Ramsey had not been giving all the signs of a protective lover, Sidney would have bided his time, waiting to woo the lovely Katherine with proper deference. He held his breath, hoping she would at least promise to give his proposal some consideration.

Searching through her extensive vocabulary, Katherine tried to find the right words to express her thoughts. None came to mind. “No,” she blurted out with the most disgusting honesty in her life. Surely she might have found a gentler way to depress his attentions?

“I cannot believe you have had time to consider my offer. Surely you do not have a tendre for his lordship?”

Since that was precisely what afflicted Katherine, she said nothing, merely looking as bland as she was able.

“For you must know,” Sidney continued, “he is quite above your touch.”

“I scarcely know you,” replied Katherine, all too well aware of the awful truth of his argument. It was difficult to consider that Sidney was serious in his interest. They had met but days before. Katherine looked past him to where Cousin Sophia entered the room. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she beckoned to her dear cousin and friend. “Cousin Sophia, do join us.”

Since Cousin Sophia had every intention of such, she merely gave Katherine an odd look, then settled herself in her favorite chair next to a large branch of candles. The light had grown dim with the fading daylight and even if Sophia could probably knit in the dark, she preferred to have some light on the matter.

“I have just declared my intentions to seek Katherine’s hand,” Sidney informed his other cousin, one he privately thought a bit odd.

“Why?” Cousin Sophia as usual got straight to the point.

Undaunted, Sidney replied, “Because she is enchanting, the very ideal of a wife.”

“Have you been writing lines for him, Katherine?” Cousin Sophia inquired, looking strangely at Cousin Sidney first, then at her niece.

Coughing into her hand, Katherine shook her head. “Not at all. I am persuaded that Cousin Sidney is carried away with the notion of marriage. He cannot be serious, I vow.” To Sidney, she added, “Sleep on it, cousin. I am certain that, come morning and a day spent with the lovely Amelia Bonner, you will forget this nonsense. For I refuse to believe you are serious.” Katherine smiled gently, as one might to someone who is all about in the attic.

Frustrated in his efforts, Sidney muttered something to Katherine about going for a walk.

Understanding that any gentleman might wish to console himself after having a proposal rejected, even if it was one that was deucedly strange, Katherine waved him off. “By all means.”

Sidney left the house feeling like he was further from his goal than ever before. He strolled down to the White Swan and ordered a pint of their best. Glancing about him, he was delighted to see a crony from London. Sidney wended his way to his side, then sat down for a bit of conversation. By the time a considerable number of pints had disappeared down Sidney’s gullet, an agreement had been reached and both men were well satisfied with the night’s work. Staggering back to his cousin’s house, Sidney leered at a light-skirt who beckoned from a dimly lit doorway.

“Not tonight, dolly. I have better things to come.”

 

Chapter 10

 

Katherine crossed to the center of the newly constructed stage and stopped. Turning to gaze at a distant point, she began to speak.:

 

I guess I loved him best of all, for he

Gave of his love most sparingly to me.

We women have, if I am not to lie,

In this love matter, a quaint fantasy;

Look out a thing we may not lightly have,

And after that we’ll cry all day and crave.

For but a thing, and that thing covet we;

Press hard upon us, then we turn and flee.

Sparingly offer we our goods, when fair,

Great crowds at market make for dearer ware,

And what’s too common brings but little price;

All this knows every woman who is wise.

 

She broke off abruptly, seeing a shadowy figure appear in the rear of the theater booth. “Who goes there?”

“You feel a kinship with the Widow of Bath?” lightly queried the figure remaining in the shadows.

“Well,” Katherine replied in a considering voice as she drifted to the edge of the stage, “I doubt I’ve a wish to be common.” She looked about her, then gestured with a wide sweep of an arm. “ ‘Tis a grand sight, is it not? At least it is for a show booth. You have done yourself proud, sir.”

“The Widow of Bath is an intriguing character.” Lord Ramsey emerged from the shadows to stroll to the foot of the stage, looking up at Katherine with speculative eyes.

