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Authors: Emily Hendrickson

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BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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“She certainly does not look it. Do you know,” Katherine added thoughtfully, “that makes her only ten years younger than Father. Does Mrs. Bonner also know why Mrs. Cheney did not assume her rightful title?”

“Probably did not mean all that much to her, my dear. Not everyone feels it to be important.” Cousin Sophia glanced at the little clock that graced the mantel over the small fireplace in Katherine’s bedroom. “Dear me, we had best get down to the drawing room. Dinner will be ready and Cook will have a spasm if we are late.”

Katherine paused before the mirror one last time to check her reflection. She thought she looked well enough to stir something within Michael Weekes. But what?

Neither gentleman was in the drawing room, a fact that did not surprise either lady. Cousin Sophia bustled down the hall, returning in minutes with Julian Penn and the distracted Mr. Weekes.

Studying Michael Weekes provided Katherine with something to do between bites of the delicious meal. She sat across from him at the table. He continued to converse with her father about the translation of a particular phrase from Ovid. Katherine might have offered her opinion, having read that particular portion and reached her own conclusions regarding the meaning. But both men would be horrified to think that a young lady should have even a nodding acquaintance with Latin, much less an idea on Ovid, so she held her tongue. How excessively tiresome to be so hedged about with restrictions, she reflected. She longed for someone who could share her curiosity about the world, not to mention her love of the ridiculous.

Could Michael serve as the hero in her version of the current rage of the theater, the gothic melodrama? Those close-set eyes bothered her. How could she have failed to notice them before? she wondered, totally perplexed.

“Pass the salt, Katherine,” Cousin Sophie said in a soft voice. Then still more quietly she added, “And stop looking at our guest as though he were a horse and you contemplated buying him. I fully expect you to ask to see his teeth at any moment.”

Katherine blushed, for she suspected she had stared at Mr. Weekes far more than was seemly. “I am sorry, Cousin Sophia. I was thinking, you see.”

“I rather suspected such, my girl.”

At that point Julian Penn turned to his daughter, his face for once most congenial. “I am indebted to you, Katherine. How did you manage to arrange for my perusal of the Fairfax collection?”

“Actually you owe part of the treat to Gabriel. Had he not been along, chances are that I would not have fallen into the pond, nor met Lord Ramsey and his sister, Mrs. Cheney, much less entered the house.” Katherine exchanged amused glances with her brother. Both well knew that Papa barely tolerated her pet. Katherine attributed Gabriel’s longevity to his ability to hide from the cook.

“Harrumph,” grumbled Mr. Penn, not liking to concede anything good to the ill-tempered bird. “Explain a deal better, if you please.”

“I went out to collect some wildflowers to press. My supply was quite low, and I wish to make a number of framed arrangements with the hope of selling them at the fair.” At Teddy’s frown, she defended her pursuit. “There are any number of young ladies who enjoy this pastime, and mine turn out exceedingly well, if I do say so.”

“And?” prodded her patient father.

“His lordship came out to see what I was doing. I had not thought him to be in residence, for I had heard nothing from Melly about it. Anyway, his dog jumped up on me and I fell into the pond. Naturally the gentleman wished to see me properly cared for, so he turned me over to his sister.”

“You had tea?” he prompted.

“After a bath and dry clothing.” At the raised eyebrows from both men, Katherine explained, “The pond weed had gone to seed, you see. It was all over me.” She ignored the snide little chuckle from Teddy’s direction.

“And during the tea the subject of the library came up and they were certain your scholar father would wish to study it?” her father concluded.

“Something like that,” Katherine murmured by way of a reply. She did not have the heart to tell him that she had been invited first, and he included as an afterthought. For one thing, she doubted either of the men would believe such a thing. A professor had an elevated opinion of himself. Besides, she had a fondness for Papa, and his little vanities were to be tolerated.

“Well, now, you see, Mr. Weekes? A good daughter can be of assistance.” Mr. Penn gave Mr. Weekes a jocular look.

“I doubt I shall have the felicity of knowing the same, what with the strictures against marriage for the university fellows,” Mr. Weekes replied. “Until the officials adopt changes in the rules, I shall have to continue my solitary way.” He might have added that he cared not to leave the comfortable life of a fellow, but he remained silent on that score.