“It was her third husband of whom she spoke in those lines, you know. I expect she had learned a thing or two by that time.” Katherine moved a few steps, then paused as something in his manner caught her.

“And what did you learn, pray tell?” Even in the dim light Katherine could make out the sparkle in his eyes. His jaunty stance didn’t delude her. What purpose his line of questioning might have, she didn’t know, but it would be well to use caution in her reply, for once.

“A woman must beware how she bestows her attentions, sir, lest she be deemed common and thus lose what value she might have. For I understand well that no man desires a woman who has nothing to offer him.”

She thought of Michael Weekes and his indifferent attitude. She had no great amount of money to appeal to his needs. Were she an heiress, it would be a different matter entirely. Somehow, standing on the stage with the smell of new lumber around her and the gaze of the tremendously appealing man fastened upon her, Mr. Weekes faded into the dim obscurity of a suitor who had failed to meet romantic longings.

Lord Ramsey vaulted up to the stage to confront Katherine. She backed away from him a few steps, feeling intimidated by his virility and handsome charm. Those biscuit pantaloons fit superbly and that blue coat had not a wrinkle to mar it. If only Teddy might match Ramsey’s talent with a cravat, so careless did it appear, although she guessed it must have taken great skill to produce.

“Do you think you have nothing to offer a man?” Philip watched her closely. Did her quote from Chaucer actually reveal an inner longing for that stuffed shirt Weekes? Did she fancy that someone as imaginative and lively as herself might possibly be content with the circumscribed life of a cleric’s wife? Perhaps she needed to be taught a lesson in reality?

Incensed he would tread on so delicate a subject, Katherine flashed him a look of censure. “My dowry is not great, my looks only passing, and I fear that if word of this involvement in the theater seeps out, I will truly be past praying for.”

“And yet you risk all to do this?” Here was proof of her unsuitability as Weekes’ mate. She possessed too much spunk and vitality to be married to that unassertive fellow.

Katherine laughed, a silvery, musical trill that fell pleasantly upon the air, causing the man who stood in the shadows of the wings to sharpen his gaze at the couple who bantered so casually on center stage.

“I find I must, or I shall have no peace. Can you possibly understand? No, I doubt it, for a man has no such restrictions hampering him as does a woman. I ought to be dutifully practicing the pianoforte, improving my watercolors, and learning the art of gentle seduction via conversation. I ought to emulate Amelia Bonner; she does it so well.”

Katherine sighed slightly, then made to move away from Lord Ramsey. Casting a wry smile at that gentleman, she added, “If I am not to sink beyond hope, I must find Cousin Sophia. She came along to lend a semblance of respectability.” Again a lighthearted chuckle rang out as Katherine hurried across the stage, disappearing in the wings opposite where the second shadowy figure stood, arrested by what he had seen and heard.

Katherine strolled about the rear of the theater, checking the construction until she caught sight of her new cousin coming toward her. Cousin Sophia had still not appeared. Katherine frowned, not wishing to have Sidney around, fearing what, she knew not.

“It looks well,” Sidney commented, running a hand along the smooth timber as if admiring the handiwork of the carpenters from Fairfax Hall. He continued to study his cousin.

“Teddy says it has features the actors find most agreeable. There are even proper dressing rooms for the cast. They are small, I fear, but not to be despised, considering what some of the inns have to offer them.” Katherine studied his face, then added, “What brings you to this spot so early in the day?”

“Can you have forgotten? The oysters? You said you would go with me.” Sidney gave Katherine a narrow look, as though daring her to deny him the pleasure of her company.

Her hand fluttered to her throat. Indeed, she had quite forgotten the invitation to join Sidney in eating the oysters when they arrived at the fair. It was a great treat, but with all that had to be arranged, she felt it was one she must forgo.

“I am sorry,” she said with genuine contrition. “We are arranging the costumes, and the scenery is due to arrive sometime this afternoon. I dare not leave here for the moment.  ‘Tis only a matter of days until the fair officially opens, you know. And, I must find Cousin Sophia, as I seem to be without a chaperone.”

Sidney knew a cold anger creeping over him. The chit was turning him away. Did she see him merely as a cousin? Or perhaps she thought she stood a chance with his carefree lordship? Ha! That man could look much higher for a wife than the daughter of a divinity professor, even if he did have high connections. Being appointed by the crown had little value in Sidney’s eyes.

“If you will excuse me, I had best sort out the costumes.” She turned to walk toward the trunk from Fairfax Hall that sat in a corner of the carpenter’s room.

Katherine found her arm grabbed and she stared down at Sidney’s hand before looking up into his face. Had she seen a flash of anger? No, how silly. Surely he could see she was the logical one to perform this task.

“There is much to observe if you stroll about the rows of the fair. A rope-walker is setting up her booth just down the way and a puppet show is in the process of going up.”

She gave him a patient stare. “Perhaps later. For the time being, I must stay here.” She turned from him to head off in the direction of the trunk that held the assortment of costumes. Some had come from the attic of Fairfax Hall. Others had been sewn up by a seamstress who knew only that they were for the fair, no more.

Sidney muttered, “I was told that Cambridge is nothing but hazard and burgundy, hunting, mathematics, Newmarket, riot, and racing. Nothing was said about the impossibility of the resident females. Perhaps it was better when Byron lived here. That bear he took for walks must have livened things up considerably.” There was nothing for Sidney to do but take himself off.

At the White Swan he found his friend, one Lewis Rankin, and the two set out for a pleasant day. Thwarted in his intentions for Katherine Penn, Sidney put is mind to an alternative course. His good friend, when fully appraised of the situation, made a number of suggestions. One took Sidney’s fancy. While they strolled about the fair
site again, a plan was hatched that Sidney hoped would bear abundant fruit.

* * * *

“What did your cousin want?” Lord Ramsey leaned against the wall while watching Katherine shake out the various costumes.

“Nothing much.” After hanging up the maid’s skirt on a peg, Katherine then held up a pair of leather stays of the kind worn by country maids. “These look uncomfortable,” she murmured to herself before remembering that his lordship stood close by, watching her efforts. Why was it her tongue seemed to forget itself when he was present? There was nothing she might do to halt the warmth to her cheeks. How improper of her to comment on a garment obviously for intimate wear. Fortunately he refrained from teasing her, something Katherine almost expected, given his lighthearted view of life.

“He did not seem best pleased when he stalked out of here,” Ramsey persisted, a frown lingering on his brow.

“Well, and so he might be understandably annoyed. He had invited me to join him for oysters and I completely forgot. To tell the truth, I am not that fond of oysters.” She sought to conceal the stays from him, tucking them next to a crisp white apron and print shawl that was part of the maid’s attire.

“It is an acquired taste.” He reached for the pair of leather stays and held them up, checking the lacing in the back for signs of wear. He glanced at Katherine’s flaming cheeks and chuckled. “I am not so blind that I am not aware of feminine apparel.”

Katherine could not meet that gray gaze, suspecting that his knowing eyes would be full of mirth at her expense.

“These seem in good repair. Where did you get them?”

“I paid three shillings for them. The actress who is to play the maid had them fitted to her. Do you know,” added Katherine, forgetting she ought not speak of such things, “there is an iron rod down the front? It surely would remind one not to slump.”

Katherine plucked the stays from his hand, then tucked them in the pile with the apron and shawl. She turned to pull the next costume from the trunk, the harem-style garment to be worn by Miss O’Neill in the final scene.

Katherine glanced at him, her eyes defiant. “I think the less said about this, the better. I only hope that Miss O’Neill’s father will permit her to wear this garment without a quarrel.”

“You know what I think? I think we will leave here for a time to give you a change.” he draped the somewhat scandalous garment over a crude chair, then took Katherine by the hand to walk toward the exit. From a wooden bench he scooped up a billowy pile of fabric, holding it out to Katherine. “Here, you had best conceal yourself in this since you seek anonymity.”

She accepted what proved to be a fashionable cloak of silk and wool merino in dull black. She quickly whipped it about her form, flipping the hood over her honey-blond hair, she allowed Philip to lead her from the building. How amazing that he should recall of her need for protection from view.

BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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