“You have ten undergraduates in your care, do you not? What a great responsibility to tend not only their minds but their manners and discipline as well,” Cousin Sophia said at this point, sounding most impressed.

Teddy jumped into the conversation, guessing something of his sister’s thoughts and how little she could say. “Do you intend to be a fellow of the college for a long time, sir?” Teddy was mindful that a university fellow had a certain amount of influence. Although Teddy had nothing to do with them directly, he had heard that the fellows did a good deal of gossiping— like a bunch of old hens, in his opinion.

“For the present I have no thought to alter my chosen path.” He glanced at Katherine, but no visible sign of heartfelt longing on his part appeared.

Katherine wondered if she ought to intercede on his behalf with Lord Ramsey. But, then, Mr. Weekes could hardly tell his lordship that he was perishing for a living in some nearby church in order to enter the holy state of matrimony. If only his eyes hadn’t become so close-set. She could scarcely credit they had been that way all along, yet common sense told her that it had to be the case.

“Well, we shall finish our discussion over a glass of port. Ladies?” reminded Julian Penn.

Teddy hastily popped up from his chair, leaving the last bite of his sweet uneaten in his haste to exit the room. Outside the dining room, he muttered to Katherine, “I have no wish to be quizzed on my knowledge of Ovid.”

“How do you expect to pass your tripos if that is the case? Part of the examination will center on Greek and Latin. I imagine you will do well enough in mathematics. But when it comes to theology, well,” Katherine concluded, unable to imagine her brother as a clergyman—or a teacher, for that matter. Once he acquired his bachelor of arts, he would be equal to Mr. Weekes. He would then hear lectures by a master of arts. Eventually he must take the dreaded oral tripos examination.

“Don’t be a clunch,” Teddy replied. “I intend to make my way in government. As regius professor Papa has a connection with the Prince Regent. And don’t he always see the Duke of Gloucester when he comes to visit? With the duke as the chancellor of the university, I should think it would be a prime advantage for me. And Lord Palmerston is one of the university representatives in Parliament. I rather thought to see if I might work under him, you know.”

“I am impressed, Teddy. I had no idea you had made so many plans. Although I feel certain you are taking a good bit for granted,” Katherine concluded sagely.

Her brother gave her a superior look, then sauntered out the front door, off, she suspected, to chat with his fellow students, or worse yet, get into some deviltry. She would be profoundly thankful when he outgrew all the rigs and rows so frequently entered into by the undergraduates. If they were not tipping over lampposts, they were off to the cockfights. The dons, finished with their tutoring for the day, spent their evenings playing cards and gossiping.

Unable to alter anything, Katherine gave up on Mr. Weekes for the night. Yawning hugely, she slowly walked up to her room to spend some time wondering what the morrow would bring. She gazed into the looking glass, thinking herself to be a sorry comparison to Melly, with her lively brunette curls and dancing eyes. Perhaps Katherine ought to learn how to flirt?

* * * *

After lunch on the following day she gathered up the freshly laundered blue muslin, giving it a wistful look as she did. When would she have the opportunity to wear such a fashionable gown again? The allowance from Papa covered, as Cousin Sophia had said, the essentials. Her gowns received refurbishment quite often, new ones rarely bespoke, although she knew her father made quite an excellent living as regius professor. He seemed to have the peculiar notion that she required no more money to sustain her today than she did as a babe.

Teddy burst through the doorway, his excitement most obvious as he spoke. “Dash it all, Kitty, why did you not include me in the invitation? There is a pair of prime goers pulling a smashing carriage.” He held out a package, which Katherine found to be her old yellow muslin, washed and ironed to new freshness.

“How thoughtful!” Katherine was thankful that she would not have to listen to her father complaining about driving in the donkey cart, even if Katherine had two donkeys in tandem to draw it.

Mr. Penn quite naturally accepted that the carriage had been sent to fetch them as a mark of esteem for a man of his position. It would never have occurred to him to consider that Lord Ramsey might have the slightest interest in his daughter. Indeed, it would have been a preposterous notion.

The mellow red brick hall was more imposing from the front, the broad pediment of Portland stone over the door elegantly carved with the Ramsey coat of arms. Katherine hoped she appeared graceful as she stepped from the carriage, then walked along with her father up one of the staircases to the impressive oak door.

Kendall, the dignified butler who had traveled up from London with his master, led them through the entrance hall. Katherine thought Teddy would appreciate all the sporting pictures hung on the walls. Not able to pause to examine them, she suspected they were some of the finest examples to be found.

A charming Mrs. Cheney greeted them as they entered the saloon she appeared to favor for tea. Katherine proffered the pretty blue muslin with her heartfelt thanks. She then trailed along across the room, looking about her with an interested eye to detail. The happy thought that she might relay her description to Melly’s avid ears had earlier entered her head.

“We are delighted you were able to join us for tea this afternoon. I know how busy you must be, Mr. Penn,” Gisela said as she drew Julian Penn along with her to the sofa. The blue muslin had been given to the butler to dispose of, and Gisela Cheney turned her full attention to Mr. Penn.

Amused at the flash of frustration that crossed her father’s face at this delay, Katherine wondered where his lordship might be.

“No Gabriel today?”

Katherine whirled about, smiling in amusement at the notion of Gabriel driving along in so fine a carriage as had been sent for them. “Hardly. His appreciation for the finer things does not seem to extend beyond the pond, sir.”

“I am pleased you are no worse the wear for your fall in the water yesterday.” He advanced upon her, his hand extended to warmly clasp hers.

“Fie, sir, what a poor thing you must think me if a little wetting would send me to my bed.” Katherine beamed up at him, for he was a very nice height, even as she wondered at the effect of his touch. She had shaken hands with Mr. Weekes any number of times, and never had this trembling seized her so. Not to mention the startling result of gazing into those warm gray eyes. Indeed, she felt quite shaken.

They consumed the lavish tea in leisurely style. Julian Penn relaxed-to a degree, charmed by the attentiveness of his hostess. She exhibited that delightful ability to draw out her guests that the most amiable of ladies possess. Julian had not been around such grace in some time, or at least noticed it.

“You must be pleased to see your daughter has grown to such a fine young woman,” murmured Gisela to Mr. Penn as they watched Katherine speak in earnest conversation with Lord Ramsey about the coming fair. “I imagine you have received many offers for her hand.”

Julian seemed clearly taken aback at these words. He peered at his daughter for a moment before replying. “No, I cannot say I have. Ours is a small community and Katherine has always been a bit . . .

“Unusual?”

“Precisely. She shows a marked tendency to levity that few of the gentlemen here esteem.”  He exchanged a glance with Mrs. Cheney before returning his gaze to his daughter.

“What a pity. She would shine in London, I vow. There is a luminous quality about her—an inner radiation—as it were— that quite enchants the viewer.”

Julian Penn obviously had not considered his daughter in that light. He studied her while sipping the last of his tea, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Come, sir,” declared Lord Ramsey. “I believe you are interested in the library. My sister will gladly show you the way. I suspect that once you get there, you will scarce know the rest of the world is around.” His smile took any sting from the words. They all rose from their seats as he added, “I shall escort Miss Penn to the little theater room I have had built on to the house.”

The scholar said nothing to this arrangement. Not interested in Mrs. Cheney, nor persuaded that Lord Ramsey was being other than polite in regards to his daughter, he turned his mind toward the pleasure offered by books. Casting a puzzled glance at his girl, who suddenly appeared to have aged considerably, he gallantly offered his arm to Mrs. Cheney. Shortly he stood in the enormous and excellently lit library, gazing upon rows and rows of treasure. As predicted, he forgot all else and began to scan the volumes, seeking the special books he knew to be there.

Katherine paused in the saloon after her father and Mrs. Cheney had disappeared around the corner. She strolled closer to the window, studying the effect of the Gothic Tower in the distance.

“It seems to attract the eye, does it not?” inquired Lord Ramsey, totally unaccustomed to being ignored by a young woman—single or otherwise—for a mere folly. “The Chinese Bridge is directly below; you can just make out the top of the railings. It gives added atmosphere to the tower. Did you know the head gamekeeper inhabits the place?” He came close to her, pointing out just what he meant by showing her with his hand.

BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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